Kyle rode on the back of the snowmobile clinging onto Bebe. He shivered as she drove through the snowy forest, trying not to let her long curly blonde hair whip him in the face. He touched the side of his head. Bebe had cut his hair into a fine buzz cut to try and disguise his looks when he entered the controlled zone.
He was dressed in a blue checkered shirt and jeans. He 'borrowed' some of Randy Marsh's old clothes. A thick jacket and blue cap over his head complemented the outfit. Bebe's razor had slipped when she was cutting his hair. A thump from upstairs had startled her. Stan managed to drag himself out of bed and was crawling across the floor towards the window. They had quickly gotten him back into bed and sedated again. Kyle tied Stan to the bed hoping his troublesome friend would just stay put and heal. But medication and supplies were running low, everyone was counting on him.
Bebe parked snowmobile outside the woods. "It's up to you to get in. I don't want them to see me. If you get caught they won't be lenient. Especially if they know you once had superpowers."
Kyle carefully got off the snowmobile and wrapped his coat around himself to shake off some of the cold. "I don't have powers anymore, won't make a difference anyway. Human Kite is dead. Kyle Broflovski might as well be dead at this point. I'm Alexander Keats."
"Yeah I know. Good luck… Alex." Bebe looks down now, a slight red at her cheeks. "I can't help but worry how you'll fare in the so-called controlled zone. Just hope to see you come back alive. Even better with supplies, just take care of yourself. If it's too dangerous just come back."
"What color car do you want?" Kyle asks, brushing off her concern.
"That doesn't matter. I won't judge you if you don't want to stay there. I hate going there." Bebe keeps looking down as she talks.
"I'll be fine. What kind of car do you want?" Kyle repeats.
"Red is my favorite." Bebe brushes her hair back as her eyes finally meet his.
Kyle can't help but smile. "I should've known. Get back to Stan already. Someone needs to babysit him." They exchanged a quick hug before Bebe hopped back onto the snowmobile. She sped off through the woods and to be the caretaker of Tegirty Farms and the injured until he came back.
If he came back.
When Bebe was fully out of sight, Kyle put his hand around the little plastic holder in his pocket holding the ID they had faked. His alias was Alexander Keats. He found it in an old internet document when trying to look for info. Alexander meant defender of humankind and Keats meaning kite. Maybe his old superhero persona wasn't as dead as he thought. Or maybe it would paint a target on his back as he tried to go into the city for desperately needed supplies and…what else? Answers? See how non-heroes lived? Why Bebe refused to go in the city unless absolutely necessary?
Kyle kept his head down against the bitter wind as he got in line to be let into the controlled zone. God he hoped this worked, Stan desperately needed medication and treatment and the rest needed to try and survive until they figured out what they were going to do next.
The line inched forward as Kyle looked up at the guard. He was a scrawny kid, maybe twelve or thirteen. His young face set in a permanent scowl. "What is your business in the controlled zone?" The kid piped up.
"Passing through, need work." Kyle said as he rummaged in his pocket for his fake ID and paperwork.
The kid guard looked over the paperwork, his eyebrows furrowed. "You look old, why are you coming here now?"
Kyle took a deep breath, practicing his well rehearsed lie. "I'm from Wyoming, had to get away to try and find a better place to take care of myself. I'm here to find a job."
The guard looked at Kyle, eyes narrowed before he nodded curtly. "Gotta pat you down before you enter."
Kyle sighed as he held out his arms for the kid. He wondered how if things were normal what would this kid be doing? Just hanging out with his friends and fucking around like Kyle got to experience before the world ended? He felt sympathy for this guard even if his hands were rough as he patted Kyle down for contraband.
"You're clean." The guard said as he handed back the identification papers. "Go into the town square and apply for work there." The kid shoved Kyle forward before he went to check the next person in line.
Kyle was thrown into what had become Middle Park since the apocalypse. The suburb that had been their town's rivals in high school sports now had fallen into disrepair. It was a vast spread of cookie cutter houses with groups of stripmalls in between. The houses were rundown, debris and overgrown plants poked out from under the snow. Kids and teens peered out from windows or walked along the sidewalks. Kyle hoped he wouldn't be recognized, or worse, jumped or mugged.
The kids had the same hardened expressions that the guard had, most of them thin and disheveled. There hadn't been joy in Middle Park for a long time.
Kyle passed a row of run down buildings and into the Middle Park town square. The sad looking official buildings loomed in front of him. "Okay, you can do this…Alex." Kyle muttered to himself as he made his way up the steps to the employment office of Middle Park.
It was shocking to think that even though the world had almost ended, bureaucracy still remained. Kyle thought it was stupid that this is what the Middle Park kids clung to, even if he knew his own friends clung to their old stuff. Like Stan's emo music or Kenny's porn magazines.
Kyle signed in with his alias and waited to be called. He could see a girl checking people in, she couldn't have been any older than twelve but already working in this soulless place, her expression sour.
"Alexander Keats?" The girl called out as Kyle got up to go sit at her desk.
"Yes, I would like to apply for employment in this city." Kyle said, trying to keep his face set as to not arouse suspicion.
The little girl took hold of his ID paperwork. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
"Why haven't you applied already?" The girl asked, making a few notes on some paperwork.
"I'm from out of state. Passing through and needing something to support myself." Kyle gave a faint smile, hoping this girl would just go easy on him.
"Most people work as soon as they're able to. First choice is guard duty, we always need you bigger ones for that work." The girl put a mark down before Kyle could stop her.
"I want to work in the hospital. I always had a passion for helping others and even wanted to be a doctor when I was younger." Kyle stated. Honestly he couldn't remember what he wanted to be when he grew up, superhero was certainly never something he could even dream of. But with all the crazy shit that happened to him as a kid, anything was possible. But now he needed easy access to medical supplies.
The girl put down her pen and folded her hands on the desk. "You don't get a choice. Why would you even ask what you might like to do? I never got a choice. I never even got to enjoy my childhood, I was six when the virus took my parents. Shipped off to live in the old elementary school with other orphans. My saving grace was they had us living in Middle Park Elementary. I taught myself to read with what books were left behind. I was one of the few who taught myself to read, it was my escape. Since I could read they put me here to help process paperwork."
"Jesus…I'm sorry. I know it's hard-" Kyle started.
The girl shakes her head. "Not ideal but it's something. I can also find books to read at the old abandoned library. Wish I could work in a library but that kind of stuff isn't needed. This is needed." She gestures to piles and piles of paperwork around her.
Kyle crosses his arms. "Fine, I'll take what I can get." The library might have useful stuff, if he could get access to it without getting caught.
The girl looks down a list. "Openings in the prison for a guard. You wouldn't be a doctor but play your cards right and maybe you can guard the infirmary."
Kyle hoped he wasn't showing his excitement. Depending on what the prison kept on hand, Kyle could probably slip medical supplies and maybe other things needed for his friend's care.
He blinked back into focus as the girl talked a mile a minute about his work assignment, shoving paperwork in his hand. "Your living quarters will be on the south side. A quick walk to the prison. You're lucky to have it that close, don't fuck it up." She told him sharply.
Kyle looked at the thick folder of paperwork the girl was handing to him as well as keys to his new living quarters, directions where to get his uniform as well as other places he was allowed to go. Kyle prided himself on being smart but the directions this girl was rattling off felt way too over-complicated and stupid.
"Last of all, if you find anyone showing symptoms, report them immediately." The girl finished up.
Kyle stares at her. "Symptoms? Of Covid?"
"No, of super powers. They're a danger to society and we need to control them. No one with powers dare not step foot in here, but you're a newcomer. Figures you wouldn't know, Alex." The girl goes on.
Kyle nodded stiffly before he was allowed to leave the stifling building. He stood on the steps of the employment building, taking a few deep breaths as his surroundings came into focus. He felt all the eyes of the kids passing by were on him. Behind him were wanted posters of his friends. Most of them are marked with heavy red paint. Slain. Apprehended. Unknown. Kyle walked down the sidewalk, seeing more of the propaganda signs. Superpowers are dangerous. Superheros are the enemy. Anyone caught using superpowers will be apprehended immediately.
Kyle reached into his pocket and slipped a mask over his face. Things were bad in Middle Park, and he threw himself right into it. Even if he didn't have super powers anymore.
His walk continued, until he found himself in front of a series of row houses next to a large dark building surrounded by a barbed wire fence. Kyle looked down at the papers in his hand, the address was right, this is where he was supposed to stay. He caught sight of a wanted poster, the snow had melted some of the ink but he could make out the familiar faces of the Coon and Friends with promises of a big reward if captured. Did the people out here even know that over half of them were dead and most of the remainder were wounded and dying?
Kyle shook his head, anxiety rising in his stomach. He didn't want to think about what they would do if caught, even if his powers were gone. His racing thoughts were interrupted as a car zoomed by on the street, splashing ice cold water over Kyle.
"Hey, what the fuck?" Kyle called out as he was splattered with muddy melted snow. A cherry red sports car zipped down the road, a bright interruption against the dreary and drab surroundings as it raced through the gates of the prison. Kyle wiped the slush and snow from his coat. Maybe he would have the opportunity to steal more than medicine from the prison.
Tweek sat on his cot, knees curled to his chest and shivering. He was used to his various twitches and tics, but this cold he couldn't shake. He looked down at hands, his fingertips almost tinged blue, sticking out of the long sleeves of his standard issue gray prison uniform. Damn thing was itchy, so was the plain blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He rubbed his arms and scratched at his skin trying to get some hint of warmth and relief.
"Nnnnn." Tweek shuddered. "I'd kill for a comforter, or a heater, or actual good coffee-nnn." He shivered as he sank down lower onto his bed.
Suddenly the little window to his cell popped open. Was it dinner time already? Tweek could see something flat and sealed in plastic deposited into his cell. He got up slowly to pull the item towards him. It's a sterilized thick comforter, pillow and navy blue blanket. He rips open the package and sees there's also a pair of thicker sweatpants and a sweater. Tweek shivers as he slips on the warm clothes over his prison uniform and wraps the blankets around himself. He dared not change his clothes if he was being watched. Oh god who was watching him?
"Hello?" Tweek called to the mirror. "Whoever you are, why are you doing this to me?"
The room stayed silent, not that Tweek was expecting an answer. He rubbed his tired eyes, he was used to staying up for hours on end and he can't remember the last time he had a good night's sleep. No, it was when he was next to Craig. It was one of the few sweet times he felt safe and not a fuck up was in his boyfriend's arms.
He thought back to the lab and what he had felt when they experimented on him. He got up slowly with the thick comforter wrapped around him and went right up to the mirror. He looked at his reflection, he was pale and thin, dark circles under his eyes, lips chapped and red. He hadn't slept in days. He touched his fingers to the glass and tried to not let the cold surface bother him.
"Who are you? Do I know you?" Tweek asked whoever was on the other side of the mirror.
Silence. Not like he was expecting an answer. With everyone dead, whoever was tasked with watching him had to be someone from his past.
The window fogged up and some backwards letters appeared. Y-E-S the fog quickly faded away as Tweek let out a little shout.
"Who are you? Tell me, please." Tweek's hand touched the glass before he started to hit it. The person from behind the glass didn't offer any more hints.
Tweek fell back, clutching his hand. It was so cold but now bright red from his outburst. The glass remained smooth and offered no comfort.
"Two way glass." Tweek whispered. "Hey…where would I know you from? Why are you doing this?" He smacks the mirror again even if it hurt his frozen palm.
No response. Tweek's hopelessness turns to anger as he called forth his powers. Static crackles in the air as his hair stands on end and he tries to muster up his wind or ice powers. He tried his damndest and a snowball started to form in his hands. Concentrating he wanted to make the snow turn colder and sharp, some kind of weapon to smash everything around him.
His hands tightened around the snowball but he felt himself growing weak, faint even as the snowball turned to so much powder falling down his prison uniform and onto the floor. Tweek sank down among the snow he had created, it disintegrated and melted along with any shreds left of his hope.
Stan opened his eyes once again and looked at the ceiling. The sun through the window left a golden trail across his old bedroom, landing over on an old tv in the corner.
His head swam as he tried to lift his head. His body was numb from the waist down and his eyes settled to realize there was nothing below the knee on his body. He let out a high, choked sound, not sure if this was part of the horrible dreams he was having or reality. Horrible monsters, one resembling his best friend kept holding him down and sticking him with needles. Stan's eyes shifted to his arm firmly taped in place by duct tape, needle marks in his wrist.
Stan turned over what was real or not, they kept him so groggy and drugged it was hard to tell. Then the realization hit him straight to the heart. He didn't just lose his legs, but Wendy had been killed in the wreckage. Another loss, probably worse than losing his legs, he lost his heart.
He groaned in pain again in an attempt to sit up, but whatever drugs they were giving him kept him numb and groggy, too weak to fight back against this waking hell. He curled his hand around a scrap of silky pink fabric, what was left of her. Stan thought hard as he pinched the mask in between his fingers. Wendy was gone, and took so much with her.
Even through his medicated haze, little bits of memories were poking out, remnants of his superpowers. It was the same bed he was duct taped to in his childhood home. But he could call forth his powers to make the tools in the house rattle and come forth. He tried to get his father's power tools until they were locked away but Stan could feel them out in the barn. His mother's cooking tools were in the kitchen, he even tried to use her old knife on himself in a weak moment. Those too, were locked away.
Bebe and Kyle did a number when he tried to escape. He meant to just fall out of bed and drag himself out the window, but they heard his fall from downstairs and came rushing in, Kyle angry and Bebe crying. It reminded him of his parents. Stan blinked his eyes at his arms and chest duct taped to the bed. He could blurrily see medicine vials on the side table along with a syringe. Why were Kyle and Bebe drugging him? Why not just let him die? He looked down at his missing legs again, knowing in the times they were living in, not being able to walk would make him more of a target.
Stan took a deep breath to try and wriggle out of the restraints but couldn't, his body was too weak. He tried to pull his mental command to help him but got no answer, save for the scrap of fabric from Wendy's costume.
That was the worst part, Stan would learn to live with no legs, but no Wendy…there wasn't a point. He looked at the pink mask again. "What am I supposed to do without you?" Stan asked the empty room. He looked at his reflection in the dark tv. She would be missed, not just by him but her presence had helped so much in this cruel world. She brought technology back to South Park and a bit of normalcy back to everyone. Now that she was dead, communication had been shut down.
Stan looked at his broken body in the reflection of the tv. His legs stumps and were sure to cause him horrible pain when the medication wore off. Why hadn't Kyle just let him die? Surely Wendy had made a bigger impact on the world than he did.
"It should've been me." Stan whispered. The TV started up in front of him, making Stan jump from his tied up position as a shock of pain went through his legs.
"I'm sorry, Wendy." Stan said once again. The TV came to life then, the screen showing nothing but static but on silent. Stan looked around for a remote, maybe he accidentally sat on it in his escape attempt. He felt a white hot energy, his legs throbbed in pain, his head ached and his chest and stomach hurt. He felt sick to his stomach and did not want to throw up while strapped down to a bed. His hand tightened around Wendy's mask and the TV flipped channels. His old phone lit up playing music. The old computer in the corner booted up.
"Wendy?" Stan squeaked out. This kind of shit with the TV turning on would be Wendy's powers at work. Stan tried to lift his head to see if anything else could be turned on. He heard the radio in Shelly's old room go off and the TV in his parents' old room turn on. The sound of static was deafening and Stan felt a surge of power as the TV flew forward and crashed to the floor. Silence, other than Stan's panicked breathing.
Kyle shook himself off as he entered the house he was assigned to. The inside of the row house was plain and utilitarian. Seemed they got the furniture from a school. Two boys sat around the dining room table playing a game of cards.
"This is boring…we should break out the D&D." The younger kid said.
"Nah…you get really into it and we have work tonight." The older kid sighs. "We always have work."
"Come on, it's all I have going for me." The boy grumbles before he takes notice of Kyle hanging around the door. "New guy is here."
"Hey dude." The tall boy gets up to shake a hand. "I'm Asher, I'm in charge of the boarding house."
Kyle forced a smile and held out a cold hand. "Hey I'm Alex."
Asher shook his hand gingerly back. "Hate to say it but you look like a drowned rat. I'll show you to your room and get you a change of clothes. Don't need more sick people."
"Mmmm rats." The shorter boy said from the table. "Once you're dried off we can get you a character sheet for D&D."
"God no one cares, Nicky." Asher said, frowning at his roommate.
Kyle shivers, wet down to the bone. "Maybe I'll play later. Right now I can't wait to take a hot shower."
Both boys look at him strangely. "We don't have shower. Where have you been that had a working shower?" Ash asks quizzically.
Kyle felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "I- in my farm, back in Wyoming. How you do bathe around here?"
Nicky smirks. "Bucket of melted snow after heating it up on the stove. Rainwater if you're lucky."
Kyle nods, wanting to not give himself away to the vast water supply back in South Park. He follows Ash down a long narrow hallway to a small room. There was a dresser, twin bed with plain blankets, Kyle feeling bad at how low rent this place was and how his roommates were used to it. Asher pulled open the drawer to stuff a rough worn jumpsuit along with socks and shoes and placed them on the simple quilt on the bed. "Lunch is at noon and work starts at ten pm tonight." Ash said.
Kyle gives him a look. "We're going to have to work nights?"
"Yeah, farm boy. All the newbies start on nights. Pretty easy but if you do well the prison will give you a day shift." Ash pulls out a bucket. "You can grab some snow and heat it up on the stove to get some kind of bath." He shoves the bucket into Kyle's hand.
Kyle tries to smile. "Uh I guess. Thanks, dude. Maybe I will play dungeons and dragons with you guys later."
Ash rolls his eyes. "Sleep would be better, but games are the only entertainment we got around here. Wish we had TV or phones." He grabs a few pillows and blankets from the closet. "I'll leave you be then. We'll call you for dinner and work."
The door slammed behind him and Kyle sat down on his new bed. He shivered before he got to work to give himself the makeshift bath. He couldn't afford to get sick now.
Bebe entered the old farm house, nervous for what she would come home to. The kitchen utensils were stuck to the back of the kitchen door and the old downstairs TV was on, static blaring loudly through the house. She quickly shut off the downstairs TV and radio. Dreading what was happening upstairs.
She gently opened up the door, slightly relieved Stan was still in bed, his eyes focused on the TV on the floor. Glassy in the dim light. "Stan? You okay?" Bebe called out cautiously.
Stan's eyes moved to her as he let out a little sigh. "Oh Bebe, hey. I was just trying to talk to Wendy."
Bebe was immediately at his side, worried the pain or medication had made him delusional, or he was on death's door. She thought of Kenny and Clyde also in bad shape, feeling overwhelmed like a battlefield nurse. "Stan." She touched his cheek, his temperature felt normal. "Wendy….died." Tears sprang in her eyes as she went to put the TV back on the dresser.
Stan frowned. "I know that…I just think. She's trying to come back. Somehow. Stan nodded to the TV and pushed whatever power forward to turn it on and off. The computer and radio came on as well, but all loud static.
Bebe clapped her hands over her ears as she unplugged the tv. "Stan, you have to stop this, now."
"I'm not doing it, Wendy is." Stan moved two fingers up from where he has been tied to the bed, the scrap of pink fabric in between them. "I think Wendy is doing this. I can mess with the electronics when I think about her. Like she's coming through somehow."
Bebe furiously wipes the tears forming in her eyes. "It's hard on me too that Wendy is gone. I don't want you to go crazy over it. I can't lose more people."
"She has to be out there, alive. How else would all the electronics be responding to me? Maybe she's not dead…maybe Kyle made a mistake. Please, I can't live in a world without her. She did so much more for the world than I ever did."
"Stan…" Bebe says defeated. "It's the world we live in now. Haves and have nots. You and Wendy helped us out because you have superpowers. You rebuilt buildings and she rebuilt communication. You're both very important to the world. Moreso than what I could give."
"It should've been me." Stan repeats again. Bebe sighs, trying to think of what she should say next that wouldn't upset either of them. She figured it was time to give Stan his sleepy time juice once again and worry about him later.
The TV and computer in the room across the hall came to life and the noise of the static is deafening. Bebe looks at Stan, hoping he won't try and get out of bed as she crosses the hall over to where Clyde and Kenny were laying. Bebe never wanted to be a doctor in her wildest dreams but she referred to this room as the ICU, but at this point it was probably hospice.
She entered the room to shut off the TV and computer, not expecting a stir or response for either of her patients. Clyde lay on the bed, his head turned to the side. Kenny was off on an air mattress, also in a deep state of unconsciousness. Clyde lips looked dry but his chest kept rising up and down, stubborn fucker wasn't giving up. This afforded Bebe a rare bit of relief for a day like today.
She turned her attention to Kenny, her stomach dropped. Blood was pooling out of his ear and nose and he was white as a sheet. Bebe kneeled next to him and ran her fingers through his blonde hair, his skin was cold…too cold. She picked him up, holding him close. No one should die alone. She sniffed thinking of Wendy, of all her superhero friends in their last moments. "I'm sorry Kenny, sorry Wendy, I'm sorry everyone. I wish I could do more."
Bebe held Kenny close, knowing the end was near. His head was right against her chest and not a reaction. He could hear the tap of her heart in his ear as his own pulse slowed down to nothing. He let out one last gasp of breath and went still in Bebe's arms. She let out a sob and hugged Kenny, knowing he was gone. That Wendy was gone. That half of her friend group was now cold, dead and gone forever. She wanted to scream, but not startle Stan in the next room. Or that he would try something funny again. Or Clyde sitting in the bed a few feet from her would also succumb to his injuries. She would be the only one left alone in the house.
She carefully laid Kenny down. Closing his eyes gently, even if it was a foolish and futile gesture. This whole thing was futile. She got up and walked down the hall quickly. She passed Stan's room and saw him staring at the TV, hardly blinking. Did she forget to shut it off again? Or was his grief now letting him control electronics?
She moved past him into the master bedroom and shut the door quietly with a click. Kyle let her have this room, she could have privacy and he would sleep on the couch downstairs. Bebe pressed her back to the wall, letting her tears flow as she felt her legs shake. This was it, things could only get worse from here. She pulled open a side drawer to find a bag of weed along with rolling papers. She might as well toast to this new hell before she got it together to sedate Stan and go bury Kenny in the backyard.
Bebe rolled the joint carefully and found a lighter to light up. She heard tapping on the wall coming from Stan's room and let out a groan. He was probably trying to get out of his bed again. Not even a minute for her to decompress after a death. She exhaled, the smoke circling her head like a halo.
Kenny felt himself going up up up. He didn't want to leave, Bebe was so hot and she was hugging him, his face right on her chest. He felt bad he made her cry. He felt his spirit rise higher and higher, from the ruined wasteland that was their lives to an overwhelming calm and a beautiful sight before him.
Ten tall women stood before him, each with supermodel quality looks and not a stitch of clothing on. Kenny's mouth turned into a grin as he outstretched his hands, happy to be rewarded in the afterlife. He heard another male voice at his side.
"Yes mommy, step on me."
"Hey, I was here first. Wait…Clyde what the fuck?" Kenny stopped his ascent to find Mosquito next to him. "Dude what the hell are you doing in my afterlife? These are my ladies."
"I know. I've been watching. Not just the ladies…I'm scared." Clyde said, his voice taking on a heavy tone.
"Don't be scared to move on…if you have the ladies to look forward to." Kenny said, wanting to pull forward but being stuck firmly in place. Oh yeah, that was his conscience.
"I don't want to die. I didn't want to live how we were, it wasn't much but it was something. When I look at the ladies I can hear my mom yelling at me. I don't want to deal with her." Clyde said tearfully. "I liked being a superhero."
"They need you, you can help. I don't know if you realized what happened." Kenny continues, turning his back to not be distracted by the ladies.
"I can't go back. Please…help me Kenny." Clyde asked again.
Kenny rolled his eyes to the heavens, wondering what he could do.
Bebe took another drag off the joint, the ash dropping onto her arm and making her jump. She shook her head out of her stupor and rubbed the small burn on her arm. Stan's banging from his room would subside and start up again. Bebe wiped her face, things feeling heavy and stuck in her head as she went to check on him.
"Stan?" She asked.
Stan rolled his head in her direction. His arms still firmly taped at his sides. "This is humiliating. Let me out."
Bebe looked over at the bottles of medication she was supposed to give. Anxiety going through her, she was way too fucked up to give anyone a shot right now. "Stan…Stan I'm so sorry. I can't help you."
She sinks into the soft chair next to him, curling her knees to her chest. "Kenny…just died in my arms. I'm worried Clyde is next to die and then you. I don't want to deal with more death. I've just been going and not stopped to even process everyone is gone. That Wendy is gone." Her tears flow freely.
"I-I've been trapped here in bedland doing nothing but sleeping and processing it. She was gone and I wanted to go with her. Kyle…thought taking my legs was a better solution than letting me be with her. I hate this waking hell." Stan blinked at the ceiling, eyes red and horrible burning pain from every little movement.
"I'm sorry you lost your legs. Kyle is out trying to find more medicine to help you. You might be the only one left, Clyde doesn't have much time. You're one of the few alive who still has superpowers, as injured as you are. You can still bring more good to the world." Bebe sniffs and wipes her own red eyes.
"I'm useless. Fucking useless. It hurts too much for me to help if someone attacks us." Stan took a deep breath against the pain. "I don't want any more drugs. I deserve to feel this pain. You're being a hero right now. You're playing doctor to all of us injured when you have no reason too. You always took care of the little kids and babies when the apocalypse started. Lots of kids got to grow up because of you."
Bebe waves a hand. "I just did what I knew how to do. Babysit. Maybe I picked up a few things on the way." She leans back on the couch. "Shit I sound ungrateful."
"Maybe I'm ungrateful. I lost my legs but I still have powers. Everyone else is dead, except Kyle." Stan says.
"Maybe you can still help. Heal and get well, maybe you'll be like that wheelchair guy from the X-men." Bebe says, a slight smile through all her tears.
"Professor X? Maybe." Stan shuts his eyes, now overly tired from the pain and realization how dire things were.
A faint glow emits from the hallway. Bebe lets Stan go back to sleep on his own, promising not to drug him but keeps herself curled up on the chair, not wanting to move. She could turn the TV or computer off later, not wanting to see Kenny dead right now.
The creak of a door and footsteps can be heard in the hallway. Bebe's pulse quickens, what else could go wrong? Was someone trying to break into their farm house? She looks around desperately for a weapon, finding a baseball bat in the corner. She looks at Stan, his own eyes wide. She puts a finger to her lips and stands at the door, bat ready.
The doorknob turns and the door gently opens. Bebe screams and drops the bat, before she goes in to hug the person who just walked through the door.
"Hey, guys. I'm pretty hungry." Clyde says, rubbing his eyes as he returns Bebe's hug.