A/N: Hi! I bring you another chapter! I wasn't expecting this fic to get this much attention, this is one of the most underrated ships, but I deeply appreciate all of you 3

Thank you for all your reviews; I, too, think there should be more of this ship in the fandom hehe.

Enjoy !

Kenny awoke with a jolt, his heart beating fast against his ribcage. He jumped out of bed, quickly dressed, and stormed to his living room.

It was morning now, and Kenny could only think about Wendy and the bloody scene they were in last night. She wouldn't remember what happened, at least not entirely. She might be confused and scared, but luckily, she would've fled the scene before more goons arrived. Putting on his boots, he went for the front door's handle, but his sister stopped him.

"Now, where do you think you're going?" Karen was in the middle of the hallway with her arms crossed and bag under her eyes.

"Wendy, she- " "-She came over hours ago, asking for you." Huh? Kenny was confused. He'll have to ask her how much of the night she remembered. It was strange someone would ask about his whereabouts after his death. No one had ever done it before.

"Whadda, you mean?" He asked, and Karen bit her cheek.

"She came in the middle of the night, all bloodied, and asked about you." Karen had a grim look. "Kenny, she told me you died in her arms."

Kenny's blood went cold.

"What?" It was impossible, unheard of, inconceivable. The only person outside his family who remembered Kenny dying was Cartman. The fat-ass refused to acknowledge it and had done some pretty unhinged and wicked stuff in their youth; Kenny vaguely remembered possessing him at one point, so he wouldn't be surprised if he'd gained a sight of sorts. But Wendy? No, it couldn't be.

"What you heard. Gave me the biggest fright too, you know. She came with bloodied clothes and a heavily bandaged arm, banging on the door, screaming bloody murder, saying you'd died in her arms. She told me what you were doing," She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was glad Kevin isn't usually here anymore, as well as mom and dad. But, she wouldn't calm down, so I had to show her, you know," Karen commented uncomfortably, "Your room with you sleeping on your bed."

Kenny closed his eyes and bit his lower lip. The last thing he wanted was for Wendy to see the shabby, crummy place he had to live. His room was an impossibility he'd never had to worry about, and he never would've thought she'd come even near it. Kenny couldn't be mad at Karen for doing it, though. He knew Wendy, and if she remembered it all, well, he could understand why she was in hysterics.

"What did she do afterward?"

"She almost passed out when she saw you were breathing and had no apparent injuries. I told her you would explain everything after you woke, and she promised to come after lunch. Which is…" Both Kenny and Karen looked at the clock hanging on the wall. It was barely two o'clock. "Any minute now." She gave him a tight smile and went to her bedroom. She slammed her door shut, and Kenny mentally cursed. He would have to refrain from going out for a few nights if he wanted to get on Karen's good side; she hated when he got into dangerous situations and died (understandably), but Wendy must've given her the most horrific shock.

Kenny waited in his living room, trying to figure out how in hell Wendy remembered his demise. Some part of him jolted with delight; if she could remember his deaths, then Kenny wasn't as alone as he thought. It was nice to confide in Karen, but in the end, she was still his baby sister, and there were things he couldn't naturally express to her. He didn't want to frighten her or make her uncomfortable. But he knew Wendy had the stomach for it and hoped he didn't scare her to the point she didn't want to be associated with him anymore.

Wendy arrived at precisely two and a half in the afternoon, and Kenny quickly rushed when he heard his door knocking. It was embarrassing that Wendy had to enter and see his house, but she'd come at night and was probably so overwhelmed that she couldn't remember how dilapidated it was. Kenny wasn't feeling like freshening her memory.

When she saw him, he opened the door and noticed Wendy's pale face, her brown eyes big as plates.

"Hey." He didn't know what else to tell her. What could he say? "Hey, I know I died in your arms, but just like I told you, I'm up and fine!" No, there was nothing Kenny could say to alleviate the mood.

"Y-You, you're, you…." She stuttered, and Kenny smiled gently at her, "Alive?" she nodded with her mouth open, disbelief in her eyes. Kenny led her outside his porch, "There's a small park just a few blocks away; we can talk there."

They sat on one of the small park benches, and Kenny noticed Wendy was trying to come up with something, only to swallow her words and bite her lips. He broke the silence, "I think I should explain."

"You think?" She breathed and lit a smoke. Kenny did the same.

"This isn't something I've counted on explaining to anyone. Mainly because, well, each time it happens, no one usually remembers. Only my family knows about it. And well, Cartman," Wendy raised an eyebrow at his words, "But I'm almost sure he did something stupid when we were younger, and that's why he knows, but you're the first person I've spoken to about this besides Karen. Well, the first one I've talked to besides Karen that remembers me dying."

"You mean this isn't the first time you died?" Wendy asked, horrified. Kenny nodded. "Don't ask me how many times I've died, though; it's been far too many for my liking, and many were not my proudest moments, but let's just say I've died enough to know this won't go away any time soon."

"That night on the alley, when Pip died…." Wendy blushed. Kenny swallowed hard when he saw her blush creep into her neck and wondered how far it went. He tried to shake the thought away as she continued, "I don't remember much of what happened that night, but I thought I'd seen you bleeding."

He nodded, "That night, I was stabbed by one of the men like the one we encountered yesterday." He scoffed. "I also bled to death."

"Have I seen you die before?" There was worry in her eyes.

"I don't exactly remember, but most probably, yes. Most of my earlier deaths were a product of reckless behavior, and when I grew desperate when no one seemed to remember, I tried to die as publicly as I could to see if anyone did. Pretty psychotic if you ask me. But I was young and hopeless. I still am, in a way," He said with a half smile, "But I've resigned to my fate. I hadn't had any luck until yesterday." Kenny rubbed his chin, "I don't know what changed."

There was a pregnant pause, and Wendy said, "I thought you were gone, Ken. I saw the life go out of your eyes! I- you were bleeding all over me, and then you just disappeared!"

"I'm sorry." It was all Kenny could say. There was nothing he could do except not get into petty fights and dangerous situations. But Kenny couldn't help it; it was his second nature now. He had caught a fair share of goons and underbosses that way, and giving it up meant to leave the town unprotected. But he lamented that Wendy was there to experience it. It shouldn't have happened.

"Fuck." She exhaled her cigarette smoke, "It's so surreal, Ken. After you disappeared, I had to keep it together before I went to the hospital, you know, I had to make sure it wasn't all in my head. I had to say I was mugged. I was glad my father didn't find out."

"Oh yeah, how's your arm?" Kenny remembered and softly grazed her covered forearm with the tip of his fingers. It was another thing Kenny regretted. It wasn't fair. While he could just wake up in his bed, fresh as ever, Wendy will have a permanent mark to remember it. It reminded him of how fragile everyone around him was and how they could easily die while he just navigated immortality.

"It's not as bad as I thought." She rolled her sweater sleeve, and Kenny saw her bandaged left arm. "I did have to get a couple of stitches, but it's better than dying, I guess. It looked way worse because most of it was your dried blood." Wendy explained, but Kenny didn't hear the end of it; he spaced out, deep in thought.

"Wendy, I bled all over you, didn't I?" It got his gears turning. Could that be the reason? Kenny didn't know how this worked, but it was the closest theory he could think of, the closest thing to an answer.

"It was not pretty." Her tone was somber, and Kenny shook his head.

"No, no, what I mean is, as I bled to death, your wound was also open and bleeding. So what I'm saying is my blood got inside you, Wendy." Kenny's eyes brightened, his thoughts coming fast, "But that wouldn't have possible being the only reason; I'm sure I've bled over many people before…."

She made a face and looked over her bandaged arm. "I'm pretty sure I bled all over you too, Ken. I was fighting to keep you awake, and I didn't realize I was bleeding heavily at that moment. I was half awake and very disoriented when I arrived at the hospital. I didn't need any transfusions, but they kept me for over an hour before they deemed I was lucid enough to go." She carefully unbandaged her arm and showed Kenny her wound.

It was a nasty-looking gash, a vertical line with five stitches spread on her forearm. Kenny held her arm and inspected it closely. He didn't know what came over him, but he had the sudden urge to kiss it, to make it go away.

"What are you-"

His lips brushed over her scar, and a shock of electricity went through Kenny. He had a sudden vision, a hellish place he thought he had forgotten. Wendy must've felt it too, her eyes were wide open with dread, and she clenched her teeth. Kenny realized he was gripping her arm, and the wound bled slightly. "I'm s-sorry." He let go of her arm and gave him a reassuring smile while she bandaged it again.

"What was that? What was that place?" Wendy asked.

"Somewhere I've been before, a lost city from hell, I s'pose," Kenny muttered.

"You saw that?" He frowned, and she nodded.

"Only for a moment." There was worry still visible in her eyes, but her body relaxed. They smoked in silence, taking in everything that had happened in the last two days.

"What the hell is going on?" He heard her whisper. Kenny was as puzzled as she was.

"I don't know, Wends."

Kenny tightened his bass strings, hoping they wouldn't pop like last time. Unfortunately, they were beginning to rust, and the more he played, the more they became a ticking time bomb. If only Kenny didn't need a new pair of shoes, clothing, backpack, and toothbrush, maybe he could consider getting new bass strings. Perhaps he could convince Butters to buy him some. They were pretty cheap, and he was always dotting him with things. His parents loathed the music they played, but then his father had said something along the lines of how being in a band made Butters "manlier" and miraculously let him play with them.

They rehearsed in Stan's house, the only other household besides Kenny's with careless, neglectful parents, so they let him do pretty much anything. Maybe that's why Kenny relied so much on Stan. While he knew Stan and Kyle were super best friends, and nothing could tear them apart, Kenny could talk to him about real stuff they were experiencing without getting a lecture.

Wendy was there, as usual, and she kept staring at Kenny throughout the rehearsal. Kenny didn't know if he should feel flattered or not. After he explained everything he could to her about his situation, about his "powers," it was as if a switch had turned on her, and she began following him everywhere. Every time Kenny wanted to go along with it, make himself the charming yet mysterious guy he knew girls craved, he saw her bandaged arm and took a step back.

If he kept associating with Wendy, she'd probably end up in danger again. And Kenny wasn't so sure she'd get away with only a cut on her arm next time. He gulped as he saw her covered arm and instead tried to focus on the chords.

They were playing for Skeeter Wine Bar (again) in a few days, and they still needed to polish their new song. Stan's Uncle Jimbo was intimate friends with Skeeter and didn't mind when a few beers would slip and go missing. Behind the bar was a break room big enough to practice; they sometimes rehearsed there before the bar opened. They weren't bad, and Kenny wished his friends would think as he did and move out to the city to play music after high school. It was an impossible dream, he knew. Kenny knew if it weren't for Kyle's influence, Stan would follow him, but Jimmy and Butters came from nice families with university expectancies for their children.

If Kenny wanted to continue his life as a "rockstar," he would have to do it alone. Which was, in essence, also an impossible dream. He had Karen to take care of, and if her safety meant he'll spend another couple of years in this shithole of a town, he'd gladly do it.

"Hey, Kenny," Wendy sat beside him on Stan's couch. They'd finished playing, and Kenny could almost hear Kyle's sigh of relief when Wendy didn't approach Stan. She wore a deep cobalt blue sweater and a red skirt. Kenny would've been too distracted by her long legs in such proximity if it wasn't for the visible bulge of bandages underneath her sweater. That kept him grounded. She told him it wasn't yet as hot, so she could still cover it well before anyone noticed.

"Hey Wendy," Kenny was busy putting his old bass in its case, wondering when he'll be able to buy himself a new one.

"So," She whispered to him. "When are we returning to the police station?" Kenny's eyes went wide open, and he gave her a look of disbelief. "Are you out of your mind?" He whisper-shouted at her. "We have to go back there! I'm sure we were onto something." She whispered back.

"Need I to remind you I died there? And you're scarred forever for it." He held her left wrist, emphasizing her wounded arm, and Wendy frowned at him.

"Let go!" She hissed and motioned with her head at Stan, who was busily talking with Kyle. Jimmy was putting away his things, and Butters gave them a curious stare. The last thing Kenny wanted was questioning from his friends – Butters was terrible at keeping secrets, and Stan would kick him out of the band and from his life forever in a blink of an eye if he got the wrong impression.

"As much as I want, I can't go back there, not until things calm down. Karen already hates me for what happened the other night, and I don't want to hurt her again so soon." Kenny let go of her arm.

"Does she hate me? Karen, I mean."

"You gave her the biggest fright that night, that's for sure. She was just as confused as I was when I told her our "theory" about why you remember it. But no, she doesn't hate you. She knows you're not like the rest of the popular girls. If anything, she was glad I wasn't there all alone." He gave her a non-committal smile. "She appreciates you for caring."

"Oh." Wendy blushed and returned his smile. She then made a slight sound and turned to grab her purse. "Before I forget," She said and gave Kenny a small plastic square packet. "Here." They were new bass strings. Kenny was speechless.

"I heard you the other day complaining to Jimmy you needed new ones, and I dunno," She tucked her hair behind her ear as she tried to hide her blush. "I thought you might find these useful."

Kenny grinned at her from ear to ear and hugged her on impulse. The others were too busy with themselves to pay attention to them. "You didn't have to," He whispered against her lovely, lovely hair.

"I know."

A/N: See you next week!