"You think I'm gonna let him stay here?" Tweek asked with a bitter humor, looking at Kenny while he threw his coat onto the couch, coming in not too long ago and regretting it. Kenny gave a single shouldered shrug.
"Yeah. Because he's a survivor. The killer could be out there looking for him."
Tweek gave Kenny a look with so much hatred and irritation that he'd remember it for days. "He's not blonde. I think he'll be okay."
"Tweek," Kenny stepped up to Tweek in the living room, the shorter blonde glaring at the man. "You have to accept that the killer is out there, not in here," he said. Kyle was here, in the house. He was in the bathroom washing his mouth out of the metallic blood taste that he said was staining his taste buds.
Tweek didn't move away from Kenny, which the man took as a good sign. Tweek looked into his eyes with his angry green, breathing heavily as he tried to reason with what information was wrong and true. He wanted Kyle to be the real killer. And that's why he didn't want him in his house. Because he could kill him.
"Please, Tweek," Kenny reached out to touch Tweek's arm, the blonde glancing at Kenny's hand but not moving away as expected. The blonde looked back into Kenny's eyes and almost said something, but then the toilet in the bathroom flushed, and the blonde tore himself away from Kenny. Kenny sighed. "Tweek."
"Forget it." Tweek headed straight to the kitchen just as Kyle left the bathroom, a hand over his ribs. He hissed in pain and Kenny glanced over.
"...You okay?" he asked the beautifully damaged redhead. Kyle looked over and shook his head before touching a hand to it.
"I never knew concussions could hurt so bad."
Kenny rose his eyebrows and gave a breath. "They do suck." He decided to walk over to Kyle, who leaned against the bathroom door and looked up at the man. Kyle gave a tiny, light smile.
"He didn't take it, did he?"
Kyle gave a half-assed shrug, though Kenny thought he could see the disappointment in the man's face, like he felt bad that he wasn't trusted, but he would never be caught looking down. Kenny reached out and put a hand on Kyle's hip, to get closer to him. The touch made Kyle give a nice little smile. "Is this how you make me feel better?" he asked teasingly. Kenny chuckled, which felt weird, because with everything going on right now, he wasn't the least bit happy. Kyle slipped his arms around Kenny's neck and pulled the man into a kiss, where Kenny could feel the wound on Kyle's lip. The dirty blonde broke the kiss.
"Did that hurt?" he asked. Kyle clicked his tongue and smiled shyly.
Kenny was going to distance himself so that Kyle could go and get some rest, but instead, the redhead kissed him again, deeply. And Kyle was too pretty to ignore when he was the initiator, so Kenny slipped his tongue into the redhead's mouth to taste more of him. Kyle moaned into the kiss, something that made Kenny's face heat up. The blonde stepped closer to Kyle and brought his hand up from the man's hip to underneath his shirt, where he felt his smooth, soft skin. Then Kyle cried out in pain and braced his hands on Kenny's chest to push him away some.
"That hurt," he said, Kenny's hand brushing over his bruised ribs. Kenny stepped back to look Kyle over.
"I can't take it anymore!" Tweek yelled loudly, and there was the shatter of glass, probably a coffee mug. The blonde threw another glass out of the kitchen into the living room, which hit the wall and shattered, but not failing to dent the sheet rock first. Kyle looked at the kitchen before looking at Kenny.
"What's wrong with him?" he asked, a little worried. Kenny just shook his head and sighed.
"He does that a lot. Tweek!" he called. Tweek came into the room looking down at his hand, which meant he'd most likely cut himself by throwing his fit. He looked up at Kenny and when he saw how close he was to Kyle, he narrowed his eyes at the two.
"Do not cahoot in my house."
"Tweek, that's not even what "cahoot" means."
"It doesn't matter! Ew, you two are in cahoots." Tweek stared at them for a moment, like he was processing why they were so close, before groaning loudly. "I'm done! I'm not staying here anymore! I'm going to the morgue!" The blonde walked quickly to his jacket, grabbing it and pulling it on. Kenny rolled his eyes.
"Tweek, you can't sleep in a morgue."
Tweek gave Kenny a very judging look. "I'm not sleeping there, you idiot!" His speech had started off normal, but then he must have remembered that he really, really didn't like Kenny at the moment, and heavily stressed the word "idiot".
Kyle sighed. "Okay, maybe-"
"Don't talk to me, Little Shortcake!" Tweek yelled angrily. Kenny crossed his arms.
"Tweek, knock it off. Are you going to stay the night with Henrietta?" he asked. Tweek looked like he wished he had another mug in his hand. He pointed at Kenny, looking very serious. Or... upset.
"Don't act like you know me. You left us a long time ago." Tweek glared at Kenny. "And you lied to me for almost a year, so you must really not care that much about us. Or you would have found the killer. So I'm going to find him." The blonde turned his glare onto Kyle, like he had already found the killer. In his mind, he did. Kyle just shook his head and looked away, though.
Before Kenny could say anything else to salvage the situation, Tweek stormed out of the house to his truck. After a moment of silence, Kyle looked at Kenny.
"...Should he actually go alone?"
Kenny huffed. "You're actually right; we should go after him. Or," he looked at Kyle and his beaten body. "...Maybe you should stay here and I go."
Kyle scoffed and pushed Kenny's shoulder. "I'm not staying here under surveillance alone. Just take me with you."
Kenny gave Kyle a skeptical look. He did like having Kyle with him, because he could probably keep him safe. It seemed like everything bad happened when Kyle was alone. He wasn't a killer though. He couldn't be. "Call Stan over," the blonde said. Kyle gave him a look before rolling his eyes, which made his head hurt a little.
"Fine. If you want me to stay here alone, I'll make sure the surveillance team gets a good look at me changing for bed." Kyle smirked and Kenny sucked his teeth. He grabbed the redhead and started walking him to his room for a jacket and change of clothes, since his attire was with the forensics team.
"Are you fucking serious," Tweek said when Kenny came into the morgue. He gave some irritated noise when Kyle came in behind the man.
"Well hello," Henrietta said, crossing her arms and looking the two over. She looked at Kenny. "We should have a talk later," she said, probably about Kenny hurting Tweek's feelings. Or at least, for Kenny making Tweek have a giant meltdown. Kyle pointed at the table behind she and Tweek.
"...Is that her? Is that Annie?" he asked. Henrietta stepped back to show the table, which held Annie on it. Her skin of her torso was pinned open, and her stomach organ lay in a metal tray.
"Well, since we're all having a party, let's gather up. Get over here, you two," she said and motioned Kenny and Kyle over. Kenny looked at the redhead, having second thoughts.
"Are you sure you want to be here?" he asked. Kyle nodded, but Kenny could see the hesitation in his eyes. Tweek scoffed from where he stood. They all moved to group around the corpse.
"So, there's nothing wrong with her internally, but I still need to check the brain," Henrietta said. She leaned over the table to point a scalpel at the deceased's lungs. "See these lines?" she asked, pointing at white lines that raked across Annie's organs. Tweek nodded. "They're-"
"Scarring. From pneumonia," Kyle said. Everyone looked at him, and he cleared his throat. "We learned about it in college; if you've ever had pneumonia, permanent scarring takes the lungs."
Henrietta watched him for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that's right. So," she looked back at the girl's lungs. "She had pneumonia some time in her life, probably early childhood."
"Does that have anything to do with her death?" Kenny asked. Henrietta scoffed.
"Then, why are we focusing on it?"
The goth gave him a look. "Because it's interesting. God, I swear- you and Micheal have no respect for the deceased."
Kenny scoffed this time, crossing his arms. "I have respect for the dead, I'm just not interested in random "fascinations"."
"Mm. My point exactly. So you wouldn't be surprised to see this, either." Henrietta stepped to the side to pull some gloves on, having taken her previous pair off to talk to Tweek, presumably. Tweek looked at Kenny through a glare.
"Now you did it, asshole."
Kenny gave Tweek a look. "Did what?"
"She's gonna show us something really gross because you can't keep your mouth shut!"
"Why would she-"
The woman came back to the three to end the bickering and smiled at them with her dark lips. "Ready for something... really cool?"
Kyle glanced at Kenny and Tweek, Tweek ignoring the redhead while Kenny sighed. "Sure, Henrietta."
Henrietta pointed at the organ tray, with the stomach. "So, I've already taken out the stomach, but you lovelies came by just before I could check out this morbid curiosity by myself. So I thought we'd all look at it together." She reached inside of Annie's open torso to push the girl's intestines to the side. "Normally I'd take these out first, but it tends to be a little messy, and I'm really excited. So, what do girls have that men don't?"
"I presume you're talking about that," Kyle said and pointed at a bloated organ. Henrietta hummed happily.
"...What is it?" Kenny asked. Tweek didn't know what it was, but he was queasy just by looking at it.
"It's her womb, she was pregnant," Kyle said. Henrietta nodded.
"That's exactly it." The goth started working to extract it, and Tweek gasped a little louder than necessary.
"But... why? Why did they kill her?" he asked. Henrietta shrugged.
"She put up one hell of a fight, though. I've extracted some skin from underneath her nails, so she probably scratched her attacker. I haven't dissected her head yet, but from my external observation, it looks like she suffered a severe fracture to the back of her skull. And since there aren't any other signs of trauma, that most likely means she died from the injuries to her head." She put her utensils down and gave a sound of triumph. "And, it's out." She brought the womb to a giant sink to rinse it, and then she lay it on another table. She beckoned the others to follow when they didn't.
"Don't get too close," she said once they came over. "It hasn't been long since she died, so her blood is relatively fresh. Which means messy."
She asked Tweek to click RECORD on her tape recorder, and then started speaking while cutting the womb open. "This is autopsy number 136 by lead coroner Henrietta Biggle, taking place in the Hell's Pass Hospital morgue, for the WPPD. Victim is female, late twenties; there is scarring on her lungs from a previous case of pneumonia, and as of now, 6:22 PM, the COD is blunt force trauma to the head, resulting in a third degree fracture to the back of the skull. I have retrieved skin samples from underneath the victim's nails, of an unidentified person that I have stored for forensic testing. The victim appears to be pregnant, and I am opening the womb now to determine how long."
Henrietta glanced at the others and winked, pulling the womb open. Fluids leaked out, and she reached inside to grab the fetus, pulling it out. Tweek breathed deeply through his nose and then decided to leave the room, slamming the doors shut behind him.
"The fetus looks to be at least seven weeks; there is no gender identification, nor trauma to the external body. It-"
Kenny turned to follow after Tweek, but Kyle grabbed his arm. "Kenny," he whispered, to avoid being on tape. "He probably needs to be alone."
Kenny looked at Kyle and shook his head, slipping out of the man's grip. "I'll be right back." With that, he left after Tweek, leaving Kyle to observe Henrietta's work alone.
In the hallway, Tweek was sitting on the floor and crying, his knees brought up to his chest as he sat against the wall. Kenny knelt beside him, but Tweek turned away and wiped his eyes. He didn't stop crying, though.
"...I know you're upset," Kenny said. Tweek shook his head bitterly, gazing the other way so that Kenny wouldn't see his face.
"That sick bastard killed her like she was nothing- She was alive, and then she just... I don't want to be alive and then dead just a second later," the blonde cried. Kenny reached out and put a hand on Tweek's shoulder, but Tweek slapped it away. He looked at Kenny with his tear-stained face, nose pink and eyes irritated. "You were supposed to help me catch the killer, not sleep with him and then let him kill Annie and almost kill Butters- Butters was your friend!" he spat, and then lashed out to push Kenny. Kenny caught himself with the wall. "You chose a murderer over me!" Tweek cried. Kenny shook his head and sighed.
"...Tweek, that wasn't supposed to happen, okay? What happened between us, it was really a mistake. And Kyle's not the killer."
Tweek glared at Kenny with his watery eyes, a tear spilling over. "I hate you," he said bitterly. "I hate you, I hate you-"
"I hate you! I hate who you are! I like Ralph more than I like you, and he isn't even real! He at least tried helping me solve the case, while you just sabotage it!" Tweek pushed Kenny again. Kenny grabbed one of Tweek's wrists.
"Why is Kyle the killer, huh? Tell me why! What directly links him to the murders?"
"He went to college where the murders first started! He left South Park when the molesting stopped! What color is his carpeting, since you slept with him!" Tweek tried tearing his arm away, but Kenny kept a tight hold. Tweek started hitting Kenny with his other hand.
"It's pink just like half of everyone else's in town! You're only accusing him because I'm with him instead of with you, right? Isn't that it? You said that Kyle wasn't a suspect until I started seeing him!"
Tweek slapped Kenny, and Kenny squeezed the blonde's wrist tightly in anger before letting him go and standing up.
"...Henrietta's done with the autopsy," Kyle said from the doors to the morgue. How much he had seen was a mystery, but it was evident that he had in fact seen some of the argument. Tweek got up quickly and rushed at Kyle to shove him, making the redhead hit the doors with a cry of pain from his ribs.
"Why didn't you see the killer! Why didn't he kill you!" Tweek yelled as he was pulled away from Kenny. Kyle watched Tweek with the utmost confusion and shook his head.
"...I'm sorry," he said. "They came out of nowhere." Tweek launched for him again, but Kenny held him back, arms wrapped around the blonde's torso to hold him at bay.
"It was you!" Tweek screamed.
"Tweek, stop it! He's a victim too!" Kenny yelled at Tweek. Tweek looked back at Kenny to spit at him.
The doors behind Kyle came open and Henrietta stepped out. She held up the bone fragment that Tweek had brought her from the burned house in North Park. "I can't tell if this is animal or human; I'm not a bone expert, and it's too small to let me know anything about it. I'm sorry. But I also can't have some sissies fighting in my morgue, alright? So either you all cool it, or you get the hell out," she said stiffly, but seriously. Kenny let Tweek go and the blonde looked like he was going to attack Kyle, but he didn't and just looked like a feral cat. Henrietta watched them all for a moment before continuing speaking.
"Annie had a brain tumor; if you're upset about her dying pregnant, don't be. That thing would have killed her before she was even at five months, cool? Cool. So that leaves your question, Tweek, as to why she was attacked. I. Don't. Know. There are always two theories when something like this happens in a serial killer case. 1: It's to throw us off because we're getting too close to him, her, it, them. So they're changing the MO, which makes solving this case ten times harder. And option 2: She was in the wrong place, in the wrong fucking time." Henrietta watched Tweek's face carefully. "There's never a reason as to why people are killed, they just are. That tumor was gonna kill her and her baby anyway; this murderer just got her first."
Tweek stared at Henrietta through glaring eyes before nodding solemnly and turning, and simply leaving. The woman looked at Kenny and Kyle. "Micheal and the WPPD are coming to get the autopsy report since it's done. That means you two should go, too," she said. The two turned to leave, but she grabbed Kenny, stopping him in his tracks. Kyle didn't notice and kept on. "Tweek's right to keep Kyle as a suspect, as much as you might hate it. So you should, too," she said to him. Kenny watched her before slipping out of her grip.
"I trust him."
"That's not your job. Your job is to find out who the killer is. Not to protect anyone. Don't let him get in the way of all of this work. We've tried so hard for this long, and if you ruin it all, I will personally kill you."
Kenny watched her before leaving after Kyle.
"You said the body was done," Micheal said in annoyance, watching Henrietta stitch Annie's body closed. The woman looked at him briefly before continuing, ignoring him. He crossed his arms. "You have to answer to me."
Henrietta laughed. "We're in 2017, I don't have to answer to anyone. Least of all a misogynist."
Micheal glared at her as she worked. David was getting the transferring van ready for the body, and Mike stood outside with the rest of the team, waiting until the body was ready to move, because Henrietta had gotten ahead of herself.
"Was her hyoid bone fractured or broken?" he asked.
"So she wasn't strangled."
"I need details, Biggel."
"And I need a raise."
Micheal hit his hand against the table hard, making the sound echo in the room from the metal tabletop. Henrietta breathed through her nose and turned to look at Micheal.
"What is it, Sweetie?" she asked teasingly. Micheal reached out and grabbed her around the throat with a hand, holding her firmly and looking her in the eye.
"Do not annoy me, Biggel. I can be just as bad to you as I am anyone else."
Henrietta watched Micheal. "Not to me."
"Especially to you." Micheal tightened his grip until Henrietta adjusted herself in discomfort. Micheal felt her press something just underneath his exposed armpit, watching him with a strictness.
"Knights would stab their enemy under the armpit, because it was a straight shot to the heart and killed them instantly. My surgical blade isn't that long, but it's enough to make you hurt very, very badly," Henrietta whispered against Micheal, her airway slightly snuffed. Micheal watched her for a long moment before letting her go, shoving her so that she hit Annie's autopsy table, and almost knocking it over.
"Finish this up. The sooner I get that corpse to my district, the sooner I can forget your face," he said. Henrietta smirked at him, although she was upset.
"You wish you could forget me."
Micheal's phone rang and he answered it, walking away from Henrietta. "What."
It was a girl from his forensic lab, who cleared her throat. "The DNA results have come in. It's a match for Kenny McCormick."
"And?" They'd already established that by fingerprinting. That Ralph Coffee was a dead man and that the man assuming his identity was Kenny, under some... strange resurrecting circumstances.
"Um... It also pinged for another blood sample that we had put into the database earlier. It's the sample from the woods. ...From-"
"...I did, Sir. It's a match for Mysterion."
"You're sure I can stay the night here?" Kyle asked, laying beside Kenny in bed. Kenny nodded.
"Tweek should be getting over it, he was probably just tired."
Kyle closed his eyes. "...I feel bad. That I can't tell him who it was."
Kenny sighed. "Don't, don't do that. It was a sneak attack. And, you barely came out safe- Butters is in a coma, and Annie's dead."
"...I know. But so's her baby." Kyle opened his eyes to look at Kenny again. Kenny rolled onto his side and perched up on his elbow to look at the redhead.
"Henrietta said that she had a brain tumor, they wouldn't have made it anyway," he said, looking over Kyle's freckles and bruises.
"I have just as much medical knowledge as her, Kenny, and I didn't see a tumor. I... think she just said that to make Tweek feel better."
Kenny blinked study furrowed his eyebrows, his mood of admiration quickly dissipating into an uneasiness in his gut. "...What?"
Kyle nodded and brought a hand up to feel Kenny's shirt. "I'm sure she lied. I didn't see even the start of a tumor." He looked at Kenny's face, the blonde watching him with a new found guilt.
So the tumor was a lie. That meant that Tweek was right. That, if Kenny had found the killer, Annie wouldn't have been killed.
"Are you still thinking about it?" Kyle asked softly. "...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"
"No, I just..." Kenny dropped to lay back down, on his back. He sighed deeply and looked up at the ceiling. "I just don't know what to do anymore. I mean... Who would actually want to do all of this?"
Kyle twisted his lips and shook his head before closing his eyes again, sleepiness from his concussion trying to take him. "Henrietta said it; people just die. People just kill. Maybe you should leave it to Micheal."
"Micheal," Kenny scoffed. "I don't know what happened to make him such a prick."
Kyle opened his eyes to peek at the blonde. "Did you not hear? I don't know the legistics, but Firkle died a long time ago; unrelated to the murders. I guess Micheal and Henrietta were working together on the case, but something got botched and it was just dismissed. He was still an asshole before that, but... Hey," he scoot closer to Kenny and lay his head on the blonde's chest. "Just let everyone do their jobs. This isn't your job."
"...I know," Kenny said. "I just want to make up for leaving." He looked down at Kyle, who offered the man a light smile. That was all. There were no words of comfort from the redhead. He just put a hand on Kenny's shoulder and closed his eyes again to rest. Kenny pressed his lips together and looked at the ceiling again.
He woke up in the early morning, the window still showing a dark sky of stars through its glass. It must have been five, maybe working up to six in the morning. Beside him, Kyle lay sleeping, having rolled during the night.
Kenny watched Kyle for a moment to see if he would wake up before slipping out of the bed when he wouldn't be noticed. He left the room and decided to check on Tweek, to make sure that he was actually resting, or at least beginning to forgive him if still awake.
The guilt of the whole case and the fact that Kenny had started it, must have woken him up. He needed to talk to someone. Preferably Tweek, because he was counting on Kenny to help him. Because they had been partners in this for a long while.
The house was dark and silent from the early of the morning, but Kenny managed to make it upstairs, where he left to Tweek's bedroom.
Opening the door, he peeked inside to see the blonde laying in bed, his back to the door to most likely hide himself from Kenny in his stubbornness. Kenny still entered, though, and walked over to the bed, where he sat down on the edge of the mattress beside the other blonde. He looked at the floor.
"I know, that you're mad at me," he said softly, because the house was deafeningly quiet. "And you have every right to be. I just... I fucked up, I know I did, alright?" He sighed and glanced to the side, so that he could see Tweek laying in bed, ignoring him. Kenny looked back to the floor.
"...I'm sorry, that none of this went how you planned. I didn't mean for any of this either. And I... I know you like me, and I'm sorry that you do, because I'm pitiful. I really am. I," Kenny leaned forward on his knees and gave another breath. "I'm just a really, really shitty person. You've done a lot for me, and I've just been... so stupid. It really hurt though, hearing you say that you hate me. My mom always said that "Hate's a strong word", and... I don't know if I'll be okay with you hating me. Because I like you too," he said, and brought a hand up to run through his hair, closing his eyes.
"I like you, too. But I don't want to hurt you anymore. And I'm already a disappointment, so once I find this killer, I'll just leave, okay? But... I just don't want you to hate me." Kenny looked back at Tweek.
He would leave. Because he was despicable and caused all of this mess, so he would finish what he came to do and then leave, and hopefully Tweek would be okay with that. Because he did... he liked Tweek too, like Tweek had liked him. But he was selfish and stupid, and had always liked Kyle, and he couldn't give him up now that he finally had him. ...Even for Tweek, who had made him fall for him, too.
"...Will you say something, Tweek? I can't... live, knowing that you hate me," Kenny said. Because he already hated himself too much. He reached out to touch Tweek's shoulder, but the blonde didn't do anything. "Are you asleep, Tweek?" he asked quietly, depressingly. He leaned over the bed to look at Tweek's face, the morning sun starting to shine barely through the windows.
But it was enough to see the blueish tint of Tweek's lips as Kenny peered at him. The man blinked and pulled Tweek onto his back, where he caught just a glimpse of pale flesh and dull lips, and bruising on his throat, before being struck over the head.
Kenny fluttered his eyes open to see a pale ceiling. There was a distant pain in his head, but it didn't matter compared to the pain he felt in the rest of his body. He rolled his head to the side to look around at his surroundings, his head throbbing and impairing his vision.
He was on a bed, by the height between him and the floor. The floor, of pink carpeting. Not just that. The floor that-
"You're awake now?" Kyle asked, walking into Kenny's vision. He was still in Kenny's clothes from the trip to the morgue. Kenny swallowed, his throat dry. His heart pounded out of his chest.
"What's going on?" The blonde asked, his voice coming out ruined by all of the emotions running throughout his body. Kyle sat beside him on the bed, like he himself had Tweek.
"Well, we're at home," Kyle said. He reached out and put a hand on Kenny's cheek, where he caressed the skin. Kenny tried sitting up in the bed, but then he learned that he was incapable. His hands were bound to the bed posts. "Tweek must be happy," the redhead breathed, "because he was right. So, that's one happy dead soul."
Kenny shook his head, watching Kyle, his vision distorted. "It's not you; is this a dream? Did you- Tweek-"
"Don't think too hard or you'll stress yourself. And I don't want you to stress out," Kyle spoke. He turned to start climbing further onto the bed, and then he sat over Kenny's lap, straddling the disoriented man.
"What are you-"
"What I've wanted to do. For a long time." Kyle smiled to Kenny, but it didn't look right through the man's ruined vision. "...When I killed Mysterion back at Bamcoe's, I... really told myself that I was gonna try and stop. You know. Because I was tired. Of all of the disappointments. It doesn't matter how many blondes, I just... They weren't you." The redhead watched Kenny's face, studying his expression. "Don't look at me like that," he said, "I was gonna stop. But then you told me that Ralph was a fake name, and that you were Mysterion, and Kenny, and I-" Kyle closed his eyes. "Was so happy."
"You..." Kenny tried to reason with things. He was tied up in Kyle's bedroom. "Killed Bradley..." he murmured, watching Kyle as the redhead started playing with Kenny's shirt. The redhead nodded, looking down at the clothing.
"I couldn't help myself. It was like-"
"You were excited." Henrietta's words during Bradley's autopsy rang into Kenny's head. "Either something made the killer mad, or excited. A crime of passion". Kyle leaned down over Kenny and pressed their foreheads together.
"Exactly," he said, closing his eyes. Kenny could feel a hand on his stomach, feeling him through his clothes. It hurt, like the rest of his body. Like he had been beaten up.
He probably had. Kenny tried to clear his thoughts and a shaky breath came from his lips as he remembered Tweek again.
He had in the utmost devastatingly way possible, failed Tweek. And not only failed him, but killed him. "Is Tweek dead," he asked, tremors of sad disappointment racking throughout his body. Kyle looked at him with his jade eyes.
"Why wouldn't he be?" Kyle then pressed his lips to Kenny's, slipping his hand underneath the blonde's shirt to touch his skin. Kenny turned his head away to break the kiss, which made Kyle sit up and narrow his eyes at him. "You said that you wanted me, so why are you upset now? You owe me for leaving me behind like this- you made me like this. Take responsibility."
"I didn't make you kill anyone," Kenny said bitterly, tears stinging his eyes.
He had honestly let everyone down. Tweek was dead.
"What's wrong with you," he cried softly, closing his eyes and shaking his head. Kyle frowned.
"You. I want you."
"Just kill me!" Kenny yelled angrily, and tried getting Kyle off of him by twisting his hips. The redhead glared at him.
"... Fine. Just like Bradley. I'll make it hurt."
Kyle put his hands around Kenny's throat and started squeezing
When Kenny woke up again, he felt refreshed, but only physically. His mentality was ruined, with guilt.
He lay in the snow at Stark's pond, his revival spot. Because he had died. After multiple, various abuse that he didn't want to think about, because the things he had felt were haunting.
Before he sat up in the snow at all, footsteps crunched over in the snow, and then Kyle peered down at him. In his hand at his side, rope.
Because he was the only one Kenny had told about Stark's pond.
"Ready for another round?"
Micheal rode with David to Tweek's house, with some more squad cars on the way, because Mysterion was a wanted criminal, and he'd be damned if he let him slip from under his thumb. Especially because Mysterion was Kenny. And he didn't like Kenny. Not when he was tampering with his investigation.
The surveillance team hadn't been answering, which was strange, but the unknown fear didn't settle in until they got to the house to see the surveillance cars.
Burning. They were on fire. With people in them, was up for debate. David's mouth fell open. "What happened?" he asked. Micheal bit his cheek.
"Call for the fire department and some buses." The lead detective parked the car and got out, leaving David to make the calls, while he left to the house.
He didn't knock; there was no need to. The surveillance team's Cara were on fire, with a serial killer on the loose, and a man he wanted to make an arrest on inside. He tried opening the door, but it was locked, by far too many locks for him to bust it open.
The man walked to a window and shattered it open with his elbow, before pushing the large pieces inside so that he could climb through with minimal damage.
Once he was inside, he started calling out and looking around the house, with his gun drawn. "McCormick! Tweak!"
It didn't matter how many times he called: the house was silent. The sun was shining enough for him to see in the dark house, and he went upstairs after the downstairs was a bust. Where he found Tweek, lying in his bed, motionless. He ran over and put his gun down to check for a pulse, but there was none. He didn't waste any time and started CPR.