Hello, guys and gals!
God, I sound like my uncle.
Anyhow, the A/N was too long, so you can find it at the bottom, along with the responses to the reviews and a link to another picture. Hope you'll like the chapter!
Thanks for betaing for me, Elbereth Gilthoniel! What would I do without you?
Chapter IX – Longing for What was Lost
Three years earlier.
Kenny crept up closer to the main entrance of the headquarters. It had rained all day, and the strong wind had made it impossible to escape the cold wetness; the evil little drops had forced their way between the leaves on the tree he had been hiding beneath, and he wouldn't be surprised if he had caught pneumonia. With the knowledge that Cartman could be absolutely anywhere, he had been forced to spend the entire day waiting for the nightfall; only in the darkness of the night did he dare to move toward his goal.
Kenny might have been a man of risks and impulses once, but he would not have the blood of his fellows on his hands. They were dirty enough as it was.
"It wouldn't be very fair if I died of illness the same day I got back," he muttered to himself as he made his way over the soggy clearing. The mud made a disgusting noise as he stepped in it, adding to the injustice of it all. "But fuck it all, it wouldn't be very surprising."
He pushed aside the foliage that covered the great pair of metal doors and knocked heavily on one of them. Nothing happened. After the fifteenth time he knocked, he started cursing and kicking at it, all for nothing. They knew that he came back during the night, why hadn't they put a guard on duty or something? It was only for a few days, for goodness sake, and all they had to do was to drag their sleeping bag over to the entrance. He was supposed to be their leader. Didn't he at least deserve that much?
When he had banged on the doors for at least forty-five minutes, he heard distant steps echoing on the other side. The barricade was good at preventing the sound from leaking out, so he could only hear it as he pressed his ear to the metal. A few seconds later, a small window was opened, and a blue iris stared straight into his. He could hear a startled gasp and mere seconds later, the doors sprung opened.
Wendy stood on the other side, wearing a pajama that was very modest, but still flattering enough to reveal that Token was a very lucky man.
"Kenny!" She jumped into his arms and hugged him tightly, not caring about the pouring rain. "We thought you were dead, where have you been?"
"Dead, obviously," Kenny said with a smile, feeling better now that he wasn't alone in the cold darkness. "Why weren't you expecting me?"
"We were." Wendy's face grew solemn. "We waited and waited, but after three weeks we were forced to give up. You were assumed dead for real this time, and we couldn't have people sleeping in the hallways forever."
"Three weeks? How long have I been dead?"
Usually, he was only away for a few days, two weeks tops, but judging by Wendy's reaction, he had been missing for much longer than that.
"Six weeks," she said with a sigh, with her arms still around his shoulders. "I picked up the thread where you left it, just as we discussed, but you've got big shoes, and they're hard to fill. Hope's been low. If even our immortal man can't make it, how could we hope to? And Stan, well, he got depressed when you died, I think you know why, and then it only got worse when you didn't come back. It's harder on him than on most; every time you die, it's as if he loses two friends."
Right, the whole You bastards!-thing that had been carved into their brains as children and now was more of a habit than something that required thought. Every time he died anywhere near Stan, he shouted his part of it, but Kyle wasn't around to take the second.
Fuck.
"Yeah," Wendy agreed with his thought, able to read his mind as always. "I better be off to bed, otherwise chances are that Token will suspect that I passed out in the bathroom. Again. Go check on Stan before hitting the sack, would you? I think he's still sleeping, but I doubt he'd mind it."
She hugged him tightly one last time, then yawned and left for her husband. Kenny couldn't help the amused smile that quirked his lips. Wendy never gave up on anyone, and she hadn't given up on him, that much was obvious. The look in her eyes, albeit a bit surprised, said more "Welcome back" than "You're supposed to be dead."
"And Kenny, try not to die so often, if not for your own sake then at least for Stan's. You're all he's got left."
He nodded. It wasn't as if he ever sought out death, but he had to admit that he could be more careful than he was. Being immortal had that effect on people. Still, he hated making other people sad, at least those that were his friends and especially Stan. Wendy was right, as always. He should try to avoid death more than he currently was; there was no need to remind Stan of what he had lost. Wendy was a smart girl and his respect for her ran deeply.
But, he couldn't help but noticing as she walked away from him, she had a very delectable ass too.
Present time, 2030.
It was as if the temperature had gone below zero in mere seconds. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe and every inhalation hurt his throat.
Not sure whether he should laugh or cry, Kyle's mouth fell open but emitted no sound. The first impulse told him to run, run away as far from the smirking monster as he could before it was too late. Sadly, he was too much of a human to dismiss those lying on the ground.
You can't do this to us, his mind cried. Damn you, Fatass, we should have won. We should have ended it! We were so close!
Sadly, his thoughts didn't matter; the situation didn't change. The facts still remained, blatantly ignoring his desperate want for it to be otherwise.
Stan next to him almost fell over when he heard the demand, but managed to stay standing. Viciously, he pulled Kyle closer and glared at Fatass with eyes practically burning, leaving no doubt of what he would have done, had he been alone with the Fatso.
Too upset to form a coherent sentence, only managing to spit out a bunch of nonsense, Stan's attempts of protesting went by unheard, but the people around them got the message.
He fell silent as two pale fingers were pressed to his lips. With begging eyes he looked up at Kyle, who couldn't quite meet them and removed his hand, embarrassed.
Fleeing the accusing eyes of his best friend, Kyle turned to the person who had become the symbol of authority in the small community that was La Résistance.
Kenny was once again in centre of everyone's attention, looking as if he would have welcomed death for once. The blond man's posture had gone rigid and his face was blank, apart from the eyes that darted between those on the ground and Kyle, who stared at him with wide eyes.
Then his face fell, and the internal pain was clear on his features. Kyle could imagine that he had been forced to rank certain lives above others before, but not this blatant. It was a dark side to all kinds of military force. Of course, they all strived to achieve minimal damage to their own troops, but sometimes you had to weigh out the loss and the gain. Was a captain worth more than one of his soldiers? If yes, then how about two of his soldiers, or three?
The choice Kenny faced was probably remarkably harder since he, Kyle, was considered as more than just a rebel, but also a good friend.
"I-" Kenny turned to the smirking monster that hadn't moved a muscle as he watched the internal battles going on inside the rebels' heads, "That is not something for me to decide. It's not my place. I'm sorry, Kyle, but I'm handing this ball over to you."
He truly did look sorry, but Kyle was too emotionally exhausted to feel sorry for him. Besides, he deserved it for forcing Kyle to make a decision no man should ever be required to make.
He didn't want to die; it was as simple as that, but at the same time, it wasn't. But what frightened him more than the thought of death was the possibility of returning to his rooms; to the bed that might still remember the heat coming off his body as he slept. He didn't want that bed or anything else that had belonged to the life he'd led only days earlier. He wanted it all to burn before his eyes, to see the dark smoke rise against a clear sky, until there was nothing left of it but ashes.
But no. He had a duty and a right as an older brother to make sure that nothing bad happened to his little brother, to Ike. He had failed miserably; not only had he been absent for six years, Ike had been forced to carry his burden while he was missing, but without the tools Kyle actually had. This burden had scarred him and his ego badly, and this very night, Ike had lost his best friend and was in that very moment by the feet of death himself. There was no way he would let Ike die because of him and his cowardice.
Slowly, he turned to Stan, who stared at him fearfully.
"I'm so glad that you're alive, and that I got to see you," he whispered softly.
It was just one of those moments where it felt oddly inappropriate to speak in a tone louder than a mumble.
Stan wasn't stupid, and he knew him well enough to know what it meant. As Kyle made a move to stand up, he grabbed both of his arms and kept him down.
"No!" he whispered heatedly, his pupils contracted, and Kyle was forced to keep bite his lip to keep a cry from slipping out; Stan's hands practically crushed his muscles. "You can't do that. I won't let you!"
"Stan…"
"Please."
"I'm sorry."
Not able to stand the heartbreak he knew was written over the other man's face, he gently shook the hands off of him and stood. For a moment, that was all he could do. Then he bent down and kissed Stan's forehead before straightening his back. Stan didn't react; he simply stared dimly at the small spot of flattened grass he had sat on.
Kyle turned away from him and forced his legs to move forward. Every step felt sluggish and heavy, and it felt as if the ground was trying to drag him down. His body wanted to follow; it was as if it knew where it was going and strongly disagreed with his mind, trying its hardest to make sure that it didn't get anywhere. Still, he moved forward with one step at the time.
During the walk over to Kenny, a walk that seemed endless but in reality only was slightly above thirty feet, no one made a sound. Everything he could hear was his own ragged breathing and his furiously beating heart. By the time he finally reached his destination, he felt more tired than he had when he passed out in the truck.
Kenny looked him over, worriedly and prepared to offer a supporting shoulder should it be needed. He along with the bystanders understood how Kyle had chosen, even if he had yet to voice his decision out loud.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" he muttered grimly as the redhead came up by his side. Kyle laughed dryly.
"Kenny, I can honestly say that this is about the last thing I want right now." His dull eyes met the blonde's. "But I don't really have a choice."
"I guess not."
Kenny's eyes wandered over to Ike's form, and he couldn't repress the shudder that went through his body. Kyle didn't know if it was because he feared for one of his men, Ike himself as a friend or if he imagined that it was his own little sister Karen out there on the grass, but Kenny didn't take too lightly on Ike's situation either.
The blond man cleared his throat, getting rid of eventual traces on sentimentality that he shouldn't show Fatass.
"We have made our decision. We'll make a trade; you release our hostage and we'll give you Kyle."
"NO!"
"NO!"
At first he thought it was an echo, that Stan was the only one who called, but when Fatass buried a steel clad boot into Ike's side, he knew that was not the case. He came close to leaping forward, wanting to tear off that leg from the godforsaken body it was attached to, but Kenny stopped him.
"Don't. You'll die, and then they'll die; it's pointless."
Despite the calm and reasoning words, Kenny practically snarled as he spoke.
"A wise decision, my friend, a wise decision," Fatass said when things had calmed down, mocking every sense of the word 'friend', and the son of a bitch knew it.
"I stopped being your friend when I was twelve, Cartman!" Kenny spat. "Now let them go!"
"That is not how this is going to work, McCormick. I can give you five now and remaining five when the Jew is back where he belongs." Kyle's hands clenched into tight fists when he was mentioned. He was discussed as a piece of furniture or as a pet behaving badly! "You will send him over or walk him over, do as you wish, but he will cast his shield aside. I cannot have him wearing that when we are leaving, after all. Ten of my men will come with me as I depart and make sure that no harm comes to my person. We will leave in my helicopter and will not hear from each other again. Well, until next time, at least."
"If you want Kyle, then you'll have to take me with you as well."
Stan's voice rang clear and loud in the clearing as he stepped up to his old friends. Kyle knew that he should be furious for Stan's meaningless sacrifice, and indeed he was; he was surprised that he didn't use his bottled up anger to beat the idiocy out of the stupid man. But when the warm hand slipped into his own, a joy spread throughout his body. Stan would be with him until the end; a thought that both offered comfort and made him hate himself.
"I have no issues regarding this slight change of plans," Fatass said, seemingly amused by the events playing out before him.
Still, there was something dark in his eyes that twinkled as he watched them, something that made Kyle quickly look away and squeeze Stan's hand, fishing for reassurance. He found it as Stan responded by tightening his hold.
Then it was time.
"You go first, Cartman!" Kenny called, his voice loud against the quietness of the woods. "Release them!"
"So very typical for your kind; always going for speed rather than quality."
He mocked them, but gestured for his men to untie five of those on the ground, leaving both Ike and Filmore. Kyle wondered if they even knew that Filmore was dead and not simply passed out. Then he remembered the big red-brown stain that had spread over Filmore's chest. There was no way they could have missed it; they simply counted on that the rebels weren't aware of it.
Three men and two women were hauled to their feet, and pushed, slightly disoriented, forward by Fatass' men. The soldiers watched them coldly as they stumbling made their way toward their comrades, who while they didn't dare fetch them, waited for them and let them into their protective spheres, then pulled back.
There was something very off about the soldiers. Fatass was about to throw their lives away as if they were nothing more than dirt rags, but they still remained loyal to him. Hadn't he just made it clear how worthless they were to him?
"Now it is your turn," Fatass said, still entertained by the situation as a whole.
The three men glared at him, but they all knew what had to be done. Kenny was about to step forward, leading them, but never did. After a moment of hesitation, he wrapped his arms around his old friends and hugged them tightly.
"This sucks, dudes. Big time," he muttered. "Two days ago I had none of you with me, and now I do, I have to give you up again."
"It fucking blows," Kyle couldn't help but add.
"Totally," Stan agreed, much to his friends' amusement.
Kyle chuckled and leaned his forehead onto Kenny's shoulder. A long time had passed since they had done something like this, seeking solace within each other, all three of them. His arm found its way up to Kenny's back and pulled him closer, enjoying the moment while he still could.
Even if they tried to ignore it, it was time to break apart. If they were deemed to draw things out, there was nothing that said that Fatass couldn't take it out on one of his hostages. He knew, just as well as his old-time playmates, that as long as he had Ike, he had Kyle.
And so they turned and as one and begun their march, grudgingly accepting the card fate dealt them. With Kenny's hand on his shoulder and Stan's hand in his own, Kyle felt both stronger and weaker than ever before. Kenny was the only of them who still carried a shield, which reached out and partly covered him as well. It was a strange thing; he saw the world through different eyes. One side was as dark and harsh as ever, where pools of red blood shone bright in the moonlight, a rich contrast against the pale faces of the soldiers.
But on the other side, the blue light was like a film that made the world less horrifying. The blood looked like puddles of water and the dead no longer seemed as lifeless compared to those still standing. It even softened the expressions of the faces around him; they didn't look quite as horrified or cold.
Why wasn't he surprised when Fatass looked exactly the same on both sides?
Unexpectedly, Stan interrupted his thoughts with a humorless laughter. When he looked up, he saw that the eyes weren't looking at him, but at Kenny.
"'One for all and all for one,' that doesn't seem to be very accurate right now."
The words were bitter, but not accusing. A mere statement of unfortunate circumstances.
"It's easier to speak of an action than to actually perform it, especially when there's a barrel against a head that isn't yours."
Kenny and Stan looked at each other, silently speaking of things Kyle had been away too long to completely understand. He had had his reunions, fist with Kenny and then later with Stan, but the two of them had faced each other for the first time in over two weeks and were already forced to say goodbye. As Kenny had said; he had barely time to grasp that Stan was alive until he had to let them go.
Then he stood before him, barely ten feet away, smiling in a way that would have Satan look away.
Suddenly, Kyle realized that for the first time in ten years, their little gang was complete. The last time they had seen each other, all four of them, had been in Stan's basement where they had been playing Okama Gamesphere, just like when they had when they were just kids. Whoever had claimed that children got fat because of videogames was wrong; they jumped around and flung themselves to the side without a break for several hours. Soon, the basement had been smelling foul and been disturbingly warm, but they never took their eyes of the screen. When Sharon had finally had enough, she had sent the visiting boys home and Stan to his bed. He had protested, of course, what eighteen-year old wouldn't? But a mother was a mother and her word was law.
The next day, there were only three of them playing.
In a fluid motion, Fatass raised his left hand and snapped with his fingers. Four men with blank faces immediately moved, as if their minds were one with his. They roughly shoved Kenny to the side, not sparing him a glance as they did so, on their way to reach Stan and Kyle.
Two of them grasped Kyle by the arms, the other two took Stan. Unceremoniously, their intertwined hands were yanked apart, and they were pulled to the side. Other men grabbed the hostages and dragged them away from the two men who were still facing each other.
Leader to leader, face to face, one of them considerably more satisfied with the exchange than the other. The bond they had shared when they were young, a default friendship as Kyle and Stan clearly favored each other, was long lost.
"Kenny!" The blond man winced by the sound of the unexpected call. Ike had lost his blindfold, and was terrified of what was happening. "Please, don't let them take him! God only knows what they'll do to him!"
"Shut up, Ike!" Kyle called from the other side, glaring at his brother.
Didn't Ike understand that he was saving his life? Or perhaps that was exactly what he did, and maybe Ike was trying to do the same thing for him. Well, he thought, feeling his muscles tense, that was not going to happen. Not only was he not going to allow it, he doubted that Fatass would either. The deal was made, irreversible, set in stone. He gave up not only his life but also Stan's, albeit reluctantly, the least the brat could do was being grateful.
As he predicted, Ike's words held no significance to the Fatass, who looked upon Ike with disinterest, then turned back to Kenny, who held his head lowered. He probably couldn't stand looking at Ike, Kyle, Stan or the fatso, so all that was left was the ground.
"Well then, this is the end," Fatass said, declaring their little meeting as over. "I will take what belongs to me and leave. I hope I see you again; it was a pleasure doing business with you, Kenneh."
He made fun of him again, using not only Kenny's given name but also showing that no matter how much they might wish otherwise, there would always be a connection between them. It was something they utterly despised, but they all knew it was there and as disgusting as it was, both sides used it in the attempt of getting rid of the other.
Kenny's head suddenly flew back up, and he grinned at Fatass in a way Kyle had never seen on his face before. He was glad he hadn't; he almost had a heart attack. Something dark rested over smiling man's features, something dark that made his eyes look as black as the night sky above. And, as bizarre as it was, Kenny looked completely calm and at peace.
"Not quite right, Cartman. This is the end, but the only thing you're taking with you is me."
He flung something small over his shoulder as he leaped at the bigger man, the shield suddenly gone, and by the time he reached him, he had three bullets in his back.
"OH MY GOD, YOU KILLED KENNY!"
"YOU BASTARDS!"
Still, Kenny must have used his last bit of strength to cling tightly onto his enemy, who stumbled backward and fell down on the ground, for the first time looking both fearful and shocked at the sudden attack. He tried to tear away the arms and legs, which stubbornly refused to give in, even in death.
Kyle glanced down to the ground by his feet, searching for whatever it was Kenny had thrown. His heart skipped a beat.
It should have been hard to see it in the darkness, but there it was, lying innocently on the grass. A small, black pin.
"GET DOWN!"
He didn't know who yelled the order, hell, he might even have done it himself, but that was irrelevant. After stomping on one of his captors' feet and taking a swing to the face of the other, he tore himself free and landed on the ground with his arms cowering himself. He heard Stan land less than a second after him, and saw how the freed rebels copied their actions.
For a second there was only silence. Then it happened.
The grenade exploded.
The explosion had the ground under them shaking, and he felt the body of a soldier fall down upon him, thrown off by the strong force. A wave of intense heat washed over him, it burned his arms and was accompanied by a bright, white flash that blinded him, even if he had his head buried in the trampled ground.
Then it stilled, for a moment, there was absolute silence, but it was soon disrupted by the sound of hundreds of men screaming. It wasn't the rebels; it wasn't shouts of joy and victory. No, the screaming came from the soldiers who all fell to their knees, clutching their heads and cried out their pain. Not the pain of being defeated or of losing a cherished leader, but plain, physical pain. They sounded like animals burning to death, and were scratching at the skin of their faces, drawing blood. It seemed as if they were trying to remove their brains from the rest of their bodies.
Slowly, the screaming died out and the soldiers fell to the ground one by one, their eyes glazed over and staring far off in the distance.
Kyle hadn't been able to handle the desperate screeching and howls of unimaginable pain; he had tried to block everything out, pressing his hands so hard against his head that he thought it might crack. He almost wished it had, then he would no longer be aware of the dead body on top of him.
Someone must have heard his silent prayers; the weight on top of him was carefully pushed aside, and he was pulled into a gentle embrace by strong, loving arms. His own hands came up and clutched onto the back of Stan's shirt, almost tearing it apart in the process. Stan smelled wrong, he smelled of the blood and flesh Kyle knew covered them both. Kenny was smart; he had pressed himself up tight against Fatass to make sure that the two of them took the blow, and they had. The explosion had been limited to them and them alone, but it had been a high price to pay; all that was left of them was random bits and pieces lying on the ground, looking pathetic.
It started soft, but soon grew in intensity. All over the clearing, people were sobbing and crying openly. Kyle didn't notice the tears streaming down his face as first, nor did he notice the wetness that appeared on his shoulder, but it was hard to ignore when he found that he had trouble breathing.
"Kyle?"
A small voice caught his attention. Ike had crawled over to them, just as crimson as the rest on them. His mind was malfunctioning, but it didn't stop him from hauling his little brother close, letting him in on their moment of weakness.
He sat there on the ground, tinted red by blood and reeking of copper, with his brother's head pressed against his chest and with his own buried in Stan's neck.
It was over, they had won. Fatass was dead and would never come back. He was finally free.
So why couldn't he stop crying?
Story ain't over yet, folks!
A picture of Kenny, and I dare say that this drawing is better than the last one I put up; lotsofdarkroses . deviantart . com / art / Set-in-Stone-It-Ends-Here-119087346
Lovely Jew: Glad you liked it! ^^ And yes, you may curse as much as you want, I think it's funny, but if you use words that are too bad for this site, FF will just censor you. Poopers. 'Sides, Cartman deserves it, don't you think? ^^
Animegrl421: I'm a wanna-be-author, m'dear. I channel my sadistic drives into torturing my readers instead of letting these drives control me in real life.
Syntic: Life isn't fair, sweetie, especially not in South Park. Believe it or not, but I'm not a fan of war movies or fics myself, and I can barely stand the games. So I don't know why I'm doing this. :S
Hope your ass feels better now and thank you for reviewing!
Anon(ymous?): A leash? Now that's an idea! *grin*
Quillofdestiny: Aw, man! When you can't see the future, you see the present. *pout* Yeah, that's ze Mole, we'll see more of him in the next chapter. Ooh, lookie, a fill-in-the-blanks! I always did like those. ^^
Gecko Osco: I'm glad you like it, and thank you for reviewing. ^^ I recently found a story called "that future thing", but that's all I've found that shares this concept. But I'm fairly new here, so I'd love it if you could give me the name or names of the stories. :)
Toodles, people!
