Heavy Is The Cost

He first meets Death on a Monday morning like any other.

Cartman shouting, Stan still half-asleep, and Kenny reading a porn magazine. It is normal and Kyle likes it, though they've waited by the bus stop for years now. Kyle yawns, ignoring Cartman's rehearsed comments and stares across the road. He wants the bus to arrive; it's cold and icy, which is never a good combination for him. To prove a point, the wind suddenly picks it up a few notches, almost knocking even Cartman over. Kyle curses because he just really wants to go to school.

"Fucking wind." Cartman yells at nothing, and Kyle laughs. It's fairly normal in their eyes, and so he takes his eyes off the road for a few goddamn seconds to roll his eyes, maybe snatch Kenny's magazine away.

That was his first mistake.

There's a screech of tyres and Kyle knows something is wrong before he turns around, because why would a bus be moving that fast? He knows it's a bus because of the tar like smell surrounding it that he always hated.

Stan's eyes widen almost comically and he pushes Kyle further away from the road. The force sends them both falling to the ground, and Kyle gets a glimpse of Cartman's boots flash past him before the tar-like smell is much stronger – too close.

He feels a tyre scrape his shoe and the hot engine on his legs, but then it is gone. He doesn't look up, keeping his head firmly planted in the snow, until Stan shakes his shoulder. His face is pale when he looks up at him.

"Dude..." Stan's voice is quiet. Kyle follows his gaze, expression mirroring Stan's.

Tyre marks just miss his entire body, almost unnaturally. Kenny's magazine got it worse than him, all torn up on the floor. Heck, even Kenny had been safer than him in that moment, and this was Kenny freaking McCormick, the one that always died.

"It almost got you." Kenny says under his parka, his voice muffled.

It's then, on that almost-regular Monday morning that he first sees Death.

He was standing across the road, looking like how everyone thought he would be. A long scythe in one hand, folds of black fabric surrounding him. Kyle is oddly at peace with his appearance, staring deep into where his eyes should be.

Stan speaks again, saying something Kyle doesn't acknowledge, and Death is gone.

"Talk to us Jew!" Cartman shouts. Kyle slowly turns to him, the feeling not quite leaving him. He blinks, staring up at his three friends. He takes Kenny's offered hand, pulling himself up.

"What do you want me to say?" The feeling is gone and anger replaces his shock fast. "We all almost got hit by a fucking bus!"

What he said was true – all of them had almost died those few minutes ago. Yeah, Kyle came the closest to getting ploughed, but if the bus was moved slightly...they would all be roadkill.

"Shit dude." Stan sighs, running a hand down his face. He pinches the bridge of his nose, a habit that had never quite died from when he was younger.

"Aw come on, now we have to walk to school?!" Cartman's words are a quick change of mood. The bus is nowhere to be seen, and it is almost forgotten by all of them. The experience of near death was fading from their minds. Old news.

"Fuck you Cartman." Kyle could only say, folding his arms. "Fuck you."

"Shut up Jew!" Cartman retorts, and just like that it's a normal Monday morning again. The blood stained image of Death, however, stays in Kyle's consciousness. He thinks he catches a glimpse of Death again, but the second's over and he's gone. He thinks that he had escaped.