Kenny awoke to pressure that nearly crushed his skull. He stared into the black void as he sank deeper into the bottomless ocean. His first thought as he oriented himself was that he was floating; or falling. Whatever it was felt… free.

He had prayed to the god inside of him to take him home before he killed himself. It was his last chance, and R'lyeh could very well be the only place that could save him. If he could navigate through the desolation and avoid the beasts that wanted his soul, that is.

His second thought was that he could breathe in the water-like abyss. It burned his nose and he closed his eyes. As he looked around, trying to make sense of where he was or if he could actually see, Kenny only just happened to miss the pair of eyes, red and bulbous, watching him, guiding him.

He felt as if he would be floating for eternity. There was no way to move- the water was too thick and his limbs felt useless. In fact, he couldn't even quite feel them. So he let himself sink within the depths of this forgotten sea, and listened to the thrumming of his heart.

"My son," a voice echoed through the water, in his mind. This voice sounded strangely familiar.

The voice that came from him was not his own. For the first time, Kenny heard Hastur speak; it was that moment he realized his fate.

"Yog-Sototh," Hastur spoke, his voice low and thunderous. The water bubbled around him. "Father, we meet again."

Kenny heard the words; it was R'lyehan. But the most amazing part was that he understood what they were saying. His body may have been nothing more than a disposable vessel but he had gained far more from his lifetime with Hastur.

Butters was wrong... There was no need to practice. Hastur, the elder god, brother and enemy of Cthulhu, did not need practice. All Kenny was was his meat suit. He wouldn't do anything, as long as he awoke Hastur.

"Father, please tell me this is the right thing to do."

"I cannot," Yog-Sototh boomed, the water began swirling around Kenny. The pull downwards had grown much faster, as if someone had pulled the plug. "You know in your heart what is just, but know this. Cthulhu will rise again. Your brother has planned for this."

"And you helped him?"

"I only provided insight, as I am to you now."

Cthulhu would be born again... By Cthylla, it simply had to be. Kenny felt a sense of dread rush through him.

"Your vessel," Yog Sototh addressed him, "he is listening. He knows."

"Let him be, Father," Hastur pressed half-heartedly. Perhaps he knew the all-knowing creature wouldn't allow that. He didn't think Hastur wouldn't care.

Granted, despite being a vessel for the elder god of air, he did know that he was just like them. From what Butters' research had shown, Hastur could easily be more vicious than Cthulhu.

He couldn't see the tentacle as it whirled in the hurricane they were caught in. But it was the last thing he felt as he passed out.

"Wake up," a voice encouraged him. "And run."

Kenny's eyes opened; everything around him was red. The appearance of the world around him reminded him of looking into light with closed eyes; a dull red with a vignette of black. Murky clouds pregnant with rain were ominous and lurking, as if they were watching him. The grass beneath him, also obsidian and pokier than Earth grass seemed to hug him to the ground.

Run, Kenny remembered the voice in his head and sprang to his feet. But this world was unknown to him, despite the smell of familiarity and the hopeful drumming in his heart that told him this was home.

He had no idea where to go, or why he was running. But his feet set in motion despite his mind not telling them to. Hastur was taking over. He felt possessed, stuck in this shell which waned his full potential.

Kenny shook his head and willed the god within him to stay in the corner of his mind; to be a conscience rather than the captain of the sinking McCormick ship. If Kenny was going to die in R'lyeh, he'd rather be the one to sink. The world needed Hastur, not him.

Except someone did. A pang of homesickness that matched the ache in his lungs clutched his heart. Butters needed him, wanted him. Karen too… hopefully. But things were so messy back home, back on Earth… that he wasn't sure if he wanted to go back.

But his feet willed him forward, into the dark bramble. Yellow eyes blinked in the abyss, and squelches echoed in the ceaseless forest behind him. A scream was heard, inhuman and agonizing. He grabbed his side to fight off the catch in his ribs, and fled farther into the thicket.

Roots grabbed at him, urging him to fall. Bat and bird-like creatures swept down at him, going for his eyes, their claws sent out on a bloodlust run and he was the main target.

"Turn left," the voice in his head urged, and Kenny ducked as a tree limb swiped at his head. Be it adrenaline or hope, the ground beneath him was nothing more than a blur as he hurried down the path that caused his heart to beat louder in his head, sounding his approach to whatever he was looking for.

Kenny grimaced as he came to the end; he stood on the edge of a cliff. Around him, plants gave a bioluminescent glow, allowing him to see the endless drop below his feet.

"Jump," the voice coaxed him closer to the edge. Kenny shook his head. The last time he did he met spikes that brought him to his death. However, he had been able to return home.

The ground below his feet rumbled, and before he could step back to safety, he found himself falling- but this time not to a torturous end. Darkness enveloped him as he freefell into nothing once more, with fingers grabbing at him, pulling him close but never enough to latch on. He closed his eyes and imagined himself floating into the depths of R'lyeh, or wherever he was headed.

Kenny fell for what felt like eternity. His body had grown accustomed to velocity in which he fell, and his mind had grown empty. He was no longer afraid or angry; he was just ready to touch the bottom of the endless pit he had been submerged into.

"Open your eyes," he heard a familiar voice. Kenny hadn't noticed he had stopped falling; his body still hummed from the constant pull of gravity.

His eyelids, which felt heavy against his eyes, creaked open and he found himself staring at his reflection. They were floating in the vast nothing-ness he had been subjected to by Hastur. Hastur, who was before him now; all but the yellow eyes were identical.

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Kenneth McCormick."

He wasn't sure if he could say the same. He was staring at the entity who had inhabited his body since his birth; his curse. The one who made his life a living hell, who didn't allow him to simply live as a normal teenager would.

He was floating in the abyss with The King in Yellow. The one who was the catalyst for his death.

"What am I doing here?"

"You're just a child." The words were hard to hear. He hadn't thought of himself as a child since he was ten years old. He didn't really have a childhood and he had to learn how to grow up, adjust to the fact that his life wasn't normal. Especially with his curse. He missed out on so much.

But at that moment Kenny realized he was only seventeen years old. To an elder god, who had been around since before Time began, he must have seemed so insignificant. A tiny speck in the timeline of existence.

"You were subjected to too much, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't change anything."

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Hastur murmured, "What I can promise is that the next time you die will be your last, if that provides any reassurance." Kenny furrowed his eyebrows.

"And when is that?"

"You heard the discussion between my father and I. Cthylla is a threat and it is up to us to end her. Although many in R'lyeh don't see that as the answer, it is what needs to be done for mankind."

"And you're concerned with humans, why?"

Hastur bowed his head.

"They're convenient." Kenny grimaced.

"So I'm just a convenience to you? Glad you think so, when all you've done is take years from my life and torture me. Do you know how fucking hard it is to go day by day wondering when the fuck a plane is going to fall from the sky or a car is going to hit me?" Hastur nodded.

"I'm sorry. I needed you to stay alive. You would have died as an infant if it wasn't for me watching over you."

"So what happens to you when I die?" Kenny asked pointedly.

"I die too. I've grown tired, you see." The blond scoffed and stared at his doppelganger.

"You and me both."

"Your soul is so young, you yourself are actually only twelve years old, do you realize this?" Kenny wrapped his arms around himself. "You've aged, of course. That's the curse, that's how I've projected you. But if the curse were to exist as it should have…"

"You need to stop." Kenny barked. He didn't even want to think about that aspect of his curse. He had a feeling that was the case; he just didn't want confirmation. "Just… what are we doing here? I want to go home."

"I need to prepare you."

"For what?"

"The next time you go back you will face my sister. If you are not prepared, you will not be victorious in killing her."

"You mean you won't be." Hastur gave a nod. "You're just… you're going to take over my body, is that it? You've been in the background, nudging me and advising me, though I'd like to say that was my conscience. It was you. But…"

"Come the final battle, I will need your soul to defeat her."

"So… I'll be dead." Hastur nodded. "Will it hurt?"

"Yes."

"Will my friends know? Will Lee?" Hastur shook his head.

"Leopold… he will be the one to initiate your death. He is Death, after all." Kenny blinked.

"Will he know he killed me?"

"No, unless you would like me to share it with him."

Kenny sighed softly. He hadn't thought it would end like this; he didn't think he was going to be the one to go first, or at all. He had imagined saying goodbye to Butters when he was old and had long since forgotten his name. Not when they were still young and had so much to live for; they hadn't even really lived yet. All they had been able to do was try and survive.

The future had seemed so bright for them. He wasn't sure if it would be best to let it all go as soon as he got back home, to kiss Butters goodbye, and let fate take its course.

"It's not fair." It was childish, and it sounded child-like coming from his throat. But it wasn't fair, not really. Not to have the entire world depending on your death and selling your soul to an elder god. There wasn't even a chance at an afterlife, or rest. Not when your soul is sold… or consumed. Whatever would come first.

"I didn't think you could die," Kenny finally said. "My research, my friends' research… we didn't think it was possible."

"How come?"

"Because you're Life… you can't kill life itself, it only cycles out… over and over again." Hastur smiled sadly.

"But I'm not Life." Kenny furrowed his eyebrows. "You are."

He stared at his hands and balled them into fists. He trembled and glanced up at Hastur, who was watching him with flashing yellow eyes.

"But I can die. I'm not immortal, you are."

"Everything must come to an end. But that doesn't mean there aren't new beginnings. You are Life and Leopold is Death, without one you can't have the other. You've been told of your connection through time. You yourself are young, you are a child, but your soul is endless."

Kenny blinked.

"…huh?"

"You and your friends didn't come together by coincidence. There are bonds that draw you together, you were all meant to be together, as you are in every life."

"Why?"

"You can't have Life without Death, or Fate without Destiny. You can't have Hate without Love, or Chaos without Peace… things are just meant to be."

"You're telling me that me and my friend personify words?" Hastur smirked.

"I'm telling you that you and your friends personify humanity."

"Huh?"

"Humanity depends on you all, and always has."

"But… why? Why not just have angels or demons or… or… animals personify these things?"

"Because there needs to be an understanding of human nature."

"So, who are my friends… in the grand scheme of things?"

"As I've said you are Life and Leopold is Death, bonded by your dependency of one another- to create and destroy. Stanley is Fate and Kyle is Destiny, one you have no control of and the other is what you are meant to do, positive and negative. This gives life a sense of purpose, a meaning. Those two are also bonded for the same reason. Craig is Love and Tweek is Hate-"

"Wait, don't you have that flipped around?" Hastur shook his head. "But… Tweek is incapable of hating anything and Craig is-"

"There are other kinds of love and hate. Resentment, jealousy, humiliation, those feelings can fester for years. And love doesn't have to be a romantic love. The love you feel for your sister is still love but you don't have romantic feelings for her."

"I guess he does love Stripe…"

"Eric is Chaos and Wendy is Peace. Bonds also do not have to be romantic love. They can hate each other."

"But they're dating." Hastur just smiled. "So all of us… we're bonded by these connections to help humanity. But… what's in it for us? Like, what's the point?"

"Humanity."

"After I die will I see them again?"

"Your journey won't be over yet."

"Will I know them?"

"Do you remember your past lives?" Kenny grimaced. "Subconsciously you will know."

"I don't want them to miss me. Or forget me."

"I don't think that's possible."

Kenny bowed his head. He had heard enough. He knew what he needed to do and what must be done to save humanity… and his friends. His sacrifice would guarantee they would be safe with one another, and they would move on. They would be fine without him in the end. Besides, Life would have to move on to the next in order to continue the cycle.

"How much time do I have left?"

"The next new moon. Three weeks."

Three weeks to say goodbye, to enjoy the presence of those he loved. Three weeks to hold Butters close and reassure him the best he could that everything would be okay. And everything would be… things would go back to normal after Cthylla. It was worth it; he was sure of that. He would give his life to guarantee the happiness of his friends, his siblings, and his apparent soul mate.

But how could he go back home, knowing the hourglass was almost empty? He had so much he needed to do in such little time. How could he look at his friends, laugh with them, or kiss Butters knowing that in three weeks' time that kiss would bring him to his demise?

It would be difficult. But it was necessary.

"I want to go home," Kenny said to Hastur.

"The next time we meet will be the last."

"I know."

Hastur placed his hand on Kenny's forehead and a searing pain throbbed in his temples. Kenny squeezed his eyes shut; the pressure felt enough to blow his brains throughout the abyss that surrounded them.

And suddenly he could breathe. Kenny's eyes opened and focused on the night sky above; the stars twinkled, burning bright above as they died before his very eyes. The sound of water rippling brought him to his senses; the blond sat up slowly and stared at the bank of Stark's Pond.

His body wracked with frozen tremors; he had just washed up on the rocky shore.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck it's fucking cold," he heard a familiar voice and his eyes focused on the tall figure that had also surfaced from the water. "What the fuck are you thinking?"

Kenny stared at Craig, who outstretched his hand, a piece of algae hung off his nearly luminescent arm.

"What are you doing here?" Kenny asked, standing on shaky legs.

"Saving your dumb ass." Was the grumble he received, then Craig, with his eyes wide in slight surprise, lifted Kenny's bangs from his forehead as if that would prove his identity. "It's been months, what are you thinking?"

"I just… got back," Kenny and Craig leaned against one another, both weak and aching from the frozen water. Kenny could smell flowers in the night air; he had been gone a long time, alright. "It's May, right?" Craig nodded.

"Jesus, you aren't joking, are you?" the normally stoic boy asked. He sat on the bench and wriggled into his jacket, offering his long sleeved shirt to Kenny. "I'm wearing the pants."

"I can't walk home naked."

"I have my car, you dumbfuck. Butters is going to lose his shit. I'm losing my shit." Kenny snorted, and shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself. "What took you so long?"

Kenny had missed out on Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, his birthday… he was stuck in a void all to find out he had three weeks left to live. He couldn't wrap his head around it.

All he wanted was to go home and hold Butters close.

"I… don't know," Kenny murmured, curling up in the passenger seat, with glazed eyes staring out the window. Craig started his car and pulled out of the makeshift parking lot; the gravel crunched beneath the tires as they sped down the highway, passed the town. "What's all happened while I was gone?"

"A lot," Craig replied, "it might be best to talk to Butters about everything." But Kenny wasn't quite sure how he could carry on a conversation with him, all the while keeping the biggest secret tucked away, despite wanting to scream it at the top of his lungs to all that would listen. It didn't seem fair.

"Has… has anyone tried to stop all this shit?" Craig nodded.

"It didn't work though." Kenny felt his shoulders relax. "As soon as I graduate I'm getting the fuck out of here. I can't take this shit anymore. It's always you guys, y'know?" Kenny nodded.

"It'll be over soon, don't worry." Craig eyed him.

"You sound sure of yourself." Kenny grimaced and rubbed his wrist. Sure of himself? No, not at all. But he knew what he had to do. It was up to him to stop this madness. It was his destiny.

"Craig, can I ask you something?" The raven-haired boy nodded slowly, his eyes calculating the weight of his words. "If anything happens to me can you make sure Karen and Butters are okay?"

"Nothing's going to happen to you." Kenny smiled sadly and fought to keep from saying any more. Although he trusted Craig not to tell anyone else he didn't want any of his friends to carry the weight of his death with them.

"But if it does, will you?" Craig nodded.

"It's not like they don't have people."

"But I'm asking you," he was asking the Love inside of him to watch over the people he care about most. "Not them. Please?" Craig sighed heavily and turned up the heat. Kenny was silently thankful; his hands and feet were completely numb.

"I… guess."

"Thank you."

"But nothing's gonna happen," Kenny wasn't sure if it was to reassure him, or if Craig was trying to reassure himself. The apathetic façade had crumbled slightly; a furrow of worry etched in his brow and his eyes stared straight ahead, glassy.

They remained silent for the rest of the ride; Craig was probably trying to get over the shock that he was back. That once again Kenny proved to not be joking about his immortality, or Hastur's curse. Kenny was trying to muster up the courage to see Butters; all he wanted to do was run.

There was a light on in his house (was it his house anymore?), in the upstairs room. Just then Kenny remembered that Karen had been taken… that Butters had been left alone in this house, in desolation, for months.

"Let me talk to him first," Craig offered. Kenny nodded; that was probably the best idea.

Craig left the car running as he walked up the sidewalk. Kenny saw a silhouette move on the curtain, and he held his breath as he saw Butters peer out the window to see who had just disturbed his night.

He vanished, just like that, and within seconds he was on the front porch.

Kenny's heart fell as he saw the state he was in. His hair was a greasy, sleep-mussed mop on his head, his cheeks were sallow, and his figure appeared wispy, skeletal. His arms were just as gaunt as his face.

Craig pointed to the car, and Butters' eyes followed. The skeptical glare had softened as he caught sight of him, sitting curled up in the passenger seat.

"Kenny?" He could see Butters' mouth form his name.

Kenny couldn't wait anymore. He opened the door and tugged at the shirt, trying his best to cover himself. It didn't matter much, as it was Butters, and all he wanted to do was apologize for doing this to him. He wanted to reassure him that everything would be okay, and that he was here, and that he'd never leave him again.

But that would be false.

"Kenny?!" Butters' shocked voice sounded hoarse, as if he hadn't spoken for a while.

He wasn't sure whether to laugh, or smile, or cry as Butters charged toward him faster than he had ever seen him move. In an instant, arms were around him and tears stained his shirt as Butters sobbed into his chest, clinging tight as if his grasp would keep Kenny here forever.

"It's me, Lee," Kenny reassured, his arms wound around Butters' thin back. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head and held him protectively, wishing he never had to let go. "I'm here."

"O-o-oh my God," Butters gasped, his voice muffled by Kenny's shirt. "They said you weren't c-coming back…"

"They don't know me well enough, Buttercup." A whimper was the only response Butters could give him.

"Don't do this to me again," Butters begged. Kenny bit his lip, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze.

"I'll make sure the last time I die it'll be for good, okay?" Butters nodded; his mind assuming they would have years upon years to live out the happy life both of them had endlessly dreamed about.

Finally, the smaller blond pulled away from him and, still clutching his hand, he dragged him inside. Craig stood on the front porch, and only followed after Butters told him to.

"Lee, I'm gonna get some clothes on and I'll be right back okay?" Butters nodded and loosened his grip. Kenny vanished from sight and finally Butters could breathe.

His low eyes turned to Craig, who had his arms wrapped around himself. A thousand thoughts were running through Butters' mind but all he could think about was the person right in front of him.

When Kenny returned, with an extra shirt for Craig, he found that he and Butters were alone. There was a pink tint to the smaller blond's cheeks and his eyes were wet as his gaze fell on Kenny, who stood at the stairs.

"It's really you," the voice was quiet and vulnerable, like the voice of a child rearing to face disappointment. "I'm not going crazy."

Kenny shook his head.

"I'm here," he responded, gripping Butters by the shoulder and pulled him into another tight hug. Kenny could smell him, the slight hint of vanilla and spice and what was so distinctly Butters. He was home.

"You're telling me that you can't die again?" Butters asked, his eyes wide, hand clenching tightly to Kenny's. The darker blond nodded and sighed heavily. This is the only way he could tell him. He wasn't lying, he wasn't trying to give false hope. He just couldn't warn him how little time he had left. A smile began to grow on Butters' face. "So the curse is broken?!"

"In… a way," Kenny mumbled, his thumb caressed the back of his boyfriend's hand delicately, reassuringly. The voice in the back of his head was screaming at him; Hastur would have his revenge.

Butters grinned and squeezed him in a loving embrace. Finally, finally their lips connected in a tender kiss, with hindered fervor so as to not step any boundaries. Butters was apprehensive. Butters didn't trust him completely. Kenny could feel it in the slight brush of his lips, and the swipe of his tongue. He wasn't ready.

After such a long time away how could he be ready? How could he be trusting, especially to hear the news that the one thing that would keep them separated had been taken care of? Only that wasn't the case, but that's what Butters thought.

"What about Hastur? And Cthulhu?" Kenny bowed his head in the crook of Butters shoulder and pressed a delicate kiss to his skin. He smelled like home. He smelled like life, despite being Death. His scent was the only thing keeping him sane; and perhaps that's why they balanced each other out so well, being Life and Death.

"It'll be taken care of."

Butters pulled away and eyed Kenny cautiously. He didn't like the sound of that. His gaze was calculating as he looked at his boyfriend, who looked tired, who was weak and shaking despite being back, alive for hours. Something was wrong.

Something Kenny wouldn't tell him.

"So you're telling me we now have seventy years together?" Butters asked, feigning excitement. His eyes watched Kenny's reaction; his dejected sigh, his lowered eyes. His overall lack of excitement.

If Kenny had been rid of the curse that would have been the first thing he would have told him. If he was no longer cursed, and able to live freely, he would have been jumping around the house ecstatically. And although there were issues with being framed as Mysterion, that was something they could work with over time. They would work on clearing his name… somehow.

Kenny hadn't disappeared that night, after being arrested, to be told he was no longer cursed.

In fact, by the way Kenny looked, he was about two seconds from crying.

But Butters wouldn't question him, not outright. No, he would ask the right questions and play along. There was something wrong with Kenny, something he would have to talk to Craig and Cartman about. Perhaps the goth kids, to see if they could detect any change on him. Especially Firkle. Kenny didn't come back the Kenny they all knew.

Butters wondered if Craig noticed anything different about him. He'd make sure to ask him tomorrow.

"We could," Kenny finally answered, a sad smile plastered on his face. Butters could see right through it, and Kenny felt his eyes, piercing, attempting to rip apart his façade and read his thoughts. His eyes weren't bright, happy Butters, but cold.

Kenny squeezed his hand.

"You're saying we can travel the world, for years, get married, have kids, have our family and see our grandchildren grow up?" Kenny's eyes looked to the ceiling. His failsafe from crying.

"We could," his voice did not shake. His eyes were in agony.

"We can die together, when we're ninety and ready to go, holding each other's' hands?" Butters asked; that's how he always envisioned he'd go with Kenny, if he had a choice.

"We-"

"We could," Butters interrupted, knowing his answer. "But you're not making any promises, Kenneth. I'm not fucking stupid," despite the tremble in his lower lip tears did not fall from Kenny's eyes. His frigid hand squeezed tighter to Butters', so tight that he started to lose circulation.

"I love you," Kenny whispered, his eyes focused on the ceiling, his breathing hitched and deep.

"And I you," Butters replied, "but… you… you can't just come here and act like nothing has changed, Kenny. They almost put me in the crazy home. Kyle nearly died, Karen is hardly ever seen from anyone, and Stan has been trying his best to pick up the pieces. But…"

"I'm sorry." He looked as if he was holding back on saying more.

The weight seemed to crush his vocal chords. Kenny struggled to breathe. Hastur was waging his revenge as they sat there; he was showing Kenny, his vessel, just what he was capable of. And Kenny wasn't going to fall to his manipulation or torture.

"I'm going to figure out what's going on," Butters told him, smiling a little to show that he wasn't that upset. Of course, he was hurt, he was feeling so many things and he wasn't quite sure how to handle it. Mostly he was numb at the moment; he knew he was experiencing some kind of shock.

"You smell like R'lyeh," Kenny whispered, his teeth grazed Butters neck.

That's what it was. He smelled like home.

R'lyeh.

Butters had been there too.

An alarm went off in the back of Kenny's head. Just how much did he know? And how had he gotten there?

Kenny smirked. He had the upperhand now.

"Something happened there, didn't it?" Butters asked, "you found out something… something you won't say. You're hiding something from me." That's why Butters was so quick. "I'm going to figure it out."

"I can't."

Butters eyes brightened, almost maniacally.

"You're hiding something because you can't say." Kenny couldn't move his head to acknowledge his answer. "We'll get it out of you. We've got this, Kenny. We're going to save you, yet."

Kenny rested his head on Butters' shoulder. They were far too late.

"Let's… switch to something else, okay? You're not looking well, let me get you something. You hungry? Thirsty?" Kenny shook his head.

Eat. Deep in the crevices of his mind, a voice commanded him.

Kenny's body was in control by Hastur. Of course he wasn't hungry.

"Well, fuck you anyway," Butters teased, then vanished into the kitchen. He returned a couple of minutes later with two slices of toast and some milk. Kenny always loved milk.

He could smell it; it made his stomach churn.

Heightened senses? Kenny grimaced.

"Eat," Butters echoed Hastur, and with the command, he nibbled on the crust of the toast.

"There isn't much to fill in. Except… tomorrow's graduation." Kenny's face fell, although it didn't quite matter. He was expelled, he was most likely declared a fugitive on the run; through all the hard work he put in, he wasn't even going to be able to pursue anything.

He'd have to make sure to withdraw his application from CSU: Boulder in the next week.

Graduating didn't matter anyway, especially when he was going to die in three weeks. He wasted his time, so much time.

But this was to make sure that his friends and family had more time to waste. It was worth it.

"That's great, I'm proud of y'all," Kenny mumbled, "even Kyle?" Butters nodded. "How is he?"

"He's… healing. Not supposed to walk for a few more weeks so he's in a wheelchair. He hates it." Kenny chuckled.

"I'm glad he's okay."

"Ken… they know." Butters mumbled, his eyes flickered to Kenny, who wore a look of tired confusion on his face. "About your immortality. About Hastur. Stan helped the goth kids a couple of weeks ago… I nearly died, we tried saving you but. It didn't-"

Kenny blanched.

"W-wait…"

Was he supposed to be excited that his friends believed that he finally died countless times throughout their childhood? That he was immortal and he wasn't crazy for saying such things? Or was he supposed to be angry that they risked everything to save him? Or… angry that they failed?

That was probably his last chance at life.

But his prayers since he was a small boy had been answered; his friends believed him. His friends knew the truth. And that almost made up for the fact that he was going to die in three weeks.

"They know?" He asked tentatively, and felt his spirits lift as Butters nodded energetically.

"Stan first, he helped convince Kyle. Kyle was sick enough to basically believe anything. My only concern is… since you're back… if they'll forget. Ah well, we'll find out tomorrow." Kenny furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm not graduating, Lee," he responded. With a sad groan, Butters nodded.

"Yeah, I know. But you deserve a party too. I mean…" he trailed off; Kenny didn't need him to finish what he was saying. Kenny was currently wanted as Mysterion. If he showed his face in public then he would be arrested… again.

He couldn't watch his friends graduate. And he couldn't attend their parties. There was no point in trying to disguise himself either; with his height and gaunt features he would automatically be recognizable no matter what he tried.

"I just want time with you," he mumbled, "I don't care about a party. I hardly got through high school, anyway," he chuckled.

But he had tried, dammit he had tried. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't sting to just be forced to give up.

"We'll figure out something," Butters reassured, then leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.