((I'm so sorry for the super long wait! I had the first part of this finished for awhile but it took me forever to finish the rest ;w; I'm such a failure...

But anyway, thank you, everyone that reviewed, thank you all so much! Each and every review made me giddy inside and gave me courage to continue writing this. I didn't think much of anyone would like it.

Enjoy the semi-not-so-much-very-vague-cryptic-introduction to the plot!

Disclaimer: South Park belongs to Matt and Trey.))

Encounter Two - Faint Recognition

Had Mysterion just committed suicide?

Kyle stood stationary by his window, half leaning out. His mind raced, thoughts muddled and darkened by death. His vision blurred and nausea hit him.

Then his legs crumpled beneath him.

This reaction wasn't right, horrified, yes, but fainting? It was heavy and powerful, like some unknown force. And then he lost consciousness like he'd been heavily drugged.

When he woke up later his mind was foggy and memory was blurred and all that occurred to him that he had slept through his first class of the day.

"Shit!" And then he rushed out of his apartment.

The boy who once had blue eyes shining with hope had long since disappeared, replaced by the cautious young man. It had been a sad and breaking transformation, twisting and warping his sad but still optimistic conscious. Now he knew that things can and will go down South, and he shouldn't depend on some far off hope that he'd wake up the next day and things would magically work out.

He knew better.

Not that he had a completely pessimistic outlook, as his hope had been replaced with sheer gritty determination. If things weren't going to work, well, he'd make them. He knew very well that right now frankly, life sucked ass, and whereas a part of him cautiously and gingerly stepped around the many pitfalls around his life, a part of him could only grin with a cocky smile. He'd kept on with life just to spite it, to prove it wrong. If it was going to drag his face through the mud he'd spite it by being the type of man that could take anything, the type of man of man that could stand tall and dignified despite the humiliation in front of him.

This had been his subconscious though, desperately attempting to shine through all the grim and anger and despair that had grown over.

On the surface he was just a broken man barraged with misfortune.

He felt his conscious shatter when he saw his sister's cold body. Blood pooled darkly around her torso, almost black with the lighting, spittled all way up and down the front half of her body. Dark blotches reflecting horribly against serrated steel. The stench of her rotting corpse stinging his nostrils like acid. The ability to breathe left when he saw her clothes: torn, ripped, her bra cut open at the front along with a thin trail of blood along her too-white skin, her panties pulled halfway down her knees.

And her eyes were open. Hopelessness and death swirled in her blue eyes.

She had died miserably, stripped mercilessly of her beliefs in the world. Only replaces with the horror of death and rape.

Rape. They had raped her.

The blond boy blanched, his knees crumpling under him.

"Karen..." He gasped out shaking, he mouthed more indistinguishably words but his throat had failed him.

Like her, all hope had been maliciously ripped from his grasp by this single event.

And a whole lot more grief was waiting for him around the corner.

The one thing that Kenny hated the most about dying was the memories that came with it. Every single time it was a dream of something he never wanted to remember, something that hurt because it was a memory. It wouldn't be such horrible nightmares if the events in them had been fake, just his overactive imagination. But they were real. Real and defining.

It was sort of sad that the moments that defined his life were so tragic.

With a heavy sigh and groan he jumped out of his bed, orange parka and striped boxers being the only thing protecting him from the cold. His mind blurred by sleepiness he tried to remember the last time he'd died and what had happened. This was sometimes the case when he'd been revived, a small case of memory loss. Fortunately for him, witnesses were given the same experience. This little trick had gotten him out of more than one pickle.

Stumbling sleepily across his small flat towards the pile of laundry in the corner he runs his hand through his greasy hair, thoughts of a potential bath running through his head. Speaking of pickles... He freezes half-way in between shoving on a pair of ripped jeans, an 'ohfuckingshitcrap' expression forming slowly on his features

It was 9:55 in the morning. Flashes of last-nights events raced around in his mind, stopping at fainting in the alley-way. A part of his brain told him there was something more but he ignored it in favor of remembering the rest later.

The previous events had been an infinitely more amount of important then whatever the hell happened afterwards. Pulling his jeans up the rest of the way he discarded any thoughts of a bath as he stuffed his frayed duffel bag with the various necessities he would need for the next few hours(and possibly the next few days). A certain change of 'clothes', a tazor, a gun, a smoke bomb, and various switchblades, hunting daggers, and other knifes.

Hoisting the bag up to his shoulder he looked nothing more than a college student who'd slept in and was now late for classes. Which means, running down the apartments hallway like a maniac and choosing to take the stairs down the five flights instead of the elevator(stupid thing was probably broken again anyway). In a way he was said 'college student', but fortunately for him he'd decided to steer-free of winter-interim classes.

Not that the apartments tenets would be none the wiser. Besides, it was South Park, and most of the adults frankly just didn't give a damn.

Kenny bit his lip as he jumped down the final flight of stairs to the ground level, his agile frame taking the fall easily as he raced out the door with the glowing red 'EXIT' sign above it. Except running into the man on the other side of the door kind of halted his sprint(and also kind of threw off balance, tumbling clumsily unto his rear). He stopped himself from screaming profanities at the man currently towering over him when he spotted his face.

"Kenny?" The red puff ball on top of his blue hat bobbed as he nodded his head to the right, concern flitting onto his features. Shock, concern, disbelief, and awe hit Kenny's at the sight of the raven haired boy in front of him.

"Stan!" was all he could let before he remembered that 'Kenny' wasn't supposed to know about the course of last nights events. However, he was able to cover it up by concern about the others education, "Dude! Don't you have classes right now?"

Sometimes Kenny simple adored his parka, and its wonderful ability of muffling his voice more than half the time, masking his uncertain tone. And how it covered most of his face was a plus as well. He tended to be more disguised then when he was actually was in disguise(i.e. almost every night).

Stan ran a hand through his hair taking off his beanie in the process, with a audible sigh he pinched his nose, "Yeah, I was. My first class just fucking ended," under his breath he mumbled something darkly about statistics, "and I was going to go get a bite to eat with Kyle after, but the asshole never showed up."

Kenny had never met Stan's best friend Kyle before(most of the time due to whenever Stan had brought him over Kenny tended to be doing other extra-curricular activities next door(i.e. avoiding being stabbed, stopping bank robbers, you know, the usual), but he knew a lot because of how much Stan talked about him.

Speaking of Kyle's... Kenny blinked absent-minded, where had he heard that name recently beside Stan? Kenny shook his head dispelling all thoughts about redheads or refreshing replies. He didn't have time to remember such things, a much more important priority was standing right in front of him.

"And I wanted to talk to him about all the crazy shit I've been through this weekend." Kenny jumped out of his thoughts by Stan's irritated sigh, having almost forgotten the raven was still speaking.

This is it! A chance to ask him about last night!

"What crazy shit?" The blond asked feigning curiosity. He knew exactly what Stan was talking about.

Except well, it wasn't 'Kenny' who knew, it was someone more akin to purple and capes.

Stan let out a groan, long and suffering, "No, dude, you wouldn't even believe me if I fucking told you. It's some out of this world shit."

Except, well, Kenny would. He'd witnessed half of it as well.

"Try me." Kenny grinned despite his face being almost invisible inside is large orange hood.

Stan eyed Kenny warily before pinching his nose, "Dude, weren't you in a hurry somewhere? It's a long story."

Hurrying to find you.

"Naw, I was just tripping over myself back there. I'm free all day" -ish. Kenny still had some very important duties to attend for, but this one just happened to take the cake. Stan eyed his small neighbor wearily, fighting some inner battle inside his head. Kenny put on one of his extra innocent and concerned looks and knew that Stan couldn't refuse him.

Eventually Stan groaned loudly to the sky, as if asking the heavens 'Why? Why must you make my life suck so badly? What the hell did I do to you' before giving up. "Fine dude, why don't we go to the cafe down the street and talk." Stan muttered and started walking out of the small apartment complex.

Kenny almost couldn't help the 'whoop!' that was building up in him, but managed to suppress it. Not only did Stan seem somewhat safe, he'd allowed the 'Kenny' persona into the equation by having Stan make him a confidant, but he'd also be getting some breakfast.

Food was always very high on the boys list of priorities. Though, it was one he constantly failed at.

Stan Marsh has had a very peculiar and interesting week. Though, it can't be said that it all began simply a week ago.

No, it all started for poor little Stan his first day of his amazing college experience. The eighteen year old hadn't expected much more from college life than it being as his old school chef would say 'the time and place for everything'. Being slightly a skeptic, Stan only ever walked lightly on this expectation. Little did he know that whereas he wouldn't be going to extensively awesome parties and trying out new and dangerous things, he would be embarking on the adventure of his life.

Stan was very used to adventures. He'd been adventurous as a kid and this quality had gotten him into plenty enough trouble. But none of it could ever prepare him for what he met on his first day.

Stan Marsh met Leopold 'Butters' Stotch.

And that was when this all really started.

Butters had been nothing more than a friendly face and a new friend, although a bit... socially awkward.

Or at least that was what Stan had thought at the time. Butters had remained a somewhat friend for the whole first semester of college. Stan never put him as any priority other than just a school chum.

But he didn't realize the full impact their meeting had on Butters.

It was a beginning for a bunch of things for the two freshmen.

But Stan has no idea how any of this relates to the crazy adventure that started for him last week. All that Stan knows is that his life took a sudden and very weird twist and that it was happened way too fast. Shouldn't there be just a little more foreshadowing for something like this?

It started for Stan on the first day of the winter interim classes. He had decided to sacrifice his precious spring break in favor of sticking around to keep his best friend company. The overachieving redhead had painfully decided that it was absolutely necessary to cram in as many classes as possible.

At least that had been the excuse at face value. Being his best friend, Stan knew the real reason without even having to be told.

Kyle didn't want to go home. Stan could only observe this as painfully obvious. Especially with what had happened with Ike last year, it was completely understandable as to the Jew's reluctance to returning to his parent's house.

So obviously being the best super best friend he could be, he took the liberty of signing up for winter classes and providing moral support for his friend(and to avoid the inevitability of getting his ass kicked by his abusive older sister).

But this decision to be a good friend only landed him in a very dangerous situation.

So when Stan got the first threatening letter he was slightly baffled and very confused.

It also made him kinda barf. It was written entirely in blood after all, he could actually smell it the aroma was so strong. His first instinct was to call his best friend to get some advice. His immediate second was to call the police.

"You have five days."

That was it, but for the love of god, it was fucking creepy. Stan was near a panic attack when he was about to contact the police about it. he had a freaking stalker for Christ's sake! He thought that only happened to slutty girls! And seriously, five days for what? To give them all his money? Until they rape him? Until they kill him?

And did he mention that it was written in blood.

Yeah, very creepy.

But unfortunately Stan never got a chance to call anyone; he kinda dropped his phone in shock when he looked out the window.

There he was, in complete masked glory, the Mysterion, knocking on his window pane.

On the fifth floor.

Stan gaped and let the superhero in. The superhero swept in, took the goddamn threat letter and just as fast, was gone.

That day, Stan was nothing short of stupefied.

He was so baffled that he hadn't even bothered to call anyone.

He would have recovered, but that was just the first of many incidents that week.

Stan's crazy week included being held at gunpoint at a bank robbery, creepy vans following him wherever he went, bus-jacked, endless amount of threat letters, finding a hidden camera in his apartment and then just to ice the whole cake of crazy, kidnapped.

Each and every one of these times, the town's favorite superhero had arrived just in time to save his ass. And on the night before the kidnapping actually talked to him.

"Be careful, you're being targeted by someone."

"No duh, you think I'm so stupid that after this whole fucking week I haven't noticed that?"

"Chill, I'm just telling you to be careful."

And with that he disappeared again.

And then the next day on his way to school, chloroform scented cloth was harshly shoved down his mouth and he woke up inside a warehouse tied up to a annoying pole hidden behind some annoying boxes.

'This is so much bullshit.'

Stan sighed indignantly. This had gone from terrifying to seriously grating on his nerves. It didn't even cross his mind to try to contact the police or call Kyle, both had seemed unbearably unreachable in those past few days

He didn't even bother to scream out; it was painfully obvious that he was gagged anyway.

He just glared at the shining metal helmet on the man he couldn't quite see in the warehouses dim lighting.

Butters Stotch grinned maliciously under his disguise.

And then he raised the baseball bat.

"And then it was all just a fucking blur!" Stan gestured wildly, minding not to spill his coffee. "And I swear to god that bastard hit me so fucking hard! Look at this!" Stan raised his shirt up slightly to reveal the ugly bruise.

They had opted to talking on park benches near Starks Pond for their chat, after discovering the cafe was a bit more than full. It was overflowing. After ordering their coffee and some morning pastry or the other, Kenny couldn't name t if his life depended on it, they had started Stan's 'shocking' story.

Except well they'd been talking for a good half-hour and Kenny still hadn't gotten the information that he needed.

"So how'd you get away?" Kenny attempted his most shocked tone he could manage

"Shh! I'm getting to that!" Stan reprimanded. "Anyway, after he beat me for a good long while, surprise, surprise! Mysterion appears out of nowhere again to save me." Kenny inwardly huffed, he'd thought he had made an amazingly dramatic entrance.

"And?" Annoyance etched slightly over his muffled voice.

With a snap like movement Stan turned to him, ready to ridicule him interrupting once again before he stopped short. Short-lived scolding expression replaced by one of complete affectionate rage.

"Kyle! Where the fuck have you been you asshole!" His shout made Kenny freeze and overwhelming apprehension gripped at his insides. He did not have a good feeling.

Kyle...? Vague memories re refused to indulge surfaced as common sense decided it despised common names before it informed Kenny that it was only Stan's best friend. By then Stan had got up, striding angrily towards the boy Kenny was going to have to meet eventually.

Like time skidding to a halt he slowly turned towards him, "Where the fuck were you this morning! Where have you been all week dude!" He caught a glimpse of red, "You never miss classes, what happened?" Concern seeped into the anger in only a way a close friend could. Kenny caught sight of green eyes.

"Something came up this morning..." and that voice.

Time stopped in milliseconds as their eyes met.

Green ushanka and orange hood.

"Who is that...?" Kyle asked, faint and confused recognition flitting across green irises.

Kenny was never so happy for his hood in that moment.

((Ending Notes: ldfsfjaslfjfa Kenny, you're screwed! ;A; Is it just me or does the ending lose a lot of quality...? Oh well, the next chapter will be better. I'm so sorry I'm writing this so slow, I'm still working out the plot v

Please review, without encouragement I might wallow in a hole and die and never continue... Anything is appreciated(criticism, flames, praise, etc.) But I just really want to know you're guy's opinions. ;w;

-An Anxious Burbs))