Author's Note: Well, you had a break from the sad. It was nice, right? But without further ado I present to you... the trigger warnings:

Trigger Warning: Abuse, Death.

Chapter Fourteen: When Did This Storm Begin?

The song is by Shiny Toy Guns.

Four days had passed and Kenny still hadn't heard from Butters. He had tried texting and calling and even visited his house yesterday but Linda had answered the door and told him he was sick. Then she told him to stop visiting her son and slammed the door in his face.

He had no clue what to do... but he knew he fucked up.

Karen was coming home on the 2nd so he was busy preparing his room for her return. His big-busted women posters came down and his porn stash was stored under the loose floorboard under the stained rug. His bed was made for her, and he made a small bed in the opposite corner out of a blanket and two towels for him because he knew until she was fully recovered she had to sleep on her own. She would struggle with that more than him, though. Doing this preparation was enough to keep him from thinking about Butters for a little while. But his heart weighed heavy and his mind constantly drifted to the small blonde.

He just wanted to say sorry...

Bebe and Wendy called Kenny after he forced a stale off-brand toaster pastry down his throat; they couldn't even afford the after-expiration-date Pop Tarts anymore. The other pastry would be for dinner. He zipped up his parka and walked the long way to Bebe's house so he could avoid the temptation of knocking on Butters' door or climbing to his window. At the sight of him, both girls knew something was wrong but didn't push; his emotions were worn like an open book on his face. They dragged him up the stairs and into Bebe's room. For his protection, they locked the door.

"Do you know what song you're doing?" Kenny nodded.

"Mashup." he responded numbly. Bebe sent him a sympathetic look.

"What happened?" She asked as she dug in her closet. Wendy opened a large makeup kit fit for the theatre department; in fact, it probably was the theatre department's makeup.

"I fucked up," he murmured.

"How?" Wendy asked, handing Bebe a pair of scissors. Kenny looked between them nervously.

"Relax, I'm trimming your hair; it's like you chopped it with a knife." Bebe assured him.

"I kissed Butters under mistletoe and he hasn't talked to me since and I don't know what the fuck I did. But I did something." Wendy choked on the cider she had taken a sip of.

"What?!" She gasped. But Bebe just kissed his forehead and went back to cutting his hair.

"Aw, hon, relax. He's like a stray cat. He was probably scared. He's not your usual slut, or... y'know, the other one." Kenny rolled his eyes as she snipped his hair.

"Well yeah, except the night before we-" he cut himself off and was determined not to finish that sentence. Bebe and Wendy both looked at him, expecting him to continue, however. The blonde girl kicked him when he remained silent.

"The night before... what?" The blonde pushed; Kenny shrugged his shoulders. "Answer now or you get a mullet with a reverse mowhawk." Kevin did that on purpose once, it wasn't pretty.

"He told me he liked me. And that was after we made out. But I'm so confused, Bebe this has never happened to me before." She patted his shoulder reassuringly. Wendy still had not gotten over this information as she stared at him with an incredulous expression.

"You and Butters?" She asked incredulously, "I always thought..."

Bebe ruffled his hair and examined the locks to make sure they were even.

"You already look so much better," She murmured cheerfully to brighten his day. Kenny tried to look at himself but she turned his view from the large mirror. "Now, put these on."

Bebe dumped the contents of the blue bag on the bed and Kenny gawked.

"I'm gonna look like... an emo!" He cried, shaking his head.

"No you're not, if I know you, you're gonna love this." Kenny sighed and slowly undressed himself. Wendy looked away in upset as she caught sight of his malnourished body. He ignored her reaction and quickly slipped into the black skirt.

"I also figured you'd want to have tits." Bebe murmured, handing him a special bra. He examined it and smirked.

"That's fucking awesome! I gots me some titties!" he chirruped, slipping his arms through the straps. Wendy tightened it, careful not to touch his bony skin, and adjusted the front.

"Now the shirt," she told him and then helped him get into the form-fitting tank top.

It was odd but it was one of the first times his clothes actually fit, albeit a little tight. The fact that they were girl clothes made it weirder. He squished his feet in the boots Bebe bought and laced them up quickly. The two girls looked at each other, then Kenny, then back at each other.

"I'll do his hair, you do his makeup," the blonde said, Wendy nodded and Bebe pushed him back down.

His hair was tugged, teased,and sprayed; it was awful to touch. He couldn't get used to the foundation clogging his skin or the brushes and pencils poking at his eye. Lipstick smelled and tasted awful and his eyes stung from the mascara.

The girls stepped away from Kenny nearly thirty minutes later and smiled brightly.

"Stand up, Kenny." Wendy told him. He followed orders and towered over them even more than usual due to the boots. He straightened out the skirt and pulled the shirt down a little.

"Shave your legs and you're gorgeous, I can't fucking believe it." Bebe assured with an impressed smile as she pointed to the mirror.

Kenny caught his reflection and his eyes widened. His legs, other than the light blonde hairs, looked feminine and perfect in the tall boots and the grey mini skirt. The top, a tight dark blue spaghetti strap tank top with a midriff black jacket, hugged his body; he could see the outline of his ribs through the shirt.

His chest was what intrigued him; the breasts looked natural and fit well with his body. It was the weirdest thing he had seen; him with boobs and looking like an actual girl, Princess Kenny didn't count because he had been ten, and he couldn't help but touch them. They felt real... looked real... Kenny smirked.

"Don't start groping yourself." Bebe scolded with mirth in her eyes. He dropped his hands and examined his face.

He never gave himself more than a glance in the broken mirror in the morning. But now... his skin looked smooth and one-toned rather than dotted with freckles on the bridge of his nose and spots of acne. His eyes looked huge and smokey with grey and black shadow; the cat-eye effect with the eye liner helped that as well. Mascara brought his lashes out to be much thicker and longer than he thought they were. His lips were a deep red and shiny with gloss, causing them to look thicker than they really were. Instead of laying in a choppy mop that reached his shoulders his hair was teased and heavily layered.

He actually kind of looked like a girl. An actual, semi-pretty girl at that. Kenny touched his face and hair, then awkwardly danced in front of the mirror.

"Kenny, you look ridiculous," Wendy said with a smile.

"I look sexy," he countered in a high, airy voice. Wendy lost it when he spoke, and Bebe rolled her eyes as she laughed quietly to herself. "I have tits, and they're sexy."

"So you have your song? Do you want to perform as you rather than your female counterpart? We have enough room for two more acts. If you want, that is." Kenny shrugged; this was a bit much for a high school fundraiser. "For doing this you also get free tickets to the winter formal afterward." Bebe smirked and handed him four tickets.

He had never gone to any of the dances before and it wasn't something he was too interested in. But he took them anyway and murmured a thanks.

"Now, don't eat more than you normally do for another week. You have five days until you perform and then you really need to gain forty pounds-"

"At least," Wendy added, Kenny nodded. It was difficult when his dad spent all of their money they earned on drugs and alcohol. Off-brand pop tarts and frozen waffles were the only food they had in their house. But he knew she was right...

"Because you're a foot taller than me, you shouldn't be wearing a size smaller than me. You should be like-"

"I got it, I got it, I have to get fat." Kenny snapped a little too roughly; he hated it when people got on his case about being so thin. He didn't look as bad as someone who was intentionally starving himself. It's not like it was his fault; he tried to eat as much as he could. His budget and savings didn't allow it now. After he was sixteen it may be a little different.

Wendy took the coat off of him and he quickly wriggled out of the boots, skirt, and shirt. He stood in his boxer briefs in front of the two girls; Wendy once again making it a point to look the opposite way.

"You know, if Cartman could spare twenty pounds..." Kenny trailed off jokingly and nudged her. Her cheeks heated as she shook her head. "How can you even manage to look at that?"

"What are you talking about?" She asked defensively and in denial. Kenny shrugged his shoulders and smirked as he buckled the belt to hold his jeans up and zipped his parka. He'd worry about washing off the makeup at home.

"I dunno..." he trailed off, giving her a side glance as he folded the clothes and put them back in the bag. He then winked, smiled at Bebe, thanked her, and gave both girls a hug.

"This is going be perfect, Kenny," Bebe told him as he climbed out her window. He nodded, waved them off, and jumped from the roof.

His instincts told him to walk by Butters house yet once again he took the opposite way. He tightened his hood over his face so no one could see the makeup and walked with his head low. The wind was freezing and biting, anyway, so his stance looked normal.

He willed himself not to even think about Butters. Right now, he had to go home, shower, clean his room a little more, then go spend the rest of the day with Karen before going over to Kyle's and playing Xbox.

He opened the door to his house and wrinkled his nose at the stench of vomit, beer, and cigarette smoke. He didn't mind the last two as much, but the three smells together in musty air was awful. It reminded him so much of his father and he hated it.

"Shut the fuckin' door!" Stuart cried with a deep slur at him from the couch. Kenny slammed it shut and hurried into his bedroom. He took off his coat, threw it on the floor next to his bed, and pulled out a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. He lit the stick and took a deep breath. The smoke burned his lungs and throat but he was so used to the feeling that he loved it. Needed it. He held his breath until his eyes prickled and he exhaled slowly. He'd save his joint for later tonight if he needed it; he probably would.

The ashes fell to the floor and after awhile he put out the cigarette and opened his bedroom door.

"Dad, you in the bathroom?" Kenny called, expecting to hear a belligerent shout from the living room. Instead, he heard the toilet flush and before he could look away, or down, or anywhere, the door opened and his father nearly bumped into him.

"The fuck's on your face?" Stuart asked and Kenny froze on the spot. He took a deep breath and shrugged. It was better to not talk. "Kev, c'mere! Take a look at your faggot brother!" He heard loud thumps coming from Kevin's room and in a moment a hardly dressed Kevin had his head poking out the door. He took one look at Kenny, burst out laughing, and slammed his bedroom door shut.

Oh crap.

"What are ya? A fuckin' girl?" Kenny remained silent and lowered his eyes. He felt his father's hands slam him hard against the wall; his head snapped back and he bit his lip. "Answer me!"

"Fuck off," Kenny spat and shoved Stuart away from him. It was enough force to push the older man away in time for Kenny to run into the bathroom and lock the door. He pressed all of his weight on the door as he ran the cold water and splashed his face furiously. He scrubbed as hard as he could with toilet paper and his fingernails. The makeup smeared but soon it began washing off.

He ignored his fathers screams and pounds on the door. Kenny knew he was in deep shit but he at least wanted the makeup off of his face. It was stupid to have thought his father and brother wouldn't be home... they never went anywhere except to get drugs.

"Kenny, open the God damn door!" Stuart hollered as his fists pounded endlessly on the door.

"Eat shit!" Kenny hissed vehemently as he dried his face off with the towel without haste. His skin was broken and red from his jagged nails but it didn't matter; he'd be worse in twenty minutes, anyway.

Kenny opened the door and was instantly thrown against the opposite wall again. His head cracked the wall and he hissed in pain.

"The fuck is goin' on with ya?" Stuart barked, "No son o' mine is gonna wear fuckin' makeup like a fairy faggot!" Kenny rolled his eyes and laughed; that earned him a blow to his bad ear and his jaw. "Ya fuckin' heard me, Kenny?!"

"Sorry dad, I'm as faggy as they come. It's your fault though. You make me get on my knees for everyone I meet on the corner. The women just don't bite... but the men make me bleed. I just can't get enough cock in my mou-"

Kenny fell to the floor at the forceful hit to his head. He felt the kicks and beatings on his body and kept his mouth shut. He had gone too far; he felt it as blood gurgled in his throat and spilled from his nose. Kenny pinched his eyes shut and covered his mouth as he stifled his pain-filled cries. Stuart's steel-toed boot came in contact with his left eye; he heard something crack. Searing pain shot through his face and body and he felt vomit mix with the blood in his throat. Kenny swallowed it down.

"I'll beat it outta ya, boy! Don't think I won't!" Stuart shouted drunkenly, Kenny scrambled to his feet before Stuart could do anymore damage. Yet his body screamed in protest. He sent his father a crooked smile.

"You're gonna have to kill me first 'cause nothing gets me off better than getting fucked in the ass and sucking dick." Kenny spat as his nails dug into the wall to keep him standing. Everything was foggy and his movements were slow; he was slowly losing consciousness and he couldn't in his dad's presence.

Kenny gasped as something sharp stabbed his ribcage. With wide eyes, he looked down and saw his dad's switchblade handle pierce through his shirt and deep within his flesh.

"Don't mind if I do," Kenny closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He grabbed for something yet found nothing. He knew better than to take out the knife; he'd bleed out much faster and it was not in it for him to die now. It had been too long and he'd be gone for a long time if he did... he couldn't risk it. Kenny was blinded by a powerful hit to the head and yelped in pain as he landed on the floor. The force lodged the blade deeper in his stomach. Bile, saliva, and dark blood gurgled out of his mouth, and he briefly choked.

Another thud was heard and Kenny snapped his head up to see what happened. Hazy eyes fixated on his stocky older brother. The brown haired boy snorted softly, a habit now, and kicked the unconscious form of Stuart.

"Kev..." Kenny whimpered, voice garbled by the blood. He needed help. He needed to get to the hospital. Kevin stared at him, mind tripping, and slowly reached down. Kenny gasped in pain as Kevin lifted him effortlessly and stumbled as he carried him to the door. Carefully, his brother set him down on nearly useless legs.

"Kenny, get out," he managed to slur as Stuart began to stir. Kevin sounded harsh yet his eyes were sincere, almost pleading with his younger brother. "Ya gotta. Please?"

Kenny nodded, bit his lip, and staggered out of the house. He didn't look back as he stumbled through the ice and snow, falling every so often.

Butters laid on Kyle's couch next to Kyle. Stan sat at Kyle's feet. The Broflovski house was empty, except for the three boys. Ike had been there too for awhile but had gone to the hospital to talk with Karen.

Butters was nursing a hot cocoa and Kyle had just taken his insulin shot. They were relatively quiet as they watched the re-runs of "Terrance and Phillip". Not much had been said at all. The silence was driving all of them crazy yet no one was saying or doing anything about it.

"So, Butters," Kyle finally piped up. In alarm, Butters jumped, which caused the hot cocoa to splatter on his sweater. He grimaced yet didn't really do anything to clean it. "Have you spoken to Kenny?" Butters shook his head and felt his cheeks heat. "Why not?"

"I just... don't know what to say."

"He kissed you, dude. Obviously you were okay with it. Just ask him out." Stan offered, Butters gave him a blank look and set the cocoa mug on the coffee table.

"It's not that simple, Stan. K-Kenny and I... oh who am I kidding?" Butters grumbled, curling his legs to his chest. "I've t-told him I like him, okay? That wasn't the first time we've... done that. He said he didn't want to be with me because he isn't good enough... but then he does that. I don't wanna be a m-me-mess around b-buddy, y'know? I've liked him for a real long time. And... I don't think he gets it."

Kyle sighed heavily and nodded. He understood that. It's kind of what he was dealing with with Stan but... they made what they had work. It was pretty much the same as usual except they ended up making out instead of wrestling each other. But there were no claims of each other, except for "Super Best Friend", and he didn't like that.

"How is he?" Butters asked suddenly. He knew he hadn't spoken to Kenny in awhile, four days and five hours to be exact, and it was difficult. Butters saw the texts and the calls; he just didn't know what to say. He had said all he could and Kenny didn't understand.

"Karen is going home on the 2nd so... how do you think?" Butters grimaced; probably worried. Very worried. Kenny probably needed him and yet he had gone out of his way to ignore him. He even told his mom to tell him he had the flu yet hung out with Stan and Kyle not even three hours later.

"I think you just need to talk to him, Butters." Kyle said, smiling warmly. "You and him... you're inseparable. You always have been, really. As long as I can remember. You can work through this. If it's meant to be, it'll happen. If not, you're still gonna be best friends. " Butters glanced at Stan who looked as if he was absorbing each and every word Kyle said. It rang true for them as well; obviously they were fine with whatever weird relationship they had. Maybe... maybe he and Kenny could be as well.

All he could do was try. He missed Kenny a lot. It was extremely tough not talking to him and he was really lonely. Even though he hung out with Kyle and Stan it just wasn't the same. Honestly he felt like a third wheel; even if they were just playing Wii Bowling or having a snowball fight. They needed Kenny to square things off. It felt wrong without him... and Butters needed his best friend. He didn't remember the last time they went this long without talking. He honestly didn't think they ever had.

"You're right," Butters murmured and pulled out his Blackberry. He texted Kenny quickly, telling him to call or text when he can, and grabbed his warm mug of cocoa. "Terrance and Phillip" came back on and silence resumed.

No text or call for an hour. That was unlike Kenny; even with his old phone he'd always text back within twenty minutes. But if Butters had given him the cold shoulder then he was probably give him his sweet justice. Butters sighed heavily and leaned against Kyle. The redhead put an arm around him for a moment and patted his shoulder.

"Butters, can I ask you something?" Stan piped up this time. Butters nodded and kept his line of vision on the television. "Is Kenny a really a good kisser like he says?"

Butters' cheeks heated and Kyle kicked his romantic interest in the back. He then began to massage his tight muscles with this feet. Stan leaned back and closed his eyes; Butters watched the two curiously. He didn't get it. But they probably felt the same way about him and Kenny.

"Uh..." Butters trailed off, covering his face with his hands. Kyle snickered and nudged Butters playfully. "Yeah, I-I think. He's the only person I've really kissed though so I don't really have c-comparison. But my lips go all numb and tingly. He bites though. But it's not a bad thing. It's like real soft like..." he grabbed Kyle's arm and gave him a soft nibble on his forearm. Kyle gave him an odd look. "But that's usually on my neck or... what?"

Stan tried not to laugh and Kyle shook his head while chuckling softly.

"Nothing. Continue."

"What's so funny?" Butters asked defensively.

"It's just, you're so innocent and he's so not. And hearing you describe this, it's just... ironic." Kyle finished with a smile. Butters shrugged his shoulder.

"Well I was the one who kissed him last time. He actually looked scared. A-and I took off his shirt and kissed all of his scars."

"That's morbid," Stan commented, Butters shrugged his shoulders again.

"Kenny liked it," Kyle snorted with a laugh, "but he didn't really do anything... he just kinda held my hand and fell asleep."

"You mean he didn't try to get in your pants?" Butters shook his head.

"Never. Which kinda sucks."

Stan and Kyle burst out laughing and Butters even joined them. Talking about this was awkward but he had Foot-In-Mouth Syndrome so he never knew when to shut up. Apparently he had gone too far. But it didn't matter; he was an open person. He just liked to share things.

A soft, single knock on the door brought them from their hilarity. Kyle grabbed his glucose meter on the way to the door and set it on the other table before opening the door. He peeked in the keyhole and saw Kenny.

"Speak of the devil..." Kyle told them as he opened the door, "Hey Ken- holy shit!"

Kenny stumbled into the door, shaking, coughing, and bleeding as he collapsed at Kyle's feet. His blonde hair was stained with red, as well as his teeth, skin, and shirt. His blue eyes were clouded and he smiled weakly at Kyle before taking his hand.

"A little help here?" He asked in a hoarse whisper. The blonde's hand moved from his stomach and Kyle heard Stan heave into the trash can. The end of a knife protruded from his stomach and Kyle's head swam with nausea.

Butters ran forward and gripped Kenny's shoulders. The older boy groaned in pain and closed his eyes.

"S-sight for sore eyes," he mumbled before resting his head on Butters' shoulder and coughed.

"Help me!" Butters cried, trying carefully to stand without hurting Kenny. Stan approached and lifted Kenny in his arms. His long legs dangled from Stan's arms as he carried him bridal style. His head limply turned and his eyes rolled in the back of his head as his breathing grew more and more labored.

"What the fuck?!" Kyle cried as he ran to call an ambulance. Butters covered his mouth and fought of the urge to throw up as he ran upstairs to join Stan in Kyle's room.

"Butters, get the first aid kit." Stan told him. With shaking hands and a foggy mind, Butters ran into the bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed the small box, as well as any and all other medicinal products he could find. He returned to find Stan slapping Kenny's face softly, which began to rouse the latter boy.

"Kenny... stay with me, okay?"

"Mm..." Kenny mumbled, turning his head a little.

"Don't fall asleep, dude. Talk to me and Butters, keep your eyes open."

Butters sat down next to Kenny and placed his hand on his cheek. Blood smeared on his skin and he told himself it was just ketchup; it's wasn't Kenny's blood.

"Hey, Ken..." Butters whispered, smiling gently at the boy who gave a sleepy grin. Blood streamed from the corner of his mouth and his chest heaved for breath.

"Wanna see a magic trick?" Kenny asked jokingly, reaching for something with violently shaking fingers. Butters took his hand in his and shook his head.

"No, no, you're gonna stay with me. Okay? 'C-cause I love you and so does Karen... and Kyle and Stan. And this is just a little bit of blood and a few scratches." Kenny laughed bitterly yet stopped to moan in quiet pain. "W-who did this?"

Stan cut Kenny's shirt off, and was careful around the knife. His hands quivered as he neared the wound, and he had to look away at the sight of the blood and bruises. "Kyle!" He cried, stepping back; he hated blood... he hated seeing one of his best friends like this. It made his stomach churn with nausea and familiarity.

Meanwhile, Kenny ran a thumb over Butters' hand and smiled softly. The pull of his lips caused blood to leak from the corner of his mouth and the other blonde felt sick. He made a choking noise and more crimson spilled down his chin.

"It doesn't matter," he gasped, his words hindered by shallow breaths as he begged for air. "Stan, stop." Kenny whispered, his eyes going in and out of focus. He was used to this. The pain and the long process; he usually suffered.

"No, Kyle's calling 911 and you're gonna be fine, dude. It's not that bad." Kenny barked a laugh and scrunched his face in pain. His teeth were stained pure red. Butters ran a hand through his hair and looked into his eyes.

"You're gonna be okay, Ken. You promised me, remember? You said..." Kenny shook his head and parted his lips to try to breathe through his mouth.

"I promised I'd try." Butters sobbed and wiped the blood dripping from his mouth and from his broken nose. His left eye was completely swollen shut and the entire side of his face was swollen. But Butters saw passed the wounds and the hurt and saw, in his glassy blue eye, a scared little boy. Just like when they were little. Kenny was scared... did it never get any better? "Lee? I- I'm sorry for what I did, I get it. I get why you'd hate me, and I d-deserve it. I.. I'm sorry for putting you through so much and... and being such a shitty p-person... that's all I w-wanted to tell you. I'm sorry. And I love you."

"Ken, stop talking like you're gonna die." Kenny's blue eye looked alert for a moment as he looked at Butters. Stan laughed nervously and Kyle carefully knelt on the bed next to Kenny.

"The paramedics will be here soon, but I'm going to try and stop the bleeding." Kyle's gloved hand wrapped around the knife and Kenny jerked in pain. He began to pant and he tilted his head back. Butters lifted his head in his hands and he brushed back the layered bangs from his cold, sweaty face.

"Fucking cold..." Kenny whispered; he hated dying in front of others. He wished they would leave. His chest heaved for breath and he arched his back as Kyle pulled out the blade. He felt the warmth of his body leave him as the blood poured from the wound.

Butters pressed his lips against Kenny's as Kyle applied pressure to the warmth. He tasted iron, it was strong and thick and it made him want to throw up but... if it could keep Kenny alive, he'd do whatever it took.

"I forgive you, I'm sorry too." Butters whispered as he pulled away from Kenny, whose eye was fluttering open and shut lazily. "And I love you too, Kenneth Daniel."

"Leo, can I...?" Kenny trailed off, Butters answered his question by brushing his lips on Kenny's once more. Tears fell from his eyes as he felt Kenny's hand run through his hair. His fingers felt like ice. The dying boy closed his eyes and relished in the warmth radiating from Butters.

Butters continued to kiss him even when Kenny stopped kissing back. He placed tiny kisses on the corner of his mouth, his nose, his forehead, his lips... he held his hand and whispered to Kenny to respond. A tiny squeeze of a hand was his only response. And then there was none.

The fifteen year old heard a shuddered breath and felt Kenny convulse beneath him. Kyle was still applying pressure on the wound and looking at Stan with teary eyes. Stan's head was bowed in prayer or anguish. Butters felt Kenny still beneath him, and he whimpered.

"Kenny?" Butters asked quietly, pulling away from him. Kenny's head was tilted slightly to the side, his mouth was parted, and his right eye was open and staring into nothing. He looked vacant. He looked... "Ken?" he repeated, blood trickled from his nose still, as well as from his mouth. Tears flowed from his eyes as he pressed his head against Kenny's chest; no heart beat. He placed his ear by Kenny's mouth; no breath.

"Oh my God," Stan gasped, backing away from the body on Kyle's bed. Butters felt shock strike his body as he stared at his beaten and battered friend. He could never forget this. His best friend's dead body... feeling him die beneath him... it was too much. He couldn't believe it; could Kenny be joking? Would he come back? Or was that all just a ten-year-old boy's fantasy? He couldn't lose Kenny...

"He isn't..." Kyle trailed off, his face ashen. Butters looked at them both and let out a strangled cry as he burrowed his head in Kenny's still warm chest.

Kenny McCormick had died.

And it was all his fault.