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!

Kyle spent the whole day answering job adds he had found on the newspaper.

It was harder to find a job than he first imagined and quickly understood Mr. Cahan's words. Most employers wanted qualified workers and demanded diplomas and certificates. He soon discovered his reference from South Park was considered insufficient. On the other side, they wanted staff that was willing to work many hours for low wages. Kyle figured out they had the luxury to do so, since there were really lots of people looking for a job. New York was the city of opportunity, but, just like Mr. Cahan wisely had pointed out, it was also highly competitive. Fortunately, Kyle was a clever and resolute young man and soon understood the manner he presented himself had much more impact than any studies, talents or documents he could possess.

He ended up being hired by two employers. One was an architect that needed a bookkeeper to work 2 hours daily, from 6 to 8 in the evening. The rest of the day he was to work in a furniture store recently open, as an all-around employee. It was a full-time job, from 8a.m to 5p.m. and easy to combine with his second job. Kyle knew he would have to abdicate from his full-time job once he would start school. But for now, it was ideal. Kyle smiled proudly at his astuteness in finding two jobs so quickly and decided to try his luck in finding a room in the following day.

The next morning, Kyle got up with high spirits, feeling excited to find his own place. He had encountered the previous day, during his job-hunting, many handwritten adds on walls and stores' doors. He now had a list with addresses for potential places, well located to his needs. But soon Kyle discovered it wasn't room-hunting that presented itself as a challenge. Finding a decent room partner, now that was difficult. In the first address, the guy was awkwardly nervous and fidgety. While he was making coffee, Kyle silently explored the house and discovered the guy's bedroom's walls were filled with scary drawings of monsters and demons. The Jew never stayed for the coffee. The second apartment had a huge loud barking dog. Even though the owner guaranteed it was harmless, Kyle was terrified. The dog reminded him too much of those owned by Nazi soldiers. So he politely declined a quick visit in the apartment. The following flat was filled with a strong scent of alcohol, it was a chaos inside, with empty beer cans and food laying everywhere. At the fourth address, there was nobody home, but the hole on the front door made Kyle decide he wasn't returning.

So much for finding a proper roommate.

Kyle though while striped off the fifth address on a small piece of paper. He sighed while he looked at it. There was one last address. He decided to give it a try and should he refuse it too, he would start over the next day. So walked to the last street, feeling exhausted and demoralized. When he arrived, he didn't like the look of the building, which was old and poor. But its location was privileged, close to the subway and to Central Park. He cursed internally when he read the "out-of-order" note on the lift, because the apartment was on the fifth and top floor. He was so tired and frustrated that he almost gave up.

Come on, Kyle. Only this one and then you'll eat something and rest the whole night. He told himself and started climbing up the staircase. He noticed the wooden handrail on the third floor was cracked.

Oh great, just the perfect spot for somebody to fall over and die! He darkly thought, feeling the more annoyed and short-tempered by each step he took. He was panting, sweating and his legs were starting to feel numb. But he eventually reached the fifth floor. The pressed the doorbell but no sound came of it.

Just perfect! He angrily thought with a heavy frustrated sigh. So he proceeded with knocking on the wooden door a bit harder than needed.

"He's downstairs. Do you want me to call him?" A girl on the fourth floor asked as she leaned on the handrail.

"Oh, yes, please!" Kyle said, simultaneously relieved and exasperated, while he wiped some sweat drops from his temple.

He listened to the sound of the girl walking down the stairs, which was followed by some voices, a door closing and rushed footsteps running up the staircase. Kyle became curious and looked downstairs, hoping at least this person would be normal. He saw a mass of untidy blond hair and an orange parka with a hood. He smiled realizing it had the exact same color as his coat. Apparently, the other guy was also curious to take a look at his new potential roommate, because he suddenly stopped to lean over the handrail and look up. Kyle's heart froze when he realized the other had stopped on the third floor and opened his mouth to warn about the cracked handrail. But he never got the chance to do so. His breath got stuck in his throat and his heart stopped beating when he saw the whole wooden structure give into to boy's weight. A scream and a loud thump followed and Kyle stared paler than a ghost with wide eyes and open mouth at the pool of blood forming under the blonde boy.

"Oh my God!" He finally managed to yell in a high-pitched voice. Kyle quickly rushed downstairs, completely forgetting about his tiredness. He slowed down at the last steps as he looked horrified at the spread dead body. He looked around and upwards but nobody seemed to be near. Even the girl from earlier was gone. "Hello?" He called in a shaky voice. "Hello?" He called louder and urgently. He turned to his right when he heard the sound of a door unlocking and felt hopeful. And old man, looking quite annoyed, peeked outside. He looked first to Kyle and then to the dead boy.

"Just leave him, lad. It happens all the time." The old man said in with a cranky voice and closed the door behind him immediately, leaving Kyle alone with the dead body again.

"What the hell?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" The Jew yelled outraged.

This person's family needed to be warned. A funeral had to be organized. Kyle looked shocked from the old man's door back to the corpse and wondered if there were so many deaths in New York that people had become indifferent to them. He was starting to think it wasn't such a good idea to move to this city after all. He looked at the body again and swallowed dry. He took a few hesitant steps and crouched next to the corpse. He brushed some of the blond locks away from the boy's face and released a few sad tears. They were about the same age. Kyle then rested his hand on the dead boy's forehead, closed his eyes and whispered.

"I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I'm sorry your dreams were taken away so soon. I truly hope you are in Heaven now, in a safe haven, living a new life, resting in peace, finding joy beside God." These were the same words he had repeated over and over, countless times, a few years ago when he used to be camp Dachau's bodies' fetcher. He stood up with a sigh and was already thinking about calling 911, when something absolutely impossible happened. In just a few seconds, the body suddenly starting fading until vanished completely and all that remained on the floor was the pool of blood. "What the hell?!" Kyle yelled out loud, his voice high-pitched again, feeling completely creeped out.

"Hey, over here!" Feeling confused, Kyle lifted his head to look up, at the source of the voice. He felt all the blood rush down his face. Waving at him, while leaning over the fifth floor's staircase, was none other but the boy that had just died a few minutes ago, looking very much alive.

…

Kyle sat by the table of a modest living room, drinking a cup of green tea while he stared at the freshly resuscitated boy. Their meeting had been an awkward one. The blonde boy had looked quite surprised when Kyle cautiously climbed up to the fifth floor and accepted his invitation to come in and drink something. He nervously gestured the Jew to take a seat in his poor apartment and told him to make himself at home. The redhead complied silently. He hadn't uttered a single word since the other came back to life. Now, they sat opposite each other, silently sipping their tea, while the tension in the room seemed to grow thicker by the second.

"I actually didn't except you to accept my invitation." The blond boy decided to break the heavy silence. He gave a nervous laugh afterwards. He was desperately trying to look cheerful. He wanted to hide the pressure the other's intense gaze was putting him under. "Most people just freak out and run away."

"How is it possible?" Kyle asked dryly, burning to know the answer to his question. Because this boy sitting opposite him was no regular guy. Nobody returns from death. Kyle had seen so many dead people in the camp and no one ever came back to life. Why would this boy do? What was so special about him? A shadow crossed the blond boy's blue eyes when the question was put out. He smiled sadly.

"To be honest, I don't know. It just…keeps happening." The blond confessed while his bright eyes rested on his cup's green liquid. "I've been dying since a small child, always to come back to life a while later. I have no idea why." Kyle swallowed dry and almost regretted putting the question out in the open. He noticed the remorseful undertone and wondered how this young man's daily life was. How it was to cope with such an oddity. How it was to be an oddity. "It was really kind of you to stick with me after I died. The people in this building are so used to seeing me dye all the time that they stopped taking any notice for quite a while already." The blond said in a cheerful manner, but Kyle could recognize the pain in his words. The boy desperately wanted to hide his suffering. The Jew couldn't help but sympathize with this guy. He had gone through quite some trials himself during his short life, but this blonde young man was clearly having his own share of pain and troubles.

"I guess I just did what any human being would do." Kyle dismissed, feeling truly bad for the strange boy. He wondered what his family, his friends thought about his situation. He wondered how they dealt with it.

"Or you did it because you have encountered death before." The blonde boy merely stated. His expression had suddenly changed from carefree to serious and knowing. Kyle felt his heart rate increase while and unpleasant feeling settled itself in his stomach. He realized it wasn't a question.

"What do you mean?" The redhead asked, forcing his voice to come out soft but strong. He felt all at the sudden uncomfortable. He had the strange feeling this other boy knew something about him, about his past. But it was impossible, right? They were strangers, after all.

"I'm sorry this had to happen to you. I'm sorry your dreams were taken away so soon. I truly hope you are in Heaven now, in a safe haven, living a new life, resting in peace, finding joy beside God." The boy said with his eyes down casted and Kyle could feel chills run down his spine as he listened his own words being uttered by somebody else's lips. "I heard it. Your prayer, when I was dead. When you touched me… And then I saw your memories." The blonde explained in a whisper and Kyle felt his hands tremble. "You see, when somebody makes physical contact with my dead body, as gentle or quick as it may be, it's like it opens a window to me. It's like if my soul enters inside others' minds. And then I see the others' thoughts… It's not something I can control. I wish I could, because I always see glimpses of people's traumas and painful pasts." The boy paused, took his last sip of tea and then looked at Kyle. They both bore the same haunted look in their eyes. "I-I saw what you were thinking when you said the prayer. I saw this barren place, with snow and mud…You were carrying dead people in a handcar. I saw piles of corpses, with their chests open. I saw you burn them. And while you did, you said to them the same prayer you said to me."

A heavy silence was followed. Kyle swallowed dry and forced his tears back. His whole body was trembling. It was a very odd situation. And yet, it felt right. It almost felt comforting, as confronting as it was. His past, which he had chosen to push away and make it distant, became suddenly very close, very real. Like if he had lived it all, just yesterday. The blue eyes refused to leave his. They were wiser and older than they should. Above all, they weren't passing judgment. They just wanted to know the truth.

Kyle felt many confusing emotions while he listened to that soft voice and looked into that comprehending blue gaze. He felt scared and safe at the same time. He felt pain and relieve. He felt understood and not judged. And so, the redhead fell silent for short seconds. But for him, they seemed to stretch themselves to ages. He listened his heartbeat pump fast in his ears. Took long deep breathes. His eyes never left the blue ones. He felt he could trust this stranger. Why did he feel he could trust him he did not know. All he knew was that he could. So, Kyle ordered himself to calm down. When he finally felt his mind regain some control over his nerve-wracking emotions, he exhaled deeply.

"The concentration camp in Dachau. Winter of '43." Kyle said in a shaky but clear voice. The other boy's eyes widened a bit at the realization the redhead was a holocaust survivor. "I was the camp's bodies' fetcher." The blonde put his hand in front of his mouth in shock. He stared a few uncomfortable seconds at Kyle's profound green eyes.

"Y-You…are a Jew?" The blond boy hesitantly asked while he slowly removed his hand from his mouth. Kyle gave him a sad smile and pulled up his left arm's sleeve. A small tattoo with some numbers was revealed.

"24551." The blonde read out loud. "I've heard some quite disturbing tales about torture and gas chambers." He said, clearly horrified. Kyle put his sleeve back down.

"Yeah, Dachau was a pretty hard place to be in. It was a labor camp. But worse than the hard work and lack of food, were the SS officers. They loved to display power and abuse it all the time." Kyle said, feeling chills run down his spine at the memories. He let out a heavy sigh. "Anyway, people weren't gassed there. I mean, they did have gas chambers, but they were only used once because of a typhus break-out." He tiredly brushed his fingers on his temple. It was becoming late. He felt exhausted from the incessant room hunting. The recent witnessing of a death and its improbable resurrection were still haunting his mind. But it were the old memories of a past he preferred to ban that were sucking off all his energy. "I prefer to forget it."

"You know, trying to forget something that marked you this strongly…It's the worst thing you can do." The blond boy kindly said and Kyle stared at him mystified. "Sure, you'll put it aside and pretend it never happened. But forget. No. That, you will never truly do. It just won't happen. And the more you'll suppress your bad memories, the stronger their impact and influence in your daily life will be. You can only move on if you accept your past, accept these memories and give them a place in your life." Kyle stared at the boy with a surprised look and was lost for words for some moments.

"Ehm…wow…Are you a shrink or something?" Kyle said half shocked, but clearly impressed. He released an amused chuckle afterwards and the other boy smiled genuinely. He looked truly cheerful for the first time since they met.

"Ha ha! I guess dying in a daily basis makes one wiser!" The boy said in a laughter and Kyle smiled.

"So…What about if I check on the rest of the flat before I decide if I want to move in and follow therapy with you?" Kyle said in a joking manner and the other boy seemed to finally loosen himself, releasing a spontaneous laughter.

"You're on…" Then blonde suddenly realized. "I'm sorry, we've been talking all this time, but I believe we didn't introduce ourselves."

"Oh, you're right! I'm Kyle. Kyle Broflovski." The redhead said while he stretched his hand. The other followed his example and they shook hands.

"And I am Kenneth McCormick. But everybody calls me Kenny." The blond proudly stated in a giggle.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Kenny." Kyle said, mirroring the other boy's cheerfulness.

"The pleasure is all mine."

A/N

And BANG! We have Kenny in the story! I know some of you have been particularly anxious about the moment when I would (or not) put Kenny in "The Violin". I know it's a late appearence, but I hope the waiting was compensated ;)