Working a lot lately so not sure how soon next chapter will be up :(

"Oh bubby, you look so handsome."

"Thanks, ma." Kyle stood in front of the hallway mirror and adjusted his mangled tie with frustrated grunts until eventually his mother took pity on him and re-knotted it perfectly. She pulled aside his jacket with a frown having noticed the tear in his shirt. "A kriah? Honey that's not fo-"

Kyle tugged the jacket closed with a defiant pout. "Mom, please don't tell me to put on a new shirt. Besides, our rabbi isn't going to see, and no-one there's gonna know the significance. It's just for me. And for Cartman," he added quietly.

Her eyebrows knitted together even more. "Bubby, were you and… I mean, are you… No, never mind. It doesn't matter." She tidied his jacket back in place with a shake of her head, then left a large wet lipstick print on his forehead. "Alright bubby, we'll say no more about it."

A grateful smile beamed from her son's face and she was relieved to see such an expression on him for the first time in months. He turned back to the mirror, clipping his black kippah in place on top of his unruly curls. "Hey ma, I was thinking. Could we go see Mrs. Cartman before? See if she wants any company? Kenny said her family are meeting her at the service and I don't like the idea of her going all by herself."

Mrs. Broflovski's eyes began to brim. "Such a sweet boy. Of course we can." They had both been up since the early hours, unable to sleep, and looking out of the window they had seen the lights on in Mrs. Cartman's kitchen. She often cooked when stressed.

At the door she was shocked to see Kyle again so soon but relaxed at his mother's presence, inviting them in, did the usual, "Oh goodness I must look such a mess," that most people did when guests turned up uninvited. In all fairness she did look a bit unkempt having spent most of the night baking; covered in flour and cinnamon and other nice sweet ingredients.

Cartman must have been going through Hell surrounded by the fragrance.

Kyle snuck upstairs. Aside from wanting to watch over Mrs. Cartman as a kind of penance for his role in her son's demise, he had correctly guessed that Cartman would oversleep. He stood over him for a moment with a sage grin before poking him awake. Cartman rolled over, cursing as his wing folded painfully in a way it wasn't meant to fold. Kyle snickered at him. "I knew you wouldn't get up in time."

Cartman's eyes widened as they focused on him. The Jew looked good in black. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and flopped out of bed.

"Ready?"

Cartman met his gaze coolly. "As I'll ever be."

Stretching out with a sleepy moan, Damien felt nothing, or rather no-one, beside him on the bed. Throwing off the covers and retrieving his robe he made for his living quarters and found what he expected – Pip once again disobeying his rules.

"I'm sorry, my love!" Pip squeaked as he was lifted by his hair.

"No, I'm sorry," Damien hissed in his ear. "I obviously haven't made it clear to you that your punishments will be far more severe if my father catches you instead. It's like you want to be erased." He dropped Pip back to the ground and caressed his face with deceptive affection. "Look what you make me do to you, Pip. You know I only hurt you to save you from Father's wrath."

"My apologies, dear one."

Damien smiled at his well-trained puppy. "So, what's so exciting in your pathetic little soap opera that you would defy your one true love's orders?"

"Oh it's so terribly sad," Pip mused. "Cartman is miffed that he died because of Kyle and Kyle feels ever so guilty, except that Butters helped smooth things over last night but I still think things are a little awkward especially with the funeral about to happen."

"Butters?"

"The little nervous blond boy, do you remember him? The quiet one, not the twitchy one."

Damien had a vague idea whom he meant. "Sounds fascinating," he said with more than a little dash of sarcasm. "But thank you for being concise."

Pip curled up in front of the portal, watching as Kyle parted ways with Cartman to join his family in their car. Mrs. Cartman had chosen to go alone to the funeral, unaware that actually her son would be sat beside her in the cab. He was curious how Cartman felt about that. About everything.

"Butters, you asshole! Don't speak for me when you don't know shit and I'm too dead to stop you!" Cartman had pounded his fists on his thighs fruitlessly when Butters dove into Kyle's arms last night wailing about how much Kyle meant to him. For a heart-stopping moment (not that it would matter as his heartbeat was merely a comforting simulation) he thought Butters was going to blab about San Francisco as he started to splutter about it between sobs, asking if Eric had ever told Kyle the truth. Kyle had looked at Cartman in confusion but seeing the abject terror on his face he pretended to know what Butters was talking about.

Great, thought Cartman. He was going to have to explain it at some point. But it was better than Butters explaining it. He'd probably make it sound gayer than it was. Cartman just wanted his favourite victim back, that was all.

"Look, Butters, all that stuff from before – me talking to myself like Cartman was here – it's just a coping mechanism," Kyle explained once Butters' crying died down. He pulled back his wet face from Kyle's chest and knelt patiently between his legs as he continued. "I pretend that Cartman is right in front of me and I unload any guilt or sadness or anger I have and I play out his reaction in my mind."

"Well, I think you're getting it wrong," said Butters. "Eric would never blame you for taking his kidney. Maybe me, and Stan, because we were in on it. But you hardly even knew what was happening."

Goddammit, Cartman sulked. He had a point.

"Well," Kyle said with a significant look at Cartman, "maybe in my imagination he needs to lash out at someone. Sometimes even if there's no-one to blame, we still do, because it makes us feel better. And I don't mind because it makes me feel better too."

Cartman shifted around on the bed, refusing to meet his gaze.

"Am I interrupting?" The three boys looked over at Kenny leaning casually on the doorframe. "Care to explain, Kyle?" he remarked at the sight of his boyfriend on his knees between Kyle's thighs. Butters ran over for a hug and kiss, too naïve to understand what Kenny was hinting at. Kenny wrapped him up eagerly, offering Kyle a meaningful wink. He knew that whatever had been going on, it was all perfectly harmless – Kyle being too loyal and Butters being too innocent.

"We were just bonding over Cartman."

"Bonding huh? That what the kids are calling it these days?"

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Kenny."

"Liane wants to know if we're all staying for food. You in?"

"Oh, no, I only came over to find something in Cartman's room," Kyle mumbled.

The couple raised questioning eyebrows. "Okay then," said Kenny, shrugging off Kyle's intriguing ambiguity. "See you downstairs."

Kyle breathed out in relief once they were gone. Cartman was looking at him with the same interest as Kenny and Butters. "Your will, Cartman, remember? People will wonder how I got hold of it."

"Oh. Yeah," Cartman grunted.

Kyle pretended to rummage around for a bit. Cartman watched on, mutely. His wings fluttered when Kyle bent over to look through his closet.

"Okay," he said finally, brushing down his pants and fixing his ushanka from where it had tilted forward as he rooted through Cartman's shoes. "I think that'll convince them. I'll head out now."

"Kyle."

He stopped at the door, didn't dare turn around.

Cartman picked at one of the snacks Kyle had been given by Mrs. Cartman. It crumbled easily between his fingers and the scent of ginger that rose up drove him crazy. Ginger always drove him crazy, in every form. "It makes no sense if you turn up just to read my will. And you can't just leave it lying around – people will wonder where it came from. So… I guess you can come to the funeral."

"Really?" Kyle tried not to sound too excited. "If you're sure?"

"Whatever."

"You're still staying here tonight, I take it? Want me to come over in the morning and make sure you get up?"

"Jesus Kyle, I'm not stupid enough to miss my own funeral. Gawd."

Kyle chuckled lightly. "Okay well, see you tomorrow?"

He shrugged, "You're the only one who can."

Kyle chuckled again and left him to it. Cartman collapsed back onto his big and empty bed that had never before seemed big and empty. He didn't like it, not one bit.

Next Chapter:

It was then that Cartman noticed how dark his eyelashes were, unusual for a ginger. And he only noticed because they were so close to his own. In fact Kyle's whole face was close to his. Oh, said Cartman's brain as it suddenly kicked into gear, he's kissing you.