Aaand I'm back! Well, at least with the new chapter! I really hope it makes up for my lack of presence here. I enjoyed writing this piece, but as I don't plan my stories out, improvisation can take time, add to it college and other excuses... Sorry, again. And thank you for everyone who is still checking up on this and has stayed.
Again, I will not drop this work as I love it myself. Reviews are very much helpful. Hit me up on discord if you want to talk personally, FluffyButtK#3880
Just a small reminder, this chapter is the direct continuation from the first chapter! I hope it's not too confusing. 'Key' chapters are plot, 'Lock' are filler/insights or backflashes.
Kyle woke up with the worst headache ever.
Seething pain that reached even into his brain. A soft grumble left his mouth and a grimace was on, so early in the morning. The images of his dream appeared, of asylum burning, inmates melting and Cartman escaping. It didn't help with his headache, not even the fact he was coiled in a comforting warmth…
He needed a pill. Badly.
'How the fuck did I end up in my bed yesterday?'
But somehow he couldn't lift his hands and reach for the little lamp he had on his nightstand.
"Uggh!" A bark of pain he let out when his skull jumped and banged against something hard and almost sharp.
'Since when was my pillow so uncomfortable?' He was feeling disoriented and slow, almost like waking up from a hangover. But he doesn't remember drinking either.
Despite the pain getting stronger from it, he forced his lids to open and found himself staring at his own thighs. Noticing an arm around his waist and the fact he was sitting…
The sound of a car came into focus, just before it bumped against something on the road and made Kyle's head hit into that same hardness, again.
His head instinctively looked up and met Cartman's eyes. It hit him that his dream… Wasn't a dream.
"Rise and shine, Doc." Chocolate coloured gaze and a haughty snicker.
He was too fucking woozy for this.
'So Eric and the crew escaped. And then burned down the asylum. And kidnapped me and Butters. No, wait, scratch that. Butters kicked me with the fire extinguisher, which is why my head is breaking right now, so maybe he wasn't kidnapped, but an accomplice? And after all of that, I'm laying against Cartman's side, sleeping on his shoulder, with his arm around my waist…'
Kyle simply groaned into a cloth he had around his mouth. He should've been screaming, kicking, fighting in any way. But all he thought is that it was warm and his fuckin' skull was breaking in pain from Cartman's bony-ass shoulder.
He'll think of something smart later. It was a given, anyway, they made sure he couldn't run away easily.
"Is he already awake?" Kyle could hear a distant sound of Stan's voice, but his first order of business was to get away from Cartman. He just couldn't get that feeling of safety in a serial killer's embrace, or something.
"Hey, Kyle, should you really be moving?" Kyle grumbled yet again, ignoring Cartman's words and pushing himself away… 'I seriously despise hearing him say my name.' The whole 'magic voice' and manipulating shit made it very uncomfortable for Kyle.
While he was mentally cursing, something slid down into his lap and Kyle gave it a quick glance. It looked like a white suit Cartman and Stan were wearing, just burned away…
Then he noticed the melted leftover skin, peeling off of bones. But the features were still there… So were the blue eyes and the distinctive messy blonde hair.
"KENNY!" Loud shriek left his lungs, muffled by the cloth as he forgot the thing he was doing… Getting away from Cartman, now pushing himself against him to get away from a decaying corpse in his lap.
"Mmmph!" A sudden scream followed Kyle's.
The noise woke Butters up, scaring him immediately. As if his eyes weren't showing fear obviously, he dropped his eyes low onto the corpse as well… And the car filled with ear-shattering cries…
And Stan's had enough. "Would you stop fucking screaming like a bunch of banshees?! He is gonna be FINE!"
"FINE?! How the hell could he be fine?! He is DEAD!" Kyle frowned, looking up at Cartman and mumbling through the cloth as Leo had his crying session, trembling in the opposite corner of the car.
Blondie's gaze was glued onto Kenny's half-molten face, with tears already rolling down his cheeks. It was too much of a shock for both of them, but Butters definitely took it harder.
"Listen! Cartman said he is gonna wake up normal tomorrow. Like, revived or some shit. I don't know, man!" Stan peaked from the driver's seat for a moment and begged Cartman for an explanation because he didn't trust his own words either.
"I appreciate the affection, doctor, but I don't like to be a second choice." He referred to Kyle's body almost sitting in Cartman's lap again, but made no effort to move him… They didn't have the luxury of space, after all, with four… Well, three people and a corpse occupying the back seat.
"Butters, goddamn it! Stop being such a crying little fag!" Sighing as if this was his biggest concern right now. Kyle's only thought that Cartman's voice was different during sessions… But was controlling enough now that Butters really did just let out a sniff and tried his best to calm down.
"Now, listen. Kenny has this condition. He can't die. He just wakes up the next day as if nothing happened and no one remembers his death. Butters, I believe he had told you that?" Blondie sniffled again and frowned… As he started mumbling under the cloth, completely forgetting the fact no one can understand him really.
"Yes, yes. I know it's hard to believe, but trust me." Cartman added, understanding almost everything Leo said.
Stan peaked over the seat again. "Honestly… That's more believable than Cartman saying he made a guy cut his own testicles and eat them raw. I don't give a crap how good you are Cartman, but no way am I believing that!"
"'Ey! Are you calling me a liar?" Stan only shrugged and focused on the road.
"But, Cartman, if no one remembers his death, how can you believe his words?" Obviously not trusting the biggest manipulator, and neither did Butters or Kyle… Props to them.
"I witnessed it personally. Supposedly if you watch him get revived, you don't forget it… Just wait and you'll see."
"Whatever you say, dude… But you'll be digging his grave." Stan didn't buy the story, he just went along with it because time was short and they needed to run away from that burning hellhole as quickly as possible.
The fact Kyle was surrounded by murderers and is tied up, with a decaying corpse in his lap, did bother him. Just not enough to forget his pain or the sudden exhaustion…
It was just that the laidback, insane aura these two exuded was contagious and horrifyingly relaxing. As if nothing could go wrong… Because you were surrounded by the worst of the worst.
For Butters it was different. He was in a state of shock and just wasn't sure how to or where to direct it. It was worse due to fact Cartman demanded him to not cry or annoy him…
This is why Kyle never wanted Leopold around Cartman, it was like being brainwashed. Unhealthy and risky, since he was so trusting and naïve.
"There will be no need for a grave… Am I that distrustful?" It was Cartman asking the question and the silent treatment coming from Stan was an answer enough.
"I am seriously…" A disappointed click of a tongue.
Kyle glued his eyes back onto the corpse, waiting for it to suddenly get up… Move, twitch! Just anything that would make him not think about a decaying corpse in his lap.
A second later he could hear Cartman sighing. A shiver went down his spine despite the warm breath against his earlobe. 'Too close.' And feeling the need to get away again.
He realized what Kyle was so stiff about, not even needing words from the redhead. Soon enough Kenny's corpse was lifted back into a sitting pose… And now Butters was yanking himself away from it as much as possible, whimpering through the cloth.
"How much more, Stan? I can't stand this crybaby." His hands almost effortlessly moved Kyle's body as well, affording a small gap between their bodies.
It was the sudden relief he felt that made Kyle feel even more like he was walking on eggshells.
A paradox really, but how dare he relax and feel at ease around Cartman, who read him like an open book?
A creepy, warning goosebumps filled his body to the core just from the thought. He had to get away before it happened. And Kyle didn't even know what that it was, just a premonition he felt, something approaching him, lurking in the shadows.
"Bit. We need to get away as far as possible." Stan replied with a strict, cautious tone. It was Kyle who was interested in this 'bit' part. But his question was soon answered as Cartman looked out the window and knocked softly against it.
"Stan… Pull over. It seems quiet enough." The driver clicked his tongue... But really, Stan clicked his tongue for anything and everything. Especially if it involved Cartman bossing him around.
The motel they parked in front was remote, with a small gas station beside it and the rest was a highway and forest. Definitely not the greatest place for an escape plan. Kyle would just have to sit and find a way to call the police or steal a car because walking away from this place wasn't an option. Getting lost in a forest even less. And the least was trusting the motel manager with someone like Cartman around.
No. He needed to get away on his own. Without involving anyone and getting them killed.
Kyle thought the sound of car engine shutting down would relax him, but it did little to his nerves. Instead, revving them up even more. He thought a chance to get away from the stuffed car and a decaying corpse was what would clear his mind… But now he was worried about what would happen outside. Would they dispose of them?
Probably not. Kyle's headache was disappearing but there was paranoia in the back of his head, crawling its way through his spine like an ivy. Kyle wasn't the type to panic, and even this situation wasn't making him empty-headed or freak out like Leo did, but he was sensitive to any sound or motion coming from his kidnappers.
The constant glances from Cartman made him worry. Stan's breathing. Any movement he'd feel from Cartman.
"I'll go. You watch over them." Stan took the initiative, pulling out money from his pocket, stolen of course. Kyle's head twitched immediately at Cartman's nod. He didn't expect that… Cartman working with someone? And agreeing to someone else's plan?
This whole situation seemed too friendly for this combination.
But he wasn't a scaredy-cat. If anything, he knew how to keep a cool head… He had to… Because looking at Leo, still sobbing over the dead body, there was no one else to save them.
"Don't worry Doc, you'll get a French bed with a soft mattress." His arm tightened around the waist and pat Kyle's side just before they both saw Stan exiting the motel. Not only did he not flinch. Kyle's whole body relaxed.
It was a soft, such riveting sound. Hardly something one could find in a human. Yet there it was, so close to his ear, drumming through his body like a vibration, beating relaxation into him… Whether he wanted it or not.
And for a split moment of weakness, Kyle forgot about all his worries. About any headache he was having.
"Fuck you, Cartman." Was Kyle's muffled answer to his kidnapper's 'good intentions'. It was a tease and it was an obvious one. 'Ha ha! A spoiled doctor. You're so funny I had to roll my eyes.' Which he did roll…
The fact he was relaxed around a serial killer came to him so naturally. Almost as if this was just bantering with an old friend?
"Heh." It was frustrating enough for the redhead that this asshole felt victorious, he didn't need a reminder and a smug.
"They only had a room with a single bed and a king-size so I took it."
"Ugh, seriously?!" Stan shrugged and opened the back doors, pulling Butters out, who was already kicking and trying to scream.
"He said they are almost packed, you think I didn't ask for more? This isn't a hotel, Cartman." Another groan followed but he knew he couldn't fight with Stan over such a small thing right now.
Raven head's palm clasped over Blondie's mouth and only a threatening look was enough for him to quiet down again.
"Act asleep. You're drunk." Stan took off his jacket and threw it over Butters, leaning the shorter boy against his own chest. Poor Butters looked like he was ready to fall unconscious anyway, but he managed a nod and leaned against Stan as they walked away from the car.
It baffled Kyle for a moment that Butters was listening. Or was capable of staying calm. But this isn't the first time Butters surprised him. The fellow, after all, wasn't as weak as everyone thought.
There was fumbling happening beside him, a sudden cold spot left on Kyle's waist as the arm disappeared. Cartman was taking off the stolen coat, pulling Kyle outside and imitating Stan.
So, what? Kyle was just supposed to let Cartman get his arm around him, act weak and allow his kidnapper to control the situation?
It killed him that he had to do it. Because what other choice did he have right now? Disobedience could lead to problems, for both him and Leopold and Kyle didn't want to be his demise.
"I thought you would put up more of a fight, doctor." He really didn't need Cartman's side comments right now… And the fact his body was relaxed, listened to his voice like a puppet, didn't help his resolve. But all he did was follow the given instructions and laid his head onto Cartman's shoulder…
The self-disgust that filled him was overwhelming… And all of it over a simple thought; 'He smells nice.'
Immediately he tried to take a step away from Cartman, but his arm around the redhead's shoulders held him close. Holding him tight. And he wasn't letting go.
"Since when are you so rash, however?" A soft grumble left Kyle's mouth and… Cartman laughed.
It seemed to have given a shock to both of them. As they both halted, just stared at nothing for a moment. It wasn't even an all-out laughter, but more like a chuckle. It even had a tone of a snob that Cartman always showed… But the difference was, that this one was natural.
Cartman lost his cool for just a moment. And Kyle's heart leapt out of its place.
Was that a good sign though?
Kyle was afraid of the answer. Like always… He was afraid of his own reactions. The lack of white walls, controlling cameras, shackles around Cartman and no pressure of time were dawning on the doctor.
He was alone. Alone with his own thoughts and Cartman.
Finally, he felt himself being moved, pulled towards the hostel without any word. They didn't even exchange a glance… Which was that much scarier since his 'power' worked best when holding eye contact as well.
Once inside, thrown onto the bed like a rag doll, he noticed that Butters was fine… Relief washed over him and a pang of guilt at the fact he forgot in what position they were.
And the headache came back to him as well. Luckily he was already laying down, nothing wrong could happen if he would just doze-
"Kenny next." Or not.
"Cartman. He's already a corpse." The symbolic nose pinching was back as he just couldn't go along the whole 'resurrection' idea.
"Yes. For now." He pulled off his stolen jacket from Kyle.
"He is not coming back, idiot." Cartman gave him a cold stare.
"It's smart leaving a dead, scorched body in a backseat of a car, right after an asylum mysteriously went up in flames." The sarcasm was rolling off his tongue in thick layers, and Stan could do nothing but let another sigh out. Cartman was right. Yet again.
"Yeah, you made your point. But how do we get him here? If you don't remember, most of the rooms are full." He didn't even need to finish for Cartman to understand his point.
"Luckily you said you are bringing drunk friends." He felt a shrug being an answer enough for now.
"That still doesn't answer my question… Cartman!" But he was already outside, ignoring Stan's complains and walking towards the stolen car.
"Just keep a lookout for a moment." A soft groan followed his command, but like the rest, he paid it no attention and carefully pulled the half-scorched body. 'It's really gonna be hard sleeping beside this stink…'
"Cartman… Someone's coming." He didn't quite sound worried but did try and hurry the other one. Stan wasn't a fan of problems after all and preferred to do things quietly and without anyone noticing.
"Come on Kenny…" He pulled the corpse out, now covered with Cartaman's jacket. "Why did you get wasted so hard!" Huffing out to make his act proper as a couple approached the car next to theirs.
Eric didn't need to communicate and Stan was already helping him, grabbing their 'drunk friend' under the armpit and carrying him back towards the motel.
"This is not gonna work, fuckin idiot!" Already he was complaining, as soon as he felt the pair couldn't hear him, and of course, Cartman did nothing about it but roll his eyes. Lucky for them only some parts of him burned, parts that the jacket and hood mostly hid, enough in this dark. They were lucky it was night, they were lucky not many people were outside, they were lucky the motel has shitty lights… All in all, even Eric knew this situation could only be that. Luck.
"If you keep rambling, it's not."
Stan clicked his tongue, following Eric's retarded plan when a resident decided to come out.
"Stan, stay." Both of them froze on place, but Eric was the first to act, knowing Stan would make even more mess if they were really discovered, and he talked to him like to a rabid dog who was ready to chew out this person.
He wasn't far from the truth as the black-haired boy was already thinking of a way to deal with this random, unlucky person as quickly and cleanly possible.
"Stop treating me like a dog!" He muttered back before the resident came too close.
"Stop acting like one!" Eric returned right before they were both interrupted, their focus brought onto the tall, skinny person who passed by them.
"Evening." They all said in unison to one another, Stan with a bit snarkier tone than the other two. The brunette was just happy it brought more attention towards him than onto the corpse between them.
It stunned Cartman each time just how retarded common people could be. He was quite sure that it was possible to stroll around with a gun pointed towards Stan and the passerby would still nonchalantly walk away.
They walked on, quickly unlocked and entered their small room. Such an amazing whiff of humidity, old junk food and poverty flooded their nostrils that Eric was suddenly reminded of his home.
"Fuck, it still stinks in here." But they couldn't exactly be picky either. They felt it all the first time, but there was hope they'd at least get used to it… They didn't. And Cartman hated it.
But the view of his psychiatrist on the floor, tied up, wriggling towards the mini kitchen like a caterpillar, with his ass high up in the air… Made both Stan and Eric stop in the middle of a room and forced Kyle's gaze to fall onto them.
While the redhead was feeling panicky, suddenly worried about the consequences of his action… Eric couldn't help but lift his eyebrows and curves of the mouth just a bit. He was amused. And the only thing that truly amused the psychopath involved blood and death… Usually, that is.
No, Kyle didn't think what would he do if he were found before he managed to get to a knife. Or what would happen to him. He didn't think, period.
But he knew he saw a chance, window of opportunity to save himself and Leopold and not let fate decide for him… The smile from his captor, however small, brought more fear than he expected. Kyle didn't know Cartman for long, the only, mildly positive reactions he saw from the brunette were chuckles, still judging and calculating. Never…
Amused. 'Fuck.'
"Going somewhere?" Although thin, with a lack of any visible muscles, his shoulders were broad, his arms long and he was taller than Kyle… But that wasn't it. It's not his body that worried him as the footsteps came closer to his head. It was those goddamn chocolate-honey eyes, lightened up by the soft tinge of yellow from the street outside. It was the tone he gave off, the relaxed posture and the fact Cartman wasn't doing… Well, anything.
He crouched down and pulled Kyle up into a sitting position against the bed. The soft tilt of his head and leftover warm smile, if it could be called that, made shivers go down his spine, into his legs and stop there, freezing them on the place.
Kyle forgot his intentions and just stared back with eyes wary, drying up from the lack of movement and waiting… For something. At this point, he just wanted to be hit. He knew how to handle physical patients, even threatening ones, vocal ones? No problem.
But this? He finally understood what his victims must've thought.
And amongst all that fear… Kyle smiled back.
It threw both of them off because the redhead, he didn't expect a gust of pride welling up in him.
After all… He spent months on this asshole and finally he himself got something from him. A genuine, uncontrolled reaction.
"Oh god…" Stanley, unaware of the things unfolding in front of him, was calming his initial reaction, a loud laugh to the scene they stumbled upon, breathing in properly. Kyle didn't even hear him as he focused on other things, but now the residual sharp breaths brought his attention towards the black-haired guy.
"I didn't think you'd be this amusing, doctor." Said Stan. And that was the sole reason why Eric was intrigued. He's been with his doctor for a while now, and the boring college hippie was so annoying. He showed less reaction and emotion than a dry corpse. Or well, he tried not to. Sure, Cartman noticed, now and then, something in those foggy emeralds, and he noticed twitches, occasional interest or eyes diverting from him but never anything out of ordinary. There was no excitement in him, no passion for his work or a spark. He found his psychiatrist quite strong-minded, the only reason he still communicated with him, somehow, but besides that…
Kyle Broflovski was the most boring, tough nut-to-crack person he had ever met. He even missed fucking around with people who ate out of his palm after a simple look.
Cartman remembers the first time he met this man. It wasn't anything too dramatic or interesting, after all, he had his fair share of doctors and none really proved to be a challenge. He didn't expect anything to change any time soon.
And really, it didn't. When he saw the thin figure of a man, the only thing that really stood out was his hair, especially in a facility as washed out as this one. Eric assumed it was almost impossible to tame them curls, truthfully feeling a bit impressed by his ability to do so.
They spent an hour, per usual for his sessions, talking. Or well, writing, as Kyle joined in on using the tablet they gave him to communicate with. Eric tried his best to observe, noticing after a bit of time that the redhead did indeed have signs of nervousness, small and controlled but they escaped. As always, it amused him enough to study more, but it was expected, due to his own reputation that the man would be at least a bit worried working with the perfect manipulator like he was.
As time dragged on, however… Kyle played along with a dangerous game of tag. So did he. They tried to outdo each other, but Eric knew where both of them stood. He knew this game, moves, methods and ends. Like a slowly laid out labyrinth where all paths led into a trap. And Kyle walked through one with confidence, putting himself out there… Right into one of Eric's plots.
Truthfully, the ginger ignited something in him, especially the way he answered and observed… And most importantly the fact that the more they talked and the more he looked into Eric's eyes, the calmer he got. A trait his other doctors, and ultimately victims, never possessed.
Then the next session came. And the next… And all the others where the ginger lost its spark. It felt like he was punching a dirty rag over and over with only the same, suffocating dust coming out. And Eric tried, like never in his life, he tried to get something out of him… It conflicted him that this fact both excited and annoyed the hell out of him.
Fucking ginger was resisting all of his attempts at manipulation and it scratched the deepest part of him! It was infuriating and irresistible at the same time.
Then it hit him after a long struggle with himself and streak of headaches… That the redhead was just empty.
Cartman understood one thing. Those foggy greens were dead. They were hollow, professional and void of anything. The man was just doing his job and wasn't interested in Eric himself. Like a robot, he wrote down what he noticed, he worked and diagnosed.
For fuck sake, Eric even asked for and used his highly regarded voice on him and the man answered with 'Oh.'
The first couple of times he genuinely thought the doc was that good at hiding his emotions. But no one could resist him so much, and he just came to the conclusion that he was the dullest person ever.
There were some like him, who were retarded, unable to understand Eric's impact on him due to lack of brain cells or… Humanity in them. Like Stanley, but he had his own reasons as well. And Kyle?
Well, he was just a soulless ginger. A boring, most basic and narrow-minded ginger ever with all of his focus on work.
Or so he thought. All this time… The Kyle was that good at hiding his emotions. Fucking Kyle Broflovski was screwing with Eric's mind and now seeing this smile? It didn't tickle something deep inside him…
It fucking pulled and twisted it out of him.
He finally understood what that first session meant. Kyle was excited. But the job description meant he couldn't allow himself to indulge in it.
And suddenly, his choice of hostages proved way more entertaining than he initially had planned.
-X-X-
Couple hours had passed after that small, wordless exchange and Kyle was lifted onto a single bed, alone and with his arms going numb on his back. The cuffs weren't too tight at least.
They made sure to separate Butters and him, who was sniffling all this time, crying and just couldn't get over the shock… It wasn't that the fella was weak-willed, he was just shaken by the whole situation, and the fact he cared about every person in that asylum meant that he lost what? A hundred friends or more? Even if they were just colleagues, Butters cared about human life a tad bit too much…
Luckily after Eric calmed him down, he quickly fell asleep, trapped between Eric's and Stan's body who were watching TV, checking any news or words about the damage they did… But none yet.
Kenny was sprawled across the floor, as if knowing there was a dead body here wasn't enough, Cartman had to make sure they all saw it as well. 'Sick motherfucker.' Kyle kept repeating in his head whenever his gaze would land on the half-burned body.
But after the sickening amount of glances… He noticed a visible change in Kenny's appearance. 'No fucking way.' The charred black colour wasn't as spread out?
But Kyle thought he was seeing things, of course, just his imagination of course. He's been staring at it for hours, no wonder his mind would start going crazy too.
Except his mind mapped and remembered where the charcoal colour stopped and where skin started… And the edge was pulled back again.
Now he was genuinely staring, without unnecessary blinking, without losing focus…
"Ah, did it start?" Cartman broke the weird silence and looked down at the body. "It'll take up to half an hour, depending on his wounds." Stan visibly frowned, a disappointed sigh leaving his thin lips.
"Cartman, when will you fucking drop it?" But he couldn't help but glance at the body… And the frown deepened.
"Just watch." Cartman replied without interest, just shuffling through channels as the other two looked at each other in same confusion and recognition, then watched the body…
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" A shocked yell rippled through the room after ten minutes and Butters was up, sitting awake in a matter of seconds.
"WHAT THE FUCK CARTMAN?! HOW-" Kyle didn't let out a word as flesh started literally forming from where there was none and Stan kept looking at Eric for answers, then towards the body and back…
Butters' turn to yell. Again. And a palm shot over his mouth, Cartman's.
"You are all such drama queens. As I said. He returns." He took a glance at each of their gazes… And they couldn't deny it anymore as Kenny's body laid on the floor, intact and half-naked with no visible damage whatsoever.
"FUCKIN' BURNS!" A sharp, loud inhale and that was the first thing he had said as his torso jolted into the air, filling with fresh oxygen and renewed life.
Butters was out again like a flashlight, Stan was sitting with eyes wide and Kyle was just… Slow. He was combing through the situation… And holding the sheet behind him as a sudden burst of interest and genuine fun made him widely grin.
Kenny disregarded everyone besides the one person who was yawning from his tiredness and grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulling him closer to himself.
"MOTHERFUCKER!" Eric pat his shoulder as Stan stood up… And punched Kenny into the chest.
"Wh- How did…" This was Stanley's way of checking for ghosts.
"Owww?" Kenny coughed and stared at Stan in pure confusion. "I just got back?! Chill your blue balls, Stan!" He coughed again and relaxed his breathing.
"Nice to see you all alive though!" The sudden bright, tooth gaped smile made even Stan cock up his lips into a grin.
Another loud yawn broke the blissful moment. "Can we go to sleep now?" And Kenny grabbed Eric's chest and legs and rolled him off the bed.
"Kinny, what the FUCK?!" As the newly reborn blonde jumped onto the bed, grabbing unconscious Butters into a hug.
"YOUR fat ass is sleeping on the FLOOR tonight." He spat words at the man on the floor.
It was Kyle who started laughing, muffled by the cloth in his mouth, but loud all the while… They all stared at him but he didn't give one dime.
This whole situation was so fucking absurd.