Depths of Gloom (Stan x Kenny)

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A/N: I'm so excited for this Stenny fic, I've been working on it for a few months, and it's my favorite so far!! This story is a lot darker than 86 Feelings, so Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, vulgar language, alcohol abuse, drug addiction, death, self-harm, suicide/suicidal thoughts and physical abuse. All characters are 18.

Stan chose the wrong moment, running right for Kenny as he's hit by a speeding bus; the earbuds didn't help, secluding his brain to the sound of only a calming guitar. He didn't even really see it coming, it was just instinct.

So, when they both woke up somehow, Kenny knew something was wrong. Stan remembered everything - from the moment he screamed how he couldn't take it anymore, to Stan innocently refusing to let him go.

Kenny ruined his life.

He could already hear him, the sobs echoing in his mind: "S-Stan? I'm.. I'm so sorry! You were never supposed to know that I'm immortal, but there's no going back now.. Are you okay?! Fuck! Dude, please snap out of it!"

The other stirred finally, pushing the dirty, shaky hand away from his cheek. "Ken, I'm going to fucking kick your ass!"

They were fighting then, exhausted and confused, Stan had Kenny pinned to the ground, pounding at his chest lazily. It was useless. Kenny was right, there was no going back.

"Stan!" Kenny didn't want to fight - he had become his favorite friend.

Still, he shuddered, unable to look at the blonde he'd known for a lifetime. "Kenny-Kenny, I.. Did we just die?"

How was he supposed to explain this? No one else knew about his immortality. Why did this have to happen to Stan of all people? The person Kenny admired the most out of anyone in South Park was the idiot, borderline-alcoholic teenager who lived a few houses down from him. And now, he would never be the same.

The turmoil was already there, swallowing the light Kenny always looked for. Stan was hollow.

"I'm.. so sorry."

**

He always wanted to change everything. From the moment his parents decided to have him, to right now - Kenny was tired of waking up from death.

It was exhausting. Every damn day he just had to pretend that everything was completely normal, even though that was the furthest thing from the truth. For Kenny, it barely mattered anymore.

Usually, telling himself that worked. Not that morning.

His head was pounding as soon as he woke up; Kenny had spent the night running from the cops with Clyde and Craig, but unbeknownst to them, he'd been shot about seven times in the back by an incompetent rookie officer. He could still feel where the bullets ripped holes through his body. Kenny was drained.

Looking in the dirt smudged mirror in the bathroom, he looked drained, too. Dark circles were sunken in further than usual, and it reminded him of the worries he had for his sister. She also looked like this lately - why was he just realizing this?

Alright, wake up, you stupid fucker. He splashed his face with the always questionable water, doing what he could with the messy, blonde locks crowding into his eyes. Kenny wondered if he should've cared more about how he looked.

The orange sweatshirt that he relied on as his comfort awaited on the bathroom door handle. Kenny scowled at it, hating the look of it today for some unknown reason. His gut told him he didn't need it. And he was right, in a way, it was warm enough for the walk to Stan's a few houses down. He continued to feel.. off, though. Kenny's skin crawled with an intense fear that almost made him turn back to his dilapidated house.