South Park doesn't belong to me.

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The McCormick's pantry was a sad, lonely little place.

With just a box of cereal, a few packages of instant ramen and a plastic shaker of bacon bits laid out across the middle shelf, it had to be one of the sorriest collections of food Kyle had ever seen. Honestly, their school did better gathering Thanksgiving food items for the homeless each year.

With a sigh that he hoped wasn't too loud, Kyle grabbed the box of Fruity Pebbles knock-offs and shut the rickety pantry door.

"What the fuck? You're taking my food again?"

Kyle looked back at his host, the only blonde McCormick, sprawled across the living room couch.

"My blood sugar is low." He said with a shrug, ignoring the quiet, frustrated noises Kenny made in response.

Also, he was just kind of hungry. He could have been at home preparing himself a proper late-lunch, but if he went back home now his mother would likely skin him. She was in one of her moods today and Kyle did not want to be around to witness any of her tirades or temper tantrums.

Hence, a visit to his good friend Kenny's house.

Gone were the days of refusing to come see Kenny in his ramshackle "ghetto" home. When they were kids, Kenny's family had been scary and his home lacking, and no one really wanted to spend the night, much less any time there at all. These days, no one was particularly bothered by Kenny's house. A few years of maturing had taught the boys that hanging out with your friends could still be fun, even without the latest game system.

Kenny's parents still scared the crap out of Kyle, though. Not to mention, they made him feel awkward and slightly unwelcome. Kenny really only invited him over when his parents were out, and Kyle was completely fine with that.

"You know we don't have that much food." Kenny muttered, "What? Do you want me to be even more scrawny than I already am?"

Kyle could feel Kenny watching him as he poured multi-colored, heavily sugared pieces of cereal into a bowl, "You're not scrawny."

Just kind of thin, was all. It suited him, though. Kenny's body type wasn't meant to carry much weight anyway. He was just kind of small and kind of underweight.

And now Kyle felt guilty. Great.

"I'll buy you more cereal if you want, dude." He offered, already on his way to the fridge to get the milk, "I just really need to eat something right now."

They were kind of running low on milk, too. Kyle began making a mental grocery list.

He poured a little bit of milk into his bowl of cereal, not wanting to steal all of it, then capped the half-gallon container and put it back in the fridge where it belonged.

"Fine, fine." Kenny said, sounding somewhat exasperated, "But really… I don't see why you can't just go into a coma, or whatever it is you do."

Kyle flipped him off from behind the fridge and the answering laughter assured him that Kenny had seen. After grabbing a spoon out of the drying rack beside the sink, Kyle made his way back to the living room and flopped down onto the couch beside his friend, narrowly missing Kenny's legs.

They were quiet for a while, Kyle focusing on mixing his cereal into the milk to get it evenly moistened, and Kenny still smirking over the small victory of irritating Kyle.

Then,

"You don't have to buy me cereal, you know."

Kyle looked up and into Kenny's eyes. Seeing them looking suddenly cold and serious was startling, and Kyle wasn't sure how to react.

"I know." He said as nonchalantly as he could.

But he would anyway.

Kenny's expression softened and he smiled slightly. He pulled his legs up to his chest, arching his back as he stretched and re-positioned himself.

For being so old and beaten up, the McCormick couch was pretty comfortable. It was a little ratty in places, but Kyle guessed that just gave it character or something gay like that. It was just as familiar as the couch in the Marsh's living room, or the couch that had been in his own family's living room up until the time when Ike hit his head on the hard, wooden base and their mother freaked out and insisted on replacing all the living room furniture with big, obnoxiously fluffy grandma-style stuff.

Kyle still kind of missed that old couch.

Halfway through his cereal, and a replay of a fond memory of Cartman falling off that old couch and landing in a bowl of popcorn, Kyle looked up at the sound of his name.

Kenny was staring at him with that serious look again and Kyle knew instantly that he was fucked.

"Does it bother you that I die all the time?"

Oh man. This really couldn't be good. Kenny never got like this. Not unless something was really bothering him, and something obviously was. But what exactly was he getting at with a question like that?

"What…do you mean?" Kyle asked, unable to keep from cringing a little. He knew that aside from an occasional angry outburst, Kenny usually liked to play the passive-aggressive game. This conversation felt like the perfect passive-aggressive trap.

"Exactly what I said." Kenny frowned in just such a way as to suggest that Kyle was currently failing whatever test he was being put through.

"Eh…." Kyle played with the cereal left in his bowl, searching his brain for the right thing to say, "It doesn't…bother me. I mean, like, it doesn't annoy me, if that's what you mean. I know you'll always come back, so…."

That was what Kenny meant, right? Kyle looked to his friend questioningly.

Shit, that was not a happy smile. That was a 'please fuck off and die' smile.

"Well, as long as I'm not inconveniencing you."

Shit, shit, shit.

"Aw, c'mon, dude. I didn't mean it like that."

Kenny looked back at him expectantly.

Goddamnit. Why wasn't Stan the one doing this? Stan was always so much better at talking to people, calming them down. Hell, he always worked wonders on Kyle.

"I mean…well…fuck. What do you want me to say?"

Kenny wasn't making this easy for him. Kyle wasn't even sure what he'd done wrong to begin with. Kenny didn't really care that much about the cereal, did he? Because Kyle would gladly give it back to him if only he could.

"Do you care when I die?"

Kenny said the words slowly, with an even tone. He didn't even sound angry, but Kyle knew better. Somewhere, deep down, Kenny was furious.

Before the question had time to really sink in, Kyle was answering with an enthusiastic, "Yes!"

And Kenny just kept staring at him.

"What? Dude, Kenny, I really do care!"

Kenny stopped staring.

"Oh my god, they killed Kenny!" he mocked, holding his hands up as though shocked, then jerked one arm forward, pointing at a random point on the wall, "You bastards!"

Kyle could feel himself blushing as he averted his eyes, staring down into the sugary, pulpy mess that used to be his cereal. He didn't even want to think about how Kenny knew about that. The whole idea brought on questions about the afterlife that Kyle simply didn't want to try to answer right now.

"We really do care." He said lamely, "You just…you die, like, every two days, you know?"

Kenny scoffed, hunching over with his arms folded across his knees, hiding his face in the sleeve of his jacket, "Still dead."

The muffled sound of the words reminded Kyle of a younger Kenny and only served to make him feel like more of a dick.

"We…we can't be in mourning every day." He said quietly.

Kenny was being unreasonable if he thought his friends should be sobbing over his corpse every five seconds. Sure, Kyle was always a little upset when his friend died, but he always came back. By now, tt was a natural thing for them.

After a long silence, Kyle heard a mumbled, "I know."

Sighing, he placed his bowl of cereal-mush on the floor and turned around to fully face his friend.

"What do you want, then?"

There was another mumbled response and it took a moment for Kyle to decipher it. He'd gotten a little rusty at understanding muffled-Kenny over the years.

"Show we care? Dude, at least we take notice. I mean, pretty much everyone else ignores that you die all the time."

Kenny's 'hmph' of a response poked Kyle's quick temper teasingly.

"At least Stan and I say something, I mean, the fatass doesn't even-"

Kenny moved to quickly unmuffle himself.

"I'm not saying you're worse friends than Cartman, I'm saying you all fucking suck!"

Kyle could feel that his mouth was still hanging open but he didn't care to shut it.

Owch.

Talk about an angry outburst. That one had kind of hurt. A lot.

And apparently Kenny realized it, because he made short work of sitting up and looking apologetic.

"Dude, I didn't really mean that."

Kyle finally closed his mouth and swallowed, "Yeah…I know."

Too late, though. The damage was done. Kyle officially felt like shit.

Kenny spoke quickly and quietly, still hugging his knees to his chest.

"Seriously, I didn't mean that. You guys are my best friends- the best friends I could ever ask for. I just get frustrated 'cause I die all the time and no one notices, you know? I mean, when I come back, it's like I was never gone. My parents act like nothing ever happened, and then when I go to school teachers just tell me off for being absent, even though I was fuckin' dead." He smiled a small smile that looked ridiculously innocent placed under the smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, "You guys really are the only ones who care."

Kyle knew that Kenny was trying to make everything better, to seem happy and content and not at all like a whiney little emo kid, but he couldn't shake what had already been said. Kenny was disappointed in him as a friend. He wasn't doing a good enough job.

They were both pretty surprised when suddenly, out of nowhere, they were hugging. Kyle had his arms wrapped tight around Kenny's thin shoulders and the blonde boy was trying to find a place to put his own arms that wouldn't make this seem any gayer than it already was.

"Um…."

Kyle silenced Kenny by tightening his hug.

"I'm sorry, dude. Really. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel insignificant, or like I didn't care, because I do. You're one of my best friends and I never meant to make you feel like you didn't matter."

Kyle's chest hurt a little and he felt like a dork for doing this, but he thought it was the right thing to do. He'd hurt Kenny's feelings, and now he had to make up for it.

Kenny murmured a 'thanks' into Kyle's shoulder, and after the hugging became too awkward for either of them to bear, they released each other and Kyle scooted back to the other side of the couch.

"You didn't have to do that, you know." Kenny said, glancing sideways to meet Kyle's gaze across the couch.

Kyle shrugged his shoulders, "Yeah, but I wanted to. I at least owe you a hug, right?" He smiled, embarrassed, and added, "Just don't tell the other guys, okay?"

Kenny grinned back at him, raising his eyebrows teasingly, then gave his friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"I won't mention it."

Of course he wouldn't. Neither of them wanted to be made fun of for hugging like a couple of girls. They'd keep this between themselves, the way moments like that were meant to be kept.

"Cool." Kyle said as he got up and grabbed his cereal from off the floor, "Anyway, now that that's over with, let's go do something."

He walked the few feet into the kitchen to drop the bowl and spoon in the sink, hearing Kenny call after him, "Like what?"

"Like…I don't know. You want to go see a movie?"

Kenny cocked his head to the side, looking confused.

"A movie? I don't think I can."

Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged his shoulders, "I can pay for you. If you want.

Kenny eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding.

"Okay. I guess a movie sounds good." He chewed at his lower lip, considering the plan at hand, before adding, "If you really don't mind…."

Kyle removed one hand from his pocket to wave it at Kenny, blowing off his concern.

"Nah, it's cool. Now c'mon, let's go."

A minute later they were out the door, on their way to forget about any arguments that might have taken place over an afternoon of overpriced candy and crappy action movie excitement.

Kyle Broflovski's guilt trip had begun.

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Second chapter is on its way~