"I can't believe she didn't come," Kyle hisses to Stan as he parks his car in the parking lot. Stan gives a solemn nod.
The reunion with Kenny's parents had been heartwarming, for the most part. He didn't recognize them, or even remember them. But he let his mother hold him tight and told her he loved her. His father apologized, said he would have done something... everyone would have, had they known. But what's done is done and no one can change anything. What matters is that Kenny is safe and finally home.
It was determined that he would recuperate within the hospital. By the time his physical health came round, the doctors presumed his mental health would as well. He has already started physical therapy; and the doctors were pleased to announce that he had started gaining weight. Hormone therapy wouldn't change anything for him; he would always be stuck halfway between puberty, at a small 5'5" with boyish features.
He wasn't so pale, either. Rather, after three days time he appeared warm. Alive. It was refreshing to see and hear him sound more like his old self. Of course, he was still frightened by the slightest things. He still feared Master will come get him; but he realized now that he wasn't wrong. That was a huge step. The most important thing was he was smiling, laughing. To everyone, his laugh was the best sound they could hear. It was as they remembered it, completely blissful. Even a soul tormented by years of abuse could still find a way to laugh; that was amazing. Heroic.
"She's probably scared," the raven replies, shutting the passenger door. Kyle sighs and and has to agree with them.
Karen McCormick is probably terrified to hear her brother ended up in such a situation. That they lead similar lives, and it hadn't been his choice. She made her choices and she now suffers the consequences. The scars on he arms bear her strife, much like the scars on her brother.
But to see him after all these years, and to say that they are the same? No, they aren't. Karen is a prostitute. He is- was- a slave. It has never been his choice. He was taken from his family. She left.
They all knew what Kenny wanted for Karen; she had the grades to go to college- a four-year university. She had the determination. But losing Kenny made her lose her way.
Stan and Kyle both hope that having him back will allow her to find it again.
They enter the complex and walk up the flights of stairs. Kyle has half a mind to scream at her; Kenny had been so excited to see his sister. Even if he didn't remember her, he wanted so badly to see her. In fact, Kenny had hoped it would jog some of his memories. His mother's perfume was familiar to him; he held her tighter after that.
But Karen hadn't shown, and Kyle is now determined to guilt trip her to the hospital. Kenny is disappointed, he's not hurt, but he told them all he is sorry and he hopes she isn't ashamed of him. His mom held him close to her chest and shook her head as she cried silent tears of joy and grief. Stuart's hand remained on her shoulder, and on his son's, the entire time.
They know Karen is unstable. Hell, they both have a key to her apartment, same as Butters, to check on her to make sure she's okay. She keeps to her room most of the time, doesn't eat much. Doesn't do much. She's lost.
So being scared is understandable, although both Stan and Kyle thought she would have run all the way to the hospital as soon as she heard Kenny was safe. She didn't say anything.
"How would you feel?" Stan asked, "I... I couldn't imagine what to think if this happened to Shelley."
"I'd wanna kill them... if they ever got to Ike." They thank their lucky stars it hadn't happened to them.
Kyle knocks on the door to her apartment. There is no sound from her home. He knocks again.
They wait.
And wait.
Finally Stan grabs out his keys and fumbles to unlock her door. The lock clicks, and they enter her apartment.
There are no lights on, yet her car is in the lot. Except, there is a glow from beneath her bedroom door. Kyle sighs heavily and opens his mouth to speak yet Stan holds his finger up to hush him.
"Quando sono solo e sogno all'orizzonte
e mancan le parole
si lo so che non c'è luce
in una stanza quando manca il sole
se non ci sei tu con me, con me
su le finestre
mostra a tutti il mio cuore
che hai acceso chiudi, dentro me
la luce che hai incontrato per strada
Con te partirò paesi che non ho mai
veduto e vissuto con te
adesso si li vivrò
Con te partirò su navi per mari
che io lo so no, no, non esistono più
con te io li vivrò..."
They hear the muffled lyrics from the CD Karen is listening to. That's Kenny's, from when he was eight and went to Romania. Stan smiles a little at Kyle, who rolls his eyes. Nerves, probably. After seven years what could she say? How was she supposed to fee-
"Oh my God!" Kyle gasps and turns his head away as Stan opens her door.
His eyes widen as he stares at the girl before him.
Her body is still, her face red and eyes bloodshot as they stare vacant, right at him.
She's hanging from the ceiling.
Her blood had dried in ravines that ran down her arms, to the floor.
The smell of death hovers around them, decay has already begun. She has been gone for awhile. How long?
"No..." Stan whimpers, covering his mouth. He can't tear his eyes away from her gaze. "No, Karen..."
The song is on repeat.
She died listening to the voice of her brother, in his better days. His best days. He is forever a child to her. Forever her hero.
Stan steps forward, then back; he isn't sure what to do. Kyle is shaking next to him as he grabs his phone to call an ambulance.
The black-haired man runs to the bathroom. He doesn't make it; he throws up in his mouth. The vomit spills into his cupped hands and he can't stop the tears.
Karen McCormick is dead.
Killed herself.
For what?
"...I'm calling to report a suicide..."
Stan drowns out Kyle's voice as he walks out of the bathroom. The acidic taste lingers in his mouth but he doesn't care. Karen is in the next room over hanging on a fucking noose and-
He stops himself. Her eyes stared straight into his. He can still feel her desperation.
His eyes settle on an envelope on the couch. He reaches for it and reads the name. Kenny.
The date? March 21.
"328 Lexinton Avenue... Apartment 43."
"43..." Stan trails off, his anger rising.
She's been dead for four days.
His hand slams into the wall. Kyle jumps in surprise but says nothing. He reaches out and tugs him back, then looks at his hand.
"Thank you," he hangs up the phone and shakes his head as he looks at the reddening skin. "Stan..."
"Apartment 43... Ky," he chokes, "42, 43... it's all just the fucking..." a sob tears from his throat. Kyle blinks back his own tears and pulls Stan close. He feels him clutch the back of his shirt.
Kenny is going to blame himself. Just as he's always done.
It's all relative. It's all the master's fault. But Karen is just more blood on his hands, and what does it matter if they're stained?
They're just numbers, the tally for who he has tortured and killed. 43 people, Craig included.
43 people.
43 innocents. Taken from their lives, everything about them destroyed, only to die with the idea that they're just another number. Just another splatter of blood to wash away.
And here is Karen, untouched by him, but affected no less. Her life was destroyed by the absence of her brother. She lost her way.
And Kenny's home.
Stan sobs loudly into Kyle's shoulder. He hears Kyle's own hitched gasps and tightens his grip around him.
And they were affected too.
Just more numbers to add to the casualties. 44, 45... the list goes on.