- - -
Busting meth labs in Park County was nothing new for Mysterion. The last two years of pandemic madness and other nonsense had led to a spike in crime, and he was doing his level best to fight it.
But the incident with "Mitch Conner" (Fucking Cartman) had demonstrated that Mysterion couldn't fight on his own. There was just too much to handle by himself. The Freedom Pals helped more, now that they were really coming into their powers, but he'd been doing this since he was eight.
So when it came to handling crime himself, he only had one partner in mind.
He crouched in the tree overlooking the rundown warehouse near the train tracks, his cape fluttering out behind him in the night breeze. He narrowed his eyes at the warehouse, assessing the situation. Alongside him, dressed in her very flattering purple and pink outfit, Call Girl analyzed her readings on one of her many devices, connecting to it almost psychically.
"Well?" Mysterion grunted in his deep, gravelly voice.
"Confirmed. All five of the suspects are inside," she replied softly. "No real security system, and none of the nearby cameras record dogs or other obstacles." She turned and looked at him in concern. "Still... Sure we can handle this?"
"I'm sure," Mysterion said. "Otherwise, what was the point of all that gym time?"
"I'm serious," Call Girl pressed, "I mean, we know they're armed but-"
"Doesn't matter to me," Mysterion interrupted. "It never has."
Call Girl scowled at him.
"I get that sometimes you want to be macho, but you shouldn't have a death wish," she said. Mysterion chuckled blackly.
"Ha. That's funny," he said. "Death wish."
"I'm serious!" Call Girl insisted, "I know what you put on your character sheet but this is real life!"
"Yeah yeah," Mysterion said, "but you're right. We'll do this smart."
"All I ask," Call Girl said with a smile. "Goggles?"
"Goggles," Mysterion agreed, pulling on his set of the nightvision goggles Call Girl had gotten for them. He activated his own, and the world was cast into greens. Call Girl nodded to him.
"Let's do it."
- - -
The bust went pretty well from the start, actually. They placed doorjambs on every entrance, blocking off any chance of escape that way. They then climbed to the roof. Call Girl tapped into the electrical tap, and soon the warehouse lights went dark. They could hear the shouts and confused cries of the criminals inside.
That was when Call Girl activated her trump card. Every cell phone and electronic device in the meth lab with even a modest internet connectivity ability went off at once.
"PHONE DESTROYERRR~!"
The lithium batteries all went up in small explosions, which is when Mysterion and Call Girl smashed through the skylight. Mysterion fell on the first two thugs, slamming their heads together and hard, while using the momentum of his descent to slam them through a table to the floor. Call Girl used her taser escrima sticks like daggers, plunging them into the chest of another meth dealer and stunning him. He fell with another blow to the back of his head.
"Three," Mysterion muttered. He spotted another thug pulling a gun, and he pulled a throwing knife. He let it loose with perfect accuracy, nailing the guy in his shoulder. He bellowed in pain, distracted, which allowed Mysterion to jump over the table covered in lab equipment to slam his feet into his face. The thug fell hard, and Mysterion finished him off with a punch to the side of the head with his armored knuckles.
"Four," he added.
Mysterion looked over his shoulder at Call Girl, who dodged the wild swings of the fifth thug. She smacked him around with her escrima sticks, but the guy was clearly high on his own product with how he ignored the shocks. In the darkness of the warehouse, he couldn't see well, but he was dangerous enough. Mysterion moved to help, grabbing a beaker and throwing it into the back of the thug. He cried out and jerked his eyes back to Mysterion-Just long enough for Call Girl to drop down and leg sweep the guy.
"FUCK!" He shouted as he slammed into the concrete floor. Call Girl slammed a fist into his temple, and a smack with her escrima stick for good measure. The guy finally collapsed, still twitching from the drugs in his system. Call Girl looked up with a grin Mysterion swore he could see even without the nightvision goggles.
"Haa... Haa... Five. Perfect," Call Girl said with a grin. Mysterion nodded back, feeling like he could almost relax...
Then one of the doors busted open and a man brandished a machine gun.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" He bellowed. Mysterion immediately shoved Call Girl aside as the guy opened fire. Bullets whizzed through the air, and through him. He ignored the agony, as he had done countless times, and threw a firecracker into the man's face. The explosions and sparks rained on his face, making the thug cry out and cover his face. He staggered backwards, his gun down.
Call Girl sprinted, using all her muscles to tackle the guy into the door frame. He struggled, but a blast from Call Girl's tasers left him limp. She still beat the shit out of him, breaking his nose and jaw with her escrima sticks. He slid down whimpering, and Call Girl yanked the machine gun away and tossed it into the dark warehouse. She stood up, breathing hard, as she scanned around.
"Shit, we missed one," she grunted. "Mysterion? Mysteri-Oh God..."
She raced up to him. Mysterion laid on the floor, propped up against a wooden table covered in chemicals. He held his stomach as blood gushed from multiple bullet wounds. He looked up at her as she knelt beside him, a wry grin on his face.
"Heh... Well... Fuck," he said, "guess we need to get better about recon, huh?"
"Oh God, oh God," Call Girl gasped. "Just-Just hang on!" She grabbed part of Mysterion's cape and bunched it up, pressing it hard against the wounds, "It's gonna be okay, Mysterion. I promise, it will be okay. I'm calling an ambulance-!"
"They got my liver and lung, at least," Mysterion replied softly, "death is ensured in about... Ten minutes? Maybe twenty. No ambulance is going to make it-"
"Shut up! Stop talking like that!" Call Girl shot back, applying as much pressure as she could. "You're going into shock, you need to elevate your legs-!"
"You always cared, you know? Even when we didn't talk to each other," Mysterion went on, "you still cared. Even back in preschool... I remember that. It was... I really liked it. I liked you. Ya know? Your strength too." He shrugged. "Then you hit puberty and the gym and... You just became hot. Like, so hot. Stan was a fucking idiot to lose you, ya know?"
"You-You should stop talking, Kenny," Call Girl said, her voice shaking, "you need to stay calm-Breathe deeply, it'll be okay-"
"The bitch of it is, it doesn't matter if I die for real," Mysterion went on sadly, "because you won't remember...."
"Remember what?!" Call Girl demanded. Mysterion looked up into her eyes, and smiled even as blood began to drool from his mouth.
"Any of this..." He sighed, "so, I may as well..."
"As well wha-Mmph?!" Call Girl would have cried out louder, but Kenny had pulled her into a kiss. It was warm, and wet, and tasted like blood and her heart still pounded like a drum holy shit...
Mysterion broke the kiss, and smiled at her.
"See you tomorrow," he murmured, as he began to cough up more blood. Call Girl screamed at him, moved his legs, tried to reach him however she could, but... It didn't do any good.
Which was a shame. She was beautiful when she cried. But he hated seeing her cry. Especially over him.
- - -
Wendy was a mess the next day at school. She had accompanied the paramedics all the way to Hell's Pass Hospital, where she'd watched anxiously as the doctors and nurses tried to revive Kenny. But it hadn't done any good-He was gone.
The police showed up soon after, and Wendy had to make herself scarce. She managed to crawl into bed at... 3 something? She'd pulled off her costume, turned on the shower, sat in the corner, and cried her eyes out.
She hadn't wanted to go to school, but... Finals were coming up and despite everything, she couldn't let anyone make the connection between her and Call Girl. Though with Kenny's death, that was only a matter of time.
Wendy trudged into South Park High School, staring blankly ahead. The rambunctious chatter of the other students was just a buzz in her mind, nothing she could latch onto. She bumped into someone, and looked up into the concerned face of Stan Marsh.
"Wendy? You okay?" He asked. Wendy wanted to open her mouth, say something... But no words would come. Stan looked even more concerned, and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"Wendy? What's wrong?" He asked.
I got one of your best friends killed last night, Wendy thought, but the words just didn't get to her lips. She felt tears threatening the corners of her eyes again. Stan's frown deepened.
"Hey, come on," he said, "it'll be okay. Let's just go talk about it somewhere. I'll get Kyle and Kenny-"
The tears erupted, and she had to bite her teeth down to contain a wail. She shut her eyes tightly.
No... No, you can't cry... You can't lose control, not now...!
"Wendy? Wendy!"
"Stan, if you're gonna make your bitchy ex cry, do it somewhere less embarrassing, huh?" Cartman snarked from his locker, "you're such a pussy."
"Fuck you Cartman!" Stan shot back.
"Hey, fuck you and her!" Cartman shot back. "Not my fault she's a fucking emotional wreck!"
Wendy clenched her fists and broke from Stan. She pulled back her fist, as Cartman saw and cringed. He still remembered how hard she'd beaten him up in their elementary school days, but if he was going to be this mouthy, he needed another lesson-!
"Woah! What's up, guys?"
Wendy froze. She turned and stared at the blonde boy in the orange parka. He smiled at her, his face for once uncovered by his hood.
Her jaw dropped as the rest of the world seemed to fade away. She didn't even notice Cartman scurry off with as much dignity as he could manage.
Stan walked up alongside her, and looked between Wendy and Kenny with a frown.
"Kenny, did you do something to upset Wendy?" Stan asked suspiciously. Kenny rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"Ah... Maybe," he said, "I mean, I do check her and the rest of the volleyball team out during practice every day. And when she's jogging. And when she's on the high beam. She sure knows how to handle a big piece of wood-"
Wendy grabbed Kenny by the collar, and dragged him away towards the stairs.
"Make an excuse for us, Stan!" Wendy shouted. Stan gaped after them.
"Wait, wha-?"
"MAKE AN EXCUSE!" She shouted as she hauled Kenny up the steps. Kyle stopped next to Stan, his eyebrows raised.
"Dare I ask what's going on now?" He inquired. Stan shook his head.
"Got me. Let's get to class."
- - -
Breaking onto the roof was no challenge for Wendy, and even in her agitated state she made sure the locks were put back properly so no one would be the wiser. That was the limit of her emotional control though, as she seized the taller Kenny by his shoulders and slammed him against the nearest air conditioner.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" She demanded. Kenny blinked at her.
"What the fuck what?" He asked.
"You know what-!" Wendy unzipped his parka and yanked up his shirt. She felt up his abs, and leaned in to look them over. Not a scar, not a blood splotch, not a trace of the bullets that had killed him. Nothing.
"You know, if you wanted me to strip, you just had to ask-" Kenny tried, but Wendy looked up at him in fury.
"WHY AREN"T YOU DEAD?!" She demanded.
Kenny's jaw dropped. All traces of his previous joviality vanished as he stared at her.
"Wait... You-You remember?" He whispered.
"Of course I remember! I was there! I held you as you died!" Wendy shrieked. "WHO COULD FORGET THAT?!"
Kenny... Immediately wrapped her in a tight hug. Wendy's tirade seemed to shatter, as she felt him nearly sob against her shoulder.
"You... Holy fuck, you remember," Kenny whispered, "holy fuck... I... You remembered this time."
"This... Time?" Wendy asked. "What the hell do you mean, this time?!"
Kenny let out a long sigh. He looked sad, and yet... Almost giddy. It was strange, an unfamiliar look on the usually joking, perverted boy's face.
"I... It's a long story," he managed.
"Then start talking. Now," Wendy ordered.
- - -
They found a crappy bench that someone had chucked on the roof rather than into a dumpster, and sat down. And Kenny... Told her everything.
About the Cthulhu cultist meetings his parents had gone to. About the battles for Heaven and Hell... And Earth. About every time he had ever died. When he was finished, Wendy just sat and stared at him, processing it all. Kenny just sat and stared back, looking almost relieved... But also anxious.
It took her longer than she thought to put together a response.
"That's fucked up."
Kenny grinned.
"Yeah... It is," he said. "I mean, a world of superpowers and monsters and demons and... Well, I'm the immortal one because my parents liked free beer."
Wendy slowly nodded, looking down at her hands. They were on her knees, clenching and unclenching almost involuntarily.
"You believe me?" Kenny asked. Wendy rolled her eyes.
"Kenny, after everything we've been through, how can you ask that?"
Kenny looked taken aback, then shrugged.
"I dunno. I've never... I've never had someone remember it. I wonder if that's a bad sign?"
"I hope not," Wendy said. She gave him a probing look. "I do have one... Main question."
"Yeah?" Kenny asked.
Wendy steeled herself.
"How many times have you died... Because of me?" She asked. Kenny frowned.
"What do you mean, because of you-?"
"I did the count wrong on those men," Wendy said, "and if you hadn't shoved me out of the way-"
Kenny grabbed her hands, and pulled them into his. He leaned forward and looked Wendy right in the eyes. He was serious now-As serious as he was while Mysterion. Like an old man in a younger man's skin. On his youthful face, it seemed... Out of place.
"Wendy, I can die and come back. It doesn't stick for me," Kenny admitted, "but for you, it will. I get second chances-you don't. So as far as I'm concerned? As long as you're still alive at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what happens to me. Because if I die, I'll be fine. You die? ... You won't."
Her heart fluttered in her chest again. Wendy sucked in a deep breath, holding his gaze.
"And... All those other things you said?" She asked softly.
Kenny actually blushed-It was pleasing to Wendy. Usually the perverted kid was the one making everyone else-her included-do that.
"Er, well... I thought you wouldn't remember," he admitted. "Boy, sure glad I died at that kiss."
"... Are you?" Wendy asked quietly. Kenny blinked... Then smiled.
"No. No, not really," he admitted. "... Did you like the kiss?"
"... Yes," she admitted, "but I... I mean, with you dying it was pretty gross-"
Kenny leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. She froze again, and her eyes slowly closed. He had some experience, more than her, by the way his tongue and lips worked against hers. But Wendy didn't mind.
Finally, Kenny broke the kiss. A thin string of saliva connected their lips, as they both panted for breath with red faces.
"... Better?" Kenny asked.
Wendy couldn't help a little grin.
"... Much."
- - -
Yeah, that just happened. I don't think I'll write more for this, as I've got too many other projects (as usual). But given the majority of South Park fanfiction is just shitty melodrama, I thought, what the hey? A crack pairing with superpowers. Why not?
I finally got it out of my system though.
Busting meth labs in Park County was nothing new for Mysterion. The last two years of pandemic madness and other nonsense had led to a spike in crime, and he was doing his level best to fight it.
But the incident with "Mitch Conner" (Fucking Cartman) had demonstrated that Mysterion couldn't fight on his own. There was just too much to handle by himself. The Freedom Pals helped more, now that they were really coming into their powers, but he'd been doing this since he was eight.
So when it came to handling crime himself, he only had one partner in mind.
He crouched in the tree overlooking the rundown warehouse near the train tracks, his cape fluttering out behind him in the night breeze. He narrowed his eyes at the warehouse, assessing the situation. Alongside him, dressed in her very flattering purple and pink outfit, Call Girl analyzed her readings on one of her many devices, connecting to it almost psychically.
"Well?" Mysterion grunted in his deep, gravelly voice.
"Confirmed. All five of the suspects are inside," she replied softly. "No real security system, and none of the nearby cameras record dogs or other obstacles." She turned and looked at him in concern. "Still... Sure we can handle this?"
"I'm sure," Mysterion said. "Otherwise, what was the point of all that gym time?"
"I'm serious," Call Girl pressed, "I mean, we know they're armed but-"
"Doesn't matter to me," Mysterion interrupted. "It never has."
Call Girl scowled at him.
"I get that sometimes you want to be macho, but you shouldn't have a death wish," she said. Mysterion chuckled blackly.
"Ha. That's funny," he said. "Death wish."
"I'm serious!" Call Girl insisted, "I know what you put on your character sheet but this is real life!"
"Yeah yeah," Mysterion said, "but you're right. We'll do this smart."
"All I ask," Call Girl said with a smile. "Goggles?"
"Goggles," Mysterion agreed, pulling on his set of the nightvision goggles Call Girl had gotten for them. He activated his own, and the world was cast into greens. Call Girl nodded to him.
"Let's do it."
- - -
The bust went pretty well from the start, actually. They placed doorjambs on every entrance, blocking off any chance of escape that way. They then climbed to the roof. Call Girl tapped into the electrical tap, and soon the warehouse lights went dark. They could hear the shouts and confused cries of the criminals inside.
That was when Call Girl activated her trump card. Every cell phone and electronic device in the meth lab with even a modest internet connectivity ability went off at once.
"PHONE DESTROYERRR~!"
The lithium batteries all went up in small explosions, which is when Mysterion and Call Girl smashed through the skylight. Mysterion fell on the first two thugs, slamming their heads together and hard, while using the momentum of his descent to slam them through a table to the floor. Call Girl used her taser escrima sticks like daggers, plunging them into the chest of another meth dealer and stunning him. He fell with another blow to the back of his head.
"Three," Mysterion muttered. He spotted another thug pulling a gun, and he pulled a throwing knife. He let it loose with perfect accuracy, nailing the guy in his shoulder. He bellowed in pain, distracted, which allowed Mysterion to jump over the table covered in lab equipment to slam his feet into his face. The thug fell hard, and Mysterion finished him off with a punch to the side of the head with his armored knuckles.
"Four," he added.
Mysterion looked over his shoulder at Call Girl, who dodged the wild swings of the fifth thug. She smacked him around with her escrima sticks, but the guy was clearly high on his own product with how he ignored the shocks. In the darkness of the warehouse, he couldn't see well, but he was dangerous enough. Mysterion moved to help, grabbing a beaker and throwing it into the back of the thug. He cried out and jerked his eyes back to Mysterion-Just long enough for Call Girl to drop down and leg sweep the guy.
"FUCK!" He shouted as he slammed into the concrete floor. Call Girl slammed a fist into his temple, and a smack with her escrima stick for good measure. The guy finally collapsed, still twitching from the drugs in his system. Call Girl looked up with a grin Mysterion swore he could see even without the nightvision goggles.
"Haa... Haa... Five. Perfect," Call Girl said with a grin. Mysterion nodded back, feeling like he could almost relax...
Then one of the doors busted open and a man brandished a machine gun.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" He bellowed. Mysterion immediately shoved Call Girl aside as the guy opened fire. Bullets whizzed through the air, and through him. He ignored the agony, as he had done countless times, and threw a firecracker into the man's face. The explosions and sparks rained on his face, making the thug cry out and cover his face. He staggered backwards, his gun down.
Call Girl sprinted, using all her muscles to tackle the guy into the door frame. He struggled, but a blast from Call Girl's tasers left him limp. She still beat the shit out of him, breaking his nose and jaw with her escrima sticks. He slid down whimpering, and Call Girl yanked the machine gun away and tossed it into the dark warehouse. She stood up, breathing hard, as she scanned around.
"Shit, we missed one," she grunted. "Mysterion? Mysteri-Oh God..."
She raced up to him. Mysterion laid on the floor, propped up against a wooden table covered in chemicals. He held his stomach as blood gushed from multiple bullet wounds. He looked up at her as she knelt beside him, a wry grin on his face.
"Heh... Well... Fuck," he said, "guess we need to get better about recon, huh?"
"Oh God, oh God," Call Girl gasped. "Just-Just hang on!" She grabbed part of Mysterion's cape and bunched it up, pressing it hard against the wounds, "It's gonna be okay, Mysterion. I promise, it will be okay. I'm calling an ambulance-!"
"They got my liver and lung, at least," Mysterion replied softly, "death is ensured in about... Ten minutes? Maybe twenty. No ambulance is going to make it-"
"Shut up! Stop talking like that!" Call Girl shot back, applying as much pressure as she could. "You're going into shock, you need to elevate your legs-!"
"You always cared, you know? Even when we didn't talk to each other," Mysterion went on, "you still cared. Even back in preschool... I remember that. It was... I really liked it. I liked you. Ya know? Your strength too." He shrugged. "Then you hit puberty and the gym and... You just became hot. Like, so hot. Stan was a fucking idiot to lose you, ya know?"
"You-You should stop talking, Kenny," Call Girl said, her voice shaking, "you need to stay calm-Breathe deeply, it'll be okay-"
"The bitch of it is, it doesn't matter if I die for real," Mysterion went on sadly, "because you won't remember...."
"Remember what?!" Call Girl demanded. Mysterion looked up into her eyes, and smiled even as blood began to drool from his mouth.
"Any of this..." He sighed, "so, I may as well..."
"As well wha-Mmph?!" Call Girl would have cried out louder, but Kenny had pulled her into a kiss. It was warm, and wet, and tasted like blood and her heart still pounded like a drum holy shit...
Mysterion broke the kiss, and smiled at her.
"See you tomorrow," he murmured, as he began to cough up more blood. Call Girl screamed at him, moved his legs, tried to reach him however she could, but... It didn't do any good.
Which was a shame. She was beautiful when she cried. But he hated seeing her cry. Especially over him.
- - -
Wendy was a mess the next day at school. She had accompanied the paramedics all the way to Hell's Pass Hospital, where she'd watched anxiously as the doctors and nurses tried to revive Kenny. But it hadn't done any good-He was gone.
The police showed up soon after, and Wendy had to make herself scarce. She managed to crawl into bed at... 3 something? She'd pulled off her costume, turned on the shower, sat in the corner, and cried her eyes out.
She hadn't wanted to go to school, but... Finals were coming up and despite everything, she couldn't let anyone make the connection between her and Call Girl. Though with Kenny's death, that was only a matter of time.
Wendy trudged into South Park High School, staring blankly ahead. The rambunctious chatter of the other students was just a buzz in her mind, nothing she could latch onto. She bumped into someone, and looked up into the concerned face of Stan Marsh.
"Wendy? You okay?" He asked. Wendy wanted to open her mouth, say something... But no words would come. Stan looked even more concerned, and rested his hands on her shoulders.
"Wendy? What's wrong?" He asked.
I got one of your best friends killed last night, Wendy thought, but the words just didn't get to her lips. She felt tears threatening the corners of her eyes again. Stan's frown deepened.
"Hey, come on," he said, "it'll be okay. Let's just go talk about it somewhere. I'll get Kyle and Kenny-"
The tears erupted, and she had to bite her teeth down to contain a wail. She shut her eyes tightly.
No... No, you can't cry... You can't lose control, not now...!
"Wendy? Wendy!"
"Stan, if you're gonna make your bitchy ex cry, do it somewhere less embarrassing, huh?" Cartman snarked from his locker, "you're such a pussy."
"Fuck you Cartman!" Stan shot back.
"Hey, fuck you and her!" Cartman shot back. "Not my fault she's a fucking emotional wreck!"
Wendy clenched her fists and broke from Stan. She pulled back her fist, as Cartman saw and cringed. He still remembered how hard she'd beaten him up in their elementary school days, but if he was going to be this mouthy, he needed another lesson-!
"Woah! What's up, guys?"
Wendy froze. She turned and stared at the blonde boy in the orange parka. He smiled at her, his face for once uncovered by his hood.
Her jaw dropped as the rest of the world seemed to fade away. She didn't even notice Cartman scurry off with as much dignity as he could manage.
Stan walked up alongside her, and looked between Wendy and Kenny with a frown.
"Kenny, did you do something to upset Wendy?" Stan asked suspiciously. Kenny rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.
"Ah... Maybe," he said, "I mean, I do check her and the rest of the volleyball team out during practice every day. And when she's jogging. And when she's on the high beam. She sure knows how to handle a big piece of wood-"
Wendy grabbed Kenny by the collar, and dragged him away towards the stairs.
"Make an excuse for us, Stan!" Wendy shouted. Stan gaped after them.
"Wait, wha-?"
"MAKE AN EXCUSE!" She shouted as she hauled Kenny up the steps. Kyle stopped next to Stan, his eyebrows raised.
"Dare I ask what's going on now?" He inquired. Stan shook his head.
"Got me. Let's get to class."
- - -
Breaking onto the roof was no challenge for Wendy, and even in her agitated state she made sure the locks were put back properly so no one would be the wiser. That was the limit of her emotional control though, as she seized the taller Kenny by his shoulders and slammed him against the nearest air conditioner.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" She demanded. Kenny blinked at her.
"What the fuck what?" He asked.
"You know what-!" Wendy unzipped his parka and yanked up his shirt. She felt up his abs, and leaned in to look them over. Not a scar, not a blood splotch, not a trace of the bullets that had killed him. Nothing.
"You know, if you wanted me to strip, you just had to ask-" Kenny tried, but Wendy looked up at him in fury.
"WHY AREN"T YOU DEAD?!" She demanded.
Kenny's jaw dropped. All traces of his previous joviality vanished as he stared at her.
"Wait... You-You remember?" He whispered.
"Of course I remember! I was there! I held you as you died!" Wendy shrieked. "WHO COULD FORGET THAT?!"
Kenny... Immediately wrapped her in a tight hug. Wendy's tirade seemed to shatter, as she felt him nearly sob against her shoulder.
"You... Holy fuck, you remember," Kenny whispered, "holy fuck... I... You remembered this time."
"This... Time?" Wendy asked. "What the hell do you mean, this time?!"
Kenny let out a long sigh. He looked sad, and yet... Almost giddy. It was strange, an unfamiliar look on the usually joking, perverted boy's face.
"I... It's a long story," he managed.
"Then start talking. Now," Wendy ordered.
- - -
They found a crappy bench that someone had chucked on the roof rather than into a dumpster, and sat down. And Kenny... Told her everything.
About the Cthulhu cultist meetings his parents had gone to. About the battles for Heaven and Hell... And Earth. About every time he had ever died. When he was finished, Wendy just sat and stared at him, processing it all. Kenny just sat and stared back, looking almost relieved... But also anxious.
It took her longer than she thought to put together a response.
"That's fucked up."
Kenny grinned.
"Yeah... It is," he said. "I mean, a world of superpowers and monsters and demons and... Well, I'm the immortal one because my parents liked free beer."
Wendy slowly nodded, looking down at her hands. They were on her knees, clenching and unclenching almost involuntarily.
"You believe me?" Kenny asked. Wendy rolled her eyes.
"Kenny, after everything we've been through, how can you ask that?"
Kenny looked taken aback, then shrugged.
"I dunno. I've never... I've never had someone remember it. I wonder if that's a bad sign?"
"I hope not," Wendy said. She gave him a probing look. "I do have one... Main question."
"Yeah?" Kenny asked.
Wendy steeled herself.
"How many times have you died... Because of me?" She asked. Kenny frowned.
"What do you mean, because of you-?"
"I did the count wrong on those men," Wendy said, "and if you hadn't shoved me out of the way-"
Kenny grabbed her hands, and pulled them into his. He leaned forward and looked Wendy right in the eyes. He was serious now-As serious as he was while Mysterion. Like an old man in a younger man's skin. On his youthful face, it seemed... Out of place.
"Wendy, I can die and come back. It doesn't stick for me," Kenny admitted, "but for you, it will. I get second chances-you don't. So as far as I'm concerned? As long as you're still alive at the end of the day, it doesn't matter what happens to me. Because if I die, I'll be fine. You die? ... You won't."
Her heart fluttered in her chest again. Wendy sucked in a deep breath, holding his gaze.
"And... All those other things you said?" She asked softly.
Kenny actually blushed-It was pleasing to Wendy. Usually the perverted kid was the one making everyone else-her included-do that.
"Er, well... I thought you wouldn't remember," he admitted. "Boy, sure glad I died at that kiss."
"... Are you?" Wendy asked quietly. Kenny blinked... Then smiled.
"No. No, not really," he admitted. "... Did you like the kiss?"
"... Yes," she admitted, "but I... I mean, with you dying it was pretty gross-"
Kenny leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. She froze again, and her eyes slowly closed. He had some experience, more than her, by the way his tongue and lips worked against hers. But Wendy didn't mind.
Finally, Kenny broke the kiss. A thin string of saliva connected their lips, as they both panted for breath with red faces.
"... Better?" Kenny asked.
Wendy couldn't help a little grin.
"... Much."
- - -
Yeah, that just happened. I don't think I'll write more for this, as I've got too many other projects (as usual). But given the majority of South Park fanfiction is just shitty melodrama, I thought, what the hey? A crack pairing with superpowers. Why not?
I finally got it out of my system though.
