A neon Denny's sign flickered ever so slightly, the Y in the name looked like it was about to blow a fuse. Inside there were a few stragglers as the sun started to dip behind the mountains. Kyle found himself studying a menu in his hands as he waited for his two friends to show up. He didn't want to be here, especially after his run-in with Cartman in the school hallway. His hands felt gross as the sticky menu met contact with his skin, he reminded himself to wash his hands before he left, it was rather gross.

He breathed in and placed the menu down, stale coffee, and the smell of breakfast food hitting his nostrils. So, that was really it, he agreed so easily and fell right into Cartman's trap. The bastard was probably smug as fuck. After eighteen years of seeing right through his bullshit, Kyle found himself in Cartman's grasp. It wasn't that bad perhaps, he was supposed to do this back in freshman year, this time more was at stake.

The door rang it's half-dead tune as two people walked into the restaurant kicking snow onto the custom doormats. Kyle looked up and saw Stan and Kenny enter and they exchanged glances. One thing Kyle noted was the thankfully casual clothing they were wearing. It was a relief to him since they'd stick out like a sore thumb in this "fine" establishment. Kenny wearing his signature parka and Stan wearing a regular blue jacket.

They both slid into the booth in the seat in front of Kyle. Kyle was pretty sure they were aware of what happened today, he didn't think Cartman could have gone two seconds without boasting about it. Kyle let out a shaky sigh and waved.

"Hey guys." he started.

"Hey, dude, what's wrong?" Stan replied.

"You know exactly what's up Stan, Cartman probably told you all about it," Kyle replied bitterly.

Kenny just grinned and placed his elbows on the counter and rest his chin in his hands. "Aw, it's not that bad, why don't we talk about it later, it'll be okay. Just let's have a good time." he defused the situation as usual and Kyle eased as a waitress came to take their order. Stan looked uncomfortable, but as their food came and everything eased they were interacting like the good friends they were.

Kyle smiled at a stupid joke Kenny had made and turned to Stan who asked him a question.

"How's school?"

"It's okay, I've been hanging out with Tweek and Butters a lot." he stabbed at his blueberry pancakes with his fork. "They're not you guys but they're pretty cool. I see what you see in Butters, Kenny." he eyed the blonde who was grinning. Kenny and Butters had been a thing since middle school and it had just carried on from there.

"He's great right?"

"Okay dude, cut the gushy shit." Stan laughed

"Oh don't act like you and Wendy don't do the same shit." Kyle grinned and poked the fork in the air.

"What about you Ky, do you have anyone you have your eyes on?" Kenny asked, his grin only widening.

"Nah dude, he's married to his school work."

"Am not! I just don't find anyone in that school attractive or interesting." Kyle shrugged and popped a blueberry into his mouth.

"Boo, you prude, you don't have to find them attractive to get some action." Kenny snickered.

"Wow, just, wow." Kyle snorted. Through all this just casual conversation Kyle could help but feel relaxed after the day he'd had. He didn't even notice the hushed conversations and pointed glances to Kenny and Stan. They were recognizable figures after all, but Kyle didn't care even once worried glances were placed upon him.

Stan however noticed this and sighed and waved for the check. "Let's go back to my place and chill." he smiled at the oblivious Kyle.

"Uh, sure." he smiled.

They paid their bill and they walked out into the frigid South Park air. Wind burning his skin as the air was filled with soft snow flurries. He cupped his hands and blew hot air onto them to warm them up. Even with gloves, they felt cold and numb. He pulled at his hat to cover his ears as he walked next to Kenny and Stan. He had ditched the Ushanka years ago in favor of a beanie that had his out of control curls under control for the most part.

That's when it happened. Tires screeched down the road and quick precision gunshots fired and ringing filled Kyle's ears. He could faintly hear Kenny screaming his name as pain took over and he fell to the icy ground. It all happened so fast he didn't realize the shooting pain in his legs. Nor did he feel the blood seeping out of his pants then the realization hit him like ton of bricks, he'd been shot.

He'd been fucking shot and he knew who and why.

"Shit…" he cursed and felt himself being supported up by both Stan and Kenny. Both of his legs had been hit, hoping to shatter bones so he couldn't walk for a while. The way it fucking hurt he was kind of wondering if they succeeded.

"C'mon Kyle stay awake," Stan said, his voice barely reaching his ears. Kyle was starting to feel woozy from his blood loss. Muddled voices filled his senses as Kyle faded in and out of consciousness. He was losing blood too fast. Suddenly he could feel the car seat under his body and the sound of speeding filling his ears.

Maybe a little nap wouldn't hurt.

He suddenly felt himself being shaken awake and his eyes snapped open and he looked around. He was in an unfamiliar place, he would have panicked if he didn't see Stan standing there holding his hand.

"Oh thank God, you're awake, we thought we lost you for a moment," he said. He realized he was on a couch and he could feel cloth wrapped around his legs and tried to move them.

"Stop that." came a familiar voice, the twang making him recognize it as Butters. "Now, Kyle you need to keep your feet propped up and stay off of them." the blonde coming into his line of sight with a worried crease in his brow.

"Butters fixed you up as best as he could, good thing it twas just a flesh wound," Kenny said from the other side of the room.

"Awh, Ken, you stop too."

"Is he done bleeding all over my fucking couch?" that voice made Kyle's skin prickle with irritation, it was Cartman.

"Yes, he is, boss." came Butters's reply.

Would he have to call Cartman, boss too? Ugh, that just left a bitter twinge on his tongue. Then he felt Stan's hand leave and Cartman's hand grasp his chin roughly so the redhead could meet one glare with another.

"You know who did it," Cartman hissed and squeezed tighter, probably getting enjoyment out of this. "don't you?" he demanded.

Kyle gritted his teeth before breaking their gaze, "Yeah," he licked his lips. "I do." before sighing and closing his eyes.

"The Agency, they must have caught wind of what happened at school today, they're not happy, this breaks my contract." he tensed he realized he just outed the secret group and if the mafia didn't know about them they did now.

"The fuck's The Agency?"

Cartman grinned, so the others knew nothing of what Kyle had been doing and this was his way of just humiliating him again.

"You see, Kahl is no different than us. He's a filthy little murderer, those dead bodies on our turf were all him." he laughed.

Kyle let out a growl, he hated this so much he was immobile and being grasped by Cartman and being taunted like a fucking animal.

"Fuck you!" as soon as those words left his mouth the hand on his chin moved to his neck and squeezed. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He struggled as he felt the air being cut off from his body.

"Kaaaahl, you do know that you work for me now, you should start treating me with a little more respect," Cartman said hotly in his ear, the only thing that filled Kyle's senses was Cartman's breathy laughter and the smell of his cologne, he smelt...nice.

What the fuck was he thinking?

He gasped for breath when Cartman removed his hand and stood up. Clawing at his neck the phantom feeling of a hand around his neck was still there and it made him feel so vulnerable. He absolutely positively hated it. He wanted so badly to punch Cartman in that smug face, but he knew he couldn't.

For once, he was at a loss. He would have to do this, he'd have to bend to Cartman's every whim, he guessed that's what he got for agreeing to work under the man. This was his new life and he hated it. Most of all he hated Eric Cartman.

He sat up and stared at what had become of his legs. His mind was blank from just being fucking choked.

"Is he right, Kyle? You were behind the murders in the paper?" he didn't even register who was asking him, but it had to be Butters, no one else was in the room besides Kenny, Cartman, and Stan.

Kyle let out a heavy sigh and nodded.

"Duude."

"Oh don't act like you didn't know Marsh, you were the one who took the evidence." Those words sent chills down his spine, his best friend, was the one who caught him.

"I'm going to clear the fucking air right now." he rasped. "I didn't do it because I'm a sicko, I did it because I needed to support my family." he didn't look at anyone, his eyes training on a rather nice pattern of the couch.

Cartman snorted, "You should have joined us from the start and that wouldn't have been an issue."

Kyle snapped his head towards Cartman, his eyes glittering in hate and he bit his tongue.

"In the end, you got your way, as usual, Cartman."

"Don't be like that jewboy, you were part of my plans, it's only business."

Only business, it wasn't about control at all, he didn't believe that for a second. Cartman had always been obsessed with him. Their relationship was always about power and control. Nothing had changed, nothing at all, he figured maybe something would have changed, that Cartman would just forget about him and leave him be.

Not likely at all.

Cartman walked off into his study a smirk on his lips, finally, the schoolboy was his. His initial plan for the Jew was no different than what the idiot was already accustomed to, so the plans felt so perfectly like a jigsaw puzzle. Kyle would be his hitman, the one to take care of all his enemies, and those who were threatening their way of life. Normally that was Kenny's job but he figured the blonde wouldn't mind the company if it meant keeping the redhead in his grasp.

He sat back in his desk chair and reached for his landline. He had a few calls to make about a certain agency that harmed one of his men. No one touched what was his and lived to tell the tale.

Back in the living room, Kyle shifted in uncomfortable silence while the TV was playing a rather boring documentary on soda. He wasn't alone, Butters, Kenny, and Stan were still there staring mindlessly at the TV. Some end to an evening, Kyle still couldn't believe that Stan had been the one trailing him. He never wanted anyone he cared about to see that, at all. He worried his chapped lip between his front teeth.

"Dude, I can't believe they used to put cocaine in that shit," Kenny said breaking the silence.

"That's what you got out of all of the documentary?" Stan deadpanned.

"Why not? The whole thing is fucking boring, where is the remote?" Kenny quipped only to get hit in the face with the remote by Stan.

Kyle didn't laugh or anything he just laid back down and turned his body so he was facing away from the others. He had to convince himself that his friends didn't hate him - at least he didn't think so. He was pretty sure their hands weren't clean either. So maybe he was just like them now.

"You're thinking too hard Kyle. I can see it in your scrunched up features." came Stan's voice. Kyle turned his head to face his friend's smile, "What're you thinking about?" he asked.

He could pussyfoot around the topic all he wanted, but there was just that one underlying issue. The topic of how they felt about him now. So he figured he'd just cut the bullshit and say it straightforward.

"I'm sure you guys hate me now," his reputation had always been important somewhat, but he didn't want the only people he cared about hating him.

"Fuck no man, you think our hands are clean?" Stan said.

"We didn't get our reputation for being meek little sheep." Kenny looked at him from the side of his vision. The only thing showing that he was paying attention otherwise it looked like he was just changing the channels.

Kyle smiled slightly and nodded, he was part of the family again, it wasn't so bad after all.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep and when he woke up it was light out and the living room was empty. He groaned when he sat up and cracked his back only to reach into his pocket once it vibrated.

Ten Missed Calls from Ma

Oh, fuck, well he wasn't going to put off the inevitable and just opened his contacts, swallowing the fear he pressed her number and placed his phone to his ear.

"Kyle Broflovski! Have you had any idea how much I've been worried about you?! You didn't call at all and didn't come home last night, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"HI, mom."

"Don't Hi mom me, where are you?"

Kyle shifted the phone so he could sit up against the arm of the couch.

"I crashed at-" he had to do this, "I crashed at Cartman's place last night."

"You did WHAT?! I know you're friends with the mobsters, but seriously that could damage your reputation. Come home, right now."

That wasn't really an option.

"I can't mom, I got injured last night and they're taking care of me." he tried, he really wanted her to back off but she wouldn't.

"I should be the one taking care of you, I'm going to come to pick you up!"

"No. Mom, I'll be home soon, it's just a small sprain." He lied through his teeth.

"Fine. If you want to be a mobster don't bother coming around my house." and with a click, she hung up.

Bated breaths escaped his lips as he tried to dial her back. No answer at all, it went straight to voicemail.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. Everything came crashing down at him at once. Everything had to lead up to this, his jobs at night were to make sure his family was secure, those jobs made him get caught by Cartman. Being caught by Cartman caused him to get fucking shot. Now his mom basically told him to never come home. It was all too much.

For the first time in a very long time, the phone dropped onto the couch cushion and onto the floor and Kyle sobbed into his hands. His body wracking and he didn't even realize he was being watched.

Cartman was watching with an unreadable expression as Kyle cried. Wordlessly he grabbed a box of Kleenex and placed it down on the coffee table. Kyle looked up at him, eyes void of emotion other than pure sadness.

"When you're done crying, come into my office."