Inspired by a visit to the Holocaust Museum in Houston. Let's Kyman it up!

This Isn't Cool

"Now, kids." Mr. Mackey looked a little squeamish, glancing nervously into the 'optional' slots. "These images are very... Shocking. Be warned that you may not want to see them, mmkay?"

For a long moment, no one moved. Finally, Cartman, who had been more annoying than usual throughout the entire Holocaust museum tour, stepped forward, cocky grin in place. "I wanna see the filthy Jews get tortured!"

Every person in the room fixed slightly dead glares on him, except for Kyle. Face hidden by his long crimson curls, head bowed, he walked forward to stand next to the brunette. They waited a moment to see if anyone else would step forward. Wendy lurched as though she might but quickly retook her previous position, hiding ever-so-slightly behind her boyfriend, Token.

The pair didn't glance at each other at all as they started forward, looking over into the hidden sections, the plaques, the captions. The first one was a picture of a couple little boys in a faded black and white photograph. "Castrated." Kyle mumbled disbelievingly as he read. "I've seen the picture before, but the shadows..."

Kyle's voice was dead. Eric's was full of false cheer. "And which commendable Nazi did that?"

"Josef Mengele, The Angel of Death."

Eric didn't reply, absorbed in what he was reading, though a faint voice in the back of his head was telling him he was being watched by his classmates. As Kyle moved farther down, he took up his previous position, feeling sick to his stomach at the horrible things he was reading. But the Holocaust was cool, right? Hitler was awesome... Right? Right.

There was a drop of water on the plaque. Eric stared at it a moment, but ultimately ignored it, moving on behind Kyle. They were still being watched. More water. Where was it coming from?

Finally, Kyle hit the end of the row. He sucked in a painful-sounding breath, letting it go on a harsh sob. Instantly, the confident, collected young man was replaced with a broken child, shoulders shaking, rubbing his eyes frantically. He couldn't muffle or ease his sobbing. Stan stepped forward, hand out-stretched, but Kenny caught him and pulled him back, both watching blankly as Eric stepped behind the Jew, peering over the top of his head with ease.

He froze, sucking in a breath as well. There was a TV screen under a layer of glass, displaying images that surely could not be anything other than the product of Hollywood Hell. Bodies-hundreds, thousands of naked bodies, being bulldozed into mass graves. They were sickly and skeletal, shaved and robbed, men, women and children. His brain could hardly comprehend it as he realized just how many eleven million was.

Kyle spun around, tilting his head back to reveal a tear-stained, heartbroken face. Seemingly unperturbed by the good foot Eric had on him, he shoved the other boy violently and screamed, "Is it still funny, you heartless asshole?"

Instantly, he was gone.

Silence quickly overtook the room. Mr. Mackey looked as though he wasn't sure where he was most needed, glancing furtively from the direction Kyle ran in to the class to the silent brunette standing so very still.

Finally, Eric spun around, looking at the class as though he had every fiber if their attention, like they were waiting for him. As a matter of fact, they were. His face was pale and his fingers were trembling. Shoulders slumped. Defeated. He shoved off the display and started off in the direction the redhead had taken off in, announcing in a dead voice, "This isn't cool anymore."

OoO

He found the Jew outside the building, crumpled against the wall and still sobbing hysterically. He paused momentarily to stare at the pitiful ball of crying Jew, foreign guilt boiling in his stomach. It wasn't a pleasant sensation. Eric was by no means used to feeling guilty.

Silently, he sat in front of the ginger, reaching out hesitantly to pat him on the knee. Kyle raised his head slowly, the expression on his tear-stained face flickering between confusion and angry disbelief. The brunette just looked awkward.

"I was wrong..." he ventured. Kyle shook his head, hiccuping a little as a slightly sad smile upturned his lips. He could count on one hand how many times Eric T. Cartman had admitted he was wrong. "And I'm sorry." he finished just as awkwardly.

Kyle blinked owlishly at him, having not expected any sort of an apology. The ex-neo-nazi kept his eyes fixated on the ground as he reached back behind his neck, large fingers stumbling a little with the delicate silver clasp. It only took a moment or two more before he set his old, worn swastika on the gravelly sidewalk in front of the still quietly crying Jew's feet, as though he were making an offering.

Kyle gently shoved it closer to the other, wordlessly urging him to put it back on. Scowling, Eric shook his head, sliding it back over to his long time rival. Stubbornly, Kyle reached back and nimbly removed his just as old and worn golden Star of David, placing it next to the silver swastika. They glared heatedly at each other for several long moments, until Eric finally burst out with, "Shut up woman, and get back in the kitchen!" and Kyle automatically responded by snapping, "Bitch, Imma bus!"

They glared for several moments more, before Eric scoffed and snatched up the Star of David, fastening around his neck. Kyle met his challenging stare with confused green orbs silently asking if he'd finally gone insane. The brunette rolled his eyes in irritation, snatching up the swastika and leaning forward to reach around the absolutely terrified Jew's fragile neck, latching the Nazi symbol there and pulling back with a nod if satisfaction.

Slowly, Kyle reached up to cup the charm, an awed expression gracing his young face. He smiled shyly at his rival, receiving an unimpressed expression for his efforts. The larger teen got to his feet and offered a hand down to the ginger.

Kyle stared at it in shock, absently thinking that Eric was just full of surprises today. Hesitantly, he took the offered help, letting him pull him to his feet.

And so began the strangest friendship to ever grace South Park.

God help them all.

OoO

So, I feel kinda childish asking this, but Imma ask anyway.

Will South Park Fandom die with South Park?

O.o

That looks weird in italics.

Anyway, this might turn into a series of drabbles (I have no idea if I'm using that word right) because Kyman is cannon and I love it, even if Kyman Fanfiction is generally depressing.

QUESTIONS, COMMENTS, CONCERNS? REVIEW!