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!

9 March 1947

Simon Wiesenthal. I curse this name. I curse this Jew's existence. I curse his crusade in finding me. Most of all, I curse his brilliant mind and perseverance. He somehow finds me. Every time. I played all my tricks, all my cards, and yet he's never fooled. Ever. He won't give up. He's headstrong. He's thirsty for revenge. A thirst that will only be satiated once all Nazis are tracked down and meet their doom. He won't give up. I can run forever, but he will always find me. He gives me no option. I must pretend to die.

Rio Alsaseca. I run towards the deafening sound of one thousand waters coiling into the depths of a pitiless pool. I've heard about the Big Banana Falls. Nobody can survive such a fall. But I must try. I can hear his voice shouting my name from far behind me. I can hear him command me to stop and surrender. I keep running until I'm standing on the edge of the thick violent waters. And have second thoughts. Nobody can survive such a fall and I can now see why. The speed is too rapid. Liters and liters of powerful torrents fall in a deep dive, crashing down below with a merciless roaring hit. It's a perpetual thunder. I hear a shot in the distance and startle. Simon Wiesenthal. He won't give up. He will always find me. He will never stop until I die.

128-feet high. I look down at the falls. And gulp dry and nervous. I must try. I must fake my own death. He gives me no option. It's a long shot. It's impossible. He won't give up. I close my eyes. He will always find me. I see Kyle's green eyes, his gentle smile. He will never stop until I die. I feel my body enter the void. Nobody can survive such a fall. But I have to.

It's a fast and pitiless fall. I take a deep breath and crash with an excruciating painful clap in the water. The currents pull me down and I sink quickly to the bottom. My whole body hurts. I think all my bones are shattering from the pressure that crushes them from all directions. I feel my mind go dark from the agony but force myself to remain conscious. Everything hurts. My ears are deaf and tingle viciously. I'm being pulled down by the extreme twisting and twirling force. I don't fight it. I know it will tear my body apart if I do.

I can't breathe. I'm drowning. I see Kyle's green eyes and his gentle smile. And suddenly open my eyes. I'm sinking into the depths of the lake, where the force of the currents are dying out. My whole body hurts. It feels like my bones are all cracked, but I summon all the strength and energy my body still haves in it. I motion my arms once and they lift me a bit in the water. I'm drowning. My lungs are burning. I move my arms and legs quickly, ignoring the piercing pain each movement strikes my body. My muscles are in fire. My lungs are going to burst. I can see light. I can see the surface. And desperately summon the last piece of liveliness from my dying body to pull up.

I gasp greedily as my head cuts the water. I breathe large gasps of precious air. Divine air. My whole body hurts. My bones feel like they were crushed. My muscles burn. I'm weak and cannot move a finger. My brains scream to fight back exhaustion. I see Kyle's green eyes, his gentle smile and suddenly all becomes dark.

…

The present, 17 January 1948

"It was a miracle to survive that fall." Herr Cartman told Kyle. The redhead was sitting opposite him now, his face tense and sorrowful for his lover's past trials. "That was the first thing I heard when I woke up after the fall. I had survived it and the strong currents dragged me quite far away. When I managed to come to the surface I lost conscience. My luck was that I emerged on a spot where there was a group Mexicans searching gold in the river. They got me out of the waters long before Wiesenthal could even reach the place. The Mexicans took me to their small village, about 30 miles from there. I doubt Wiesenthal ever put the possibility of me surviving the fall, even more to search me in that village in the middle of nowhere."

"Wow! That was… quite a luck." Kyle gasped, truly amazed.

"Yeah. I guess Fate finally decided to smile upon me." The Nazi said with a grin.

"Fate, God, I don't care. I'm just glad you're alive. That you're back." The Jew said and kissed Herr Cartman on the lips. "But, if you had gotten rid of Wiesenthal already in March, why did you take so long to reach me?"

"Believe me, I wanted to. But my body…It was like if all strength and energy was stolen away from me. And I had quite some fractured bones…I was months in the Mexican Hospital. I believe it was another wonder to come out of it alive, even more, completely healed." The Nazi complained, but leaned over afterwards to kiss Kyle and wipe his concerned look away. He pulled him back, so the redhead was sitting against his chest again. Herr Cartman hadn't realized until then, how desperate he was to feel the Jew so close, his body warm against his. "God I hate that godforsaken place! It's even worse than India! And I had no money, no contacts, no nothing. I had to do low rated jobs in the construction and agriculture. It was survival. But in September I finally succeeded in founding a new company. In the beginning I had to do all the work myself. It was pretty heavy and dirty work, but it eventually paid off. By November I had my own Mexican workforce and the company went international. Ever heard of the Parental Revenge Center?"

"No way!" Kyle exclaimed, shocked and amused at the same time. "You are the asshole that painted by parent's house with shit?!"

"Your brother hired my team. He doesn't even know I'm the company's owner." The Nazi said in a chuckle. "He was pissed up with your parents because of some stupid show he wanted to go to and your bitchy mother didn't allow."

"Hey! Do not to call my mom a bitch!" Kyle yelled infuriated and the Nazi drew a crocked grin when the Jew furiously spat at him. He had forgotten how quickly pissed off the redhead could be.

"Kyle's mom's a bitch!" Herr Cartman childishly started singing and Kyle could instantly feel his blood boil at the insulting words. "She a big fat bitch! She's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world! She's a stupid bitch …. Hey!" The Nazi yelled when the redhead punched him hard on the face. He was reminded of how hot-tempered Kyle was, and that he was much stronger that he looked.

"Shut up Herr Cartman!" Kyle screamed infuriated, his eyes darkened, cheeks reddened from the anger."

"Okay, Okay…I'm sorry, dude." Herr Cartman said while he lifted his hands in a sign of surrender while Kyle gave him a wary look. "But you do have to admit she's not the easy type."

"I don't care." The redhead retorted, still feeling upset. The Nazi gave him a tentative kiss and only after a series of many warm and tender caresses did the Jew relax again in his arms.

"Anyway, while the Mexicans were spreading feces on your parents' the walls, I found a newspaper article about you in a frame hanging on the living room's wall." Herr Cartman continued. "That was less than a week ago."

"Shit… Of all places, you got into South Park and of all houses, you got into my parents. That's one pretty big coincidence."

"I'm telling you, Kalh. It's Fate! Your violin…its keeps bringing us together." There fell a contemplative silence between the two lovers. Then the redhead suddenly realized. It all made sense now.

"Kenny…He knew! That's why he insisted so much I should come here!"

"Wait, what?"

"Kenny. My roommate! The guy you saw die!" Kyle explained excited. "He has this gift… or curse, it depends of how you look at it. Anyway, he dies frequently. And then he resuscitates shortly after." The Jew suppressed a chuckle at the Nazi's stunned expression. "I swear, I'm not making this out and I'm not crazy." He giggled. "Did you happen to touch him?"

"Ehm…I might, when I shoved the letter in his pocket." Eric said warily, eying Kyle like if he was completely nuts.

"In that case he knew who you were. He knew you were bonded to me!" The Jew continued in his happy realization.

"Riiiiiight." Herr Cartman said, seriously starting to worry about Kyle's sanity. "You know, you kinda sound mad. You didn't drink absinth before coming here, did you?" The Nazi asked with his eyebrow arched. Kyle was giggling, but at the mention of the drink he stopped. He looked shocked at the Nazi and went pale. Herr Cartman was himself startled by the haunted look the redhead gave him and regretted his words right away. "I'm so sorry…I didn't mean it in that way."

"You were there? In the Cat's Hat?" Kyle whispered shocked.

"Yes. I watched you play. You're amazing and improved so much." The Nazi said with a proud gentle voice. "I meant to talk with you after the show, when the bar would be practically empty, but then you… you know."

…

Evening of 16 January 1948

I enter the «Cat's Hat». I never expected Kyle to play in a Jazz club. And yet I'm not that surprised. He always liked to try new things, explore his gift in music, innovate and experiment.

I sit in a dark corner, hidden in de shadow of my hat and the collar of my coat. And my heart beats of expectation, while my eyes search and keep searching. I'm nervous and expectant. I will finally see him. After two and a half long years. I wonder how he is, I wonder if he thinks I'm dead, I wonder if he even thinks about me. And fear. I am scared to death he's over me and has given his heart to somebody new.

More and more people enter the bar and the place becomes crowed in a pleasant manner. Some black dudes cross the bar and some folk greet them happily. They are the musicians. And then I see him. Red bushy curls in a lovely model. A wide smile on his face while he enters the club. He's warmly greeted by his new friends. He looks great. A bit thinner than I had expected, but he always had a small frame. His laughter reaches my ears. My heart warms and contracts at the same time. He's the most perfect, beautiful and happy vision of my life. I want to run to him, tell him I'm back and that I will never let him go, ever again. But I know that is nothing but a mad fantasy. So I remain seated, while my eyes follow him avidly.

Kyle and the band climb up the podium. The piano plays soft notes. The percussion gives a rhythmic beat. The sound of the violin flows in the room. And everybody is silenced. The band backs up his melody greatly and fantastic duets between piano and violin or saxophone and violin are made. It's fascinating. It's exhilarating. It's magical. Kyle is a genius of music and I'm just sure a bright future awaits him.

There is an interval in the show and he sits by a guy and two chicks. And my heart sinks. Kyle looks absolutely delicious, tempting with his messed curls, sweaty brow and rosy cheeks. One of the girls keeps flirting with him. My blood boils. But Kyle rejects her. I sense a smile creep on my face. The chicks leave and a conversation starts between the Jew and the blonde dude. And whatever it's about, it's consuming Kyle. His face tenses. His eyes are sorrowful and filled of hurt. He looks older and I worry. I can see he's suffering. And I fear it's for me. News about my death must have reached him already.

Whoever this blond guy is, I'm hating him right now. That sweet expression on the Jew's face should be only reserved to me. There is a bond between them. I figure its love. I'm already planning to murder the sucker when the girls return and sit with him. The blonde dude wraps his arms around each of them with a great contented smile. So, he's not into Kyle. And by the accomplice smile the Jew is giving him, neither is he. And I sigh, relieved.

The night goes on. The music is fantastic. Kyle is absolutely astonishing. But it becomes difficult to enjoy the evening. Because I worry myself the whole time. I fear for his reaction. I fear for a rejection, for anger, for despise. I tell myself I'm being ridiculous, but I fear all the time.

The evening is over. The blonde dude, clearly a pervert, has left with the two chicks. Most of the clients and musicians have left. Kyle is sitting by the bar. And I'm stuck to my chair. I tell myself this is the moment, but my legs refuse to move. I can see he's smoking and drinking. And grow concerned. Because that's not what Kyle would do. After a long hesitation, I force myself to get up. I will make my presence clear. My heart pumps dangerously fast. I'm holding my whiskey glass like if my life depends on it. And sit right next to him.

Kyle doesn't even notice me. His hand holding the cigarette is shaking. I can smell the absinth he drinks in one gulp. His eyes are unfocused, his voice slurry. Cracked, filled of exhilaration, filled of hurt. Only now, that I'm close enough, can I see his paled features and the rings under his eyes. I instinctively know, it's not from lack of sleep. And I listen, to his speech about death, about empty existence and I'm lost for words. The piano guy comes to rescue Kyle from his euphoric depression. I watch them leave the bar. I'm not even going after them. The moment had never been there anyway because Kyle was not being himself. He was a tormented soul drowned in alcohol. And I decide tomorrow will be a better day.

…

The present, 17 January 1948

"It hurt so badly, when I thought you were dead." Kyle confessed. "The absinth…I only did that to lessen the pain."

"I'm sorry." Herr Cartman sincerely apologized.

"Don't. You're back. And that's all that matters."

A/N

I cannot believe I'm writting this...The next chapter will be the final one!

Having mixed feelings

Oh, do review!