When they woke up, Randy was gone.

It was a full twenty four hours now since they'd gotten up to see his bunk empty and a note written crudely on the back of a food packet, but to Kyle it all still seemed a little surreal. Sheila on the other hand had pulled through and survived the night somehow.

"Poor Sharon." Kenny said, startling not just Kyle from his thoughts but also Butters, who had been staring intently into the ether.

"Yeah," Butters said weakly. "It sure was brave of him though." Butters was lying in his bed, and Kyle and Kenny were sat on the adjacent bunks.

"It was selfish too." Kyle muttered. "Sharon looks pretty upset for someone who supposedly didn't love him anymore." The note had been a chilling read for everyone; Randy had basically declared that he had less to lose than Gerald, and should be the one to risk leaving the bunker. He'd argued that Gerald had children to look after, and a wife who loved him, and he had neither.

"Well just because you don't love someone doesn't mean you want them to die!" Butters exclaimed. It had been obvious for years that the Marsh's had marital problems, but nobody knew until now that Sharon had filed for divorce just a week before the Event. She'd given him a month to move out apparently, and had been hysterical since the disappearance that this made the whole situation her fault. Kyle had bitten his tongue when he'd felt like pointing out they were all going to die anyway, Randy would just get a better view when it happened.

"Kyle," Kenny said, walking around Butter's bunk to sit next to him. He leaned close and whispered, "You can't feel responsible for this. Randy chose to do this, you didn't make him and neither did your dad."

"I know that Kenny." He snapped, but actually he didn't. He gave Kenny an apologetic look to let him know he hadn't meant to be harsh. The feeling that Randy sacrificed himself for the sake of his family was pretty horrible; if there was any chance that Randy's 'mission' would succeed he would have been back within a few hours, and now it had been a full day there was no doubt about his fate. It felt like it was the Broflovski's turn to lose someone, and they were somehow intact while Stan's family suffered everything.

"Let's talk about something else." Kenny said, his eyes indicating that Kyle was not completely forgiven. Still, he was glad of the chance to at least try to think about a different topic for the first time in the last day.

"Actually, I've been thinking about something recently fellas..." It was inevitable that Butters would jump into the silence before it became awkward, his frail state clearly not enough to override his nervous social skills. "We never got a yearbook, so I thought maybe we could do those awards they do, just to remember everyone? Gee, that sounds stupid now I'm saying it out loud."

"Yeah, it does." Kyle snapped. "I'm not sure how thinking about everyone that died is going to help at the moment."

"Oh, I guess you're right. I meant it to be a happy thing, like-"

"I don't think it's stupid Butters." Kenny interrupted, and for some reason it made Kyle's face hot with anger hearing him jump to their friend's defence. "I think it's sweet, our year doesn't deserve to be forgotten. Think of it like closure, Kyle, a fun way to send everybody off."

It still sounded a lot like dragging up painful memories but Kyle just murmured vaguely in agreement. He wasn't in the mood to argue, and besides Butters was bed-ridden, so he should probably try to be a little accommodating.

Kenny went off to find something to write on and a functioning pen, still annoyingly upbeat and looking lighter on his feet than the rest of them. He had been so thin to begin with that his strength seemed bizarre, but then again he was tough, and his body was used to surviving on very little. Kyle made no effort to keep up small talk while he was gone, figuring that Butters needed to save his energy and that both would actually prefer to be left to their thoughts. He was quite surprised when this wish was actually granted and there were no awkward comments coming from the bed either.

"No pen or pencil, I can't find the one Randy must have used." Kenny said as he returned to their side. "I've got this though," He held up a penknife, "Let's carve it into the wall. It's more permanent anyway."

"Most likely to marry for money?" Kenny asked, looking around as if this was a totally logical first question.

"That's awful mean Kenny! And hard!" Butters said, laughing already. Kyle felt depressed at how faint his voice was though, and how the laughs were punctuated by heavy breathing.

"It's easy." Kyle suddenly remembered exactly who deserved this one, "Bebe. Remember when she dated Clyde to get shoes?"

"Oh yeah, that's it!" Kenny flashed him the smile that had made him something of a catch in high school, and although he hadn't seen it in a while it was still toothpaste-commercial perfect. He carved the name into the wall of the bunker, ignoring the slight screeching noise made by metal scraping against metal. "Next?"

"Most likely to be living with their parents their whole life?" Kyle asked, getting over the weirdness of this whole idea and just trying to help lift the mood. As soon as he said it he saw Butters smile at him, and he suddenly wondered who exactly this exercise was aiming to cheer up.

"Ooh, maybe Clyde?" Butters suggested, though Kyle had been thinking more along the lines of the blond boy himself.

"No it's gotta be Cartman." Kenny said, already scratching in the name. "Such a mamma's boy." Kyle had a feeling it wouldn't be Cartman's only award of the day, and he was proved right when he picked up 'most likely to try to take over the world' a turn later.

For a while they were acting as if it genuinely was the end of their senior year (though that would have been a few months ago anyway), and they made a concerted effort to give everyone something. They even gave out awards to kids who had left the class after elementary school, like Token and Red who both went to a different high school, and of course Pip. Kyle's particular highlights included Butters begrudgingly accepting the 'most likely to get ID'd when they're thirty' award, and Kenny getting angry when they tried to give him a prize for being 'the most likely to end up on Jerry Springer'.

It became a little harder as it progressed, and they started giving more serious titles, from the best sportsperson through to the wittiest class member. Kyle resisted putting forward Stan for every award (even though most of them he clearly deserved), though he did without hesitation for 'most caring' and 'best smile', because hey, these awards would lose all credibility if Stan didn't bag those two. Kenny gave him some weird look when they debated the latter award, and Kyle wasn't sure why; it wasn't that Kenny didn't have a perfect photo-shoot worthy smile, it was just that it didn't match up to Stan's lopsided grin. They all got somewhat emotional as it went on, and Kenny looked close to tears when they insisted he took the title of 'happiest person', even more so than he had been to win 'class clown'. A pretty large space behind Butters' bunk was taken up with this wall of badly scrawled names, and it was strangely satisfying to see it being completed, like they had finally finished some long postponed chore that was hanging over them and ruining a weekend. He was content to refuse 'most intelligent' in favor of giving it to Wendy, since 'most sarcastic', 'most annoying but loved' and 'rear of the year' all already bore the name 'Broflovski' underneath.

By the time it was all finished Butters was fast asleep, and he looked completely worn out. Kyle was convinced that even in his sleep he looked a lot happier, though it would only be a temporary relief before he had to return to the real world. The rosy tint that he was so used to seeing in Butters' cheeks was completely gone and his lips looked grey and thin, so much so that Kyle almost wanted to reach out and touch him just to make sure he wasn't stone cold. He and Kenny stayed by his bunk in silence for a while, regrouping their thoughts after an unusually eventful couple of hours. Since most days were completely indistinguishable from each other it felt like it had been a particularly productive morning.

As they sat there Kyle's eyes were caught by something across the room, something particularly shocking. He considered not saying anything until Kenny noticed as well, getting up and running across to the scene. Karen was kneeling by her bed, pulling out the foam stuffing in clumps…and eating it. Something about just looking at that made Kyle want to throw up, it was such a depressing sight. He watched as Kenny had his arms around his sister and was whispering to her, rocking her back and forth. Lord knows what chemicals were in that stuffing, and what kind of reaction your body might have, but he supposed it was more about the sensation of chewing, swallowing and feeling full than actual sustenance. There would be essentially nothing of nutritional value in all of that anyway, even if she emptied every single bed. More useful would be the two older bunks Jimbo and Sharon used, since they were bound in leather and there might be the odd calorie or scrap of protein available. Kyle tried to imagine what Kenny was saying to his little sister to explain things to her. You don't know what chemicals that's made of? It could make you sick? We need to let ourselves starve, it will be easier that way? He wouldn't use that last one, of course, but it's the closest there was to an actual explanation.

"Boys, the broadcast should start soon, are you coming?" Gerald asked as he approached Butters' bed. His dad looked like he had been crying, and that was something Kyle would never get used to seeing, even though it had happened a few times down here.

"He's asleep, we should leave him. I'll come though, I guess." He had forgotten completely that it was broadcast day today, he never counted down the days to it and for some reason the others hadn't been discussing it either. He wasn't sure he could stomach watching the routine of people's hopes being smashed yet again, but any chance of staying put was ruined by his dad lurking next to them, still waiting for him to get up.

"Kyle, I know how you feel about these, and you're right, but try to be understanding? People react to difficult circumstances in very different ways..." Gerald was giving him that stern-but-understanding look that only a seasoned parent could master.

"Yeah, sure." Kyle replied, but he was already moving away from his dad, scanning the group gathered around the TV for Kenny. He found him at the back on his own, hands stuffed into his pockets.

"Hey." Was all their newly official 'happiest person' could manage as a glum greeting.

"Did you sort it out, with Karen?"

"Not really. She wouldn't listen to me, but when your smart ass brother came along and said the exact same thing it seemed to work." His frustration was endearing, and a little funny.

"It's only natural, she doesn't want to be told what to do by her older brother." They were all still staring at a black screen, waiting for something to happen.

"Uh huh. Those two get on a little too well for my liking anyway." Kenny was serious, but Kyle just burst out laughing.

"Dude, she's sixteen, he's twelve!" Kyle said, punching the blond boy's shoulder lightly. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

"He's very mature for his age." Was all Kenny replied, though it was hard to argue with that point.

A quiet fuzz was enough to render their hushed conversation silent instantly, along with any others that may have been happening in the room. All eyes were on the old TV set, for what would certainly be the final time. The box was almost as deep as it was wide (having been made about a decade before the arrival of the flatscreen) but this had worked in their favor, as it didn't require a great deal of power to run. Kenny's hand held his, but it wasn't a tight or nervous grip, instead it was soft and reassuring, a reminder that he wasn't alone, at least not completely. The fact that they had shaken off the naive expectation of the first few months - at least most of them had - only made it a little easier to watch these stupid things. If he had his way the TV would stay off, and they would all be spared the whole ritual. He gripped back, and noticed that they weren't alone in wanting someone to hang onto now, with his father back at his mother's side, Stephen holding Linda, Karen's arm slung around Ike's shoulders and even Jimbo and Ned standing close enough together for their arms to be touching, as if by accident. Only Sharon was standing alone, and it was heartbreaking. He moved a little closer to her, pulling Kenny with him and hoping that just his being at her side would help somehow, though he didn't see how it could.

"I don't know how many days it has been since the event, but, uh- this is the survival broadcast for April."

The picture suddenly appeared, but Kyle had slipped into some hunger induced delusion. He hadn't felt that bad today, a little lightheaded maybe, but that was normal, and now he thought, he actually thought-

"I'm not, I mean I don't really know what to say..."

He looked to his side to see Sharon in tears, and Jimbo grabbing her before she collapsed next to him. This was real...on the screen in front of him he was looking at the unmistakable image of Stan, alive.

"I don't think it's safe to go outside. Don't go outside."

Everything else was suddenly gone, and all he could see was the grainy image on the TV screen, like some perfect hallucination, only it wasn't just his mind playing tricks on him. He couldn't even begin to process any emotions, instead just focusing on what Stan might say next, and taking in every aspect of his appearance now.

"Fuck, I don't even know if this thing is recording-"

It is, Stan. Kyle wished so badly that he could somehow let him know, and let him know he was watching.

"Look, I don't know anything useful to tell you, I'm sorry." Stan dropped the piece of paper he had been reading from, and took a step closer to the camera. "But Kyle, Mom, Dad...if you're alive somehow, if you're watching, I'm going to try to figure this out, okay? Whatever it is, it kills people but it doesn't kill me."

That had to be Kyle's favorite sentence of all time. Stan seemed a little weak, but he looked so alive, and that was all that mattered. He was safe and he could survive, and knowing that would be enough to put Kyle's mind at ease.

"If you're out there - in the bunker, or anywhere -" Stan's voice was cracking, and he was pulling that face he always did where he was trying his hardest to look strong and composed, because he felt he had to for someone else's sake, usually Kyle's. "Stay put, I'm going to figure this out and come get you. I won't give up, I promise."

The picture was too poor to tell if Stan was actually crying or not, but Kyle was, in torrents down his face. It didn't seem to matter that Stan wouldn't be able to figure it out in time, he couldn't possibly...just knowing that for now he was still standing on the same planet, breathing the same air, was enough. A part of him that had been stolen was now returned.

"And if the snow buries my, my neighborhood..." Stan started singing, so quiet it could barely be heard over the static noise coming from the TV set.

"And if my parents are crying…" Kyle recognized the song instantly, it was by Arcade Fire, and they had both loved it when they first heard it a few years ago. They went to a gig in Denver together, and Kyle had been too intimidated by the crowds to get close, but when this song started Stan had just put him on his shoulders and forced his way right to the front.

"Then I'll dig a tunnel, from my window to yours. Yeah, a tunnel, from my window to yours." Kyle whispered the last line along with him, desperately trying to clear his eyes of tears as they blurred his view of the screen. He had always imagined the song to be about them, a somber love story in a snow covered town, but it was so surreal to see Stan sing it to him at a moment like that. Stan offered no explanation for it, but he didn't need to; Kyle knew.

"There's a low power warning, I have to go…" Kyle dreaded the moment when they would be returned to torturous isolation, and he could already feel the rest of the room reappearing again, the noise of people around him no longer blocked out by his mind. "This is the last survival broadcast, there won't be any more from now on."

With that the image suddenly vanished, stealing any final sentence and leaving the room to the frantic, excited chatter that had taken over.

Out of the corner of his eye Kyle could see Kenny turn around to look for him, but he was already well away from the group. He dug the penknife into the bed, ripping loudly through the leather and hacking it into strips he could boil. The game had changed. He had survived this long after all, and up until now he hadn't even been trying.

X

Sorry for the wait people, finally got another chapter up. I have been trying to keep to a routine of a new chapter every 4-5 days, so I'll strive to get back to that. I hope the last couple of chapters haven't been too dark or off-the-wall for you guys, and thanks as always to readers and especially reviewers!