The people that you must remember (Kenny x Reader) (COMPLETE)

Tim, Tim, Timmy!

"(Y/N)."

Oh. Great. Just as you were leaving your dorm to go grab some tacos, Professor Timothy just HAD to contact you, didn't he. You sighed and tilted your head, debating if you needed to like..speak out loud to communicate with him.

"Your thoughts are fine, (Y/N). Plus, it'll keep people from thinking you're completely bat shit crazy."

"Oh! Cool! So, uh..what do you need, Tim?"

"Meet me at Token's house."

Uuuuuugh. There went your plans.

"I have tacos for you."

".....Fine."

You left your dorm and started the trek across town, pepper spray in pocket. Knowing that Ken-er..Mysterion, was out patrolling the nights made you feel safer, sure, but a girl should still have a way to defend herself. Technically, everyone should still have a way to defend themselves. Fuck being a victim. You thought about that as you passed the local park again. As you glanced at the swings, you vaguely remembered Butters, and pushing him off the swings at the behest of Eric Cartman. Eric Cartman, who laughing his fat ass off as poor, sweet Butters smashed his face against the dirt, getting a bloody nose.

Fuck being a victim.

You arrived to Token's house, the guard let you in through the gate and then Token himself let you inside. He seemed awkward, having you in his house. "Uh..Timmy wanted this to be a private meeting so..here's the stairs down to the Freedom Pals base, which you already knew, and uh..I'll be in my room when you guys are done." "Yeah..thanks.." You honestly felt just as awkward. Imagine having a private conversation in your own house that you couldn't be a part of. Weird. You offered Token a thin smile, which he returned, and then you started down the stairs.

"(Y/N), hello." Tummy greeted you as you reached the last step. He sat at the large center table, a bag of Freeman's tacos set out for you. You plopped in one of the empty seats and grabbed the bag, tearing into it. "Hi. So, what's going on?" "I wanted to ask how you were before we get into the meat and potatoes of this meeting. After what Cartman did and the discovery of Tiger's body, I'm sure things haven't been easy for you." You just gave a shrug, taking a bite of the first taco. It was crunchy and cheesy, but no sour cream. Thank god. You hated sour cream. "You guessed right, Tim Tim. Everything has been hot shit, but I'll live. I have a therapy meeting tomorrow which I will talk about this stuff. So, what do you want."

"Mysterion almost beat Eric Cartman to death."

"Fuckin' good." You replied, trying to keep bits of taco from falling out of your mouth. "Next time he should finish the job. The only one that would miss that sack of shit is his mother, and I'm sure she'd get over it after seeing how much better her life is without him."

"...Fair. Anyway. I wanted to ask if you had any ideas about Tiger's death?" Timmy asked, choosing, rather tactfully, to not comment too much on your bitter words. You paused and then swallowed your mouthful of taco. "I found a forum board online, and someone said that it's a serial killer. They even gave me a list of victims." "A serial killer in South Park..this isn't going to bode well for our sleepy little mountain town."

Sleepy isn't the word you would have used..

"The last time we had a serial killer here, the bus driver was murdered. Cartman was almost killed as well."

You bit your tongue, though Timmy knew damn well you wished Cartman had been killed. It would've made your life SO much easier if that fat fuck was just gone. Instead, you asked, "What do we do? The police officers in this town are a joke." "We will likely have to handle it ourselves." You bawked at that. "We? As in US? No offense, Tim Tim, but what the HELL are we supposed to do? Does anyone else here even have powers besides you?" "Mysterion does. He can't die.." Timmy replied after a pause. He had been debating even telling you. "I realize that such a claim is hard to believe, but I-"

You were back at church, your foster mother's hand clutching your shoulder. You could feel the pain as she dug her nails into your skin, despite knowing this wasn't real. This was just a memory. But it felt real. It always felt real. Things were no longer fuzzy and as you turned your head, you saw him staring at you with those blue eyes, the only part of him visible underneath that ridiculous orange parka. His eyes were quizzical and almost concerned. Almost. You watched in silence as he, distracted by you, didn't notice the large BMW backing up until it struck him. He tumbled over onto the ground, a horrific crunching noise filling the air as the tire came down over his head.

"I believe you." You sighed, your shoulders slumping slightly. "I..I've seen it. I think."

Timmy..you couldn't really read his expression since it..rarely ever chances, but something told you he was startled by your comment. "You've..seen it? And remember? Nobody ever remembers." "I think I saw him get run over at church when we were little. I could be wrong, though." Timmy was quiet for a moment, then turned his wheelchair away, facing Mysterion's desk. "No..I believe you as well. Somehow it makes sense that you would remember. How do you..currently feel about him?"

Good question.

"...I don't know."

Timmy seemed to nod, turning back to you now. "Well..I think you two made a good couple. Either way, he will be aiding us in the troubles ahead so..consider your relationship carefully, (Y/N). Goodnight."

You sighed as you left Token's house, walking back towards the school. You slid an earbud in and munched quietly on your tacos, bag in hand, and found yourself thinking about what Timmy had told you.

How many times has Kenny died?

Please eat your greens,
And don't sit close to screens,
Your eyes are a means to an end.
And I would be sorry, if due to your hurry,
You were hit by a lorry my friend.Like you always say,
Safe travels, don't die, don't die,
Safe travels, don't die.