Chapter Index

1. Butters 2. Kenny 3. Butters 4. Kenny 5. Butters 6. Kenny 7. Butters 8. Kenny

-SalemNeko-

"I can't die."

Kenny was raising his eyebrows expectantly at me, as if he had just spoken seriously and was waiting for some sort of reaction. I didn't want to upset him by saying the wrong thing—but honestly, how was I supposed to respond to that? He had just been talking about doing things differently than we had been our entire lives, and now here he was spouting the same line he'd been trying to convince us of since fourth grade.

Although I hadn't heard him mention it for years now, and memories of his past declarations flooded into the forefront of my mind. For a couple of years he had adamantly tried to convince everyone at school of the fact that he couldn't die, but he quit bringing it up suddenly around seventh or eighth grade. We'd all begun to worry about his sanity there around middle school, when Kenny started getting into all sorts of bad drugs and drinking habits.

"Butters?" Kenny asked impatiently. He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, and I resisted the urge to tell him to knock it off; that he was getting blood everywhere in the process. "Should I keep going? Are you listening to a fucking word I'm telling you, at least?"

I nodded, answering both of his questions with an affirmative and began wringing Mysterion's gloves in my hands as Kenny begun his story.

"I don't care whether you believe me or not, but I'm telling the fucking truth, okay? I just figured that after... everything that's gone down," he paused, furrowing his brows as he looked down. "I thought you might remember."

"I'm sorry," I felt compelled to tell him; I wasn't sure if I was supposed to see the emotions flitting across his face, but I could. Kenny had never been very good about hiding his emotions; probably because of the hood he constantly had up around his face had always concealed them for him.

"Don't." He snapped, swatting my hand away when I'd subconsciously begun reaching for him. "That ring is a conductor. It's harnessing the Old One's powers and letting them fuck with our world—because of some shit my parents got into before I was born. Why they would choose you of all people doesn't make any sense, though." He said this last bit to himself. "For the time being, just keep that thing away from me, alright?"

"Well, sure, Ken. But what the heck are you even talking about? Are the Old Ones... those creatures we saw in the other dimension?"

Kenny sighed loudly and stood up. "You know what? I think Henrietta can explain this a lot better than I can. Come by my house tomorrow afternoon and I'll take you to her." Kenny hadn't mentioned working with Henrietta before.

I was a little hesitant to agree, mainly because Henrietta scared me. But Kenny's expression was telling me that I had little choice over the matter anyway, so I nodded. If Kenny was hanging around with her, she must have changed a lot over the years since I'd seen her.

It wasn't until Kenny was walking me home for the night that I realized that, oh yeah, Kenny still set me on edge, and we were supposed to be friends.

I was not looking forward to tomorrow.

All I could coherently ponder as I unlocked the door to my small flat was climbing into my nice, soft bed and crashing. I glanced back at Kenny as I opened the door; he was looking around the building critically. Just his presence in the hallway made it all look smaller than it actually was; like it didn't stand a chance of holding Mysterion's presence alone inside its flimsy walls.

"Do you want some hot cocoa?" I asked. Kenny snapped his gaze back to me, taking a step closer.

"No, I should be getting back home. I don't want Karen to realize I'm out. She'll start making assumptions again." I instinctively took a step back when Kenny continued his pursuit—if I can even call it a pursuit. "Butters," He snapped, stopping me in my tracks with the tone of his voice alone. "Jesus Christ, you're as bad as Tweek sometimes," He smiled fondly, reaching for my side. And oh hamburgers, all at once his hands were on my sides, sliding lower and he leaned closer, the scent of him filling my senses.

"K-Kenny—"

"Oh, here we go—" He leaned forward abruptly, Mysterion's gloves that I'd had in my back pocket now securely in his grasp. "I'll see you tomorrow, Butters." He gave me a grin, like he knew exactly what he'd just done. And I was sure he did, that asshole.

"Bye," I responded, and promptly slammed the door in his face. That would show him, toying with my already screwed up emotions.

My eyes opened the next morning not to the dull, sterile-white ceiling of my apartment, but to the high-ceiling of a building carved out of stone. This could not be happening. I hadn't realized quite how reassuring Kenny's presence had been the last time we'd gone into that alternate dimension, and now that I was in this alone I could feel a panic attack coming on.

I took a deep breath, and willed my shaky legs to work so that I could try and piece together the latest place I'd fallen into. Kenny said that it was him that was his fault that the ring was doing this to us, but I had to disagree at this point.

This place was just as silent as the nameless city had been, and the air was sticky and humid, even inside the temple. The room I was in was blank; all four walls along with the ceiling and floor of this sprawling temple pieced together with limestone. I stood up and tentatively approached the only thing worth noting in the room, a stone square carved out in the center of the floor.

It looked like some sort of trap door, though as hard as I tried, I couldn't manage to get it open. After struggling a few minutes with it the reflective glimmer off something in the darkened corner of the room caught my eye. What else did I have to do at this point but check it out? I was too afraid to go wandering outside of the temple alone—what if more of those creatures were lurking outside?

The object on the floor was a cylinder shaped container; so small, in fact, that I wondered if anything was even held inside the four inch container. I turned it over in my hands, watching the way the iridescent metal reflected in the light. I couldn't recall ever seeing a metal quite like this one—just as I didn't recall seeing that window along the wall on the opposite side of the room, either.

The light pouring in was blindingly bright, and I wondered if I was actually in one of the grand buildings of the nameless city. But no—I quickly dismissed the thought. Those temples had been intricately decorated, built lovingly by the monsters that inhabited them. This place was entirely different. The stonework was primitive at best, with no defining features aside from that square in the center of the room. No paintings on the walls, no sound of water lapping at the banks like the first city, nothing. It was like someone—or something—had built this place only to avoid it entirely.

I blinked against the intensity of the light coming through the window and as my eyes slowly adjusted the world outside came into focus. I was so high up—just looking out the window was enough to give me vertigo, and I grabbed the edge of the open window to keep my balance. Huge basalt cliffs surrounded the Cyclopean stone building, and far, far past the jagged basalt I could make out the vague outline of a primitive village.

A powerful sense of dread overtook me all at once, and I clutched at the window in an attempt to steady myself. The metal cylinder clattered noisily to the ground, drawing a startled yelp from my throat as I jumped from the noise.

The little metal cap on the top of the cylinder had come off with the fall and rolled away, closer to the trap door than I dared to travel presently. Instead I picked up the capless container and tipped it on its side to try and get a peek inside. No way was I just going to dump the contents out without checking what they were first—God only knows what the cylinder could be holding.

It was a scrap of paper. It didn't appear threatening in any way, so I carefully slid the paper out onto my open palm. The scroll in my hand wasn't made out of paper at all; instead it was a membrane-like material that I had a hard time fighting the urge to drop. The bluish-white scroll was strangely smooth as I unraveled it carefully, afraid to damage the thin material. Bold strokes of an ancient language made themselves clear as the scroll unrolled, penned in a grayish ink in a narrow line down the entirety of the scroll. The language was unlike anything I'd ever seen before—except on this ring on my finger.

I held up the hand with the small metal band attached. Now, I was certainly no expert, but the hieroglyphs looked similar enough to me.

With that discovery, something in the room began to change. That same unbearably loud screeching from last time filled the room, bouncing off every available surface and making me drop the cylinder again to cover my ears in pain.

Of course this did me no good, considering the source of the screeching was the ring on my finger, so with a muttered curse I began clawing at the ring in an attempt to get it off. I could hear Kenny in my head, telling me to stop it and what did I think I was going to accomplish and that I needed to calm down, but it was no use. I wasn't sure if it was me or the rumbling that had overtaken the temple that was causing the ring to cry out, but I wanted it to stop.

And it did.

Before I'd even had the time to ponder the reasons for that, a feral moan ghosted it's way through the stone building, reverberating off the walls in a seemingly endless loop. It was coming from the trap door in the middle of the room.

Oh, Jesus Christ—this ring had woken up whatever was under there and now I was going to die. I was going to die without ever finding out why—without getting to put all of my wasted money to use at Tweek's coffee shop, and without ever getting to reconcile with my parents.

The trap door lifted easily, letting the blackness seep into the room. I clenched my eyes shut as I fell to the floor from the power of the tremors; though it could have been the ring's power, at this point I wasn't entirely sure.

The sounds pouring from the trapdoor alone were enough to send me skittering backwards, flinching when my back hit the rough edge of the poorly carved stone behind me. It was a terrible oozing noise—a sucking and pulling that brought silly putty to mind. But there was nothing silly about the creature that was pulling its self out of the cavern below.

Against my better judgment I cracked an eye. Maybe—Maybe it wasn't as bad as the noises were implying? Maybe the ring was taking over my thoughts and this was all in my head.

Or maybe not.

I recoiled at the sight of the—the thing in front of me. It was hard to consider that the amorphous thing in front of me was even alive. It was a huge mass of oozing body parts and tentacles. The creature snapped its multiple sets of jaws at me, and lunged in my direction.

Oh boy, was I lucky that the creature was as slow moving as it was, and that the temple we were in was unnecessarily huge. I was far enough away that even with the creature trying to lunge for me I had enough time and space to make it to the opening of the room.

I had just made it to the bright sunshine of the outside world when out of nowhere Kenny appeared before me. If that weren't strange enough, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me back into the room, back into the monster's sight.

"Where you headed, Butters?" He asked casually, as if it weren't uncommon for us to be meeting up in alternate dimensions and hanging out with creatures that were supposed to be long since extinct in our own time. I guess at this point it wasn't so uncommon and that thought scared me more than the creature that was slowly approaching us. "Didn't you hear? The people of K'naa have chosen you to be the sacrifice to their god."

"W-Wait—Kenny, you can't do this!"

"Do what? Kill you?" The smile on his face did nothing to hide the darkness in his eyes. "You've done it to me dozens of times."

"I don't understand—"

"It's too late. The second you put that ring on your finger, it was too late."

"No!"

I tried to stop him from shoving me into the creature's grasp—but he was right—it was too late; I was already being sucked out of the scene, my soul stolen from my body as my very being was ripped to shreds and reassembled seamlessly.

I was back in my apartment this time; and I clutched at my bedsheets with sweaty palms as I took several deep breaths. That didn't just happen. Kenny hadn't just tried to sacrifice me to that monster of a god, had he?

My phone was sitting on my nightstand next to my bed and I grabbed it with a shaky hand, searching with baited breath until I reached Kenny's name. I hesitated before hitting the send button, only until I realized what a stupid idea it was that Kenny would try to kill me in the first place, and that even if he had, he couldn't try to kill me through the phone as well.

"Hello?" Kenny's voice broke through the static on the other end, but I was too preoccupied to respond. There, on the nightstand next to my keys and my little reading lamp was the scroll, the iridescent metal glittering in the steady sunlight peeking through the curtains. "Butters? Hello?" He waited a couple more seconds for me to respond. "Are you okay? ... I'm coming over."

I choked out, "I-I'm fine. Really." and Kenny sighed knowingly. I could hear shuffling and water running from his house, and then a door open and shut.

"I don't think you are." He responded curtly. "Are you still at home? Just calm your shit for one second, okay?"

"My shit is calm!" I shouted into my phone angrily. I looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall—had I really slept in until one in the afternoon? "Please don't come over, I was just—I didn't mean to call you—"

"Be there in a sec." Kenny hadn't listened to a word I said, and hung up. I was frantic, it would only take Kenny ten minutes tops to make his way over, and that wasn't long enough for me to get anywhere that he couldn't find me easily. Not that I was going to run away from Kenny McCormick for the rest of my life, mind you.

The cylinder sat on my nightstand tauntingly as I stood up and shakily pulled open my dresser drawers to find actual clothes before Kenny showed up. I wondered if maybe he'd forget just how to get here, considering that it had been so dark last night when he walked me home. I could only hope.

I'd had enough time to start a pot of Tweek Bros. Coffee and catalog a mental list of all the items in my living room that I could use as a potential weapon if it came to that, when Kenny knocked on my door.

"Dude, what the fuck?" He asked as I opened the door the tiniest amount to peek up at him.

"See? I'm fine, Ken. You can run along now; you've done your good deed for the day and checked up on poor little Butters," I tried to shut the door, but Kenny's open palm pushed it open further before I could stop him.

"What's wrong? Did I... upset you last night? You know I was just fucking around, right?" I felt my face flush at the memory of last night.

"I don't care about that." I spat. "I mean, I do," I paused, unsure of how to continue this train of thought. Kenny grinned pushing the door open with his hip and wrapping an arm around my shoulders like he had done last night—in that other world. I instantly pulled away. "Where were you last night?"

"What are you talking about? Jesus, you really aren't okay, are you?"

"It doesn't matter whether or not I'm okay. I need to know, alright? Where did you go after you left my apartment?"

"I went home! Just like I told you I was going to do! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He watched me like I was about to go feral on him, and I supposed that I was. That scroll on my nightstand wasn't a figment of my imagination; what happened in that other dimension was real. I left Kenny sitting at my kitchen table while I fetched said scroll, and slammed it down on the table before him.

"This. I went—somewhere last night." I could feel my voice cracking, and Kenny looking up at me with worried eyes. Oh god. It couldn't have been Kenny trying to kill me. It just wasn't possible; nobody could look at someone they had just tried to kill with such a genuinely concerned expression. "You were there—" He cut me off; knew I was about to start babbling.

"No, I was at home all night. I would have remembered this," Kenny held up the cylinder, watching the reflecting light just as I had earlier.

"But I saw you," I sat down in the chair beside him, and Kenny scooted his chair closer to mine without thinking. "You—you tried to kill me!"

"What?" He sounded almost angry. Like just the fact that I'd suggested the idea was threatening his honor or something. "Butters. I would never do that."

And I believed him; I really did. "Like you would never throw a ninja star in my eye?" I couldn't help bringing it up; to this day I couldn't see out of my left eye because of that incident, and the follow-up of the guys not wanting to get in trouble and taking me to a vet rather than a hospital.

"Damn it—look. I'm sorry about that. I've apologized to you before, and this is the last fucking time. You can't keep holding that shit over me like this! We were kids."

"You were old enough to know better."

Kenny's phone broke the tense atmosphere as Keith Urban's Better Life begun blasting from the tiny speakers. He looked sharply at me before answering the call. "What?" A female voice on the other end responded just as fiercely, and Kenny sighed. "I'm sorry, Karen. We'll be down in a sec." They said their farewells and Kenny slipped the phone back into his pocket and stood up. "C'mon, dude. We don't have time for this right now."

"You brought Karen along?" I stared up at him, wide-eyed, as he gently ushered me out of my chair and poured me a cup of coffee. "Why on earth would you bring Karen with you?"

"I couldn't just leave her at home to rot while we go see the new Terrance and Phillip movie, could I? How much sugar do you want?"

"I drink it black," I told him, accepting the cup and chuckling at the face he made at me. "Thank you," I said quietly, looking up at him over the rim of my favorite coffee mug. Kenny looked back, another of those half-smiles on his lips, as if he'd just been let in on the greatest secret ever.

"Okay, get your shit and let's get the fuck out of here!" I didn't reprimand his vulgar language, or the fact that his hand strayed just a little too low on my back as he ushered me out the front door a couple of minutes later.

"Butters Stotch?" The McCormick who was waiting beside a beat up Honda Civic looked nothing like the girl I remembered when I'd left. As Karen looked me over with wide eyes I couldn't help but blush and shift my weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. Kenny gave his sister a look, one I couldn't fully comprehend; but she seemed to understand well enough.

She sure was a pretty little thing, with big gray eyes so similar to her brother's. She really did look like Kenny, except where her brother was rough edged and seemed to have the uncanny ability to cut through my heart with the slightest glance, Karen was softer and her presence was much more inviting, if the slightest bit guarded nevertheless. Her long golden-brown hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, and a few pieces had come loose, framing her face gently. I didn't think she'd done it intentionally, but either way she looked particularly more beautiful and grown up since I'd seen her last.

"Holy shit—you look like... an adult!" She exclaimed. "Kenny didn't tell me we were picking you up!"

"Stop cussing, damn it." Kenny told his sister fondly as we climbed into the car. Wrappers and garbage littered the back seat, and Kenny looked back at me with an apologetic glance as I scooted it all to one side of the seat. "Who else would we be picking up? Stan and Kyle are living the married life; and no way in hell is the fatass coming with us."

"Right; I always forget you guys don't actually like him." Karen laughed. I tuned out their quiet conversation as I watched the scenery blur by out the window.

The cylindrical container was in my pocket, the unforgettable weight resting against my thigh. I wondered if Kenny would want to talk to Henrietta about it; she couldn't really be left in the dark—but at the same time... I looked up at Kenny through the rear view mirror, and his eyes met mine through the glass, as if he'd sensed I was seeking him out.

I held his gaze—until a honk from the car behind us jolted him back to reality. He let out a short curse, and looked back to the road once more.

When we showed up at the theater Stan, Kyle, Wendy, and Ike were already waiting for us. I felt so out of place in such a huge group; as a child these situations never seemed to bode well for me and even now I found myself walking a couple of paces behind Kenny and Karen.

Ike spotted the three of us first—and he flagged us over, giving me a look in the process. It took me a second to realize just what that look meant, and then it hit me. Eric had told me explicitly that I was to stay away from Kenny; and here I was, hanging out with him in front of Ike.

"Leopold," He started, already preparing to launch into a rant as soon as we were close enough. Kyle knocked him on the head with a fist.

"Knock it off, Ike. Stop calling him that, it's weird." Ike glared at his brother, but he wasn't really upset; I had been on the receiving end of that look myself dozens of times. "It took you guys long enough, Jesus Christ."

"Sorry; had to get sleeping beauty here out of bed." Kenny jerked a thumb in my direction, and I looked away as everyone in the group glanced at me.

"I-uh. Stayed up too late last night." I felt the need to justify the fact to the group. I'd always felt the need to justify myself to them, and I was beginning to realize that I was getting sick of having to do so.

"Leopld," Ike started again, dragging me by the arm away from Kenny's side. "Buy our tickets, will you, Kyle?" I looked up at Kyle with a shrug and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Jesus, my brother is a spaz," I heard Kyle groan before Ike dragged me completely out of earshot.

"Dude, what the fuck do you think you're doing." He let go of my arm and I rubbed at the red mark he'd left behind. "Eric is going to beat the shit out of Kenny if you don't leave him be, you know that, right?" I was pretty sure Ike wasn't as concerned for Kenny's sake as much as he was for my own, but he'd never outright admit it.

"I'm pretty sure that Kenny could take Eric any day," I responded curtly, crossing my arms as Ike sighed loudly. He was so much like his brother sometimes, it was scary. "Besides, what does it matter to Eric who I hang around with? He never cared when I was living in LA."

"It wasn't important then, Leopold. Just listen to me, alright?" Ike tapped his foot on the cement sidewalk and glanced back at the group behind us before continuing, "Eric's got something big in the works going on here, and Mysterion's been caught screwing with his plans on more than one occasion. Judging from Kenny's demeanor, I'd say he isn't entirely aware of the situation he's in at the moment, but you are. We can't have him messing things up so close to the election. Either stay away from him, or keep him out of our business. Or Eric will make sure he does both." Ike patted me on the shoulder. "I only want what's best for you, dude. You know that, right?"

I did know, but goddammit, I was sick of everyone in my life telling me exactly what to do and when to do it. Kenny was right when he'd said that sometimes we all needed to play pretend once in a while to get away from it all. I felt bad doing it to Ike, but I had no other choice. "I know, Ike. I appreciate what you're doin' for me, bringin' this to my attention before Eric has a chance to yell at me for it. You're a great friend."

Ike preened at the compliment as we returned to the group. Wendy and Stan were arguing, as usual—I'd hoped she would have come to realize by now that Stan was and would always be Stan. He was never going to change, he was never going to quit drinking, or quit putting his friends—Kyle—over her. She looked over at me briefly, flashing a halfhearted smile in my direction before attempting to regain control over her unruly boyfriend.

"Here," Kyle snapped, handing Ike both of our tickets, who in turn passed mine to me.

"Thanks, Kyle. I'll pay you back for it, I swear. If someone had taken the time to remind me yesterday that we were going to the movies, or hadn't rushed me out of my apartment this morning—"

"Hey, don't blame me for this, Butters. You'd have been dead in the water without me." He stopped, and blinked, and I caught the double meaning in his words instantly.

"You're right." I looked away bashfully at the blindingly honest smile he flashed me, "I never said thank you."

"Well," Ike cut in, "As awesome as listening to the two of you confess your undying gay love for one another, I think the movie is starting soon. Let's get a move on, yeah?"

"I-Ike!" I was mortified at the thought. That little know-it-all; thinking that I was going to sit by and let him harass me like this because I'd agreed to do what Eric asked of me!

"Ike Broflovski?" Karen asked, peeking around her older brother. "I haven't seen you in ages! Ruby told me you'd moved to Washington to work for some big political campaign crew."

Ike gave her a once over, much to the utter disdain of Kenny, and smiled. "Yeah, I've been doing something along those lines."

The seven of us filed into the theater, Ike flirting with Karen like I'd never seen him do before; Wendy and Stan were bickering like an old married couple; and Kyle watching both couples with a worried expression as he glanced back at Kenny and I, who were bringing up the rear of the group.

Karen laughed as Ike leaned in close, telling her something too low for Kenny and me to hear, at least.

"Oh—Jesus Christ." Kenny growled under his breath. "Kyle, tell your brother to knock it the fuck off. I'm right here!"

Kyle shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what you want me to do about it, dude."

"Maybe I can help." All seven of us turned at the addition of Eric—who was already waiting by the ticket checker with a tub of popcorn in one hand and a drink in the other.

"Oh, hey, dude." Ike grinned as Eric gave him a curt nod.

"Butters, damn it!" Stan groaned at the same time. Jeez, everyone always acted like I was his keeper or something. I was honestly as surprised to see him here as I was to be here in the first place.

"I swear I had no idea he was showin' up!" I felt obligated to explain when Kyle sent me a frown as well.

"Don't get your panties in a bunch; Ike invited me, dickwads." Eric explained curtly. Beside me, Kenny grimaced as Eric shoved his soda into my hands and wormed his way between Kenny and myself. At least Ike had the sense to look somewhat apologetic as all eyes turned to him.

"I can't believe you guys; trying to see Terrance and Phillip without me. I thought we were friends!" Eric ranted as we passed the ticket checker and continued into the actual theater.

Everyone had fallen silent at his arrival, as if Eric being around signified the end of the world or something. Or at least the end of the relatively peaceful time we'd been having beforehand. From the looks of it, the only one who was relatively happy at his arrival was Kenny; who I realized, was probably more pleased with the fact that Ike was leaving his baby sister alone.

"Right. Like any of us would willingly call you a friend." Wendy retorted smartly. Eric spun to face her, cheeks reddening in anger.

"Shut up, ho! I seem to recall you having no trouble spending hours at my house when your little Stanny was away at school." Wendy's cheeks were quickly turning a matching shade at the revelation, and Stan was turning on her with brows furrowed. This was quickly turning into something that none of the rest of us were looking to get involved in.

"Wendy? What the fuck is he talking about?" Stan finally asked. He looked so heartbroken; I couldn't look at his expression for more than a moment. Kyle put a hand on Stan's shoulder; they were always there to support one another.

"Stan, listen. It was a long time ago—"

"Oh, of course. I mean, it's not like we weren't dating for an entire year and a half while I was away at school or anything."

I tapped Ike on the shoulder, and he immediately knew what I wanted, shuffling quietly past the three of them and into a seat close to the middle of the theater. He stole Eric's drink out of my hand as I plopped down into the seat beside him, and slurped loudly.

"Damn, those three are more interesting than the movie's going to be." He stated. Ike frowned slightly as Kenny took the seat next to me. The movement was so slight, I probably wouldn't have noticed it if I hadn't been watching him beforehand.

"You aren't interested in the movie?" Karen asked, leaning over Kenny, to get a better look at Ike as she spoke. "But—aren't you Canadian?"

"So?" Ike drawled. "Do you like the Kardashians just because they're American?" Karen's face fell. I know Ike wasn't trying to be a jerk, but the things he said tended to come out pretty mean at times.

"I like the Kardashians." I chimed in. Ike let out a bark of laughter.

"It doesn't matter what you think, Leopold. I thought women weren't your forte?" I frowned.

"I'd make an exception for Kim."

"Wait." Kenny leaned over the armrest separating us, invading my space and making me lean into Ike. "You're... gay?"

"Well—I wouldn't say gay, exactly." Did everything Kenny said always have to get me flustered?

"No, not gay. He just gets a strong hankering for dick is all." Ike said bluntly, and Karen burst out laughing.

"It's really not a big deal," I was twisting my hands in my lap again, looking down at the sticky floor of the theater. I risked a glance at Kenny, who was oddly silent. He was still leaning into my space, his grey eyes dark and calculating and doing funny things to my insides again. "I've been out for almost five years now." A flicker of something passed through his eyes, and I quickly looked away again, snatching Eric's drink back from Ike as an excuse.

The movie started up then, and before long Eric came up in the row behind us to sit, snapping angrily at Ike and me for drinking nearly half of his soda. Wendy, Stan, and Kyle never did show back up.

"Butters. You haven't been very truthful with us, have you?" Eric frowned over the tops of his reading glasses at me. After the movie Eric had dragged me away from Kenny and Karen, saying he wanted to discuss something. He had called me into his office, like a principal calling a student in for a scolding. Except, this was Eric, and his scoldings usually included something much worse than a stern talking to.

"Well gee, Eric, I have no idea what you're talkin' about." I'd told Ike I would leave Kenny alone; now that he was off my back, I had to do the same to Eric. I suppose my response wasn't exactly what Eric wanted to hear, because he let out a long sigh and took the glasses that were perched precariously on the edge of his nose and set them on the desk as he leaned closer to me.

"What I'm talking about is Mysterion."

I could feel my heart skip a beat as I let out a breathy, "Oh."

"Oh? So why don't you tell us all about what Mysterion and his new little sidekick I've been hearing so much about are plotting? Since you seem to be such good friends with him all of a sudden."

Oh no. Now, I know I hadn't exactly sworn to Kenny that I wouldn't tell Eric what was going on with this ring and the trips to the other dimensions and, well, with us; but it seemed like the kind of thing he'd tell me not to mention to anyone. Kenny was keeping his identity a secret from Henrietta, after all, and I knew he trusted her more than Eric. But I was such a bad liar, especially when it came to Eric.

I blurted out the first thing that popped into my head. "I-I'm sleepin' with him. Mysterion—Kenny, I mean." Eric raised an eyebrow. "He's got a thing for costumes." I felt my face catch fire at the thought. Kenny did look pretty good in that costume of his; I'd admit it to myself, at least. Eric regarded me carefully, and then leveled a glance at Ike who was loitering nearby for his input.

"Yeah, right." Ike snorted. Damn that kid, he was just too smart for his own good sometimes. "You sleeping with McCormick? Oh, right. I forgot to mention that I'm fucking Eric."

"Don't call me Eric, douchebag." Eric snapped. Ike spat a curse in response, effectively distracting Eric from Mysterion and our entire conversation. I briefly considered the possibility that Ike was covering for me on purpose—but what reason would he have for that? There was nothing for him to gain from doing something as nice as that for someone like me.

That was one reason in particular that Ike and Eric were such good friends—though Eric would spend forever and a day denying the fact, insisting that they were only business associates and nothing more. Ike was only interested in Eric's business ventures if there was something for him to gain from them, and Eric was more than willing to bring someone in on his projects if they were going to do their jobs and earn their keep—and keep their mouths shut.

I can still remember when the pair of us—Eric and I—had been in high school, and Ike had just started coming around. He was such a sweet kid. A little cynical, but I suppose I was too, what with the drama my parents were constantly causing around the house at that point. Despite what people might think about me and Ike, the way we think about things—about life—are pretty darn similar. We're both just trying to make the world a better place in our own respective ways.

I looked at Ike, who was still holding his own in a verbal fight against Eric. He noticed my attention and smiled back at me with that little knowing grin of his. Jeez, sometimes I wanted to give that kid a verbal lashing of my own.

"Butters." Eric turned to me and the smile on my lips died. "I don't know what it is that you and Mysterion think you're planning, but whatever it is it ends now. We don't need anything disrupting this year's election. So I need you to distract him—I don't care how. He seems interested in you; keep him off our trail."

"But Eric, you haven't even told me what this is about!" He wasn't usually this secretive with me, and it hurt to see that I'd essentially been replaced with Ike in my four year absence. Not that being Eric's right hand man was something particularly appealing in any sense, but it had been a part of my life for so long now that I wasn't sure what to do without him.

"Just do it, god dammit! I can always have my men go rougher on him next time, if that'll make things easier on you? Shoot on first sight? We've got enough to cover an accidental death, right Ike?" Ike looked between the two of us before nodding slightly. "Right." He nodded decisively—to himself, or me, I wasn't sure.

Kenny said he couldn't die. But I wasn't willing to take that risk—it was up to me to protect him this time.

 

• « Previous Chapter
• Next Chapter »