Beginnings, Middles and Ends
folder
+S through Z › South Park › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,939
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › South Park › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,939
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 03
Endings
a conclusion or termination
a concluding part; a finale
Kenny was scared.
He was dieing. He knew it. He could feel it in his bones. And he was frightened of what it meant.
He was ninety-five years old, grey, gnarled and alone. So alone.
Kyle had passed on almost two weeks ago, just shy of his ninety-sixth birthday. Kenny had celebrated it for him, alone, tears on his face as he blew out the single candle; looking at the photograph of them together, taken almost forty years before - when they had finally, legally, been allowed to marry.
In the photo, they were both wearing white suits, black ties, their hair styled just so.
Stan and his family had attended, of course, all smiles and laughter.
Cartman, by then, had already been dead 13 years - a heart attack at forty.
Stan was gone now too, though, two years ago.
Kenny was the last of them. The boys from South Park.
It made him laugh to think of it. Him. Kenny. The boy who repeatedly cheated death. Now a wizened old man, alone and scared at last.
He went about his days feeling the ache in his bones, the rasp in his lungs, dragging the IV along behind him.
Kenny was in a care home; he and Kyle had lived here together, in a twin apartment, for the past five years. They had no children, no grandchildren, who could look after them in their old age. They had been prepared and secured the apartment a decade ago.
But they hadn't prepared for this. For Kyle going first and leaving Kenny alone, to face his Last Death without his support, his love, his understanding.
What would happen if he came back?
What would happen if he kept coming back? Living forever in an increasingly withered body?
Kenny had been able to face these questions when his Kyle had been with him. But now?
He was scared.
Painstakingly slowly, he changed into his pyjamas and lowered himself into his bed. As he tucked the duvet around his body, he looked over at Kyle's empty, neat bed. Felt a pang in his chest.
Loneliness. That was the worst part. With his Kyle gone, he was so lonely.
He reached up, switched the lamp off. Told the computer, gruffly, to awaken him at seven ay emm and then lay back.
He lay watching the stars through the skylight, for what felt like hours, listening to his own rasping breaths, the low rattle of his chest, the soft, soft sound of the IV dripping.
He knew it would be soon. He missed his Kyle too much.
Put simply, there was nothing left for him here, just the nurses and the silent-unless-spoken-too computers.
Why should he stay?
The only thing holding him back now, was the almost crippling fear that he would come back and keep coming back, never to rest, for eternity.
He closed his eyes, thought of his Kyle.
There was the possibility that he would go wherever Kyle had gone.
That was a comforting thought.
In the silence of the apartment, a light began to flicker on the view screen, signalling an alert to the nurses.
Kenny's breathing slowed, his face slackened - first in sleep - and then, almost an hour later, he took his last breath, released it and passed away.
----
When he opened his eyes, there was his Kyle.
He was tiny, no more than four in appearance, and his face was streaked with tears.
For a moment, Kenny had no idea where he was. Then he looked up and behind Kyle and saw his parent's old home. His old home.
This was where his First Death had happened.
He sniffled and his Kyle jumped, looked up at him, surprise in his features. They stared at each other for a moment and then burst into tears, throwing themselves at each other, clinging to one another.
And as he held his Kyle with a vice-like grip, happy beyond all else that he could hold his Kyle again, the memories of adulthood began to fade.
Kenny was once again a four year old boy, holding on to the one thing in his existence that was constant.
~Fin~
3/3
a conclusion or termination
a concluding part; a finale
Kenny was scared.
He was dieing. He knew it. He could feel it in his bones. And he was frightened of what it meant.
He was ninety-five years old, grey, gnarled and alone. So alone.
Kyle had passed on almost two weeks ago, just shy of his ninety-sixth birthday. Kenny had celebrated it for him, alone, tears on his face as he blew out the single candle; looking at the photograph of them together, taken almost forty years before - when they had finally, legally, been allowed to marry.
In the photo, they were both wearing white suits, black ties, their hair styled just so.
Stan and his family had attended, of course, all smiles and laughter.
Cartman, by then, had already been dead 13 years - a heart attack at forty.
Stan was gone now too, though, two years ago.
Kenny was the last of them. The boys from South Park.
It made him laugh to think of it. Him. Kenny. The boy who repeatedly cheated death. Now a wizened old man, alone and scared at last.
He went about his days feeling the ache in his bones, the rasp in his lungs, dragging the IV along behind him.
Kenny was in a care home; he and Kyle had lived here together, in a twin apartment, for the past five years. They had no children, no grandchildren, who could look after them in their old age. They had been prepared and secured the apartment a decade ago.
But they hadn't prepared for this. For Kyle going first and leaving Kenny alone, to face his Last Death without his support, his love, his understanding.
What would happen if he came back?
What would happen if he kept coming back? Living forever in an increasingly withered body?
Kenny had been able to face these questions when his Kyle had been with him. But now?
He was scared.
Painstakingly slowly, he changed into his pyjamas and lowered himself into his bed. As he tucked the duvet around his body, he looked over at Kyle's empty, neat bed. Felt a pang in his chest.
Loneliness. That was the worst part. With his Kyle gone, he was so lonely.
He reached up, switched the lamp off. Told the computer, gruffly, to awaken him at seven ay emm and then lay back.
He lay watching the stars through the skylight, for what felt like hours, listening to his own rasping breaths, the low rattle of his chest, the soft, soft sound of the IV dripping.
He knew it would be soon. He missed his Kyle too much.
Put simply, there was nothing left for him here, just the nurses and the silent-unless-spoken-too computers.
Why should he stay?
The only thing holding him back now, was the almost crippling fear that he would come back and keep coming back, never to rest, for eternity.
He closed his eyes, thought of his Kyle.
There was the possibility that he would go wherever Kyle had gone.
That was a comforting thought.
In the silence of the apartment, a light began to flicker on the view screen, signalling an alert to the nurses.
Kenny's breathing slowed, his face slackened - first in sleep - and then, almost an hour later, he took his last breath, released it and passed away.
----
When he opened his eyes, there was his Kyle.
He was tiny, no more than four in appearance, and his face was streaked with tears.
For a moment, Kenny had no idea where he was. Then he looked up and behind Kyle and saw his parent's old home. His old home.
This was where his First Death had happened.
He sniffled and his Kyle jumped, looked up at him, surprise in his features. They stared at each other for a moment and then burst into tears, throwing themselves at each other, clinging to one another.
And as he held his Kyle with a vice-like grip, happy beyond all else that he could hold his Kyle again, the memories of adulthood began to fade.
Kenny was once again a four year old boy, holding on to the one thing in his existence that was constant.
~Fin~
3/3