Chapter 11

"Dancing through life, swaying and sweeping, and always keeping cool,"

"Is he still staring?" Kyle asked Tweek as he shoved his shovel in the patch of dirt. Tweek did the same and chanced a side glance at the Commandant that watched them from afar; or as they both knew he was actually watching Kyle.

"Ye-yeah and he looks pretty p-pissed off," that made Kyle smirk in delight. Good, let him have his fit. Kyle knew the Commandant was pissed at him for ending their lesson early but he couldn't bring himself to feel guilty. Let the Nazi be butt hurt for all I care, they deserve misery for what they are doing to us. Kyle internally groaned and cursed himself for having these thoughts knowing he was raised better than that. He was raised to be humble and understanding, to never judge a person from their actions, and to never hate. Though it seemed however that the Nazis were karma's flaw in the system.

"You su-sure ignoring him is the b-best idea?" Tweek asked with hesitation and uncertainty. Kyle smirked and wiped sweat from his brow; even though the weather was cooling down significantly they were still sweating from their heavy workloads every day.

"Aren't we technically supposed to ignore them? Keep our heads down and stay out of the way? I mean it's not like he has actually approached me to talk. Not that I'd talk to him anyway," the two boys shared a laugh but didn't dare stop working; they never stopped working when they were assigned to their daily duties.

Just as the boys laughter was dwindling, Tweek was shoved forward face first in the dirt. "Tweek!" Kyle gasped in worry over his friend. "What's your problem fatass?" Kyle snapped dropping his shovel and started to drop down to help his friend up but before he even moved towards Tweek, he was grabbed with force by the wrist and Cartman, standing behind Kyle, twisted his arm behind him. Kyle winced in pain.

"Remember your place Jew, we're outside now. You don't get to say what you want out here," Cartman hissed with malice against Kyle's ear, twisting Kyle's arm tighter. He almost cried out but instead inhaled deeply and mentally counted to ten to keep himself in check; he didn't need a repeat of what happened last time he blew up at the Commandant in the yard.

"You're problem is with me sir, leave Tweek out of it," Kyle whispered with a hiss through his own pain. For a moment the Commandant said nothing, just kept his tight grip on Kyle keeping him against his body. To Kyle, this felt so wrong from how he felt last night.

Kyle was practically running towards the front door of the Villa to get away from the dancing lesson, but more so to get away from the Commandant. Just as he reached for the knob a voice called out behind him. "Kyle! Kyle wait!" Kyle turned to see Clyde running towards him.

"Whatever that fatass has to say I'm not listening. The lesson is over tonight," Kyle snapped without fully meaning to, especially at Clyde who had been very kind to him earlier. Clyde caught up with him, took a moment to catch his breath, and then shook his head.

"Oh he's already retired to his room, probably sipping whiskey by now," Clyde shrugged as if he really didn't care what Cartman was doing and in that moment Kyle wondered just how loyal Clyde actually was to his Commander. "Kyle, I can't let you leave like this." Kyle gave a look of confusion.

"But I just said the lesson is over,"

"Your clothes. You can't return to the barracks in those." Kyle looked down at himself where he noticed he was still wearing the black slacks and white shirt.

"Oh, yes that would probably not be very smart." Since their lessons were secret, it wouldn't do good to return to the barracks dressed in nice clothes. The prisoners would talk, after they ripped the new clean clothes from his body; many of the prisoners had gone insane over the months Kyle had been at the camp.

"Your uniform was just put in the dryer, it's still wet I'm afraid. If you don't mind waiting I can-"

"No it's fine, I'll take them wet. I just want to get back and get some rest. It's been a long day," which wasn't a lie, it just wasn't the whole truth. Clyde looked at him with uncertainty.

"Are you sure? It keeps getting colder every day, especially at night. You may get sick," but Kyle shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"I'll be fine Clyde, I have a strong immune system. It took forever for me to get the chicken pox, I was the last one in class to get it." Clyde shook his head with a smirk.

"But that doesn't make you immune Kyle, but if you're sure then come with me for your clothes," and Kyle did.

After changing out of his dress clothes, and into his wet but clean uniform, he left the villa and made his way carefully and quiet back to the barracks. The guards had been informed ahead of time that Kyle would be coming and going, but Kyle highly doubted Cartman told them the real reason for his required presence in the villa and he wasn't sure he even wanted to know what he told his soldiers. Without even giving the guards a glance Kyle walked passed them to enter the barracks and made it to his room number.

Even in the dark Kyle found his family's bunk with no trouble. His brother was sleeping soundly with his father and Kyle thanked god that they were able to sleep so soundly, and he felt incredibly blessed that it seemed like his little brother was able to sleep nightmare free. At least for now anyway.

Kyle was happy to find Tweek sleeping in their bed, he was worried that Tweek would be too worried about him tonight with the lesson with the Commandant, even though he knew, at the time, that Craig would be with him; he'd tell him otherwise tomorrow. Any time Kyle saw Tweek sleeping he gave him that and went out of his way to avoid waking him, even if it meant sleeping on the floor.

Kyle found the always vacant corner near his bunk and sat down, bending both knees against his chest and placing his elbows on them. He sighed into his hands as he processed the situation he just had with the Commandant, a situation that the Commander was oblivious to and Kyle wanted to keep it that way. Hell Kyle wished he could go on feeling oblivious, like nothing happened, that he felt nothing when he was in that starting position with Cartman; but he had. Not only had he felt incredible warmth from Cartman, but there was something else, something that he had never felt with any other dance partner he had ever been paired with. It was such a clliché, something that he only read about in books and fairy tale stories and never thought what he felt actually existed. When Kyle and Cartman came together in that starting position for the Viennese Waltz, Kyle felt a spark between them, a spark that felt like they were meant to dance together, that they fit into each other as easily as a puzzle piece. Just from that starting pose, Kyle sensed that dancing with Cartman was right.

Kyle groaned and palmed both his eyes in annoyance. But it wasn't right, there was no way it could be. Cartman was a Nazi, a bloodthirsty sadistic monster who hated them all and wanted to make all of their lives a living hell. Why in the hell would dancing with him feel right? Him of all people? Why would Kyle have felt that with the Commandant of a concentration camp during a war, but not with a normal and sane dance partner? It just didn't make any sense and Kyle wasn't about to try and sort it out. It had to be a fluke, plain and simple. Kyle hadn't danced in a very long time, his body just missed it so much and was confused. That had to be it, it had to be.

"K-Kyle?" Kyle looked up from his knees to see a very disheveled Tweek, who still looked like he was half asleep. Hell, Kyle wouldn't doubt he may even be sleep walking; he'd seen Tweek do it before. Kyle was about to say something but Tweek groaned and sat down right next to Kyle. Tweek leaned against his side, laid his head on Kyle's shoulder and wrapped their pinkies together. "It's okay Kyle," Tweek said nothing more and Kyle was sure that he had fallen right back asleep, but Kyle was still very touched that his friend cares about his well being so much. Kyle smiled and laid his head upon Tweek's.

"Thanks Tweek." Kyle didn't remember falling asleep but when he woke up again, Tweek and Kyle were still on the floor.

With how he was feeling right now being held by Cartman, he had to assume that, yes, what he felt last night was a fluke; a one time thing that he was sure to never happen again. "Just watch that mouth of yours Jew. Now, you and the freak get back to work." With that, Cartman shoved Kyle down where he collided with Tweek in the dirt. Cartman turned to leave, but suddenly turned back. "Oh, and Kyle, I've decided on a change in our schedule, or should I say your schedule," Cartman looked around as if making sure no prisoners were listening in on them, though it seemed he didn't care that Tweek heard him. Cartman probably assumed Kyle told him everything since they were friends, and he wasn't wrong. "I've decided on the days that you aren't with me, you'll be with Craig. We will not have any joined lessons and you will be working weekends," Kyle's right eye twitched and his face contorted in anger. Was he serious? Was he fucking serious?! He had to do his normal work days in the camp and teach lessons every night?!

"When do expect me to sleep?" Kyle hissed through his teeth, but his anger only seemed to amuse the Commandant.

"Not my problem, Jew."

"You're trying to work me into an early grave aren't you?" Cartman chuckled and winked at Kyle, an action that left a foul taste in his mouth.

"You found me out Jew,"

"You son of a-"

"Kyle don't," Tweek said calmly, grabbing Kyle by the wrist and pulling him back down. He hadn't even noticed he had started to charge at the Nazi commander. Cartman smiled and turned to walk away.

"Craig will see you tonight Kahl," Cartman waved over his shoulder as he walked away.

"Fucking fatass," Kyle whispered under his breath but loud enough that Tweek heard it.

"Don't w-worry Kyle, I'm trying t-to blow him up w-with my mind," Kyle smiled and helped his friend finally to stand up.

"If only,"

/

"You'll be happy to know that your boyfriend is very light on his feet," Kyle told Tweek over dinner the following night; dinner consisting of only a slice of bread and water. Tweek's face flushed, eyes widened and he looked around like a madman.

"Relax Tweek, no one else likes sitting with us remember." Kyle's father and brother were the only ones who ever sat with them because no one ever wanted to be around "the freak" of the barracks. That suited Kyle just fine since they could be free of eavesdroppers.

"Oh yeah," Tweek said trying to take a couple deep breathes to ease his small panic attack. "Well, Craig isn't exactly a novice when it comes to dancing. His father died when he was very young and his mother fell into depression shortly after so Craig pretty much had to raise his baby sister, Ruby, by himself. Every now and then their mother would come out of it and actually be a mother, but for the most part Craig raised Ruby. Craig did everything for Ruby. Got her up in the mornings, got her ready for school and made sure she had lunch every day even if it meant he went without. Craig even learned how to braid so he could braid Ruby's hair," Kyle gave a look of understanding, or rather more of acceptance because he couldn't say he understood. Kyle was lucky enough to grow up with both of his parents, and because his father was a lawyer they lived a comfortable life and never really seemed to struggle. He couldn't imagine raising Ike on his own and he prayed that after the war, he wouldn't have to.

"How did he learn to braid? I don't see a serious guy like him checking a book out of the library about braiding." Tweek laughed at his comment and then rubbed the back of his neck with a blush.

"I taught him. I used to braid strings, hoping it would help with my anxiety." Kyle didn't ask further on that subject because he got the feeling Tweek didn't want to talk about it. "But, Craig did check books out about dancing. Nothing fancy, but enough to teach Ruby some dance moves for her school dances," Kyle was really moved by that, learning small dances to teach his sister, it was really sweet. It was hard to believe that a boy who learned to dance for his sister, and loved Tweek unconditionally, was the same boy who was now a Nazi first officer. Kyle tried to believe in him like he knew Tweek did, but he couldn't bring himself to trust him. Craig had already broken Tweek's heart and Kyle didn't want to see that happen again.

"Makes sense why he didn't seem like a total novice. Teaching Craig is going to be a lot easier than teaching the fatass." Just as the two boys smiled Kyle suddenly sneezed and everyone who heard him looked at him in terror and disgust. Most of the time when men got sick in the camp the hope for recovery was slim to nil. You either collapse dead from your illness, or you get sent away because you are no longer fit to work and those that got sent away never came back. "Sorry my shoes and clothes are spoken for," Kyle bitterly told the men around him. Too often when one of the men died in the barracks several men would dog pile the corpse and wrestle for the deceased clothes and shoes; it really was a barbaric sight.

The men rolled their eyes and went back to avoiding Kyle like they always had.

"Kyle are y-you sure you're o-okay? That is the t-third time you've sneezed today." Kyle bit his lip, he didn't realize he had even sneezed at all earlier in the day and was a little surprised Tweek was keeping track.

"I'm fine, Tweek, probably just inhaled too much dirt. We've been digging in the trenches a lot lately, my lungs are probably filled with dirt." He tried to present Tweek with a smile of confidence but he knew his friend saw right through him. Truth was, Kyle prayed that he wasn't getting sick, he didn't want to be separated from his family by any means; being parted from his mother was just too much.

"Have my water son," Gerald spoke up, pushing his cup towards Kyle. Kyle shook his head with a smile and pushed it back to his father.

"No papa I'm really fine. It's just a reaction from the dirt, you need it more than I do," and Kyle truly believed that. His father had been looking worse and worse every passing week, so much that Kyle was very scared for him, terrified that he would be taken away because he may no longer be able to work soon. But if the Commandant kept his word, he wouldn't be sent away, he would be safe. Of course Kyle did not trust the word of a Nazi so until then, he would worry and try to keep his father as strong as he could. "Drink it papa, for me and Ike," Kyle gripped his father's forearm firmly and smiled in assurance to help prove that, in his father's eyes, he was okay. If Gerald still wanted to argue further, he didn't and finished his water.

Tweek leaned in close to Kyle so his father wouldn't overhear and said, "If you h-have to sneeze tonight, make sure you d-do it in the fatass' face."

/

"Would you mind explaining Kahl, why you taught Craig more in his first lesson than mine? You do remember that I am in charge and not him right?" was the very first thing Cartman said after Kyle had his shower and met him for his lesson; Kyle was only allowed a shower on the days he trained with Cartman and not Craig. Didn't want to disgust the Commandant but who cared about the first officer, is what it felt like to Kyle. But he couldn't complain about that aspect, a hot shower was a nice luxury to help cope with this arrangement.

"As I explained the other night sir, I was very tired and weak, there was nothing more to it." It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the full truth either, but there was no way in hell that Kyle was about to tell the Commandant, "Oh yeah, it actually felt right being held by you, a Nazi, and that terrified me." Repeating it again now in his head the way he did made him sound absolutely insane.

"Whatever Jew. Just don't expect to do the same thing today. You're teaching me until I say we're done you got that Jew?" Even though Kyle nodded, he was glaring at Cartman to show that he was not intimidated.

"Yes sir,"

"Good, now check my position so we can actually start taking steps, okay Kahl," and before Kyle could answer, Cartman got into the started up stance for the waltz.

"That's actually pretty perfect," Kyle was actually genuinely impressed that it was pretty close to a perfect stance. "Shoulders back just a tiny bit more and it's flawless." Cartman adjusted so. "Wow, you've actually been practicing?" Cartman glared at him.

"As much as it kills me having to do something a Jew tells me, you did tell me to practice," Kyle didn't miss the rush of color on Cartman's cheeks; that really embarrassed him to say.

"Yeah but I didn't think you'd actually listen to me." Cartman rolled his eyes, gave an exasperated sigh, and lowered his stance.

"I'm taking this seriously, Jew and if that means doing something a Jew rat like you tells me, then I'll do it. If I had to choose I'd rather be kicked in the balls." Kyle bit his lip in a chuckle.

"I'd be happy to make that happen," Kyle actually saw Cartman's eye twitch and his hands balled into fists.

"Do it and see what happens." For a moment Kyle really did consider it, Cartman deserved a kick to the balls and much more.

"As tempting as it is, I don't exactly have all night so let's get started," and this time Kyle got into the starting stance. "The simplest way to learn the Viennese Waltz is to start with the natural box with natural turn. You will lead with your right foot, watch closely," Kyle took a step with his right foot and moved forward. "1 2 3," he turned. "2 2 3, turned again while moving. "3 2 3," turned again and moved. "4 2 3," and ended up in the same position he started in.

"Do it again," Cartman ordered as soon as he finished. Kyle was about to blow up at him thinking he wasn't paying attention, but when he looked at the Commandant he was staring at Kyle's feet without blinking.

"Yes sir, remember lead with the right foot," and he started again in the natural box step. "1 2 3, 2 2 3, 3 2 3, 4 2 3," when Kyle returned to his starting position he noticed Cartman was still staring at his feet. He really is paying attention.

"Okay, I think I got it." Cartman stood straight with his shoulders back, arms in the right position and he took a step forward.

"Lead with the right sir, not the left," Kyle corrected as soon as he took the step with the wrong foot.

"I did step with my right Kahl," Cartman looked down as if to prove to Kyle that he was right, but then groaned when he saw that it was wrong. "Why do I have to lead with the right foot? It feels wrong, you must be wrong," Cartman said, clearly flustered that he got the first step wrong.

"I've been dancing since I was 8, I don't get it wrong. You must lead with the right foot forward because your partner will step back with their left foot sir. So unless you want to step on her feet and risk crushing them, you'll learn to lead with your right, sir." Cartman glared daggers at Kyle.

"Ay! Was that a fat joke Kahl?" the Commandant snapped and Kyle rolled his eyes. He actually did not mean it the way Cartman took it, but he supposed the insult was a better hit to his ego than the regular statement he meant.

"No sir, besides, I have better fat jokes in my arsenal than that. Now let's-" Kyle sneezed mid sentence and kept talking. "continue. Try again, this time leading with your right foot," but Cartman didn't move, in fact he didn't say anything. When Kyle looked at Cartman to see if he had heard him, the Commandant was looking at him like he had two heads. Kyle just assumed he was repulsed by his sneeze, or terrified that he would catch something. "It's just allergies sir, I've been inhaling a lot of dirt. Someone seems to think it's funny shoving me face first in it." this seemed to snap Cartman out of whatever daze he was in because he gave Kyle a wicked smile.

"You just don't watch where you're going Kahl, not my fault you're clumsy." Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I'll try to be more careful. Now back to the lesson. I know it feels unnatural to lead with the right, but practice makes perfect. Try again sir, this time instead of trying the box, let's just get down starting with the right foot. I'm going to count to three and after three step off on the count of one." Kyle expected Cartman to argue further or give some smartass retort, or even be confused, but he didn't. Cartman readied his stance and looked down at his feet. "Sir, keep your head up, if your head is down it will mess up your posture." Kyle gently lifted Cartman's chin with the sides of his fingers and smiled at the panicked look he gave him. "Seeing your feet won't command them to move, you can do this. Now let's try. Ready?"

Cartman said nothing but nodded and Kyle wasn't exactly sure he wanted to know what was going through his head in this moment, all he knew was he had a look of bewilderment. "Okay, here we go. One and Two and Three and One," Kyle watched as Cartman's left leg twitched as if he was about to move it, but quickly caught himself and sloppily extended his right. "Better sir, sloppy, but better."

For at least half an hour they worked solely on starting with the right foot until Cartman got it down. Once the had the first step down, for the most part, they moved on to the natural box; which Cartman was anything but. If Kyle told him to turn right, he went left, if he told him to turn left, he went right. After several hours they were both reaching a boiling point with each other and the lesson, mainly because the Commandant was very frustrated in himself for not getting it and taking it out on Kyle. "Just because you're moving your feet doesn't mean you let your posture fall."

"God damnit Kahl it isn't easy! I'm not Mr. Perfect Dancer of 8 Years!" Kyle licked his lips and rolled his neck in annoyance.

"I've been dancing since I was eight, not for 8 years fatass."

"Well la di freaking da,"

"Just try again, sir."

They went back and forth for another two hours until they reached a point where they were arguing instead of practicing and decided 2am was late enough and the Commandant dismissed Kyle.

"And stop sneezing so much Jew!"

/

"Tweek, why can't your boyfriend teach that fatass to dance? He at least knows what he is doing," Kyle groaned into Tweek's shoulder two evenings passed at "dinner". Even though the other prisoners were avoiding Kyle like he had the black plague, his sneezing had developed to harsh deep coughing, Tweek still made sure no one was listening in on them.

"Because Craig only knows the basics, he doesn't know how to actually waltz and I know he would never tell Cartman that he actually knows anything." This got Kyle's attention enough to look up from his resting place on Tweek's shoulder.

"Tweek, did you guys know him before the war?" Kyle coughed and made sure to turn his head away from Tweek.

"Y-yes. We went to s-school together for years. I didn't know it but Craig and Cartman entered the r-regime together. Cartman was a jackass then and a j-jackass now. Craig hated him and would never confess to him that he knows how to dance, he would have bullied Craig for it. I can say I fully believe Craig would not help Cartman despite being his first officer. Cartman hated me, but he tolerated Craig and maybe in some twisted reality saw Craig as his friend. But Craig is a very closed off person, he won't tell his life story to just anyone."

"Yeah, I got that from our lessons. He barely talks and it's like pulling teeth for him to answer me. I think I made him too mad last night because he flipped me off." That made Tweek chuckle.

"Yeah he does that, don't take it personally. That's how he shows emotion believe it or not. I think I'm the only one who has ever seen him smile." Kyle didn't miss the look of pride on Tweek's face when he said this. Kyle smiled and returned his head to Tweek's shoulder with a groan.

"Wake me when they dismiss us." Kyle closed his eyes, hoping he could rest for a few minutes before he had to meet with the Commandant.

Across the table Gerald was watching his son in worry. He knew Kyle was getting sicker each day, mainly because he had no room for rest. They worked him all day in the camp and then well into the morning hours with the Commandant and his first Lieutenant. From across the table he could see the small beads of sweat forming on the back of Kyle's neck, signs of a fever. Tweek met Gerald's concerned look with his own, they were both worried about him.

/

"You look like shit," was the first thing Cartman said when they met that night after Kyle's shower; which took twice as long because it was more soothing than normal due to his sickened state.

"Thanks, you're not so bad yourself fatass." Kyle meant it as an insult but was too weak to determine if it actually came off as an insult. Kyle got a good look at himself in the mirror earlier and knew he looked awful. He was paler than what was normal for him, he was hot, sweaty and clammy, and his eyes had bags and looked like they would close any minute. But what could Kyle do? He had a lesson with the Commandant, he would have to rest later. "Let's just get started. You were doing satisfactory the other night with the natural box, now lets try it with pointing your toes."

"What do you mean pointed toes? This isn't ballet." Kyle inhaled a breath; he really wasn't in the mood tonight for Cartman's attitude.

"No it's not, but most dancing requires pointed toes and feet. You don't want to stomp around flat footed like a Tyrannosaur. The waltz is supposed to be," Kyle stopped because he was having a coughing fit, he made sure to turn away so he wouldn't cough all over the Commandant; he knew he would pay for it if he did. After his fit he turned back to continue addressing Cartman, but he was gone. "Sir?" a moment later Cartman came back from the kitchen holding a glass of water with ice.

"Here," he said offering it to Kyle without looking at him. For a moment Kyle stared at it dumbstruck, as if contemplating that the water was an hallucination. "They are ice cubes Kahl, not poison. Drink it, Jew."

"Thank you sir," and Kyle took the water and chugged it; fresh ice cold water was even more heavenly than a hot shower. "Thank you," Kyle repeated after he was finished.

"You said that, once is enough," he took the glass from Kyle and set it aside. "Let's continue." Kyle went about showing Cartman how to move in the natural box with pointed feet.

"The waltz is supposed to be fluid, from head to toe, not choppy and bulky," Kyle stated making sure Cartman understood the importance of pointed feet.

Over the next hour Cartman practiced moving around the room in the box set with pointed toes, which was really hard for him; he was in no way light on his feet. "Don't let your shoulders drop," Kyle called out while Cartman was turning. He had a bad habit of focusing on his feet so much that his perfect posture dropped.

A half hour later it was getting harder for Kyle to breathe, so much that he had to breathe through his mouth. He was sweating more and it was harder to concentrate, but he had to keep going. "Better, try again. One and two and three and," but Kyle swayed on the spot but caught himself, blinking his world back into focus.

"Kahl?"

"I'm fine, again. One and two-" but Kyle couldn't keep going, Kyle's vision blurred, he swayed again, this time unable to right himself and tumbled forward.

"Kyle!" hearing his name shouted properly was the last thing he heard before he blacked out.