Warning: AU –Second World War
M-Rated!Contains coarse language, violent imaginary related to the context of war, and sex.
I do not own South Park. I do not own anything. I wish I was that f* genius!
Recovery was long and slow.
Kyle had been sick before, but this was extreme. Long months of lack of food had narrowed his physical resistance and immunity to about zero. During the first week, Kyle's fever was a continuous coming and going. Although it never reached its peak like the day Ike called Herr Cartman for help; the high temperatures did made him restless. He had all kinds of strange dreams, which he forgot right after waking up. Dreams that made him scream and cry moans of distress. During his fevers, Kyle would lose complete notion of reality. He ceased to recognize the world surrounding him and everything became a confusing blur of nothing and everything. Past and present merged. Dreams and reality merged. He was a child again and then he was back being a teenager. He was at school with Stan and he was happy. And then he was back in the camp, in the snow, between stones and dead bodies. While his mind was shut down, his body desperately fought against the infirmity that was consuming it. The reason why, although Kyle slept a lot, he always woke up tired and weak.
After the first exhausting week, his feeble body finally triumphed over the bitter fever. Gradually Kyle started feeling a bit better every day. He slept now easily and dreamless. His appetite returned with force. He had the company of Alfred, who would check on him several times a day, and of Chef, the kind cook that brought him the daily meals. Kyle discovered this was the second person he had discerned during the bathtub episode, when Chef retold him the events of that day.
Kyle's body became fitter by the day, but now his mind was plagued by thoughts concerning Herr Cartman. He simply could not understand why he was lying in a comfortable bed and receiving all the needs for his recovery in the Nazi' home. He still had a hard time believing this was truly happening and he had already some bruises in his arm to prove his attempts to wake up from this bizarre dream.
Why did he save me?
Why didn't he harm my brother for violating several rules, that day?
He brought me hidden. He is still hiding me. Because it's forbidden for a Nazi to help a Jew.
All this just to satisfy his friends?
No. Kyle didn't believe Herr Cartman had taken all this trouble, taken so many risks, to the point of putting his career and life in danger because of his friends. He had already saved him and his father once, after all. No. Kyle was too clever to believe in such nonsense (and he had the strong feeling the fat Nazi was aware of this). It had to do with something else. It had to do with whatever existed between them, which escalated in that one very hot night. Kyle had tried to blame it in the circumstances. He had tried to convince himself it was the influence of opium and whisky that had made him act reckless. But he knew better. Kyle was too clever for his own good. Drugs and alcohol were not to blame his attraction to the Nazi that one night. All they did was stimulate his bodily (and most probably emotional) urges.
Since the day the redhead woke up in a soft bed, the Nazi never showed up again. Although Kyle preferred it this way, he couldn't help and feel annoyed with Herr Cartman. He had too many questions in the open. Questions that only the SS could answer. He needed to know what was going on. Why the Nazi loved torturing him so much, why he showed nothing but hatred and disgust in the work fields to afterwards have great sex. Even thought it had been a complete new experience for him, Kyle knew there had to be something more than just fantastic sex. There had been something more than physical in the way Herr Cartman had touched him, had moved in him, had looked at him. Something that was strong enough to make him take the trouble in saving his father, having mercy on his brother and sparing his life, not once, but twice. Something strong enough to make him go against the Führer, the law, his career, his beliefs. And so, the hours Kyle was awake and alone, were spent in wondering what was going on the Nazi's head. Above all, the redhead scolded himself for being upset by the SS's absence.
So he doesn't show up! Great deal! Why even care?
I should be relieved that asshole never appears to make my life hell!
Kyle tried to tell himself he was better off without the Nazi's presence. But he knew better. He was a clever boy after all. Kyle did care for whatever reason Herr Cartman chose not to show up. It somehow stirred up his emotions and he found himself unwillingly wondering why the fucking Nazi never came by and said something. Even if that something was rude and cruel. As long as he gave him some attention. Kyle hated himself for caring. For wanting attention from the monster of Dachau. Any kind of attention. And he wondered if he was a masochist.
What does he want from me anyway? Is it all just a sick game?
What does Herr Cartman truly think about me? Fell about me?
How ridiculous! Like if he is capable of feeling anything!
But Kyle knew the fat Nazi had to feel something for him. Good or bad. Because he had seen it in his eyes during their heated moments together. Because Herr Cartman had proven it in the risky decisions he took, even if he camouflaged them with cruelty and torture. And so Kyle hated this internal conflict. His mind told him the SS could not have any kind of feelings for him. Just like his mind told him he could care less. His mind told him he loathed the cruel Nazi and that this was the only feeling that existed between them. Yet his heart taunted him with the facts. There were so many moments the Nazi could have simply killed him instead of sparing his life. But Herr Cartman always chose to keep him alive. He always found a way to save his life. And his family's.
No! He doesn't care for me! It's all part of his sick game!
He wants to see me suffer. He enjoys watching me suffer. That's why he keeps me alive. That's what he's doing right now. He knows that, by not showing up, I'm all worked up!
…But then, why spare dad? Why spare Ike?
No! He would never do anything for me! Never!
Kyle closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His brains were hurting as bad as his chest. It was a struggle between mind and heart. Sense and emotion. All he could think was him. His thoughts twirled around the cursed Nazi. And he hated it. He hated himself for being so stupid. Kyle felt unwilling tears escape and hid himself under the sheets. He cursed that hot night. He cursed the wonderful pleasure he felt back then. He cursed the impossible connection they reached during climax. He cursed everything that made him want to be with Herr Cartman. To see him. To receive attention. Any kind of attention. He cursed the day he crossed paths with Herr Cartman. He cursed the day the fat Nazi entered in his life unintentionally.
…
Chef was one of few people who knew the Nazi's real persona. One the few privileged that knew Eric Theodore Cartman. He knew him better than anybody else, better than Herr Cartman's own mother, because Chef had seen him growing up. They had met for the first time, many years ago, when little Eric Cartman frequented the Elementary School where Chef worked as a cook. Due to his open, warm and friendly personality, Chef easily gained the trust of many kids. But Eric Cartman was perhaps the only child that trusted him to the point of confiding him with his deepest and darkest thoughts, ideas, fears and questionings. Chef knew, in the contrary of what the rest of the world thought, that Eric Cartman was a particularly troubled kid with a particularly difficult childhood.
Chef knew the child suffered because he was fatherless. It had been a constant emptiness in Eric's life. An emptiness that only was compensated by envying insanely those who had a father. He hated children that went fishing with their dads on Sunday's afternoons. He loathed little boys that had a father to cheer them at football matches. Fathers who took their free time to do fun things with their boys.
The fact his mother was most of his childhood absent, whether away with some stranger for a cheap fuck, whether immersed in opium; only made matters much worse. Lianne Cartman was truly a negligent mother. She adored her little pumpkins, make no mistake. But instead of giving Eric what he truly wanted, what he truly needed, things like love, care, attention, guidance and safety; she overcompensated her lack with gifts, food and freedom. Because, in the end, Lianne was never there. All Eric needed was a mother that cared enough to make sure her son wouldn't freeze himself so he could "sleep" into the future to get some weird toy; or to stop her son from creating some kind of apocalyptical sect of Ginger heads after some kid pranked him by dying his hair red.
Chef was sure that Eric Cartman's mental condition suffered drastically, firstly in the day he discovered his mom was actually his father (a rare case of Hermaphrodite), and secondly when he discovered this was actually a lie and his father was somebody he had already killed to take revenge on some kid that had fooled him with hairs, or something of the kind. By this time, Eric had already developed quite a strong fascination for Adolf Hitler. But after learning the truth about his father, Eric's obsession for the Führer only grew stronger and more intense by the day, until he became the worst kind of Nazi. The fanatic type. The one that will follow the Führer blindly. Devotedly and without any questioning. Eric Cartman had found his father figure in the Nation's great Leader.
Chef also knew little Eric Cartman hated being fat, which made him feel absolutely unattractive, repulsive and insecure about himself. So he overcompensated his complex by entitling himself as "awesome" and ripping everybody that crossed paths with him. In the beginning he only ripped on kids that were labeled as weak, like his friend Butters, or as freaks like the ginger heads. Later on, his ripping was focused mainly on the Jewish race, an unhealthy hatred nurtured by the Führer himself.
Eric Cartman had always sough contact with Chef, even after he left Elementary School and went to the Hitlerjugend School. The teenager knew the dark man's door was always open for him 24/7. Eric had nurtured a great respect for the cook in his selfish heart and was forever grateful for the undivided attention he received during many years. And it was this very gratitude that saved Chef the previous year.
The kind cook had lost his job, his house and savings due to the Nazi regime and new laws. Just like the Jews, he was considered of an inferior race, his skin color considered strange and impure. And so he ended up living in subhuman conditions of misery and poverty. His survival was selling his body to women and singing love songs in nightclubs. And it was in one of these nightclubs that Eric, by then already known as Herr Cartman, the SS-officer of Dachau's camp; offered Chef a job in his private kitchens. The reason Chef knew that, despite of what the rest of the world thought, said and claimed; Eric Cartman did have a heart. Just like any other human being he had feelings like gratitude, love and compassion. This conviction was now being strengthened by the fact Herr Cartman had saved a Jew and was having him in his house.
Chef had been away the night Herr Cartman organized one of his crazy soirees and had, therefore missed Kyle's presence back then. Later on, he interrogated Alfred about the Jew Herr Cartman brought that August afternoon. And so he learned the boy had played the violin wonderfully that evening. Alfred also hinted that Herr Cartman had enjoyed the boy's company very much. Since the day Kyle was brought in, Chef witnessed the fat Nazi's disturbing mood swings. He was restless and crankier than normal. Anything was enough reason to infuriate him. All the house's staff and fellow officers were tormented by his extreme ill mood. Only Chef and Alfred knew the reason for his irrational anger. Herr Cartman was worried sick with the young Jew's fate. He often sat by the boy's bed and stared at him silently. The moment the redhead woke up and started his slow recovery, Herr Cartman returned to his normal self, actually, he acted more cheerful and sometimes he was even singing softly while walking around in the house. He, of course, pretended he didn't care for the Jew and never visited him again (although he did ask Chef and Alfred how Kyle was doing).
Finally, both Chef and Alfred knew it was no coincidence that Herr Cartman's bookkeeper was fired two weeks after Kyle woke up from his illness. It had been quite the spectacle. A fellow SS guard came one evening looking quite breathless and exasperated. He told Herr Cartman it was urgent and that he needed to accompany him to the warehouse. When they arrived in the building, another two soldiers (looking quite disgusted and shocked) were guarding its entrance. As soon as Herr Cartman walked through the door, he started screaming and scolding furiously. Chef heard the fat Nazi's loud voice and stepped out of the kitchen curious about what was going on.
"Gross! God! Fucking gross!" The fat Nazi yelled infuriated. Chef came closer and heard another lower and begging voice, one that he was quite familiar with.
"Herr Cartman! I-I can explain!" Chef recognized the bookkeeper's voice.
"Explain what?! There is nothing to explain! You're a fucking faggot, dude!" Herr Cartman sounded sincerely repulsed and was beyond doubt insanely angered.
"Oh Jesus Christ" There was another male voice, one Chef did not recognized. He grew more curious by the minute and ventured to come closer. He noticed one of the soldiers was throwing up by a tree nearby while the other two looked absolutely appalled by whatever was going on inside the warehouse. They noticed the good cook but did nothing to stop him from peeking inside the building. Chef froze at the entrance. Inside, next to a pile of straw, stood two men trying ineffectively to hide their naked bodies. He recognized Mr. Garrison, the bookkeeper, with his bald head, unfriendly face and silly glasses. The other man was a stranger to him. He was strong built, dark haired and wore leather clothing, extremely tight and extremely revealing.
"Please, Herr Cartman. Please, do not harm us." Mr. Garrison meekly begged.
"What?! You fucking faggots! What do you think this is? The red light for gay retards?!" Herr Cartman screamed out of his mind. "Shit! Do you even realize how disgusting you both are?! I mean …Gross! Is this why you hired an assistant for? To fuck your ass every day!" The fat Nazi yelled at Mr. Garrison, who shrunk shocked at the irate words.
"Oh Jesus Christ!" The stranger said, looking absolutely embarrassed, while the bookkeeper looked completely lost for words.
"Fuck off, you donkey-raping shit eater!" Herr Cartman scolded the stranger.
"Jesus Christ!" The stranger said clearly shocked.
"You know what this means, don't you?" The SS asked with his low threatening voice.
"No!" Mr. Garrison screamed desperate. He threw himself on his knees and tried to grab Herr Cartman's boots, but the Nazi instinctively took a step backwards, feeling disgusted, so the older man scratched the dirty ground with his fingers instead. "Please, don't send us to the camp! Please! I beg you! We never did any harm to anybody!"
"Shut up! Eat penguin shit, you ass-spelunker! You are a freak! An abomination! A disgrace for the Aryan blood! It's the camp you belong in!" The cruel Nazi sentenced the two homosexuals.
"Oh, Jesus Christ!" The stranger moaned startled and sorrowful as the three (still disgusted) soldiers pointed their riffles at him and Mr. Garrison and escorted them outside, to the camp where their new hard life would start. Herr Cartman exited the warehouse, rubbing his thick fingers on his forehead. He only saw Chef when he lifted his head and discerned his large figure in the dark.
"Well, I guess I'll have to find myself a new bookkeeper" He said in an absentminded tone. They walked together back to the house. "That fuckhole! Now I have to send a letter to the main office asking for a new bookkeeper and wait an eternity before they'll send me candidates. And then the question is if they are even right for the job!" They walked silently and then Chef wondered out loud.
"Why don't you hire Kyle? Everybody knows Jews are good in accountability." The dark man offered. Herr Cartman looked at him and although his expression was one of surprise, his eyes glinted triumphantly.
"That's it! That's the most hella awesome idea ever!" Herr Cartman enthusiastically answered, sounding relieved with this solution. "I don't need to lose my time looking for some new dipshit and I get to rip on a Jew at any time!" He merrily said. He halted just in front of the entrance door and gave Chef an accomplice look. "Do you know what the best part is? I don't have to pay my bookkeeper anymore." His smile looked too innocent and he entered the house, leaving Chef standing at the doorstep with the most shocked face. He realized too late it all had been pre-thought. The kind cook had,unknowingly fallen into his boss' trap. He had said exactly what Herr Cartman had wanted him to say. Chef didn't know if he should laugh or be angry at his employer's master plan. Because he knew how Eric Cartman was. A young man with a troubled past, with sick ideologies and a disturbing collection of contradictions.
A/N
So, this is how our little fat brilliant's mind worked things out:
Mr. Garrison has been working in this house since the opening of Camp Dachau, for Herr Cartman's former SS-commander. Herr Cartman knew, of course, from day one, Mr. Garrison was gay (too obvious not to notice!). The Nazi Regime was against homosexuality and forbade it. But, and for Herr Cartman being the person he is, he never did anything against it. Instead he kept this piece of information aside to use it against the bookkeeper in an opportune moment, should it be needed. He was also perfectly aware that Mr. Slave's function had nothing to do with bookkeeping. This he too allowed, remaining silent for the same reason as above mentioned.
When he brought Kyle to his house, he started plotting a way in using the two men's homosexuality against them, so they would be arrested for their crime and Kyle could fill 's place without raising any suspicions. All he needed, was the two men's secret to be discovered by somebody else. He followed closely the men's daily routine and discovered, every evening they headed to the warehouse. The sounds that came inside of the building confirmed what kind of activity was being performed in there.
So, the day Kyle became strong enough to be detached from the bed, but too weak to return to the camp's arduous work (information he managed to get from Alfred and Chef) he emptied the bullet reserves from the soldier's casernes (during the afternoon training activities, acting like a coon) so a soldier had to get the items from the warehouse in the evening.
The soldier caught Mr. Garrison stuck inside of 'Mr. Slave's ass and immediately ordered them to surrender, while he let out the alarm, so his colleagues would come and back him up. This was when one of the soldiers headed to Herr Cartman's condominium and called him.
All went perfectly according plan and Herr Cartman had all the motives and eye-witnesses to arrest the bookkeeper and his lover, in a way nobody could ever guess his involvement in it. All he needed now, was somebody to give him the brilliant idea of hiring a Jew to be his personal bookkeeper. The opportunity presented itself when Chef appeared outside, curious to know what the commotion was about. The fat Nazi knew, of course, exactly what he needed to say, because he knew exactly what Chef would answer.
And so, this is how Kyle became Herr Cartman's new bookkeeper!