Angle~ Sarah Mclachlan

"Kyle? You home today?" I asked slowly opening the apartment door open enough to peek my head in to take in the dark, empty room.

I didn't hear anything, so I went ahead and stepped inside, making sure to shut the door quietly behind me. Once it was shut I stood silently in the almost complete darkness making no noise trying to hear something—anything! I knew even if Kyle was here, he wouldn't answer back. It'd been around a month or so, and I had hardly seen either Stan or Kyle, I couldn't think of anything bad to do that could get me in Hell, and I was too afraid of what I would find if I died and went to Heaven. So I had mostly spent my time sitting in the fetal position up in the back, darkest corner of my room fearing for my life that nothing would come down on my head, or stab me through the chest, and I'd be safe from having to face Kyle. But, eventually I fought my fear, and decided I should check on him.

Why did I need to? It's not like he was going anywhere anyway, and if for some reason he went to Hell himself, it wouldn't really be a bad thing now, would it? Speaking of which, I distinctly remembered that moment the last time I saw Stan, around two weeks ago I suggested we plot to damn Kyle to Hell too and skip the whole "thousand years of toil" thing all together, but Stan wouldn't listen. He kept going on about how he couldn't afterlive with himself if he dragged down to the shit-bag that is Hell, because Kyle didn't deserve to be there, so he was determined to continue his sentence.

Eventually I perked my head to the sound of almost nothingness, but to me I could definitely tell it was Kyle sobbing somewhere near by. I walked soundlessly towards the bathroom door, which to my advantage was left unlocked, but Kyle wasn't there. I opened the second door and saw his silhouette behind the shower curtain. I pulled that back quickly, and there he sat in the back of the large tub in the back, darkest corner, with his knees pulled up to his face, which was hidden. I stared down at him shaking there for a while; he was looking at something in his hands. I bent down looking over him trying to see what it was—the pocket-sized photo of Stan he had when he died.

"Kyle—" I said forcefully, then stopped myself. "Dude…" I lowered my voice to a whisper and slung my right leg over the side of the tub, then the other and squatted in front of him. "When was the last time you ate something?" I asked noticing the ribs sticking out from his sides because all he was wearing was underwear. "Kyle? Listen to me… you should get up, and walk a bit outside, you need sunlight."

There was no response from him, he just continued to sit there with his head hidden while shaking slightly with each small sob. Damn he must have been frozen, the sides of the tub were icy to my touch, and he was leaning his back and whole right side on it.

I looked down then, there was no way I could get to him, "Well… I should probably go… I'll just… go." I said softly standing.

Then came his voice, barely a whisper, all choked up and breathy too. "…I… hate… you…"

I looked back at him, he still hadn't moved. I was going to say something back like, "I love you too", but I didn't. I looked back down at him sitting there dead and dead and my eyes watered, because… I pretty much deserved it.

I hid it though, my getting angry or teary wouldn't help anything, so I turned away from him swiftly, "Alright… bye." I whispered, then walked away.

Not even my footsteps made sound as I half walked, half floated my way straight towards their door, and behind me I could feel Kyle's head go limp to lean against the tub as well, and he started sobbing louder, but not in an invitation for me to come back.

He lost everything. He lost Stan, all his friends and family, Stan again, and now me. I know he wanted me to be there and to help him, but he had to push me away. I didn't blame him, it was nature. But, the same, he needed me, he knew he needed me, and he ignored it, pushed me away, and now has to deal with the grief of loosing his last friend left. I wish I could have ran back in there and told him everything would be alright over and over again until I eventually believed it too, and in retrospect, I probably should have. Well, also in retrospect, I probably should have stopped Stan from stealing that ring, then he wouldn't have gone to Hell. And in retrospect, since we are talking about it, I probably should have kept my damn mouth shut at Stan's funeral. Then none of us would be in this situation, but hey? How was I supposed to know what a big impact it would have on all our lives—and afterlives?

One day your alive and well, next day your dead, day after your damned to a thousand years of Hell fire. That's just how it goes, right? You know what? Just—FUCK YOU! Alright? FUCK YOU! I said it, and I don't regret it. I remember saying something similar at Stan's funeral too, right? I don't even get why some people even worship you! Alright, I admit, Stan—all of us—might have disserved his death, I get it, circle of life. But we really must be on your hate list, aren't we? I mean, one death is good enough, you taught us our lesson; next time look both ways before stepping out into traffic, but again? I always thought nothing could be worse—or even as worse—as how Kyle felt when Stan died, but… YOU JUST HAD TO PROVE ME WRONG! AT LEAST WHEN STAN HAD DIED THERE WAS A WAY OUT! All we had to do was stab ourselves. Now Kyle's trapped. He's stuck in Heaven with no knowledgeable way to wherever Stan is, and he's not alive to do something reckless and get him sent to Hell anyway. I officially hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

I hate you like Bebe hates Red. I hate you like I hate Cartman. I hate you like Kyle hates me. So, yeah. Fuck you. And fuck all your little motives for screwing all of us over.

I pulled open the door and closed it behind me, then when it was shut I leaned back against it and slid down to the floor letting out a deep sigh. I didn't even realize I had held my breath, but I guess I had. I sat there and thought about nothing while looking up at the ceiling, then I made myself disappear into the air.

I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the sealed hole that was once in my ceiling. A lot changes in two years. I threw off my covers reluctantly and went to my dresser to slip on something comfortable and settled with a white undershirt and some navy blue boxers. The while I was putting them on, I thought about Stan, and how I should get to him immediately and tell him what happed with Kyle. Maybe it'll knock enough sense into him that he'll let me brake my promise, that'd be a relief.

I gave up that hope, though, and headed out to the living room and plopped down on the couch to watch some TV like a normal kid, he wouldn't let me tell Kyle, and I couldn't even think of a way to get to Hell. Besides, if I watch a few more episodes of A Thousand Ways to Die maybe I'll get some inspiration.

…Or, supposed something just came to me, went ahead and presented itself as a usable idea.

Maybe I could call Red, get her over here, then rape her. I'm pretty sure if Stan can steel a ring and be damned to Hell that rape will do just as well, if not better. Plus, there's a benefit to raping her, I'd finally get some action after the almost two years we've been dating.

I had gotten up and turned off the TV, and was heading for the kitchen for the phone to call her when Ding-Dong! My doorbell rang.

I went ahead and opened it lazily not bothering with the peephole, Red's the only one who ever visits me anyway, so in the end it just saved us some money from the phone bill at the end of the month. But the person standing on my doorstep was not Red. It wasn't Red, or Bebe, or my family, or Stan and Kyle if you were dumb enough to think them—they're dead for God's sakes—, it was Butters.

"Yes?" I asked rather forcefully.

"Oh!" He said, not exactly prepared for my kind of reaction. "Uh, Kenny, are you home?"

I just stared at him, what did he want? He just stood there rambling on about nothing waiting for my response as I froze to death with the door wide open.

I shoved my hand over his mouth to shut him up, "Dude, Butters, if you want to talk to me about something, come inside before my blood turns into a giant ice pop." I said pulling him inside.

He immediately took off his jacket and wet sweats and I took them and threw them on the laundry room floor, then we returned to my front room. I went ahead and sat back on the couch, he just stood rubbing his arms with his hands to keep warm, why the Hell was he wearing a tank top under his jacket in a snowstorm? Besides that he was wearing jeans, and had yet to take off the gloves and scarf.

"Well?" I asked as he still stood awkwardly. "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Right!" He said perking up at the sound of my voice. "Well, I've just noticed you've been a little bummed lately, and I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help." He said, then sat himself down in my dad's chair next to the sofa I was on.

"Well," I said thinking it over, when was my personal life his business? "I really need to get over to Red's house, or get her over here. You see, I have to get to Hell, and the way to do that is sin, then die." I explained.

"Like the Ten Commandments?" Butters asked cocking his head. "Or like the Seven Deadly Sins?"

I looked back over at him, "Ten Commandments? Deadly Sins?" I asked, was I missing something?

He looked away a minute and thought, "Well, you know, deadly sins are like greed and envy, and ten commandments are like 'Thou shall not steal' and 'Thou shall not commit adultery'."

"Second one." I said, holding up two fingers, when suddenly a word caught my attention. "Wait, did you say adultery?" I asked.

He looked at me confused, blinked a few times, then nodded, "Yeah, that's a ten commandment."

I started scheming and idea, and I could tell he was uncomfortable now by the way he stood up and went to get his coat and sweets. By the time he was back with the clothes on I had worked out my plan perfectly.

"Well, by Kenny, I'll see you on Monday, I guess." He said nervously halfway out the door. "It was nice seeing yo—"

I pulled him back inside my house before he could finish. I pulled him easily to the couch where I pushed him down, and left him to close and lock the front door, then drew the blinds on all the front windows. I walked back over to him, Butters was just eyeing me carefully to see what I was trying to do. I went ahead and startled myself over his crotch.

"Damn, this is going to feel sooo good." I hummed, a little more assuring to myself then him.

"Kenny?" He asked quietly, God, did he still have no idea what I was trying to do?

I chose to ignore him, yelling wouldn't help the situation, he'd probably turn into Jell-O, and that would do very good. I just slipped my right hand under his jacket and pulled it off and out from under him, tossing it to the side casually. Oh crap I hope I remember how to do this. Next went the sweats and the jeans, and—my God—he had on Hello Kitty underwear. I would have burst out laughing if I didn't know he might have run away.

First rule of sex; never keep you shirt on and nothing else. It gets sweaty and gross and it looks kind of weird, same goes for socks. Especially long, soccer socks. So I was sure to pull my undershirt over my head, afterwards kissing him to where his head was against the back of the couch and my tongue had to have been at least three inches down his throat. Then I started for Butters' tank top, but by the time I had it pulled up to his shoulders he cried.

And it wasn't like Kyle, it was loud, baby crying, and there were tears running down both his cheeks, and I felt like a fucking dick. I let got of his tank top, just letting it sit there, and I tried wipe some tears off his face with the palms of my hands one at a time.

"Hey, hey." I said, in the softest voice I could manage as my boner ached for attention; the little bastard. "Butters, you okay? Should I stop?" I asked.

He dropped his head down so I couldn't see his expression, then pulled the top the rest of the way off himself and flung it aside without glancing up.

"Butters, you said you wanted to do anything to help?" I asked.

He nodded slightly, then looked up, "Yeah, Ken… you're my… best friend."

"Then, do this for me, please?"

He just nodded looking down again. If rape could get me into Hell, then adultery should just add points on, no way was I getting away with this. I got up and watched him shiver a minute from the cold, then lifted his legs so I could get off his underwear, then my own. After I climbed back over to him, he wasn't surprised or scared anymore, he looked tired.

"Kenny… can we get a blanket? I'm cold." He said looking below me.

I took my hand and ran it down his side making him shiver a little, "You won't be for long."

I woke up a while later laying on my couch pressed up with a sleeping Butters. We were both naked and under a single quilt blanket, and I was freezing my ass off. I turned over so I was on my back with my head on the armrest and looked at the ceiling thinking that had to have been the best day of my life, and the only reason was because I hadn't gotten any for about two years. Then I looked back over at Butters who was still curled up next to me and almost smiling in his sleep and I though, 'What the Hell have I done?'

I was dating Red, the nicest girl in the school and I just randomly fucked Butters! I sighed to myself out loud. We had been kind of growing apart recently, I probably would have dumped her by now if I wasn't so preoccupied with Stan and Kyle all the time. Besides, she never had sex with me once the whole time we were dating! It was settled. We needed to break up.

I was pushing myself to get up and call Red when Butters shifted in his sleep, and I decided to stay that way a little longer so I wouldn't wake him, Hell knows how he'd react remembering the whole thing. I mean, he actually said before I could do anything I was his best friend. I guess I screwed that up. Poor Butters. I never did get around to apologize for the whole wallet-snatching thing a while back. Shit-tastic.

He suddenly turned over still in his sleep and wrapped his arms around my middle, giving me the death hug. Damn I was never going to get out of this. If I get up I'm afraid the kid might rip my skin off.

"Hey, Kenny…" He said sleepily.

"Woe, I didn't know you were awake." I said looking back down at him.

He just nodded slowly and sighed smiling, "Good morning."

"It's like two in the afternoon." I said noticing the clock.

"We should do that again sometime…" He said smiling sleepily up at me, and for a second I forgot where I was and what I was doing and I smiled back.

Then I frowned, as all my memories came flooding back in. I fucked Butters. I FUCKED him. And I did it while I was dating Red! God damn MIGHTY FUCK, the Hell did I do that! Stupid hormone, impulses, ideas that at the time feel good! Jesus tap-dancing Christ!

I bolted from the couch that second, leaving Butters there puzzled, and ran to the kitchen for a knife. I had the blade against the skin beyond my heart when Butters stumbled into the kitchen holding the blanket around him.

"Kenny! Don't go. Not right now, I need to talk to you." He said trying to get me to put the knife down.

I shook my head; "I'll talk to you later, Butters." I said, then pierced myself.

Satan was kind of moody when I got there, so I just got my card stamped and hurried on my marry way to go find Stan and tell him he's an ass. I found him sitting over by his little dent in the cave wall, he was still digging.

"Stan, dude, you realize what I have to do to get here?" I asked.

"Kill yourself?" He said not stopping or even turn to look at me.

"Well, that, and…" I said walking over so I could look at his face, it was dusty and caked with red dirt. "I did have to fuck Butters."

"What, seriously?" He asked, not lookin up from the shovel. "Dude, congratulations."

"No! Not congratulations! I thought you'd be all over my ass!" I yelled pulling the shovel away from him. "You're supposed to be angry with me that I'm still with Red and I cheated on her!"

He looked up at me then, and he looked like he was way too damn tired to be dealing with this crap, "Honestly, I don't really give a damn about what's going on with Middle Earth." He said, then grabbed for the shovel.

I held it behind me so he couldn't reach, "Really? Well you should! What about all that talk that I had to break up with Red because you knew this would happen!"

He reached around me and took the shovel back, "None of that matters now."

I stood there while he went back to shoveling, with my mouth hanging open, "None of it matters?" I asked softly. "What about Red? I cheated on her, and that doesn't matter? And Butters! What the Hell am I supposed to do with him! He was the last friend I had alive, and I fucked it all up, shouldn't that matter?" I said, he didn't respond. "And what about Kyle?" He stopped only for half of a second, then kept going. "Doesn't he matter?"

Stan threw down the shovel then, and turned to look me in the eyes. I was expecting him to be looking like he was about to rip my balls off, but he looked scared and helpless.

"Kyle's the one I'm doing this for." He said plainly, then picked up the shovel again.

I stood there still again and watched for a while before I let out a quiet, "What about me." I said, less than a question. "Don't I matter?"

He immediately turned around and sat on a large rock next to him to sigh and relax a second, "Kenny, I'm sorry, I know times are rough, for everyone, but I can't keep up with your personal problems. If I start chasing after you, then Kyle will be left running alone." He said. "You're one of my best friends, Kenny, but Kyle's my—"

"I know. I know." I said, cutting him off. "But Kyle's your boyfriend, I got it." I said standing up, then brushed myself off. "I should go. I got girlfriends to lie to and Butters to sort out."

"Before you go?" He called, and I turned back around. "How's Kyle?"

"You really want to know?" I asked walking back over and sitting on a rock so we were facing each other.

"Yes." He nodded.

"You son of a bitch." I shook my head. "You need to let me tell him, it's eating himself alive." I said. "I found him yesterday curled up in your bathtub crying his eyes out looking at your picture, and I swear he hasn't eaten since the day you left, he looks like if he tried standing he might collapse in on himself."

He just stared at me, probably wanting to go on, but then he said, "No. I can't."

"And why the Hell not!" I yelled.

"Kenny! Look around you! This is Hell! Literally Hell! Everywhere you go there are killers and thieves at your back! You can't go down into town for a soda without the risk of it being poisoned!" He said. "I could never live with myself if I had to watch Kyle live that life everyday here. That's why I need to go back!"

"You're just selfish!" I yelled at him. "Kyle's not dead, or alive, he's nothing without you! Right now he's starving himself to a second death, and all you can do is say 'Let him suffer!' If you love him so much, how can you even keep going without hating yourself completely!"

"You're wrong." He said standing. "I do hate myself! I hate myself every day and night, more then you could imagine! I wish I had never existed, so maybe Kyle wouldn't have to be in this mess, but here I am! I was alive! I'm dead, and I still exist! And nothing you say, or I wish can change that!" He yelled, then sat back down and I swear I saw something running down his cheek, but he hid his face from me so I couldn't get a good look. "The only reason I can keep going is because I know up there he's still waiting for me. And no matter what, Kyle will always be waiting for me, and if I give up now, then I give up on him, and he'll just sink lower and lower into depression until one day he'll just vanish from existence, and then all he'll be is a memory." He said, he was crying. "The only reason I can keep myself believing he doesn't hate me, and that I shouldn't just cease to exist is because every night I dream he's searching for me and he wants me to come home. It's just the same Goddamn nightmare every night, and I love it! It's the only thing I love about Hell.

"Even when we're two realms apart, I can still feel him, just barely beyond my fingertips, I know he's there. As long as I believe it too... I know he's right there."

I stared at him not blinking, we were all fuck ups. I felt bad for him now, it was just an honest to God mistake he made, and Stan didn't deserve this. Kyle didn't deserve this. And Hell knows Red didn't deserve being stabbed in the back. I had to go back and make things right, or—you know—at least do something.