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!
Two young men sat on a worn-out couch in a small simple living room with grey naked walls.
Their faces reflected their youth, deprived of any wrinkle, perfect firm and soft skin. But their eyes looked old. Their depths reflected the horrific reality they were forced to witness in a too early stage of life. Eyes that were shaped by the difficult challenges they faced during their young ages. Wise old eyes against young features was the sign of somebody that was had to grow up faster than supposed. Kenny sat on the couch opposite Kyle, in silence. He watched patiently the redhead rub his hands together while he summoned the bravery to tell what happened in Dachau. After a long moment of contemplation Kyle lifted his eyes to meet Kenny's and started talking.
"There was this SS-officer in Dachau that everybody was terrified for. Eric Theodore Cartman. You might have heard or read of him. He's one the many Nazis that ran away after the end of the war and went missing. I had the misfortune to fall under his interest, back then. Which meant he made my life a living Hell. He engaged me in a sickening game of survival. It was him who appointed me to the task of body fetching." Kyle started his recount. He tried to breathe calmly, because he could feel his whole body tremble and wanted to hide his nerves from his voice. Which he failed miserably. He made a sound clearing his throat and hoped his voice would sound less shaky.
"Once in a while, he organized these crazy parties for his friends. There was this one time when he had no musician, which was for him a real catastrophe…. But he had this violin in his home he had once spared from being destroyed by the soldiers. My violin." Kenny gasped with incredibility and Kyle smiled.
"I know. What are the odds of that happening? He soon discovered that I was its owner and I was tasked to play the violin during the party. There was lots of alcohol and opium and things got out of control." Kyle paused. This was the difficult part. He suddenly was having second thoughts. When they were in the café, he thought he should tell Kenny all of the truth. He had felt he could trust him. But this was something extremely personal he was about to tell him. Something not even his family knew. He needed to be sure.
"Kenny, you must swear to me you will never tell anybody what I am about to tell you. Very few people know about it. Will you promise to keep it secret?"
"Y-Yes, I promise." Kenny said in a mix of concern and fear. What could be so important that Kyle needed absolute secrecy? "My lips are sealed." Kyle nodded, straightened his back a bit and picked up from where he had stopped.
"We had sex." He dryly said, his eyes locked on the blue ones. Kenny widened his eyes and exhaled a silent gasp. Not really knowing what to say, he chose to remain quiet and Kyle took it as a sign to continue.
"But it was more than just sex. That night we…we connected. And then everything changed. The bullying stopped. He spared my life when I got myself into trouble. It's true it was torture, but it was the only way to keep me alive. He stopped my father from being sent to Poland to be gassed. And then, in the summer of '43 I got really ill. I was going to die. But then, he took me in his house in secrecy and I recovered. And when I was better, he made me his new bookkeeper. He got rid of his former bookkeeper by accusing him of homosexuality." Kyle paused. He intertwined his fingers and looked at his hands for some moments. He released a shaky gasp at the realization that talking about the past hurt more than he had expected. He had to take a few deep breaths to force himself to not burst into tears. But Kenny could already see the water in the corners of the redhead's eyes. He gently rested him hand on his shoulder and Kyle lifted his head surprised at the touch. Their eyes were locked for some moments and Kenny smiled gently.
"Go on. You will feel better afterwards. You'll see." He softly encouraged and a couple of involuntarily tears escaped Kyle's eyes. He sniffed and smiled. It felt good not to be judged.
"My family was still in the labor camp. So you can understand, after some days, I was asking him to protect them. He swore to me he would with the condition I would do everything he wanted. As you can guess, it was sex he wanted. But not forced. He wanted it willingly. And that's what happened. My family was transferred to the camp's kitchens, which was the best place to be if you wanted to survive there. As for Eric and I…we grew closer together. We both denied to ourselves we were gaining feelings for each other, but, eventually, we were confronted with the reality. It happened in December that year, when my best friend Stan, came to Dachau." Kyle stopped again, concentrating to fit all the memories correctly, chronologically, logically. Kenny stared at him expectantly.
"After my family and I were deported, Stan wrote himself in the Nazi Party to get close to the higher ranks and have an easier access to my whereabouts. He had bought a factory, so he could put Jews working in it, a way to save their lives. He came to Dachau to buy Jews, but he never expected to find me there."
"Man, these are really crazy coincidences. It's like destiny!" Kenny whispered, completely immersed in Kyle's story.
"I know…Anyway, Eric, of course, found out we were friends. He first thought we were trying to frame him, but when he learned the truth, he gave me the freedom of choice between staying and leaving. I chose to stay. My parents and brother went to Stan's factory, under his protection, while I stayed in Dachau, under Eric's. That's why we all survived those two and a half years. When the Allies started closing in Germany, I planned his escape. He flew with his friend to Venezuela a few days before the Allies entered Dachau. It was the last time I saw him. The last time I ever heard anything about him." Kyle said while he wiped his eyes clean. He hated to cry in public, but tears just sprung at their own will. He exhaled nervously.
"There are very few people that know about my relationship with Eric. Stan of course, the butler, the cook, Eric's best friend and you now. I never told my family. I'm pretty sure my father and brother suspect about something, but I never dared to tell them the truth. I never told them I love Eric, because I'm sure they would never understand. And I know it would only kill them. They went through enough already." Kyle explained in a more desperate tone than he had intended so he silenced himself.
"I…I am really sorry." Kenny softly said. "It must be so hard for you. Falling in love with the person branded as the enemy.
"It is." Kyle said in a whisper. "I miss him every day. I have nothing from him. Not even a picture. Only my memories and even those I don't trust anymore…" Kyle took a deep breath and released his last hot tears. "There's nothing more horrible than to feel you are not complete. That a part of your soul was taken away from you."
Kenny nodded and gave a compassionate smile. He gently came closer to Kyle and closed the little space between them. He carefully put his arms around Kyle's back and gently stroked his back. He could hear in Kyle's shaky breathing, he was forcing himself not to cry. And was amazed with the perseverance his friend had. It defined his character, which was beyond doubt, strong-willed.
"You are a very brave person, Kyle." Kenny said while he released the redhead from his hug. "And I am honored to have your trust. I swear, I will never mention this to anybody. Ever."
"Thank you." Kyle said in a chuckle. He could only imagine the mess he looked right now and wiped his face clean for the dozen's of times.
"Life is a strange thing." Kenny said in a distant voice. "I believe that everything happens for a reason. I still don't know why I keep dying, but I'm sure there must be a purpose for it. I guess one day, I'll discover… Meanwhile, I'll just deal with it." Kenny said with a hurt smile. "I believe there is a destiny. One that finds ways to fulfill itself. You and Eric are destined to be together. That is undeniable. Even if the rest of the world is against it. I truly hope destiny finds a new way to bring you both together again." Kyle nodded, not having the strength to talk about Eric anymore. "By the way, feeling any better now?"
"Actually, yes." Kyle said with a wider smile. "I feel like…like some really heavy weight was released from my shoulders."
"Must have been hard, not to talk about him over a year."
"It was. Yet, I think I needed not to talk about him and the war for some time. You know, to heal. I don't think I would have been prepared to talk about this with anybody a few months ago." Kyle confessed, sounding tired, but truly relieved.
"I guess everything happens within its own time." Kenny wisely said.
And so, the two young men with old eyes fell silent. They remained a long while sitting quietly, enjoying the silence, contemplating life matters. Both wondered if destiny too had brought them together. If it had some plan to make them become friends. Because they were brothers in soul, helping each other with their own inner troubles.
…
Days passed by, becoming smaller, darker and colder. It was the first time Kyle didn't spend his Hanukkah with his family. He tried to compensate his mother's disappointment with a long distance phone call. The expensive travel and the busy time at work were his excuses not to come to South Park. Kyle had of course some days off during the holidays. But missing this winter celebration with his family was like a passage ritual to adulthood, to independency. He felt he needed it, so he could own his own life. Because as much as he loved his family, his mother was extremely dominant and claiming. He feared she would try to control his life. And his father, as caring and as understanding as he was, would probably agree with his wife and go along with her rule. So instead, Kyle stayed in New York.
He went to church with Kenny at Christmas Night. Kenny wasn't really the religious type, but he did feel the obligation of going to the church in this date and Kyle didn't mind to come along. It wasn't the first time the Jew attended a catholic mass, he had done it quite a few times as a child to give company to Stan. Actually, he sympathized with the Christian ideologies, which were practically the same as the Jewish.
Kyle's lessons at the Manhattan School of Music started in the second week of January, so he gave up his full-time job at the furniture shop. Fortunately, he received a scholarship, which added with his accounting work, allowed him to pay his expenses and still have a little bit over. Teachers soon found out Kyle was not only extremely talented, but he was also one of the most interested and enthusiastic of pupils. The Jew possessed a rare kind of passion for music, which impressed the teaching staff and inspired his co-students. The first evaluations reflected his perfectionist and creative work. By April, Kyle was the top of the class and considered a new rising star in music. Teachers saw a bright future ahead of him and already talked about joining him in an orchestra for internship the following academic year.
The redhead brought the good news to his parent's home, who were more than proud at his achievements, when he decided to spend the long Easter weekend in South Park. He wasn't surprised to see nothing had changed in this crazy small town, except for his brother, who was taller and clearly entering pre-puberty. Kyle had enjoyed his weekend to a certain extend (Ike was becoming infuriately impolite, aliens insisted in paying visits to the town, some crazy Chinese decided to build a colossal wall around South Park and his mother organized a manifestation against it) but was glad when he was back in New York. He climbed up the stairs (the lift was always out of order) and could already hear the sound of Kenny's typing machine. Kyle smiled. The blond had succeeded in getting a job in the Daily Journal of New York. His breakthrough was an article he wrote about the mysterious masked vigilante 'Mysterion' that helped the New York police to hunt down the bad guys.
"Hey! Look who's back!" Kenny welcomed his friend with a wide smile when the redhead opened the door. "How was South Park?"
"Ah, the usual." Kyle answered with a shrug, not really in the mood of talking about the strange occurrences that keep happening in that place. "Writing an article about Mysterion again?" He asked when he leaned over and read the title «Mysterion helps to solve another case.»" Kenny nodded happily and continued typing. "You really have a way of writing about this guy. It's like if you know how he thinks, how he is."
"You really think so?" Kenny said in a mix of pride and embarrassment while he put one hand behind his head. "I guess I have good writing skills."
"You're kidding? Sometimes it's like you're in the guy's mind. Not everybody has such a talent." Kyle complimented while he got a can soda from the refrigerator. He lifted his brow, seeing it was almost empty again. He was sure if he would be a whole week away, the refrigerator would gain spider webs. He was about to say something about it to his friend when the doorbell went. "I'll get it." Kyle opened the door and met a middle-aged man with thick glasses, wearing a dark suit and holding small briefcase on his right hand. "Can I help you?"
"I'm looking for Kyle Broflovski." The man neutrally said and tried to force a small smile. Kyle became immediately wary and could hear the typing in the background had stopped.
"And you are?" Kyle asked suspiciously. He was not just telling this stranger who he was without knowing who and why this man was standing on his doorstep.
"John Coopper. I'm with the American Officeof Chief Council forWarCrime" The man presented his identification. Kyle's eyes widened and he swallowed dry when he saw the official badge. "I have some questions I need clarification from Mr. Broflovski concerning Stan Marsh and Eric Cartman." Hearing these words, Kenny immediately stood up from his chair and walked to the door. He was concerned with his friend and could already see the tension build on Kyle's back. The stranger lifted his eyebrow at the upset look the redhead gave him. The young man had lost all the color from his face. It took some short seconds for the young man to react to his words.
"I am Kyle Broflovski." Kyle quietly said. "Please, come in." He gestured and the man nodded in acceptance. While he entered the living room, Kenny and Kyle switched concerned looks.
"I'll make some tea." Kenny said and his friend nodded.
Kyle could feel his heart rate increase unhealthily. For almost two years he had yearned to know what happened to Stan and Eric, but now that the moment came, he was not sure if he wanted to know the truth. It was a contrasting feeling and the anticipation was killing him. Yet, he did everything not to let any of it transpire. So he walked over to the table, took the typing machine and the papers away and gestured Mr. Cooper to sit down. He sat down afterwards and watched the man open his small briefcase and take some papers out of it. Kyle rested his hands on his lap. He knew he they were shaking. His throat became dry like a desert. His blood was pumping so fast, he was becoming light-headed. His stomach was turning around till he gained cramps. And yet, from the outside, he looked calm, although there was some anxiety to read in his face.
"Do you confirm you were SS-officer Eric Cartman's bookkeeper, in camp Dachau, between August 25th 1943 and April 30th 1945?" The man asked in a neutral voice.
"Yes." Kyle answered in a soft but clear voice.
"Do you confirm you witnessed the transaction of 82 Jews from Dachau camp to Marsh Clothing Factory in Lindonhof, in December 23th 1943, made between SS-official Eric Cartman and Nazi Party member Stan Marsh?"
"I do." Kyle watched as the man scribbled something on a paper. Kenny meanwhile served the tea.
"I'm sorry, I have nothing to accompany the tea." Kenny apologized. He was so used to leave the shopping and cooking to Kyle, that he consumed practically all their stock during his friend's absence. He was embarrassed he didn't even have cookies to offer.
"That's okay. Just tea is fine. Thank you." The man politely said and smiled genuinely for the first time. Kenny nodded, glanced fleetingly at his friend and sat down on the couch feeling concerned. "According to the information I managed to gather, you and Stan Marsh frequented Offenbach's Elementary School. Could you tell me how your friend came into this factory business?"
Kyle listened to the man's question with attention and almost sighed with relieve. He realized was investigating Stan's role in the war. He knew his parents and the other Jewish families had opened a process to exculpate Stan from any war crime. He realized this was his chance to speak a good word in his best friend's defense and finally reattribute Stan's unconditional friendship, loyalty and help.
"Yes, I can." Kyle whispered. Kenny smiled from the couch. He didn't miss the hint of hope and determinacy in the redhead's voice. And instinctively knew all would be fine.
A/N
Sorry for the lack of events in this chapter and the summary may make ik sound repetitive, but I think it also helps to recollect the many happenings in this story.