Title: Falling out of Disarray

Genre: Mystery/Drama (With a hint of Romance)

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I no own

Summary: Slightly AU. – "This city needs a hero." Easy words to say. You haven't dealt with a real villain yet. – Bunny, Style, Candy, Creek, etc.

Warning: This has boy-love along with some het, coupling includes – Bunny, Style, Candy, Creek, Tobe, Chregory, and Clyred

A BIG THANK YOU to my beta Hot Monkey Brain, I love you!

1

The Death of a Hero

It was all over the front of the newspapers by that afternoon, as well as on the television. There was no news station that wasn't mentioning it, wasn't talking about it, it was everywhere. An up-and-coming reporter by the name of Kenneth McCormick had been the one to find the body earlier that morning on his way home from a late night of work.

The Coon, one of the cities most famous heroes, had been found dead. His heart and stomach had both been carved out of his body, leaving his chest cavity gaping, and his ribs pried apart in the most grotesque manner. His body was left in a dingy side alley, and it was only chance that Kenny had stumbled upon it on his way home. The alleyway was usually a shortcut for the reporter, but when he saw The Coon he immediately took his cell phone out and called the police. After that conversation was done with he took a few photos of the alley where he found the Coon's body for work, it was heartless and soulless, but Kenny honestly needed the money. He didn't take any pictures of The Coon himself however, because no one needed to see that. The cops got on the scene as the sun was rising. Leaning against the brownstone building, Kenny took out a cigarette to calm his nerves; otherwise he was afraid he was going to spill them all over the pavement.

Once the police were done asking him questions, telling him to not even think about leaving town because he was a suspect until they proved otherwise, he made his way up into his cramped apartment, wrote a story to go with the photos and sent them to his boss. Afterwards he threw up everything that had been in his stomach over the past two days. A cool hand came and pulled his hair out of his face as the retched, while the other rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

"You alright Ken?" His roommate (which was a title that had always made Kenny chuckle in the past since they literally shared a room) asked in a calming voice. Leopold "Butters" Stotch was one of the best people that Kenny knew, and Kenny was relieved to have him there with him.

"S-Sorry if I woke you," Kenny gagged, flushing the toilet and resting his head against the cool porcelain, he knew it was unsanitary but he wasn't sure of what else to do. Taking in a few deep breaths, he allowed Butters to help him undress and got into the shower. Once he was done with rinsing himself off, he gargled the Listerine that Butters always left in the shower no matter how many times Kenny told him not to, and he stepped out of the tub, noticing the other man sitting on the toilet bowl with a fresh towel and clean clothes, waiting for him.

Kenny quickly dried himself off before dressing in his favorite pair of sweats and baggy sleeping shirt; he was sincerely touched by Butters thoughtfulness.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Butters asked quietly, warm hazel eyes watching as Kenny rubbed his hair dry.

The other man was silent for a moment, staring down at the blue tiled floor of their tiny bathroom, they had yet to put a bathroom rug in, they should do that before one of them slipped on the way out of the shower and accidently broke their neck. His eyes traveled over Butters' form, the man was handsome and Kenny wanted nothing more than to hold him close and reassure himself that they were both alive. That what he had seen wasn't real, that The Coon wasn't really gone.

"I," Kenny cleared his throat, "I found…I was on my way home and I found The Coon's body." He hoped the way he had said it would let Butters understand what he meant by 'found…body'. Sometimes the man before him was a little naïve, and Kenny really wasn't in the best mood to explain it to him.

Butters eyes flew up to meet Kenny's, mouth gaping and eyes wide with shock, "Wait…you're saying that The Coon's dead?"

Kenny nodded, and was only a little surprised when Butters wrapped his arms around the standing man's torso and buried his head into his stomach, hands tightening around the fabric of the back of his shirt. Kenny ran his hands through Butters soft hair and held him close, it wasn't the most comfortable position for either of them, but it made him feel a little better. When Butters let go, Kenny leaned down and kissed him. The world was an ugly place, he had just found a super hero killed on the streets, and he was pretty sure that he was going to be hunted down for being the first person to write an article about it, but none of that mattered as his hands roamed Butters body; because with so much wrong with the world, at least he had Butters there to help him deal with it all.

Wendy Testaburger wasn't the first on the scene; in fact most of the officers didn't even want her there. The woman was too close to The Coon, and even though the other officers took it hard, they knew this loss was going to hit her worst. There were rumors around the precinct about Wendy's relationship with the masked hero, but no one dared to question things about what might've been between them, as long as things remained professional while at work then nobody cared.

Wendy pushed through the throng of officers with a quick flash of her badge. She had been called early that morning by one Kyle Broflovski, the district attorney, informing her in a calm voice that The Coon was found dead, and that 9-1-1 had already been called and was on the scene. She wasn't sure how the district attorney would know such a thing when she didn't, so she didn't believe him. She didn't want to. She had to see for herself for the news to sink in.

The streets were filled with dirty snow and trash as she ducked beneath the yellow police tape and went further into the dingy alleyway; it was revolting and smelled like dumpster. She covered her nose in disgust as she made her way further into the alley and silently thanked God that they had already covered the body, but by the way the sheet was sticking up in odd angles she knew that Coon had not died peacefully.

"Testaburger!" The gruff voice of the young chief of police, Clyde Donovan, barked at her, "What the hell are you doing here?"

There was a breeze that passed between them, the stench of rotting corpse, blood, and trash made Wendy's eyes water as she tried not to gag and gave Clyde a fierce glare, "I just needed to see it. Where's the witness?"

Clyde gave her a searching look, dark brown eyes were tired, making him look years older then he really was "The witness was one Kenneth McCormick; he lives in this building, on the seventh floor, apartment number 702."

Kenny McCormick, it made sense that he would be the one to find the body; death was something that Kenny was accustomed to, Wendy was sure. She didn't want to see the cloth-covered body anymore, they hadn't unmasked him yet and she was relieved, there was no need for all of them to know who he was. The inside of the apartment building wasn't too bad, old linoleum tiles covered the bottom floor; there was a dusty sofa near the mailboxes and a rickety staircase which led up to the apartments. She made her way to the ancient elevator, pressing down on the number 7 and waiting, grateful that there was no cheesy elevator music playing in the background.

702 was the second apartment to the left, and Wendy took in a deep breath before knocking on the front door.

Kenny, with the help of medication, had finally fallen into a fitful asleep, and Butters made sure he was as comfortable as possible in their bed. He wanted to take the day off from work, but he knew that wasn't an option, the two of them were saving their days for Christmas, when they planned on getting out of this dump of a city and spend some time together in the Caribbean. Or, if they had enough, move into the suburbs.

He was putting on his tie when there was a knock on the door, making him look up from his difficult tie. Leaving it a gnarled mess, he left the bedroom and walked through their pathetic excuse of an apartment for the front door. Leaving the latch on it he opened the door, saw who it was on the other side, closed the door and then opened it correctly.

"Wendy." Butters breathed, he knew that he shouldn't have been shocked to see her, she was a detective after all, and a masked hero's body was found, by his lover, brutally murdered. "You're here for Kenny."

He moved aside so that she could get into the apartment. The front door automatically led into the tiny living room which consisted of one green hand-me-down sofa and an old flat screen mounted on the wall. To the left was a small archway which led into the small kitchen that barely had room for more than two people, along with a half-table that they used for eating. There was a hallway that was perfectly aligned with the front door that led to a small bathroom and the bedroom that Kenny and Butters shared.

"He's asleep," Butters stated quietly, closing the door behind Wendy.

Wendy studied Butters, he still had the lanky body that he had grown into during high school, had the same messy blond hair that he had tried to comb back but was having no luck with, and the same warm, hazel, eyes that had made all of the girls want to squeal and hug him while growing up. Butters still looked young, innocent, and a bit naïve, but Wendy knew better than to judge him by his looks, she knew that he had a darker side which was a force to be reckoned with.

Butters gazed Wendy over as well, she was still a tiny thing, barely passing 5'3", her once long black hair was cut short in an almost boyish hairstyle, her blue eyes were as cold as ice from years of working in her field. He wondered where that girl who had been so into politics had gone.

"Did Chaos do it?" Wendy asked; hand on her concealed gun which was just on the inside of her blazer.

"No," Butters snapped, "And you will not accuse him of such a thing again. Chaos has never killed anyone, intentionally or otherwise." They were both tense, the air seemed to crackle around them as they stared each other down. After a few terse seconds Wendy visibly relaxed.

"You're right, he wouldn't," She sighed, rubbing her eyes as she plopped down onto the surprisingly well cushioned sofa, "I haven't read the report yet, I don't know how bad it is."

Leaning against the wall near the TV, Butters crossed his arms and worried his lower lip before saying, "Ken said that it was ugly. It was so bad that he threw up a few times when he came home. He said that—" that The Coon's ribs had been pried apart and his lungs were pushed aside while his heart was missing and his stomach was sliced open and removed as well. That there was blood everywhere, and the stench alone would've made Kenny puke if not for the fact that he was used to it. Butters let his sentence hang though, unsaid words remained cautiously balanced on the tip of his tongue.

Blue eyes looked up into hazel, the entire place smelled like fresh linen, and she knew that was Butters doing rather than Kenny's, "Can you give me Kenny's alibi? Please, at least that."

The man sighed tiredly; the sun was just peaking through the hallway's window in the apartment, giving everything a soft glow. "He was working all night. He's been aiming for this promotion, so he's been putting an unnecessary amount of hours in. Stanley Marsh was with him all night if you need someone to vouch for him."

Wendy stood up, "Thank you for your time. I'll talk to Stan, if Chaos hears anything in the underground, please let me know."

"I will," Butters nodded as he walked the woman to the front door again, "Wendy, I don't know how often you're going to hear this today, but I'm sorry for your loss. I know how close you and Er— The Coon were."

For the first time all morning Wendy felt hot tears prickling the back of her eyes, she gave Butters a tight smile, "I'm sorry for my loss too. The only thing I can do now is hunt down the bastard who did it."

They parted ways and Butters went back to trying to fix his tie. Chaos, his alter-ego, and a super villain in this god-awful town, had been quiet these last few weeks. The most Chaos did were heists, robbing the rich and whatnot, but murder was never part of his M.O. Butters frowned at himself in the mirror, he was going to have to keep Chaos low for a while, until things were settled.

He turned on the bathroom sink's faucet and let the water run for a few moments while he thought. The Coon AKA Eric Cartman used to be a good friend of his, even when he was Chaos, they played their roles well, but there was no real animosity between them. The reality of it was that they were just two adults acting out their greatest childhood fantasy, and now one was dead because of it.

Butters blinked away tears of anger, he didn't have the time to mourn; he had to get to work.

Stanley Marsh was a newspaper photographer, it wasn't something that he enjoyed, he'd much rather be something like a teacher or fireman, something. But he chose newspaper photographer because it was a way he was able to always be at the scene of a crime. He had spent the entire night developing film, photos from Chaos' and The Coon's last fight as well as some photos of Mysterion beating on some bad guys. It was all typical stuff, but since Stan was always able to get the shot he always got paid a good amount of cash.

When Kenny had emailed Stan those photos and that story, it had made Stan sick. He had always had a weak stomach, ever since he was a child, and he had never really grown out of it.

Kenny would give Stan credit for the pictures, but Stan wasn't sure if he wanted the credit. Still, he needed the money, so after proofreading everything he sent it to their editor and left the office. The sun was already high up in the sky by the time he got onto the sidewalk. People in suits were making their way to work while he was making his way home.

He sat in the subway, running both gloved hands through his dark hair and closing tired blue eyes. This was all too much. He took out his cell and texted his best friend, knowing that the man would be awake and on his way to work.

The Coon's dead.

The text was simple enough, and Stan pressed the send button with no further hesitation. He switched trains once more before getting off at the right stop and making his way home, breath hanging in the cold winter air. His apartment was in view and he opened the front door of the building quickly, closing it shut firmly before making his way up three flights of stairs to his place. It was an hour commute to and from work, and he really should've moved if he wanted to really get somewhere with his career, but he liked where he lived too much to do just that.

Entering his sparsely furnished apartment, he jumped at the sight of his super best friend, Kyle Broflovski, sitting on his living room's couch and flipping through the channels on his ancient tube TV.

"You should've been at work by now," Stan stated, toeing off his shoes and peeling off all of the layers of clothing that he had on his body. Kyle lived in an upscale apartment in The Village; there was no need for him to be in Stan's neighborhood, especially since he worked in the city as well.

The redhead watched Stan take off his extra articles of clothes, brown eyes drinking in the sight. "I figured we could spend the day together. One of our childhood friends just died." His voice cracked at the end of that sentence and he leaned forward, elbows on knees, hands on face. He rubbed his face tiredly and took in a few deep breaths. As much as Kyle disliked The Coon they did grow up together, they had been frienemies almost their entire lives. They had this deep understanding, a connection of sorts, and now he was dead.

Stan groaned as he sat on the couch, it felt as if his entire body was on the verge of shutting down, "So you know who The Coon was." He stated, moving his head to get a better look at the other man.

Kyle snorted at that. "It was kind of hard to not know. You've got to be a dumbass to not see who he really was. I just can't figure out who Chaos and Mysterion are," Kyle's brown eyes looked over at his best friend, not surprised to see that Stan was starting to doze off next to him.

The redhead moved some of Stan's raven locks out of his face, scrutinising his features before nudging him gently, "Come on dude, let's get you changed and in bed."

Half an hour after Stan had fallen fast asleep, there was a knock on the apartment door. Kyle ran a hand through his messy red hair and opened it without second thought, unsurprised at the sight of Wendy on the other side. "Come on in."

She followed him in, closing the door behind her and taking in her surroundings. Stan's apartment wasn't very large and the fact that it was so far from the city made it cheap. The living room slash dining room took up most of the place, decorated with a pair of worn leather couches, low wooden coffee tables, and an old tube TV. To the left was a tiny kitchenette that had an open bar that faced the living room. Off of the kitchen was a door that led to the only bathroom in the apartment and across the short hall from that was Stan's sparsely furnished bedroom. The apartment wasn't as domesticated at Butters and Kenny's.

"Have a seat," Kyle nodded towards a couch as he gave Wendy a cup of coffee, being the hospitable host that he had been raised to be. "I'm a little confused as to why you're here."

"I can say the same about you," Wendy stated, regarding Kyle with watchful eyes, "Why're you here, instead of at work?"

Kyle felt his face heat up as he took a sip of his coffee before answering, "Stan needed me." His voice was quiet and his eyes looked up at her, as if daring her to say something against his reasoning.

"So he's asleep now?" She asked instead, noticing how the TV was on cartoons rather than the news. It seemed unlike Kyle to watch such frivolous programming, but with the way the day started out she couldn't blame him.

The man nodded, "Yeah, but if you want an alibi you can talk to Kenny McCormick, Stan was at work with him all night as far as I know."

Placing the empty, chipped, white mug down upon the coffee table, Wendy sighed and nodded. "I figured that they were both innocent, Butters is too, there aren't any leads." She bit her quivering lower lip as she curled inwards, hands linked behind her neck, pulling her body forward. "I don't know what I'm going to do Kyle."

"Get off the case."

"What?" Her head snapped up quickly, eyes narrowed at the man who was sitting on the other couch.

"You heard me," Kyle frowned, "You shouldn't be involved in this anyways; it's too close for you; too personal."

Before the discussion got a chance to escalate into some kind of argument, Stan made his appearance. Dragging his feet and wearing nothing but a thin pair of black boxers, he leaned heavily against the kitchenettes limited bar space and looked at the two in his living room. "You guys mind keeping it down a bit?"

Wendy was about to open her mouth to say something to the man but the words died in her throat. Stan's body was littered with thin scars, as well as large ones, nasty bruises, and welts. She put a hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming at the sight, she had seen worse on battery victims, but it was always easy to disassociate herself from strangers. Stan wasn't a stranger to her.

"We're sorry that we woke up," Kyle said in a soothing voice, taking the throw blanket that had been draped behind him on the couch and placing it over Stan's bare shoulders, covering the man's body from Wendy's eyes.

"S'alright," Stan yawned, shuffling back to his bedroom and closing the door. The two in the living waited a few moments before they decided that it was okay to continue talking.

"What happened to him?" Wendy asked, brow furrowed and stress lines deepening.

"You have enough on your plate Wends, let me take care of Stan," Kyle said to her. He had a frown marring his face, looking as if he were just appointed the task of saving the world. It was a feeling that Wendy could relate to.

It wasn't until much later, in the dead of night where there was no one around to hear or see her, that Wendy cried. She curled up on His side of the bed, head buried into his pillow as she inhaled the remains of his scent that clung onto the fabric. Her body shook violently as she let it all out. The mortician, as well as everyone else involved with what to do with his body, had yet to unmask The Coon until Wendy said it was okay to do so. She still had to call his mother and tell her the news.

She kept her TV off, The Coon's death was on almost every station.

Everything was just too much for the raven haired woman; she shakily sat up in her bed, reached over to her bedside table and grabbed some Ambient that the doctor had prescribed her, swallowing a pill and collapsing back onto the bed. She was so angry at him for dying, for being foolish enough to get caught by someone and killed. She hated him for making her fall in love with him. On his nightstand there was a picture of the two of them from when they took a vacation to the Florida Key's during the summer, it was something that they could look at during the night time when one of them was busy working.

Wendy threw the frame onto the floor, and curled away from it, "Eric." She began to cry again, unable to stop herself until the sleeping medication kicked in.

On the other side of the city Mysterion stared at the spot that they had found The Coon's body that morning.

"You're not going to find anything," The voice from the shadows caused Mysterion to jump and instantly be on guard, eyeing Chaos warily as he came out his hiding, "The cops cleaned everything up well, almost can't tell that there was such a gruesome scene here this morning."

Mysterion took out the baton that he had hidden in the back of his cloak, "Here to kill me too? The murderer always returns to the scene of the crime you know."

Chaos chuckled insanely, "Like you're one to talk Myst. I've actually been waiting for you. Here," He shoved a folder into the man's hands, "That is for you."

"What is it?" Mysterion asked cautiously, knowing better than to trust Chaos.

"A list. I've been doing my homework." The man pulled his own cloak tighter around his slim body as a cold puff of air flew by the two. "There've been a string of murders similar to Coon's over the last six months within the tri-state area. Superheroes such as Blue Rude Girl, Lolipop, Immoral Justice, and Ghetto Rican have all been killed off, as well as super villains such as Sicko, Lone Wolf, and Kinderteacher. All of them were found with organs missing."

Mysterion glanced down at the folder before looking back up at Chaos, "So we have ourselves a super's serial killer."

"Mm," Chaos nodded, looking up at the brownstone buildings, everyone in the apartments were fast asleep, something that he planned on being sometime soon as well. Overhead the moon was trying to peek through the cities thick smog. It was a dreary night, and it looked as if rain might pour down on them at any moment, which would have been fitting considering the mornings events. "You might want to tell all of your super friends about it. Tell them to lay low; I'll do the same with the guys on my side. They might be considered 'evil' in the eyes of society, but no one deserves to go the way Coon did."

"I'll find you when I need you," Mysterion said as Chaos began to walk away from him.

"Yeah," Chaos said over his shoulder, "I know."

Kyle had been fast asleep, but the tapping on his window caused him to sit up abruptly and search around, wide eyed. This wasn't his apartment. After a few unsettling seconds he realized that he was still at Stan's, having fallen asleep on the couch.

The tapping on the window began again; causing the man's heart to race as he looked over at the only window in the living room. On the fire escape was Mysterion.

"How the hell did you find me?" Kyle hissed as he opened the window, he glared at the man on the other side. Mysterion shoved a folder into the redheads hands and looked into his brown eyes.

"I need you to do research for me," Mysterion said, voice kept low.

Kyle seethed, "I'm the district attorney, not your sidekick!"

"Kyle," The way the superhero said his name made the redhead's anger dissolve. As if a bucket of cold water were poured over his emotions, "Please."

"Fine," Kyle said through clenched teeth, and then Mysterion was gone. Kyle held back from slamming the window shut, he glanced at Stan's closed bedroom door, throwing the folder onto the coffee table and collapsing back onto the couch. It had been a very long day.

TBC

Evil Chibi Kitten: I've never written anything like this, so bear with me lol. It's refreshing actually, to let my inner super hero geek come out XD. Anyways, please review, they keep me

COVER ART FOUND HERE: dylancg. deviantart