Kyle's POV:

Why did I come back here again? Oh right... To give Kenny a surprise visit... Turns out that he moved away. Kenny left and moved away from South Park, along with the rest of his family. A lot of people have done that over the past few years. Cartman, Stan, Wendy, Token, Bebe, Butters and now Kenny. They're all gone. Most people I know, have left this place. I did too. My family moved away, five years ago, when I was 14. I was the first of us all to go, and soon more people seemed to follow.

But I came back, today, to see Kenny. I showed up at his old house, but he moved without even mentioning anything. Well, I guess he didn't have to tell me... I've neglected our friendship for a long time now after all. So why would he tell me anything really?

I came back. I missed him so much and I wanted to see him, so I came back. I care about Kenny, more than I care about anything else. But I still neglect him and push him away. There must be something completely wrong with me. I'm such a horrible friend, and I can't seem to make the one person I love stay. Because I still neglect him. I'm so sorry Kenny. I feel sick to my stomach. I never deserved him anyway, so it's alright if he doesn't stay. But that doesn't stop me from loving him. He can never know about it though, because we can only ever be friends. Even if I love him, it doesn't matter. I'm lucky if I can even call him my friend anymore...

"Maybe it's my own fault... It probably is... I brought this upon myself, didn't I?" I think as I shakily walk down the dark streets of South Park. My entire body is aching, and it's cold, so cold. My bare feet sink into the snow on the ground, and I can't feel my toes at all anymore. I look down, and they've become a terrifying shade of purple that I've never seen on skin before.

I'm only wearing a white long sleeved shirt, that has several stains and holes in it, I don't want to think about what the stains are from, and a pair of dark green jeans. My green hat, along with all my other clothes and my shoes, are nowhere I can reach anymore. So I can now feel the ice cold breeze blowing through my red curls, and the frosty air hitting my scalp.

It's a late winter night, and the stars are shining brightly in the sky above me. I'm constantly shivering, as I walk along the streets, every step feeling even more painful than the last. I'm on the verge of crying, but I hold it in as best as I can. I'll try and be strong. I don't want those sick bastards to have the pleasure of actually breaking me, no. I'm not gonna let this tear me apart now. I refuse.

I continue to walk silently, although I sniffle a little on occasions, while I'm desperately looking for a house, any house, that could be the home of someone I know. I need somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. Or I'll fall apart completely, or maybe I'll freeze to death... Whichever comes first...

A feeling of relief hits me, as I find a house that I recognize. I walk up to the front door of the home, and I'm about to ring the doorbell. But fear and paranoia strikes me for a moment. What if it's the same? What if he has left to? What if this happens again?

But then I realize, that if it does happen again, it still doesn't matter. I've already become so messed up and torn apart tonight, so there's no way that it can possibly feel much worse. There is a chance, although small, that I can be alright again, if the person I know opens the door. I'm willing to take that chance. Please open the door...

I ring the doorbell.

Craig's POV:

It's around 2.30 in the morning when the doorbell wakes me up.

What the hell? Who comes to visit at this time of the night? I hope it's important... It better not be Clyde paying me a late night visit while being drunk off his ass again... I'm getting really fucking sick of that...

I rub my eyes as I trudge down the stairs. I walk towards the front door and I let out a yawn as I open it. I'm surprised at what I see in front of me.

"Kyle?" I say with my usual, indifferent sounding voice, though I raise my eyebrows a little.

In front of me stands Kyle Broflovski, and to be frank he looks like complete shit. He's wearing way too little clothes for this weather and on top of that they're ripped and dirty, and I think he smells a bit funny as well. His skin is turning a sickly purple shade and he's shivering violently. Our gazes meet and his emerald eyes are puffy, bloodshot, and teary. There's bags under them too and he looks tired. Really tired. He doesn't have any shoes on either... But the most odd thing is that he isn't wearing his hat, that guy goes nowhere without that thing. I wonder what happened to him... Kyle moved away a long time ago and I never expected him to come back here, let alone to visit me, especially in this state... What the hell is going on?

"Craig..." Kyle says in a weak voice. It sounds hoarse, as if he's been screaming too much and has started to lose his voice.

"Did you want anything?" I ask, sounding a bit more cold than I intend to.

"Does it look like I want anything?" He asks me shakily, sounding as if he's about to start sobbing loudly soon. Kyle looks at me with his sad eyes again, and he seems so pitiful in this state. I kind of feel sorry for him.

I take a step to the side and make a small hand gesture to indicate that I let him into the house. Kyle understands what I mean and he walks inside slowly. He has a little bit of a limp and it seems like walking is causing him pain...

I silently walk into the kitchen and he follows me.

"Want some coffee?" I ask him in my monotone voice. The shaking redhead nods desperately. I let out another yawn before I start to make coffee for the two of us. Kyle carefully sits down on a chair by the kitchen table.

"Did I wake you up?" He asks, his voice so quiet that I can barely make out what he's saying.

"Yeah, you did." I tell him. What the fuck is this? Why is this messed up kid that is Kyle Broflovski sitting here at my kitchen table in the middle of the night? It's weird. If I didn't know better I'd think I'm having some weird, fucked up dream. But this feels way too fucking real to just be some shitty dream.

"Sorry..." Kyle tells me, and it sounds as if he feels guilty.

"Whatever dude... It's alright" I say with a small sigh. "Want a blanket?" I don't have to wait for him to answer, cause he is shivering violently and I know that he wants a damn blanket but he just doesn't wanna seem pushy or demanding. I can see him nod in the corner of my eye, but I'm already on my way to the living room to get one when he does so.

The blanket will definitely need to be washed later but who gives a shit about that. Kyle is a fucking train wreck and I need to help him. It's not like I've ever been close to the guy or anything but... He came here and he seems so fucking fragile and clearly needs some help so whatever. I'll do him a favor tonight. He'll just owe me one later...

I grab a thick blanket from the living room couch and then I go back to the kitchen. I throw the blanket at the Jew and he catches it with his shaky hands.

"Thanks a lot..." He says weakly and gives me a small smile, before he wraps the blanket around himself. I just shrug it off. It's silent for a while before he decides to speak again. "Are your parents at home?"

"No... They're out of town for the weekend, and my sister is at a friends house... So it's just you and me here..." I say in my once again monotone voice. It's always like that. I don't mean to seem cold or harsh, but I do a lot of the time because my voice simply sound that way. A lot of people think I'm some big asshole without emotions just because of my voice. Maybe I kinda am an asshole though, I don't know...

"I see..." Kyle says quietly. The coffee is done by now so I poor two mugs of the black liquid.

"Is just plain, black coffee alright?" I ask him. "Do you want any milk or something in it?" Kyle shakes his head.

"Like this is just fine..." He says. I put his mug right in front of him before I sit down at the opposite side of the table and take a sip from my own mug. Kyle grabs the mug he's been given with both his hands. It probably burns on his ice cold, shaking hands but he doesn't seem to care and he quickly takes a big gulp of the hot liquid.

I reach for the lighter and the pack of cigarettes laying on the middle of the table.

"Do you mind?" I ask Kyle while taking a cigarette out of the packet. He shakes his head. I light the cigarette and then inhale the sweet taste of the smoke. The sweet fucking taste of slowly developing lung cancer... Yay.

"I'm sorry for intruding like this..." Kyle says and takes another gulp from his mug. I just shrug, and breath out the smoke I've inhaled.

"Whatever dude... Rough night?" I ask, making an effort to not sound too harsh or cold. He's vulnerable right now... It's best to try and not sound like a cynical bastard.

"Worst night of my life..." He tells me sadly. I breath in some more of the smoke.

"I don't want to push it... Just tell me what happened if you want to... Or like... whenever you're ready..." I answer.

"Thanks Craig... But I can tell you now I guess..." Kyle says, seeming a bit uncomfortable.

"If you're sure that you want to then go ahead..." Our eyes meet for a moment, and he almost looks scared. Does he think that I'll judge him or something? What kind of mess did this guy get himself into now?

"I... Um... I... I-I got r-raped.." He stutters and tears start to spill from his eyes. I stare at him in disbelief for a moment.

"What did you just say?"

"I-I was going to give Kenny a surprise visit... B-but it t-turns out he moved away and... And I... I-I knocked on the door and I f-find out t-that three big, pretty muscular guys live there now... The guy who opened t-the door... He... He dragged me i-inside and I-I was too weak to do anything and then... And then... I-I tried screaming but no one heard me..." Kyle tells me all of this while he's sobbing. I have no idea what the hell to do or say. The cigarette butt ends up in the ashtray and I stand up.

It makes sense. The smell, and that it hurts for him to walk. The fact that he's dressed the way he is... He must've rushed out of there without being able to retrieve most of his things.

Sick bastards. Sick fucking bastards. I'll shove something up their asses and we'll see if they like it. And with something I mean something that'll really hurt, like a cactus or a piranha. Or maybe a grenade or something... I don't know... I feel completely furious. Those sick bastards. Out of all the horrible things you could do... Why rape?

Kyle looks at me and he's completely terrified. Wait... Does he think that I'm mad at him? Fuck. I scared him. This is no good.

I walk over to Kyle and I simply place my hand on his shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that... It'll be alright." I tell him, and I hope it will be. I don't like seeing him like this. "I'll be sure to kick their asses... I'll make them regret that they were ever even born!" Kyle shakes his head at that.

"Revenge is not what I want... I want to forget... I want to go back..." He says and drains his mug of coffee with one last gulp. Kyle is stronger than I initially thought. He's been through so much, and he handles it a lot better than I would... He doesn't even seem to hate the people who hurt him. He doesn't want revenge. All he wants is to be happy again. I'm not sure if I can be of much help at all though...

I drink the rest of my coffee quickly, and I place both of the mugs in the sink, not giving a shit about washing up right now.

"Let's go upstairs... You should shower and then I'll get you some clean clothes... You must feel kinda gross..." I say, and Kyle just nods, before he stands up and he goes upstairs with me.

We walk into my bedroom and I point towards the door to my bathroom.

"You can use whatever you want from in there Kyle... Just take a shower and stuff..." I tell him. He nods and then he starts to walk towards the door. When he turns the door handle I speak again. "Look dude... I have no idea what to do but... Just tell me if you need anything..."

"Thank you Craig... You're a really nice person..." Kyle says before escaping into the bathroom and locking the door behind himself.

I fall back onto my bed. Holy shit... It's hard to believe... It's hard to understand... Poor Kyle... I feel awful and I don't think I've ever been this mad before. But I can't do shit, damn it!

I end up punching the wall behind me in frustration. Damn it!

Kyle's POV:

I sit on the floor in the shower, and the falling water droplets hit me. It feels nice. Craig is nice. But I'm still dirty. Yet Craig doesn't seem to blame me or think that I'm disgusting. Craig isn't looking down on me.

But no matter how many showers I take, I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this filthy. It was even my first time... My virginity.

Most people would've laughed at me, since I was 19 and still a virgin. I wanted to save it for someone I really loved, as cheesy as it may sound. But that ain't happening now.

I cry while sitting here in the shower. It hurts. Both mentally and physically. I feel so filthy and wrong, and my body aches in strange places. Cum and blood is leaking out of my sore asshole... And it's the most disgusting thing I've ever felt. My stomach twist uncomfortably and I'm feeling nauseous.

There is no going back. There is nothing I can do, except for continuing forward. It's too late to change anything.

Going here was a really stupid decision. I didn't get to see Kenny, and I got raped cause he moved away without telling me. I wonder though... Is it Kenny's fault or is it really my own fault that I ended up in this situation? It's probably my own. I neglected one of my best friends so much that I didn't even find out that he moved away... What a lousy friend I am... But I... I didn't deserve this... No one deserves something like this...

Tears continue to spill from my eyes. I wash my body with lots and lots of soap. It feels a little bit better, and it's somewhat satisfying. But I can feel something crawl under my skin, and that doesn't go away, no matter how much I scrub myself with soap. I was filthy when I got into the shower, and I'm still filthy when I get out of it too, although slightly less.

I grab a towel and dry myself off as best as I can. I then wrap it around my hips and just when I'm about to leave the room I take a look at my own face in the bathroom mirror. It doesn't look like me. My skin seems too pale, and my green eyes look so empty and bloodshot. I look like I'm ill or something... All over my body there's marks... Bruises, hickeys, scratches... The proofs of that I've been violated.

I don't at all like looking at my reflection, so I turn around and I open the door. I enter Craig's bedroom again and I close the door behind me.

I notice that there's music playing in the background. It sounds familiar. So familiar. It's that band that Stan got really into about a year ago. Mindless Self Indulgence, I think that's what they're called. The band is alright, and I understand why Craig would like it... Sounds like his type of music.

Everyone knows

What you know

All except me

I look around the room briefly and I find Craig laying on his bed, reading some sort of Marvel comic book. Huh, didn't know Craig liked that kind of stuff...

That ain't right

Let me know

First now do I properly notice what Craig looks like nowadays. He's grown pretty tall, quite a bit taller than me, and he's got some muscles, even though he's still what is classified as "thin". Puberty was nice to Craig. He looks good. No... he looks REALLY good. Even now, with his jet black hair being a complete mess and wearing his pajamas, which consists of a pair of worn out black sweatpants and a t-shirt with a cute kitty on it, he still looks damn good. Yes, you heard it right, Craig fucking Tucker is wearing a kitty shirt...

When I get the respect that I'm due if only for tonight

Watch me mix it

In my basement

Craig's eyes leave the pages of his comic book and he looks towards me. His pale blue eyes meet mine.

"Ehm... Did you have some clothes I could borrow...?" I ask quietly. Craig just nods and points towards a small pile of clothes that is laying on a chair in the corner of the room.

With no makeup

I feel naked now

Ha Ha Ha

"I picked some stuff out..." He says casually. "I hope they fit..." Craig's eyes then go back to the comic book, and I awkwardly start to get dressed. He didn't say a thing about the marks on my body, and I'm thankful for that. It's not something that I'd like to talk about...

The clothes I'm given is a generic black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants... I never would've thought that Craig was the type of guy that likes sweatpants but apparently he is.

I've never really lost the fight

But I've never really won it

Ha Ha Ha

"You should try and get some sleep..." Craig says when I'm done dressing. I look over at him and he puts down the comic book on the bedside table.

"Where should I sleep then...?" I ask him awkwardly.

And die my darling

Ha Ha Ha

P.S Welcome to my life

Craig reaches out and turns off his stereo, just as the song ends.

"Where do people usually sleep?" Craig asks sarcastically and then he jumps off his bed. He makes a hand gesture towards it and walks over to me. "Don't worry... I'll borrow my parents room for the night, so you just relax and sleep in here..." He explains.

His hand reaches up to my head and ruffles my wet, curly hair a little before he starts to walk off. This gesture felt nice, and kinda comforting.

"Thank you Craig..." I tell him.

"No problem... Good night..." He answers as he leaves the room.

"Good night..." I say and then the bedroom door closes in between us.

I feel completely exhausted as I crawl into Craig's bed. I let out a deep sigh and I bury my face in Craig's pillow. The pillow smells just like Craig too. It smells a bit like ashes but it also smells kinda sweet, like his shampoo I guess. Overall I think it's a nice smell.

Is it really okay for me to be here? Is it really okay, after I've become so filthy? Is it really okay to let Craig help me like this? I'm soiled and dirty after all. The crawling feeling underneath my skin is back and it itches strangely. I guess it's just my brain imagining weird things.

I remove my face from the pillow so I can breath properly. I curl up into a little ball and I close my eyes. It's not very easy to fall asleep. It's hard to relax when you feel so horrible about yourself and your mind wanders and thinks about horrible events. My head spins and it's really difficult to breath. I can't calm down properly.

But when I finally do fall asleep, it's not a nice sleep. I'm having a nightmare. And a dark, vivid and scary one at that. I wake up in the morning, sweaty and completely terrified, but I don't remember anything at all from the dream. Nothing whatsoever.