Stan got Bebe and Clyde to take a break from their flirtatious activities to call a meeting at the kitchen table. The sun was setting, casting a glow over the kitchen as wind whipped outside. Another snow storm would hit that night.
"I need your help, if you trust me." Stan said through gritted as he tried to ignore his pain. He propped himself up at the kitchen table.
"What gives us a reason to trust you?" Bebe said as she pulled the cake out of the oven. The smell of chocolate wafting through the kitchen.
"Because I don't want to kill myself anymore." Stan paused to let Bebe shoot him a dirty look. "It's true. It hurts a lot losing Wendy, but it would be stupid of me to die too if I'm one of the few left with superpowers. That's why I need your help." Stan said as he moved painfully in his chair.
"What do you need?" Clyde asked as he stood by Bebe at the stove, watching her place the cake on the counter to cool.
"I have command of power tools, kitchen tools and now technology. I want to go to the barn and with your help…see if I can rebuild my legs." Stan grimaces in pain, trying to study Clyde and Bebe's faces for a reaction, feeling very much like a kid asking his parents for permission.
Bebe's face darkened as she slapped Clyde's hand away from the cake. "Are you sure you can do that? It's not another trick so you can kill yourself?"
"Aw babes, have some faith in him. I think that sounds cool if you want me to help you." Clyde says to Stan, as he puts an arm around Bebe.
"Go ahead, Stan, I can't stop you. Just know this." Bebe turns off the stove and turns around to face him. "You better not break my trust again, it would be insulting on Wendy's memory and what she gave her life for."
"Promise, I can't be incapacitated forever. I'll even have your boyfriend to help me. Wait for Kyle to come back as well." Stan says as he accepts a slice of cake from Clyde.
"You better. I know you're in pain and suffering, Stan. But you still have your life. Don't waste it." Bebe takes her own seat at the table with her food.
"Don't worry, I won't." Stan says as he takes a bite. "Damn this is really good, I haven't had chocolate cake in years."
Bebe finally smiles as she takes a bite. "The ingredients were right, just knowing how to put them together to make something."
Stan shakes his head. "Too bad building myself new legs won't be that simple. But I have to try."
After dinner, Stan had Clyde take him to the barn so he could get started on trying to build himself some legs. He had taken some over the counter painkillers, half wondering if it would kill him if he took the entire bottle, but he had to fight through his pain and depression to help himself, and everyone else.
Clyde eased Stan onto an office chair with wheels on the bottom as Stan looked over the various farm equipment around him. He was nervous at the daunting task of getting his legs back. "I think we can take apart some of my dad's old farm equipment and fashion some legs for me."
"You would know how to do all that?" Clyde asks as he walked up to a large tractor, eyes wide at the thought of having to take it apart.
"I don't know, I might have to get the internet up first to look at how to do this. It's not exactly something to google, how to turn a tractor into new legs." Stan looked over a work table, once used for cutting up marijuana strains, now the space to rebuild his broken body. He shut his eyes, ignoring his own pain and the sound of Clyde poking around the odds and ends of the barn. He focused his powers on where to start.
Clyde used his mosquito wings to fly up to the top of the tractor and sat down, dust flying up as he settled in the tractor's seat. He looked over the controls as he watched Stan seated at the work table. He was there to make sure Stan didn't hurt himself, if only for Bebe's peace of mind. He didn't want to admit he was unsure if Stan could actually pull it off. Suddenly the tractor under him started to shake. First the grate of the tractor fell off, then parts of the internal engine flew out and over to Stan's table. Clyde yelled out as the tires came off and the tractor fell to its side.
Stan stared ahead, trying to get his powers to lead him towards what to do first. His eyes opened wide and his pulse sped up as a purple wave flew over him. His dad's tools started to come out of their places to fly into Stan's hands, the jumbled and depressed thoughts and pain subsided for a moment as Stan was hit with a dose of inspiration. His world opened up before him on exactly where to start to make himself some prosthetic legs.
"Wendy." He whispered her name under his breath as a screen of knowledge came to life in his mind's eye of exactly where to start and the tools and parts needed. The large purple screen started to guide his hands into assembly.
Clyde let out another yell as the tractor fell forward as parts from it started to pour out and appear before Stan. Clyde dusted himself and flew over to the workbench. Stan's face was blank, in a trance as he bent over the table to assemble the machine before him. Clyde opened his mouth to ask before he was shushed as Stan took a tiny screwdriver to program delicate wires in his new prosthetic legs.
"Stan?" Clyde asked. There was no answer as his friend kept staring forward, working away at his task.
"Hey dude, you're gonna look like some kind of pirate robot. Maybe you can add it to your superhero persona?" Clyde said as he took a seat next to Stan.
Stan ignored him as he kept fiddling away at his invention. His mind raced with the high speed technology Wendy had instilled in him. It seemed to course through his veins as he followed instructions only he could see. He felt himself flying high on the rush of using his powers since the accident. Something was out there, Wendy or his own will was guiding him as his hands worked on the intricate prosthetic. His mind whirred as he assembled his legs with master precision. After a while he looked up, blinking and staring straight at Clyde before collapsing and almost falling out of his chair.
Clyde quickly caught him, terrified at Stan's odd behavior. "Hey you okay?" He asked as he moved to help Stan back into his chair.
Stan's lips moved, making the smallest of sounds.
"What was that?" Clyde asked again.
"I'm done…thank you, Wendy. I'm done for the day." Stan's eyes closed as the screen went dark in his vision, leaving Clyde with the task of dragging him back to the farmhouse.
Tweek jumped when he heard a knock at the door and poked his head out from under his plush blankets.
"Breakfast." The guard called out cheerily as a tray was set out for him.
Tweek didn't respond until he saw a silver coffee pot and mug set out as well. As soon as the guard left, Tweek forced himself out of bed shivering the whole way to grab his first cup of the day. His body ached and he knew he was bruised and scraped all over from fights with the guards in the controlled zone. He moved his aching shoulders as his hand shook as he poured himself some black coffee. His breakfast tray remained untouched as he quickly drained his cup, and refilled it.
When the guard came to collect Tweek's tray, he saw the food still on it. "Did you want anything else?"
"More coffee, and to talk to Red. I want to know what the hell you did to me." Tweek said, his body jittery even if his brain was screaming for more caffeine.
The guard paused as he gathered Tweek's dishes. "You have permission for more coffee, but talking to the higher up staff would need to be requested from admin."
"Then ask them! How much coffee am I allowed?" Tweek demanded as he passed the cup back. That first pot had barely gotten him out of bed, nowhere near the levels he had been used to.
The guard sighed and looked at his notes on a clipboard. "If you cooperate, you can have all the coffee you can drink."
Tweek stopped, rubbing his tired eyes as his brain did a small cheer for the possibility. "Yes, go get me more coffee. What else do I have to lose? My boyfriend is dead and I'm in prison. Please, let me have one good thing left."
"I don't know…need to talk to the bosses." The guard says cautiously. "You already have a nicer cell."
"It's still a prison. Please more coffee and let me talk to Red. I don't even know if I killed Dougie. What else do I have left?" Tweek pleads again.
"I'll…get back to you. With more coffee." The guard promises as he walks off with Tweek's tray.
Tweek sunk down into a chair, looking out the window. Snow was floating down as the prison workers were coming in for the start of the day. Tweek pressed his nose to the glass, wondering about these kids working for the city. Were they in the same position as Tweek now? Nothing left to lose and just trying to survive. His whole life he was scared of responsibility and depended on Craig so much, now he was lost. The weight of grief on top of fear and now guilt.
Tweek jerked his body at a knock on his door. Red herself showed up holding an even larger coffee pot and two mugs. "Care for a chat?" She asked.
Without waiting for an answer, the guard unlocked the door for her as Red walked into Tweek's cell, setting down the tray on the table.
Tweek hesitated, shocked prison personnel would so casually hang out in his cell. Very suspicious. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He holds outstretched fingers as Red pours him a cup of coffee.
"Because you're cooperating and being a good superhero. Keep it up and you can gain even more privileges." Red handed the cup to Tweek and poured herself one. Tweek snatched it, slightly put off by her glowing yellow eye.
"Oh god, is Dougie dead? What else will you have me do to cooperate?" Tweek took a big gulp of his coffee, despite the burning on his tongue the second pot of coffee getting him back into his normal state. Normal for him at least.
"For now he's in the infirmary but hasn't awoken. You did a good job taking him down when he wasn't following orders." Red sipped her cup, her yellow eye glittering and the scarring on her face coming into view in the morning light for Tweek to get a good look.
He shuddered as he drained his cup and went to pour another. "Oh god, what if he never awakes? That would be my fault and I couldn't live with it."
"Just keep enjoying your coffee, enjoy your new apartment, if you want anything just ask a guard. It'll be fine." Red tries to soothe him and place a hand on his shoulder as Tweek shakes her off.
"It's still a prison. If you really wanted to make me feel better you'd let me go." Tweek grumbles as he fills his cup again.
"The boss doesn't want you to leave just yet. Why would you want to?" Red gets up to look out the window overlooking Middle Park. "It's hard out there, people scrounging for food and supplies. Just relax up here and enjoy your coffee. We can get you some books, maybe a tv if you keep cooperating."
"Relax? How can I relax? People have been telling me to relax all my life! It doesn't work like that for me." Tweek shrieked as he set down his cup to meet Red. "I feel like everyone is in onto something and won't tell me the truth! Just tell me!"
Red froze and looked at Tweek again. "More coffee?"
"Why is this coffee the exact blend of my shop? Nobody has coffee as good as mine and this is an exact duplicate. How did it end up as prison coffee?" Tweek fumed as he took another drink.
"It's not prison coffee." Red started.
"Bullshit." Tweek growled.
"It's not, it's a fine quality saved for the elites of this suburb. You should be proud. People drank this as they rebuilt society." Red says.
"So how did you get this coffee?" Tweek wracked his mind to all the business transactions his and Craig's coffee shop did. Tweek focused on growing and grinding the coffee. The paperwork stuff would frustrate him so Craig would take care of it.
"Are you okay? You're crying?" Red said sympathetically.
Tweek sniffed as wipes his eyes and runny nose with this sleeve as he drained his cup the third time. He poured again from the pot, emptying it. "If you want to make me happy, get me my own coffee pot, supplies, and coffee grounds so I can make it how I like."
A smile crossed Red's disfigured face. "Of course, anything else?"
Tweek's mind raced, he couldn't exactly ask and see his old business transactions. Those stacks of paperwork stressed him out to even think about. Criag always handed them. Someone must have lied to his boyfriend to sell coffee to the enemy. But who? Cartman? Or maybe Butters and Dougie weren't as nice as they let on? He felt the walls of his cell close in on him as the pressure of the thoughts overwhelmed him.
"I think a walk would do you some good." Red smiled as she got the guard to open up the door, holding an arm out. Tweek just stood there, hyperventilating and wishing for more coffee.
Kyle shuffled into the prison for his morning shift. He could hear the prisoners yell and insult him as he walked down the corridor. He stopped in the office to get his assignment and see if there was any breakfast available. Nothing but coffee which he took a cup of as he read his work assignment. He was supposed to be in the lower cell block, but since no one seemed to care about their jobs it would be easy enough to slip off to the library.
He went through the motions of at least checking on the prisoners. He peered into the cells as they either glared, acted disinterested, or shouted insults at him. After taking his daily verbal beating, making sure everyone was fed, and no one was dead, Kyle slipped into the downstairs library closing the door behind him.
His sanctuary.
He was getting along with his roommates but didn't want to get too close in case his identity would be discovered. Even with countless invitations to play D&D, Kyle kept to himself. But thinking back to Stan's bedroom at the old Tegrity farmhouse were tons of board games, left untouched. When Kyle made his escape, he would be sure to bring a few games back upon his return to the controlled zone. But for now Kyle breathed in the smell of paper and old books as he walked around looking for what to occupy himself until he was to give out lunch trays.
His fingers traced the book spines, wondering if he could smuggle some of these books along with a first aid kit he was slowly taking from to gather a stockpile at home. He stopped, looking over the medical books for anything that could be helpful when he spied a book at the bottom of the shelf. 'The Complete Guide to Human Sexuality." He wanted to roll his eyes, whatever he was surely wasn't in there. He thought back to his kiss with Bebe, then with Stan and not feeling like he belonged in either category. Straight? Gay? Bi? Nothing seemed to fit. It had been bothering him since it first came up, it also felt stupid to even worry about. The apartment was now a collapsed building, most of his friends dead, injured Stan, and an apocalypse to worry about. But his own sexuality kept floating up to the forefront of his problems. It bothered him that he would be so selfish at a time like this.
Even so Kyle flipped open the book to look through it, not sure what to expect. He hovered between the pages for straight, homosexual, bisexual, and all the others in between. He let out a sigh knowing he wouldn't fit into any of those categories before he got to the last part of the book.
Asexual.
"What the fuck?" Kyle said under his breath as he read over the chapter. No sexual attraction to anyone. Could still have romantic love but not sexual. Or no romantic attraction at all. Kyle's eyes gobbled up this new knowledge. In shock he felt seen for the first time. He flipped to the front of the book to see it was published right before the apocalypse. He sighed, grateful for discovering this label but it being too late. To talk to someone about it. To find others.
He heard some shuffling outside and a rancid smell permeated his nostrils. Someone in the hallway either farted or full on shit their pants. Kyle peeked into the hall. A plain looking person in a lab coat stopped in the hall to fart again, Kyle immediately knew who this was when they moved to South Park when they were kids. King Douchebag or the Amazing Butthole, now seemingly working for the prison. Maybe he never joined the Coon and Friends and decided to work for the enemy.
Kyle tucked the book in the waistband of his pants as he donned his mask to follow Douchebag. The new kid's lab coat gave him hope he would be led to the infirmary to take supplies.
Douchebag would stop every few feet to let out another fart, much to the disgust of the prisoners in their cells, but no one yelled insults at him. In fact it was oddly silent except for the farts. Was it respect for the former new kid, or fear? Kyle kept his distance as he saw Douchebag enter a broom closet, the door slamming shut behind him.
Kyle almost went back to the library, keeping watch on why the new kid went into the broom closet. After half an hour the curiosity was getting the best of him. He could open up the door just to see what was going on.
Kyle walked forward, careful to make sure no one could see him. He opened up the door to take a peek to find it completely empty. "What the fuck?" Kyle said under his breath once again. There had to be something in there, a secret entrance. Medical supplies aside, Kyle had to figure out what this prison was hiding and who was really in charge. He was pretty sure Cartman was dead, but who was behind all this cruelty? Kyle could see an outline under a rack of brooms, mops, and buckets. He moved the rack aside to find a door and a keypad. He wanted to curse since it asked for a thumbprint to enter. Whatever was back there was well hidden. Kyle looked over the keypad before he noticed something scanned his eyes. He froze, for sure he was going to get into trouble before a mechanical voice started calmly. "Biometric data recognized, subject unknown." Before the door popped open for Kyle.
He looked both ways before going into the hidden doorway, taken aback that it had been that easy. Feeling anxious as he made his way into the unknown.
Butters was a good boy, but being good always got him into trouble. If his dad was still alive he'd surely ground Butters for that stunt pulled back there on the prison yard. Butters had mixed feelings with his parent's deaths, being on his own for the first time Butters tried to join Coon and Friends, but when he went to Cartman for his official superhero test (Cartman's orders and at his judgment) Butters had failed spectacularly.
So he made his home on the outskirts of the city, General Disarray…no Dougie, his only friend and companion. While no one could quite match Butters' sunny disposition, Dougie was a good roommate and adopted little brother to Butters. He liked nerdy stuff and kept up his studies, even holding school for the two of them which Butters participated in. They both enjoyed math. But he noticed a bit of darkness in Dougie, maybe everyone had a shade of darkness except for Butters- which made him the fool. Certainly not the first time for Butters. But seeing Dougie lose his shit out on the yard and Tweek knocking him down. Hurting him. Butters kept asking if Dougie would be okay or any word on his condition. He was met with sealed lips and condescending looks with sad eyes.
Butters probably had his answer even if he feared the worst.
"Please…someone let me know what happened to my friend." Butters asked when his cell door would open to deposit his lunch. Still nothing. Butters regretted it a lot, but he gave them his powers to experiment. Being dumb enough to believe they wouldn't hurt him or those he cared about. They said it would help people if he 'donated' his powers.
He sat with his back against the wall and put his hand up, electricity igniting at his fingertips but down to a dull spark, not even strong enough to power an electric fence. His mind control didn't work either. Something that he could fall back on was his hammer of chaos, but that was a long way off from summoning.
He heard footsteps down the hall and went to the bars of his cell to see who was coming. A tall kid with close cropped red hair, a medical mask over his face, the way he walked and carried himself was so familiar.
"Kyle?" Butters called out, confused.
Kyle stopped and froze. He turned to see his old childhood friend behind bars. "No, wrong person. My name is Alex." His eyes wide, pleading with Butters not to be a dumbass and give him away.
"What are you doin' here, Kyle? You workin' for the scientists? You know if Dougie is okay?" Butters continued.
Kyle walked right up to the cell and put a finger to his lips. "Shh I'm under cover. My name is Alex. What happened to you?"
"They caught us and threw us in jail. Said they would take some of our powers to help everyone. But I just keep gettin' beaten up. I didn't want this." Butters said sadly.
Kyle shook his head, annoyed at Butters but still feeling bad for him. "What the hell are they doing taking powers? What happened to Dougie?"
"He fell, they took him down. Made Tweek do it. I haven't seen either of them since the accident." Butters hands shook slightly on the bars.
"I'm a guard, just entry level. My name is Alex for now." Kyle said sharply again. "Tweek is here?" A flutter of hope ran through him. "Maybe there were other survivors?"
"Okay….Alex. Can you find out what happened to the others? At least Dougie and maybe Tweek?" Butters asked again.
"Yeah, I'll look around. I'll get you out of here too. Not sure how but I'll get you out. Promise." Kyle stuck his hand through the bars to shake Butters' hand, almost giddy at the thought that more people had survived. Maybe some of the trauma of laying out the dead and burying them could be healed.
A guard came with another pot of coffee and Red. "Figured you'd want a tour of the facilities, you're a VIP prisoner right now." Red said as she accepted a cup of coffee in a disposable cup.
"Still a prisoner." Tweek muttered as he grabbed the cup and took a grateful sip.
"Keep cooperating and maybe that label will disappear for you too." Red said as she held her hand out. "Join me?"
Tweek shuddered a little at Red's spooky yellow eye, the coffee cup trembled in his hand as he tried to steady himself. "Y-yeah okay. I want to know what you want from me. Why you're doing this to everyone with powers?"
Red sipped her cup, her face expressionless which creeped out Tweek more than her eye. "It's time we took you on a tour."
A guard came up to place handcuffs on Tweek's hands. "W-what are you doing? I thought I had privileges?"
"You have some privileges but you're not a completely free man just yet. Cooperate and things will get better for you." Red said, voice neutral as she walked down the hall.
Tweek spied a taser in the guard's hand and quickened his pace to match Red's. His former classmate walked quickly but with purpose, only pausing to press her finger to a scanner.
She looked up at Tweek's shocked expression as the robotic tone cooley stated that Red's DNA was a match and access granted. "You gave it your DNA?" He asked with a shudder.
"Everyone's in the system if we collected their powers or they volunteered like me." Red said as she held the door open for Tweek.
Tweek looked behind him as the guard moved him forward through the door into what seemed to be a plain office building. Desks piled high with papers and a few computers. His eyes glanced over a few wanted posters with his former comrades on them, about half of them crossed out.
Slain.
Seemed so final, a vile and nasty word. Tweek looked away as Red quickened her pace to open up another door to a laboratory.
She grabbed a lab coat and donned a pair of goggles as she looked at Tweek.
"You're going to need some protection. Freddy, can you put some goggles on him?" Red asked her guard.
The guard was putting on his own goggles and jacket before he roughly grabbed Tweek and yanked a pair of goggles over his face.
Panic races through Tweek's mind as his vision gets covered and he's shuffled into the next room. "What are you doing?"
"You wanted answers didn't you? Follow me." Red says as she takes another sip of coffee.
The new room was dull gray, clinical, and cold. Tweek's teeth chattered from anxiety and freezing as he looked around the various equipment, machines and screens around him.
"What is all that? What are you going to do to me?" Tweek shivered but couldn't warm himself up with his handcuffs on as he walked through the lab.
"We don't need anything from you now at the moment. But this is what we've been working on. A monument to Douchebag and I's work." Red led Tweek over to a bunch of test tubes with labels on them.
Tweek looked frantically over the test tubes, they each had one of his former teammates' names on them. Fastpass, Tupperware, Mintberry Crunch, Captain Diabetes, Call Girl, and Human Kite all lined up in a row. "What the hell are these?" Tweek felt his heart break at seeing Super Craig at the end.
"When we heard about the demise of Coon and Friends we sent a team out to collect samples. Shame their bodies perished but that doesn't mean their powers died with them."
"What do you mean? Why do you want me?" Tweek wanted to rip his hair out as he kept shaking, his eyes glued to Super Craig's vial.
"You still have superpowers, you're willing to work for us. We collected the samples and are working on a solution to why our super power transfer process isn't working." Red said as she picked up a large instrument that looked like a gun.
"Oh fuck, what the hell is that? Don't kill me." Tweek begged.
"I'm not, but this item is Douchebag's invention. This little gun can take the superpowered DNA and give it to someone so they inherit the power. I volunteered to be the first test subject but things didn't go as planned." Red moved her hair back to show her scarred skin with red burn marks and her spooky yellow eye.
"Holy fuck. So you got burned by that gun. Then why do you keep helping with this horrible experiment?" Tweek starts to back away from Red as he looks for an escape.
"But Tweek, we're missing a puzzle piece. It's not just me." Red goes to an intercom and calls for Douchebag. A screen lights up behind her, illuminating her disfigured face as she pulls up some paperwork. "The test subjects who never had powers are slowly dying. What we need is the most important power."
"Uhhh friendship?" Tweek asks as Red glares at him.
"No stupid. Immortality. If we can get a sample of Mysterion's powers we can keep the test subjects alive for the powers to take. If they would stop dying we can achieve what we always wanted." Red says as she gets closer to Tweek.
Tweek backed against a door that opened up behind him. With nothing but sheer panic in his mind he took off running.
"Get him!" Red ordered as the guard, not used to uncooperative prisoners, took off after him.
Tweek ran down a hall, and ducked into a dark side door. The room dim and the sound of mechanical beeps. Tweek's tried to pry his hands apart, but the handcuffs held firm. He walked through rows of beds holding kids in various stages of injury. Most were unconscious but their faces had horrible burns, some missing limbs, some with oxygen masks over their faces, their lungs burned. Tweek always hated hospitals and seeing how gravely injured these kids were. He looked up to see the guard and Red coming for him.
Tweek kept running as something caught the corner of his eye. A shock of red curly hair, Dougie lay unconscious in a bed, his hands and arms covered in bandages. Tweek couldn't help himself as he went up to Dougie.
"I'm sorry." He squeaked out. "Sorry I did this to you. I didn't know."
As he reached out to touch Dougie's arm he was nabbed by the security guard as a taser hit him in the side. This time, he didn't have the will to fight back.
Tweek was brought upright to face Red. "What did you do to them?"
"This is why we need Kenny's immortality, so they can survive after they get their superpowers." Red told him in her calm even tone.
"So you're hurting them? For the sake of superpowers?" Tweek asked.
"They all volunteered, all of them. They wanted the chance to be someone great. That's why having you help is so important."
"What do you want from me?" Tweek asked.
"We need someone who developed superpowers naturally to work for us. To take on the powers to discover a cure for this. Until Mysterion's powers can be harvested."
Tweek looked over at Dougie in his bed, hands burned back to Red and her burned face. "I-I guess I have no choice." He finally said, looking down in defeat.