Depths of Gloom (Stan x Kenny)

2

He found Kenny, nearly tripping on a metal piece from the wreckage as he ran to him. Stan was quick to demand him on his feet, pulling at his shirt collar with more strength than he usually had.

"Stan?" Kenny croaked through the sobs, grasping the hand on his shirt.

Still unable to meet his eyes, Stan continued pulling him in a different direction. "We-We have to get out of here! I.. We can't explain this! Holy shit, I'm-I'm freaking out, Kenny! What's going on?!"

"Your place! Let's go to your place!" Kenny was desperate to get away from the area too, the scene playing over and over in his head was going to make him walk into another bus. The fact that he could even think that again made him hate himself.

They sprinted until their lungs hurt. It was a reminder that they were alive. Kenny didn't want the reminder though, he would've given anything to save Stan from this.

But, collapsed in the front yard of Stan's house now, he couldn't wrap his head around a damn thing. Kenny never understood his immortality, and this just made it all the more complicated, leaving him with more questions than answers. It was what he deserved, he figured.

They laid in the grass for longer than necessary. Kenny was afraid to breathe, or move too much. If Stan looked at him with that same defeated expression again, Kenny swore he'd lose it. Next time, there would be no bus, just absolute annihilation of self.

"How long?" Stan managed finally. It was barely above a whisper.

Kenny sat up, his back mostly to the other. "Ever since I can remember."

"What?"

He had to turn around to face the reaction. Kenny owed him that, and as he turned to find tears uncontrollably falling from Stan's eyes, he flinched again. No.. "I'm so sorry! I-"

It wasn't that surprising when the other tackled him again, pounding at his face this time with uninterrupted tears soaking Kenny. He took the punches. The blood didn't bother him anymore.

Stan stopped with his fist pulled back, realizing what he was doing as he looked at the violence covering his hand. He staggered back, falling onto the grass again. "Fuck! Ken.. Why the hell didn't you tell me?!"

Kenny was confused. "I have! You never remember!" It stunned the other to silence, of course. "Why would I want you to remember, or know anyway?!"

"I could've-" He cut himself off, snapping his mouth closed. Stan knew there was nothing he could've done. "We.. We gotta talk about this more! Please, stay the night, I'm fucking scared! Why am I alive?! I was dead, Kenny!"

Did I do something to make this happen? Should I explain any of that to him? Kenny knew he had to tell him everything now. "I'll stay the night."

It didn't matter that Stan's parents were guaranteed to be pissed that they skipped school, something like that seemed so trivial after coming back from the dead. The only thing that mattered to either of them, was keeping this from everyone else. For the second time in their lives, they had sworn themselves to secrecy without ever having to discuss it.

He expected Stan to hate him, to sprint in the opposite direction for the rest of their lives; it scared Kenny more that his best friend was insistent on making him stay the night. He didn't deserve it.

I killed Stan.. Kenny replayed it in his head endlessly. I snapped. I wasn't supposed to kill myself in front of him. Why did I do that?

"Come on.." Stan was waiting at the top of the steps to the second floor, his red rimmed eyes frantically absorbing every piece of reality they could. He was still in a type of denial.