Oh man Oh man, this fucking season right? I'm loving this shit even though every second Heidi is on screen makes my eyes bleed.

Anyway, I shall be ignoring this season in regards to this fic as I fleshed out the plot months ago, so lenience over relationship dynamics would be appreciated. I'm not going to say what I'm talking about for those who haven't seen it but the rest of you know what I mean.

Over on the court, Kyle called 'Uncle' as Butters landed his second basket. The ginger boy's breath rasped heavily as he bent over and clung to his thighs. "You… win… dude. Two out of… three is enough."

"Serious?" Butters bounced the ball lightly on his fingers. "I get engaged AND I beat Kyle Broflovski at basketball? This is the best day of my life! Well I mean, if Eric were here to see it that is."

Kyle dropped to the floor and dried his face with his shirt, Butters's quiet musing echoing in his fuzzy head. "Maybe it's a good thing. You guys might have fought over whose best man he was going to be."

Butters contemplated the set-up with an endearingly earnest frown. "I guess we'd have compromised and had him as Maid of Honour."

"Dude, I would pay good money to see that." Kyle kicked at the ground in a fit of giggles. "Cartman would look kind of hot in a dress."

"You think so?" said Butters and his lips pursed further.

"Well, I mean…" Kyle's face flushed. How did one explain they were attracted to a dead person all of a sudden? He didn't particularly want to share that information anyway, especially with Butters.

"Hey Kyle, you know how you keep talking to Cartman?"

"Yeah…"

"Reminds me of the last time he 'died'."

"The last time?"

"You don't remember?" Butters shuddered and rubbed his butt. "I sure as heck do. You guys were all ignoring him and he thought he was dead and tried to-"

"Perform good deeds!" Kyle finished with a scream.

"I thought I was super-special for being the one person who could see him," Butters nodded sadly. "Guess not."

Kyle ignored him, wracking his head. A childhood prank come to life, or rather death. Did Satan get the idea from them? How was that possible?

He was saved from his thoughts by an altercation on one of the other courts. He heard Cartman (of course he was the only one to hear) yell his trademark, "AY!" across the breeze to the other side of the courts and he looked up at a small gang of young men harassing some kids. Kyle's internal instinct for social responsibility always marched him headlong into confrontation and today was no different. As he got closer he realised why Cartman had yelled.

There in the middle of the apathetic youths was Scott Tenorman.

Kenny had saved his soul. That was a big thing to get his head around. His father wasn't even entirely sure how, only that it had something to do with the Cult of Cthulhu and his immortality. Cartman had been 'blessed' by Kenny.

"Like Hell I have! I think I'd fucking remember something like that!" Cartman screeched, mostly from embarrassment.

"Eric, when I said Kenny had been inside you, I meant literally. You don't remember being possessed by him?"

"Well yeah, we played a game where Kenny died most weeks, and one time we pretended he possessed me but that was just kids messing around, right?"

"It really happened, Eric."

"No way! You're shitting me!"

They'd put all that nonsense down to kids' imaginations in spite of how real it still felt. Kenny dying, Kenny being a zombie, a spirit, going to Hell, going to Heaven. He didn't know exactly why it was always Kenny getting the short end of the stick in their games but he put it down to him being poor and easily mocked. And Kenny was a good sport, seemed to see the funny side.

But if it had all been true then Kenny had been dying and reincarnating all this time with nary a bother.

"So why hasn't the asshole come to visit me? He could slit his wrists in the morning, play games with me in Kyle's room all day then fuck off home ready to come back the next day."

"Why would I know? That's something you'll have to ask him."

"I can't, dumbass." Though he could get Kyle to ask. Would Kenny mind if he told Kyle? Be fine having something like that exposed without his permission? Had he ever tried to tell them and they'd forgotten, like all his deaths. Maybe he should talk to Kyle about it. He was smart and mostly sensible. He wouldn't care what Kenny was, or himself. At least he didn't think so. He hoped not. But, "Surprise oytser, I'm a demon," wouldn't normally go down well in a developing relationship.

"I don't know if I should be telling you this, but it might be prudent in the circumstances," Jack said, bringing Cartman sharply out of his thoughts. "It might make you feel better. Or it might make you feel worse."

"Well which is it?" asked Cartman. Not that it mattered. He was reeling over Jack's revelations and all he wanted was to go back and have Kyle smother him with kisses until he felt normal again. "Just tell me everything already so I can go home."

"Satan put a block on Kenny's abilities. With your souls being linked, he would normally be able to see you."

"So Satan didn't need to bother making Kyle my helper? It would have been easier to make it Kenny if he could already see me."

"Actually, it was always meant to be Kenny." Jack smirked at Cartman's down-turned expression. "What? You didn't honestly think Kyle was the 'closest person' to you? Once Satan realised how you were connected and that Kenny had 'left his mark' on you he had to make sure you never found out."

So there it was; the cold hard fact that there was no deep underlying destiny. He and Kyle were purely an accident of circumstance. And so were Butters and Kenny.

"Why does it even matter?" he whispered dolefully.

"Ah, my poor boy," Jack tried to console him with the first fatherly pat on the back Cartman had ever gotten from him, or anyone really. He didn't appreciate it. Jack knelt beside him looking inwardly for the best and fastest segue into the rest of the story.

He was running out of time.

One-on-one between Kyle and Butters was normally like watching a giraffe playing basketball against a muntjac. It started off that way but Cartman was quick to realise Kyle hadn't been exaggerating that last night had really drained him. He looked like a locomotive he was panting so heavily. Cartman got up from his seat next to Stan and circled the courts, keeping a close eye on the match. But it was another tall daywalker that drew his attention and he flew to the other side of the courts when he spotted his half-brother.

"Great, don't see any Tenormans for years and then two turn up at once," Cartman growled. As expected, Scott couldn't see him – he had been conceived and born long before Jack sold his soul.

"What's going on here?" Kyle demanded moments later from a few feet behind him.

"From what I can tell these assholes want to play a game and they're trying to scare the kids off."

"This is school property," Kyle yelled at them. "These kids have priority. And they were clearly here first."

"No one asked you, dork," one of Scott's friends snickered.

"Kyle, you okay?" Stan called as he and the others gathered around for support.

"Just telling these dicks to move on."

"Now hold on, Kyle," Cartman purred into his ear, "We could have some fun here."

"Fun?" Kyle whispered. Scott and his friends gave him an odd look. Cartman told him his idea. He turned back to the bullies with a secretive grin. "Tell you what Scott, let's make a deal. I'll throw the ball. If I make the basket then you have to leave."

The young man checked out his tall and well-toned body with a shake of his head. "You're bound to be a ringer and there's no way I'm trusting any of your little friends neither. I want one of the kids to make the basket."

Kyle grinned wider. They'd been planning on just that. "Sure. Pick one."

Scott pointed out a short chubby girl who immediately started crying. Her friends were going to hate her when she missed, she just knew it. Kyle consoled her quietly and led her to an achievable distance away from the basket. Cartman stood under it and braced himself. To their luck and surprise she threw it near to the hoop and he only had to bat it slightly to the left to get it to swing neatly inside.

"You cheated!" Scott yelled.

"Don't be so fucking stupid, Scott, how did they cheat?" Wendy retorted. "A girl makes a basket so there must be supernatural forces at work? You're such a misogynist."

"Who told you my name?"

"Misogynist?"

Stan stood in front of her defensively. "Everyone knows everyone in South Park, Scott. If you tried a little harder you might realise who we are."

Scott nodded his head after scrutinising them for a few seconds and smirked. "I thought I recognised you guys, especially parka-boy. You're Eric Cartman's little friends. How was the funeral?" He gleefully took in their furious gazes.

Kenny broke the silence first. "None of your business seeing as you couldn't be bothered to turn up."

"Aw, I did want to go, honest," Scott simpered. "I still can't believe they found a coffin big enough and I wanted to see for myself."

Kyle almost went for him at that, but he felt Cartman and Stan's hands on his shoulders. They knew him too well. He hissed through his teeth, "Actually we're all surprised you didn't come. Or did you not have any tap shoes for his grave?"

"Now that hurts." Scott licked his lips. "Grave huh? So they buried him rather than cremate. Makes sense, I guess. They'd never find an oven big enough outside of Auschwitz."

Unexpectedly and with a shriek of fury, Butters launched into him and knocked them both to the floor, ignoring everyone's frantic calls for him to stop. Suddenly there were limbs flying about from everyone except Wendy and Cartman. She moved back to protect the children, who were already running away and screaming, and Cartman hovered around trying to seize an opportune moment to grab Kyle from amongst the carnage and hightail it out of there.

"Teacher, run!" Wendy suddenly yelled at them and they all leapt to their feet and bailed. Whether or not it was a clever trick to get them to stop fighting or if there really was a teacher coming to break them up, it wasn't worth hanging around to get in trouble. Cartman grabbed Kyle's hand and they ran off towards the woods again without a single glance back.

Next chapter:

Kyle's forehead pressed against the wood of the hut, groaning softly into his arm. "Gonna need a little spit from you, sweetheart," Cartman advised, holding out his hand. Kyle obliged and was soon keening back into earnest kisses as Cartman thrust deep and slow.