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sansxfuckyou · 7 months

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Compact Confessional

Summary: Mysterion is holding something from the rest of the Freedom Pals. They should respect his privacy, they really should- but they only take it as a challenge.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, privacy breach, betrayal of trust, swearing, feral behavior (in Kite), the authors attempt at humor, heavy guilt, interrogation, it gets worse but then it gets better guys, I promise

Authors Note: hurgh K2, with the additional flavor of kitesterion because I went batshit over the AU to an insane degree. I have no clue when the Ao3 port is dropping. Sorry if some of the colored text, isnt colored. And fair warning, this badboy levels around 10K words, tumblr starts to lag around 7.5K for anyone curious. it is almost 3 AM (do artists ever stay up insanely late to finish big projects and get so sleepy they forget the hotkey for the eraser tool? I wouldn't know, but somewhere along the line I kept trying to write segue way with a Q because I was fucking disoriented) I need to go to sleep right the fuck now

Mysterion is keeping something from the Freedom Pals, he's keeping something from all of them. Maybe if he was willing to talk about it with someone everyone wouldn't find it so intriguing. Maybe then everyone wouldn't want to know what it is that's so fucking important that no one is allowed to know about it.

Super Craig tries to act like it's nothing super big, aware that if everybody paid no mind to it that it might come out faster. Tupperware followed suite with the idea, Wonder Tweek tagging in as well. Other members of their franchise were a lot less… subtle, about their interest in Mysterions secret, whatever it is. The Coon is practically begging him every single day to tell him what it is, Call Girl even joins in. Toolshed is pretty sure the both of them are just making things worse it they want Mysterion to come clean.

Human Kite is the only one that refuses to meddle at all, even Doctor Timothy has tried getting a peek in Mysterions mind. The alien is the only one that sits there and listens to him bitch about how annoying they are. The only one that pauses to look and listen and take in every visual and audible cue because that's what he's known to do since he first landed way back when. It tells him a lot about his teammates if nothing else.

Still.

Mysterion- no, Kenny McCormick is hiding something from his friends. And given the fact that it's barely coming out even when he's in a state of delirium or terribly wounded, it must be something big.

It's starting to piss off Kyle a little bit.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting me hang out for a bit man," Kenny said as he pulled on his orange parka. He opted to leave his bleached cargo shorts and purple everything else in a pile on Kyles bedroom floor. It was easy to do that when the alien offered to wash them, "Chilling with Cartman all the time definitely does not do wonders for ones mental health."

Kyle gives a laugh, the kind that leaves teeth too sharp on full display. "Totally, I swear to fuck that asshole needs therapy," He stills his tail from wagging like he's a little kid, except, when he was a little kid he tied his tail up so it wouldn't be exposed in an all too human world. An extremely uncaring world for anything different then what they know as normalcy.

"He needs so much therapy," Kenny answered with, "See you tomorrow?"

"On our patrol, I'll make sure your suit is washed," Kyle said, throwing an arm to the side, an invitation for a hug. He wouldn't be sad if Kenny didn't take it, but he still can't help the way his heart skips several beats when he gets one. An anchoring tightness enveloping him, squeezing a comfortable amount on his rib cage that would hurt if he was human.

"Thanks Kyle," Kenny said quietly, head propped near Kyles shoulder but not quite tall enough to rest it on top. He pushes himself on his tippy toes to press the top of his head to the bottom of Kyles chin. He takes a dramatic step back and maybe Kyles tail is swaying a little bit with a silky soft comfort residing on his skin. He clasps his hands together, "Tomorrow."

"Yeah man, see you then," Kyle said, the instant he realized his tail was doing the thing he stilled it entirely. He felt a slight singe of cyan embarrassment. Stupid alien anatomy. Giving away how he feels.

Kenny pivots on his heel and gives a wave, "See ya man!" His steps are light and Kyle is watching with maybe a little bit too much intent.

He has zero legal rights to do so, but emotional and psychological rights? He has plenty. The first one being that he might've imprinted on Kenny the second his family landed on earth. He might've latched onto both Mysterion and Kenny like an orphan duckling in his childhood era of existing- so much so that he couldn't help the absolute giddiness when he learned they were the same. Maybe he got a little bit too attached to Kenny compared to everyone else in a human sense. But in an alien sense, in his instinctual sense, he was the perfect amount of attached considering how he thought of Kenny.

The second reason he stared was because Kenny had an undeniably amazing ass. That wasn't just personal opinion either, they held a vote after a particularly odd argument in the Freedom Pals lair. Kenny won by an absolute fucking landslide in the votes and voter fraud having taken place can't be confirmed or denied by anyone.

Except for Doctor Timothy of course.

And if there is a god, Kyle is praying everyday that the human one makes sure that Doctor Timothy doesn't look into the legitimacy of the votes.

Kyle barely drags himself back from his thoughts, he's been told he can get lost in them sometimes. His tail is wagging again, the multicolored diamond-like frills undulate a little bit. He swings the front door shut reluctantly when he can't see Kenny anymore. He tugs off his gloves and tosses them in a pile alongside his hat, letting the splotchy cyan coloration of his skin show. He makes his way up to his bedroom, but he finds his impossibly human little brother standing in his doorway.

"Ike, get out of the way," Kyle said sternly, giving a bit of a growl under his voice. His adoptive brother just quirks a brow in that annoying manner he learned from the humans.

Ike clears his throat, "No."

"Well why not?" Kyle questioned, growl snuffed and replaced with something louder and more resonant, it vibrated in his brothers flesh. It was something that Ike long since lost the ability to be intimidated by.

"When are you gonna stop inviting over your little posse of partners eh?" Ike asked, crossing one arm over the other. His tone was nothing but accusatory, Kyle saw through it.

"Are you jealous?" Came Kyles instant reaction.

"No," Ike responded with far too fast to be true.

"I'll play some video games with you on Thursday," Kyle offered.

Ike moved out of the way, "Enjoy wallowing in your disgusting room bud."

Kyle ignored him with nothing more than an eye roll, he made a point of slamming his door shut. He kicked aside a small heap of whatever, a mix of something or other he'd been intending to clean up. He gently picks up a small stack of comics Kenny had lent him and places them on his desk. Right beside the Mysterion charm. And the Mysterion action figure. And the other pieces of shitty Mysterion merchandise he had bought.

Okay, yeah, maybe he had a little bit too much Mysterion merchandise. He was just trying to put some extra cash into Kenny's pocket for when money is tight around the house. He just wanted to make sure his best friend was living a decent life, it wouldn't be enough to give him the life Kyle knew Kenny deserved, but it would help.

He takes hold of Kennys outfit and empties the contents of the pockets into a small bin. Loose change, granola bar wrappers, pocket knife, lock pick, the usual stuff he carried around for hero duties and then some. Kyle shakes the hood loose of any twigs or leaves and something large enough to clatter as it hits the metal netting of the bin falls out. His pointed ear gives a flick at the noise, he's dropping to the ground and pulling it out in a second.

He's completely enveloped in the mystery of what was hidden in Kennys hood because A: fucking genius hiding spot, and B: this could be what Kenny was hiding. It could be exactly what Kenny was trying so hard to keep under the radar, what he successfully kept hidden from everyone's prying eyes.

He came up with a tape, jet black, scratched plastic and a cracked see through window bit. There are silver markings across the black, seemingly unpredictable and laid out with either sharpie ink or a paint pen. The paper label is coffee stained and reads the date, recorded last month (why it's still on Kennys person is odd). The log number is left blank, presumably stated in the recording.

It was a jackpot and somewhere in the back of Kyles mind he knew he should ignore it. He knew this was shattering every rule in the book and that he'd be shattering his friendship with Kenny, Mysterion and Human Kite would probably stop being a dynamic duo at that.

But, he needed to know.

He absolutely fucking needed to know.

He wouldn't dare speak it too anyone ever, and he'd return it to the hood right afterwards. He wouldn't even tell Kenny that he listened to it, he'd just sleep at night knowing exactly what Kennys secret is. And that would be more than good enough for Kyle, he wouldn't need anything else.

He reaches blindly for his cassette player, the one he's held onto since he was young. One of his earliest earthly possessions, one he still cherished and used every day. He popped out the cassette already inside and gently placed the pilfered audio into it. He eagerly grabs his earbuds before pressing play.

Professor Chaos is pretty fucking sure doing this shit is helping out my mental state or whatever He doesn't know what he's dealing with He doesn't know that he's playing with fire trying to get me to spill my guts on his fancy therapy chair But, here I am, sitting on top of the police station fully decked out in my Mysterion persona just chatting it up with myself again

I already know exactly what the problem here is Chaos, the center of this massive shitfuck that even paid therapy couldn't fix!

I've probably said that a million times in every one of these stupid fucking recordings... shit I forgot to do that log date ha!

Ahem, log three, topic. Whatever comes out of my fucking mouth.

Kyle presses pause hesitantly.

Oh god.

This is an audio diary, just for spilling Kennys guts.

And he's listening to it.

He should stop. He really, truly, should.

But he doesn't.

Instead he presses play.

Where were we? Right, right, just saying whatever shit that comes to my mind . . . I'm pretty sure that Kyle thinks I can't see him stare at me whenever I fucking bend over or walk away I'm not complaining, I'm flattered really But jeez man just say it outright if you think I have a hot ass

The pause button is slammed this time.

Kyles face is burning up because Kenny knew apparently, he knew that Kyle stared at him at every chance he gets. He feels his stomach twist a bit because oh man, he got caught staring and Kenny didn't even mention. The usage of 'you' makes Kyle feel even more called out on the matter.

He could drop out now, maybe that's the secret, that Kenny knows he stares. He could sleep at night saying that's the thing he's keeping hidden.

I can't talk much if you put everything into consideration But still! Human Kite himself staring at my ass . . . That's fucking awesome if I'm being honest I would hope I'm being honest cause who else is gonna listen to the truth aside from this stupid tape

Like, I'm just doing whatever and I can feel it He is staring holes into me, somedays it's like he's hitting me with those fucking laser eyes! That'd be hilarious actually One second I'm loading a dishwasher and the next my ass is on fire because he couldn't help but stare The Coon would be laughing about that till he's dead

So would Toolshed

And Call Girl

And Mosquito

We'd all get a good laugh out of it

Except for Human Kite

I think he would die of embarrassment if he lit my ass on fire It'd be adorable Bright blue face, ears drooping the slightest bit, maybe his tail would do something I don't know He'd probably say sorry a lot All I know is that after I'm done putting out the fire I'd say "it's fine!" And then I'd think about how cute he looks for weeks on end

Fuck he's absolutely amazing in every sense of the word God, I'm supposed to use these to rant about my shitty family Not gush about my partner in heroics . Oh well

He's perfect! I swear on my mothers grave he is everything That grin he gets whenever he's about to blow someone sky high I can see almost all of his fangs when he does it, which are fucking scary by the way But I'll be damned if it isn't a little bit hot to think about He could kill me and I'll love him He could do absolutely anything to me and I'd still want him so fucking much

And!

And, and, and There's this little thing he does whenever he gets happy Where the weird bits on his tail like, shake? They move, his tail also wags But the frills don't move unless he's actually happy He can fake the wag but he can't fake the frills moving

It's so fucking cute and weird and different I love it

Anyways! This is South Parks number one worst superhero coming to you live from the top of the police station!

. . .

Shit I think someone heard me

Kyle is paralyzed as the tape ends, letting every single word soak into his brain. His tail is doing the thing, it's wagging. Every nerve in his body is alight and he feels his stomach twisting into knots. His claws are digging into the plastic of the tape player as he just stares. His eyes end up resting on his desk, his laptop, with all of his external attachments.

There's a rush to his movements as he grabs it and the oddest, most useless, thing he owns. A reverse recorder of sorts, a simple thing he crafted but never thought he'd have a chance to use. He flips open the top and jams the plug into it's socket before sliding the cassette as gently as possible into the gadget. He should not be doing this, he really shouldn't be doing this.

But he can't keep the cassette to keep hold of the audio, he needs too extract it if he ever wants to hear it again. Which is wrong, and bad, and he absolutely needs to stop but he isn't. He's clicking 'extract' and watching that loading bar fill up gratingly slow.

He places down his laptop gently and balls up the fabrics before leaving. There's a twist of wrong in his gut, but he ignores it as he swings open the washing machine door. He knows how fucking wretched this is, that he'll be absolutely ruined if anyone finds out. He won't be able to live down the shame of having anyone catch word that he knows the secret. That he knows what it is that's keeping Kenny wound up so tightly.

He'll just keep his mouth shut.

Real easy.

Real simple.

-/-/-/-

Kyle might be abusing the knowledge he garnered from the tape, maybe a little bit. He might be curling up next Kenny a little bit more than often, hunched under a flowing purple cape like a cougar despite the height difference. Just maybe he's resting his head atop Kenny's a little bit more than usual, purring a little bit louder whenever he comes into contact with Kenny.

He really doesn't care though, maybe there's a twisted sense of catharsis he gets from the knowledge that yes, it's reciprocated, despite doing nothing to change it. Being awkward homies acting like there's nothing going on below the surface is entirely acceptable and everything that he's wanted from Kenny the second his family landed. Definitely. Absolutely. He didn't imprint. He absolutely did not imprint. He killed off that instinct way back in fourth grade.

Right after he met Kenny.

One second too late. And he is one hundred percent sure everyone in his family can see it, even Ike! Except, the little shit will hold it over him if he gets a chance. Taunting and teasing that Kyle imprinted on his best friend instead of literally anyone else. Of course, the asshole knows better what with every member of his family sporting claws made to rend flesh.

"Kyle!"

The Broflovski perks up a bit at his name being called. Stan sits down across from him, sliding his safety glasses off as he does so.

"You good man?" Stan asked, Kyle nodded.

"I'm great, amazing even," Kyle said, he gestured vaguely as he spoke.

Stan stayed silent for a moment.

Kyle heaved a heavy sigh, "I think I fucked up the first day I landed."

"That was years ago, and just now it's affecting you?" Stan asked. He kicked up his feet to rest on the table.

"Yeah, and Kenny's sort of being an ass. He can trust us, he can trust us more than anyone else in this fucking town!" There's an exasperated exhale as he comes down from the near shout, "How come he's not telling us?"

Stan shrugged, "That's his business, if he doesn't want to tell us, just respect that."

"But-"

"Respect it," Stan pressed, "He might fess up to you first if you just give him time."

"I doubt it," Kyle muttered, barely loud enough for Stan to hear. His tail is snaking around his waist tightly. Tight enough he can feel it sting just a bit.

"Dude. Firstly, calm down," Stan said, Kyle glared at him. The ravenette simply gestured to the prehensile appendage squeezing the air from Kyle's lungs. He drops it, "Secondly, you're his best friend. If he's telling anyone it'll be you."

Kyle gave a hesitant nod, "Yeah, that makes sense."

Stan gave him a grin, comforting, grounding. He dropped down his feet and leaned over the table, holding out a hand. Kyle placed his atop Stan's, his hand was larger. Cyan tinted fingertips tapping along an open palm, "It's fine man, he'll tell us soon enough. It's not like he can keep a secret forever."

"No, you're right man. He can't keep a secret from us forever," Kyle said, a small grin on his face as Stan tightened his grip.

"Now stop stressing so much," Stan said, "Go get some calamari or whatever."

-/-/-/-

Kyle finds the next tape in a vent on top of Unplanned Parenthood while he's on a mission. He's quick to slide it into his pocket before Mysterion can notice. He can't just, jeopardize this discovery, he isn't even sure if he can call it a discovery if he's sure of what it is.

A shoulder collides with him and he stumbles just a bit. His arms are quick to push Mysterion right back up again. There's a crack down his lips and he looks to Kyle, "Get your head in the game, Kite!"

A blast of something or other comes straight at them and there's a brief second of hesitation before Mysterion is tossed out of the way and Kyle is ducking. The blonde is easily caught again and placed down, "Gladly," He takes Mysterion's hand, "Show me how?"

There's a smirk, bone chilling to many but it only makes Kyle's stomach flutter. Mysterion tightens his grip briefly, "Let's go then."

He's quick to launch Kyle forward with a running start, the alien tackling down whichever thug is on them now. Claws detract and tear through silver hued gloves as he snarls, easily dwarfing the goon. They're shaking as Kyle bares his fangs, tail thrashing about and body hunched in a predatory stance. Is he snarling? He is, he's proud of it too as he brings himself to be face to face.

He rears back on his knees, clawed hand raised and ready to slash. He goes to tear open their throat, but a grasp at the back of his collar prevents him. It short circuits him a little bit as the fabric of gloves press against cool skin.

"My friend here isn't exactly human," Mysterion said calmly as he released Kyle's costume. He stayed still and glanced up to Mysterion.

There's a shaky nod from the thug.

"Now, you have two options," Mysterion said. His tongue briefly slid between lips to capture the blood seeping from the crack. He circled around the dropped person a bit more, "Number one, you leave. You run to Canada, and never bother us again."

No response.

"Number two, Human Kite kills you. Right here," Mysterion snaps his fingers and as practiced Kyle gnashes his fangs with a growl, "Right now."

"I'll run! I'll leave!" The convict practically screamed.

"Fine, Kite?" Mysterion said. Claws come down atop the goons eye, deep enough to scar and maybe to go blind in one eye. Kyle stands up, red contrasting the cyan of his fingertips, he watches them run and revels in it.

Once they're far off, darting down staircases and running through the streets, does Mysterion take a seat. He drops down on the roof and Kyle takes a seat beside him, frilled tail wrapping around Mysterion's waist. A hand comes to push back the hood and he leans his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude, being a hero is so sucky," Kenny said with a light laugh, "I just wanna get killed sometimes."

Kyle gives a hum.

"I just come back anyways, but we seriously haven't faced anyone actually dangerous in years," Kenny said, gesturing vaguely as he spoke to drive in the point.

"Definitely," Kyle said, Kenny dropped down onto his back. Kyle leans back to meet him in eye contact.

"I miss when this shit was fun," Kenny said, a sigh on his voice as he spoke.

"I think that most of us do," Kyle answered with. His tongue, forked, flickered out for a brief second.

"You're just like a snake man," Kenny said.

Cyan rose to Kyle's face, "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Like, your tongue. It looks like a snakes, forked," Kenny said, he did the spock thing with his hands as if to display forked. He stuck out his tongue at the same time, "It's really fucking cool. You got some scales right? And those weird little ridges on your back? All of those are snake-y things, Kyle."

"Yeah, cause I'm a freakish little dude," Kyle said extravagantly, as if to make his point he gave a set jazz hands, gloves off to expose to smallest bit of cyan webbing. He sticks out his tongue between too sharp teeth, "Absolutely monstrous."

"I'd hardly say 'little' is the word for you, ya six foot monster," Kenny taunted back, "And I love ya for that man."

Kyle barely beats down the intensifying flush on his face, "Well, won't stop me from being at least a little bit snake like. It's more fun to be a weird creature than a human anyways," He drops down and nudges Kenny's shoulder with his head until he sits up and nudges off the silvery cape. A hand rests in a tangle of red curls for a brief moment before the alien curls around Kenny's back.

"You're also very... Cat. Very feline. Very not human," Kenny said, words teasing but loving nonetheless.

He rested his hand on top of Kyle's head, gently sifting through a sea of red. He leaned back on his friends torso a little bit as he brought a second hand to run through Kyle's hair. He shifted around a bit to rest almost on his knees, facing Kyle just a bit more. His side pressed to Kyle's lower rib cage, his hands didn't leave the redheads hair for a second. He slid down his friends face just a bit, callused thumbs briefly brushing over the ever sensitive auricle fins he had. Were they fins? Not quite, just cyan flares at the base of pointed ears.

He let his fingers scritch just past the back of Kyle's ears, resting atop the buzzed patch of hair. Olive green eyes fluttered shut as Kenny just rubbed right there, the sweet spot. He slumps into Kenny's hands, chin resting at the heel of his palm (he can't see the gentle smile on Kenny's face).

The blonde nearly explodes when Kyle starts to purr. It starts soft, but it slowly grows, shaking Kenny down to his core with his side pressed against Kyle's diaphragm. Or his lungs. Or his whatever it is that makes that wonderful rumbling sound giving Kenny enough serotonin to live forever. He already will, but this is making that eternity sound a lot more bearable. Then he hears a thudding- three, soft thumps before it resets and happens again. His tail is wagging, Kyle really likes being scratched behind the ears apparently.

Kenny's pretty sure he's falling asleep with the pads of his finger, despite being rough and scratchy, gently rubbing behind his ears. He lifts his fingers for a second too long and Kyle opens up his eyes, "Why'd you stop?" He sounds groggy and disappointed, he stops purring.

Kenny picks up the motions, "You were falling asleep," He tosses his cape over Kyle's form.

Kyle lazily blinks, one eye, then the other. He shrugs the best he can, "And?"

"Good point," Kenny said on a hum as he twirls a finger through curls, a light tug.

Kyle's tail starts to thud again and he's sure the afterglow of this will never fade.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's feeling a little bit guilty about tuning into this tape.

Not nearly enough to make him stop though.

He drops down on his bed comfortably, he doesn't even bother to put in his earbuds. His parents are out for the weekend, his brother is at Kenny's to hang out with Karen, presumably fishing. He knows that he's bound to get a call from Ike sometime in the night for a ride, for Ike, Karen, and maybe even Kenny if it's really rough. But, he'll have enough time to listen to the entirety of it.

He presses play.

I think shits getting worse I'm not using these things properly I should be using these for literally anything else! I could talk about how much I worry about my sister, or my money problems, or whatever!

But I'm still using these tapes for just a few little things

Mostly talking about Kite Not gonna use his actual name this time cause someone heard me last week I'm pretty sure I ran them out of town For good

Do I feel bad about that?

Absolutely not

Gotta protect a mans privacy, even if that means blood and intimidation Which uh, I swear it didn't involve blood This time at least

Now, log number... nine? I'm pretty sure this is number nine I would go back and check 'em all out again, but I lost one of them No clue where the little fucker went But it's gone

Kyle pauses the tape. There's missing ones- he needs to find it before Kenny does. He can just put it back later, like he'll do with this one after he's done thoroughly listening to it. He put back the last one, slid it back into the hidden pocket and acted like it never happened.

Of course, since then he's always checked the hidden pocket whenever he got a chance to do so. But, he's been unlucky in terms of finding any up until this one which leaves him with the idea that the rest have been planted around town. He shuts off his rampant train of thought- he is not going to try and sleuth out all of the tapes. He still has some respect for Kenny's privacy, he still has some intention to keep their friendship intact, and most importantly, he still has full intention of never acting on any of what he hears in said tapes.

That would give away that he's been listening to them, a risk he can't take. He clicks the button again.

Look, I always knew Kite was a weird one Everyone does The guys alien, so we cut him some slack on human things that go mostly unspoken

Conversational subtext, call frequency, having beer on ice- simple shit

And in turn, we also try to learn a bit about his species culture I don't even know if species is the right word Does that make me racist? Are aliens even a race to be racist against? Could I even discriminate if only... Three, exist on earth?

So many questions, so little time

Of course, there isn't exactly a lot about his kind I doubt there's a lot of his kind His mom keeps making quips about how all of them would come to earth if it was easier to integrate But honestly? If you just got rid of the alien extremities I would not be able to tell that Kite isn't human

Same with his parents The lot of them blend in perfectly Don't know why she stresses so much And even if they didn't, they have a human to vouch for them A bunch of humans actually

There's a brief pause where Kyle let's himself think about that for a moment. He's never had a chance to think about it before. He doesn't really dwell on it for longer than a minute, flipping himself onto his stomach. His tail lazily sways back and forth as he listens/

I think I got off point there

Allow me to relocate and get back to what I was supposed to be talking about

. . .

There is a fucking line, Kite! You stay on your side of the line! You can't just walk over to my side! Just waltz on over like you own the fucking place! And just, act like it's no big deal! You just sit down right next to me. Like. Right next to me, are thighs are fucking pressed against each other and you lean into me! You just, push your head up against my shoulder like a fucking cat until I give you attention

Which I always do I'm weak

And then you start purring, and your tail does a dumb little wag! And I'm sitting there, begging and pleading, that I don't do something dumb You're putty in my fucking hands Asking me to just shower you in attention! I do, I always do- I always sit there and give you attention

Whatever it is you want I'd give it to you I'd do it for you Anything, for you

The voice softens just a bit, lowering itself. He sounded so very, very mad. Not even mad, just agitated. His voice is heady, wrapped into the narrative he's spinning so accurately. Kyle feels his stomach flip at the words droning so deeply into his skull. The notions made his skin tingle, heart pulsating so very fast he wouldn't be shocked if it exploded all at once.

But no! I stay on my side of the line Like a good boy

Because I don't wanna freak him out Or scare him off

I feel like such a fucking perv And I am a bit pervy I am fully aware of the fact that I am known to stare if someone fine is walking by

But.

To stare at Kite? To want Kite?

It definitely caught me off guard

And he isn't human He doesn't get it I touch him I feel like I'm dirtying him Even if it's just a high five! I have too much on mind for this shit

I see that idiot and you know what I wanna to do?

Do you even wanna to know what I want do to him?

Kyle slams the pause button, he can feel his nerves shoot up in shock. His tail has went from lazily thumping back and forth to wagging like that of a dogs. The minute ridges on his back are shaking, just a bit. He may be mildly cold-blooded, but right now he really can't tell.

He looks down at his hands and they're entirely cyan, normally just a little bit at the tips. The hue shoots up his forearms. He can practically hear his heartbeat pounding in his chest, the sound bangs back and forth in his skull.

Oh.

Oh he's opened up a massive can of worms with this tape.

He keeps listening

I'd just

I would-

Fuck man I can't even say it out loud I don't know what I was thinking!

I'm sitting on top of city hall and I was about to go off about how I'd fuck him!

Could I even fuck him? Are the species compatible? Do aliens even have reproductive organs?

They must They totally do How else do they, how do they reproduce? Eggs?

. . . Nasty

But I would fucking worship him I would do whatever he asked me too Even if he's too unversed in human reproduction to ask me too fuck him up I'd still do what he asks me too

You wanna go out at that new pizza place that charges by the minute? Let's go darling

You wanna go check out the newest arcade cabinet? Baby, the cars already running

You want me to get your logo as a tramp stamp? I might not do that one actually . That's a lie I'd do anything for him

. . .

God, I'm such a mess I need real therapy

Kyle has long since buried his face in a pillow to muffle his screams (although they're closer to high pitched squeals) and cover his ears. He feels like he's running a fever, a really, really bad fever. Every square inch of his body is on fire and he can't care much that he's clawing into his pillow, downy soft feathers spilling from gouges.

He's drawing a blank.

A complete and utter blank.

He hears the click signalling it's over and he feels his stomach twist in regret.

It's a lot easier to hide that you know something if said something isn't... that, whole thing that just happened. His ears are ringing a little bit as the words ping around the sides of his head, like a game of Pong. The pillow is still keeping his face covered as he rolls onto his back, then his side, then his front, and his side again, knees pressed flush against the wall. Fuck, he feels like he's sixteen all over again, and that was just three years ago! He's too young to be having moments like this.

He mechanizes his breathing, eyes wide open as he stares at the darkness of the space themed pillow case in front of him. Sheer darkness with the occasional blip of a lighter hue. His tail is still thrashing, whipping back and forth madly, he's sure it would scuff the wall if it hit it.

He has to come down from his safe space eventually. Even if that safe space is merely a pillow pressed to his face.

He tosses aside the pillow and rolls onto his back and just stares at the ceiling.

His entire existence has officially been flipped on it's head.

He hears his cell phone ring and he reaches for it, answering before even checking whose calling. He gives a cracked, "Hello?"

"Dude are you good? You sound like you've just been crying," Came Kenny's voice, concern laid on thick.

Kyle nearly hangs upon the spot but instead he bites his tongue and doesn't say a word.

"Look man, dads being a bit of an ass, and Ike was wondering if you could come pick him up for the umpteenth time," Kenny said. He gave a hum, "Could Karen tag along?"

"Totally man," Kyle answered with as he sat up, trying so hard to still his tail. It swiped back and forth atop the blankets, he felt a little bit wrong about not telling Kenny what he knew right now. But, this is a bad time to do that, any Kyle can lie his way out of it again. He hesitates before adding, "You need an escape too?"

"It'd be nice, but you already sound tired. Did I catch you at a bad time? Were you perhaps 'jacking it', my fine, alien friend?" Kenny asked tauntingly, his smugness was palatable.

Kyle wished he could just say 'yeah' and move on instead of carefully think over his next words. Life would much simpler if his head didn't catch on the usage of 'fine' in referral to himself. His mouth felt dry but he choked out some words anyways. "Dude, what makes you think I even have a dick? I got that weird ass alien biology, don't I?""

There's a laugh on the other side, "Hey man, not all of my shots are gonna be spot on. But really, if you don't want me over I won't come," There's an tenderness to his voice and the contrast to the almost gritty and desperate tone he had on the tape gives Kyle whiplash.

"You can if you want too, but I'll probably pass out pretty fast," Kyle lied. He'd just lay in bed, wide awake, for potentially hours with Kenny on the floor beside him. That's how it usually went at least.

"Going full on feral like you did earlier takes a lot out of you, doesn't it?" Kenny asked.

Silence.

"Silent treatment, did I strike a nerve bud? Regardless, we'll be out front in ten," Kenny said, "I can make you some hot coco if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Was Kyle's weak response.

-/-/-/-

The night was a lot more tense than either of them wanted it to be.

They usually shared a hug before actually getting into bed and trying to pass out. And if not that then Kyle would subtly demand some time to just, co-exist, in very close proximity to each other. In even more minimal situations, they would just share some words of 'love you bro' and call it a night.

None of that transpired.

"I can just go home man," Kenny offered at the break of two AM.

Kyle rolled over to the edge of his bed, leaning over it just a bit, "It's fine."

"Is something wrong? Cause like, you've just been acting... off, lately," Kenny said gently as he propped himself on his elbows, both resting on his pillow.

"Nothings wrong," Kyle said, he crossed his arms and rested his chin on them, "I am gonna ask my parents some questions when they get back."

"About what?" Kenny asked quietly, as though he were afraid of shattering the night if he spoke too loud. The navy walls cast deep blue across the room, reflecting the moonlight in a comfortable darkness.

Kyle stayed silent.

"Alien stuff?" Kenny asked.

Kyle nodded, "Yeah, alien stuff."

"Fun," Kenny answered with a scoff. He dropped back down again and turned to face Kyle, Kyle's bed frame at least, "But for real, you're just- somethings going on in your head. I can tell."

Kyle shrugged, "It's stupid."

"I won't judge man, you're my best friend," Kenny said. And he said it in such a way that for a brief second Kyle forgot about the tapes entirely.

"How are you supposed to talk to someone about something you don't want too?" Kyle asked, trying to withhold and give equal amounts of information.

Kenny paused, "Work out the words in your head. Practice once or twice, maybe even record it. Figure out what needs to be reworked. Write it out if you must- just get it out of your head."

Kyle nodded.

"Trust me man, the second it's out of your head and off your shoulders, life will be easier," Kenny explained reassuringly, "Even if it's only for a second or two."

"Thanks bro," Kyle said quietly.

"Least I can do," Kenny said.

There's a beat of hesitance, "Love you man."

"Love you too," And then Kenny turns away from him, tugging the blanket up to his shoulders.

-/-/-/-

Kyle's pretty sure that Kenny is onto him at this rate, but, he tries to ignore the terrible slithering sensation that he's been caught.

He just focuses on whatever comes next.

This time it's none other than The Coon himself deciding he needs to bring something up with Kyle. Silence drenches the room in the worst way possible as he sits across from the hybrid. Furred ears are swiveled to face Kyle and it makes him feel impossibly nervous, he knows that Cartman can hear his heartbeat. Can it hear pick up speed when Stan sits down beside him, even more so when Wendy joins.

And then Clyde, Timothy, Jimmy- all on one side of Cartman.

Tweek and Craig sit down on the side with Wendy and Stan, Scott as well.

"We know you figured it out, Kyle," Cartman said calmly, tone frigid in a way that makes Kyle feel paralyzed. The hybrid clasps his hands together in front of himself on the table.

"Figured what out?" Kyle snaps back with, trying his hardest to muster the usual snarkiness he has around Cartman. Bute he fails, miserably at that. He just sounds pathetic, grasping at straws if nothing else.

"Don't play dumb," Wendy said, she sounded sharp. She may be tough as nails, and normally Kyle respects that, admires it even, but when it's directed towards him? He gets why people run from Call Girl.

"Why in the cosmos should I tell the likes of you?" Kyle answered with, feebly trying to defend Kenny's privacy.

A privacy that he had already thoroughly breached and ravaged, alongside the unspoken trust they had. He had wrecked it, ruined it, destroyed it- but he could salvage it from the fact Kenny didn't know that Kyle knew.

"You can trust us, Kyle. We're your best friends," Clyde said. And he was right, he was so right.

Kyle's tail snaked itself around the chair leg, "Really guys, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"His secret, Kyle," Cartman said, "Tell us."

"I," He hesitated, "I can't."

"You've already fucked up your relationship with him enough, Kyle. I got Wendy to do a deep dive on your species, and of the few things she could find, she discovered this," Cartman said. He raised a folder, an awful beige and orange hue, and slid it over to Kyle.

The alien hesitantly took it. It was three pages thick, presumably doubled sided. He opened it and skimmed through the headings, he knew every single trait in and out. He paused at the highlighted one, "You're joking."

"This is serious man," Stan said, "We wouldn't just accuse you of imprinting of Kenny without any basis."

"That's stupid. He's my best friend. That's all, that's our dynamic- the kind of dynamic that rakes in loads of cash," Kyle defended with, hoping that pressing on Cartman's one pressure point would make him let up. He slammed the folder shut and slid it back, "Even if I did imprint on him, it would ruin the franchise and never be reciprocated."

"Then tell us what the secret is, you have nothing to lose, no? Just a friend, they come and go on earth," Cartman said. He was calling Kyle's bluff, did he even realize it? He probably did, or if he didn't, he'd snoop until he did.

"Ask Professor Chaos instead, he knows more," Kyle said, trying so, so hard to deflect. The tension pooling everywhere under his skin was agonizing. He needed an out so bad, he needed an escape so, so fucking bad.

Cartman scoffs, "Already done, he said he was sworn to some oath of secrecy, sent us to you."

Kyle stays silent, forcing eye contact with the sleaze in front of the him. The trash eater himself, scraping tactics from the bottom of the barrel.

"Just tell us, no harm will come from it," Cartman said sternly.

"It'll destroy my friendship with Kenny," Kyle snarled out.

"No new harm will come from it, we all know the damage has been done my friend, it's just yet to be discovered," Cartman said, words cutting into Kyle like a knife.

He bites his tongue, Cartman's right, "Give me a week to collect more information on the subject, then I'll report back with the news."

There's a smug and satisfied grin on Cartman's face as he leans back, "See? That wasn't so hard, was now?"

Kyle stands up and pushes away from the table, "I'm going."

"Don't forget about your patrol with Mysterion tomorrow evening, Kite!" Cartman calls out, head leaned back on his chairs backrest.

Kyle's tail is swaying angrily, "Fuck off."

His fangs are grinding against each other as he storms off, if it weren't for the fact he was in suit he would punt the closest chihuahua like a football. Or do something else just as dumb. Maybe kick a fire hydrant and hope it doesn't dent, or punch a tree. Something to make the tense feeling uncoil, to let himself just relax for one second.

He doesn't deserve that though.

He's been uprooting the very foundations of his friendship with Kenny, all because of some morbid curiosity. And Kenny doesn't even fucking know. Kyle is just getting away with it cause he's being awfully slick with how careful he is to put everything back exactly where he found it.

The worst part is how long it's taken for him to feel genuine guilt about it if nothing else. He's such a fucking snake, biting onto his relationship with Kenny and refusing to let go. Sinking fangs deeper and deeper, searching for more even though it's cannibalizing itself. And the first taste is all that it takes to get someone hooked, shame that the thing he got a taste of was metaphorical guts. Kenny just hasn't realized he's stuck in this ouroboros of a relationship.

Despite that, a really twisted and messed up part of him persists in wondering when he'll find the next tape.

-/-/-/-

He finds the next tape almost a week after the interrogation.

Although, we're using the term 'find' rather loosely here. Instead it sort of, fell directly into his lap. And despite knowing better and not wanting to go any further, he still held onto it and didn't let go.

"Thanks for washing my gear man," Kenny said as he stood at the door, Kyle held the bundle of purple fabrics in hand.

He gave a smile, as convincing as he could manage, "No problem man, least I can do."

"See ya tomorrow bro," Kenny said before pivoting on a heel to leave which struck Kyle as odd. The blonde usually loitered for a little bit, chatted casually about whatevers on his head. But none of that came today.

Still, Kyle closed the door and walked down to the luandry room before shaking out the purple. There was that clatter, plastic against unfinished flooring, it was just concrete at the moment. He tossed in the clothing and flipped on the spin cycle with a bit of lavender scented soap. He slid down the front of the washing machine and stared at the tape.

He shouldn't.

He really shouldn't.

He does.

He grips the tape and slams it into the player and hits the play button before he can further question his actions.

I know you're hearing this, Kyle I don't know how long you've been listening to my diary for But it's you It has to be you

Kyle swears his heart stops dead in its tracks. He barely registers that the grit Kenny forces when he's acting out Mysterion has disappeared. That this is just Kenny now.

Who else would be messing with my tapes They're never just right when you put them back You leave scuff marks on the plastic I can fingerprint things, Kyle

I planted this one And log number twelve The rest though? I don't know how many of those you've heard

I'll admit I never meant for number three to fall into your hands I just thought you'd be kind enough to not listen in

. . . How wrong I was

And it's a real shame too You better not have told the rest of the team, Kyle I will make you regret every single breath you've taken if you have

But, that's only if I can get that intel from the gang Do be warned that Cartman is very easy to persuade It won't take me much longer than ten minutes to make him crack

The rest will go even faster Although, I'd give Wendy much longer Craig? He'll be shattering in seven minutes, tops Tweek? Three, maybe four Stan? He trusts me more than you'd expect, he won't even fight

I hope I was right about you being smart, Kyle

Kyle's blood turns to ice.

He is so fucked.

At least he didn't tell Cartman.

You already know my big secret And you have two options, Kyle

Option one: Meet me at Starks Pond tonight to confirm how you feel about the contents of these logs. I'm probably sitting there right now

Option two: Don't. This horrible relationship limbo can remain just like this, on my end I've been stuck here for years

Look, Kyle, what you've done here You're forcing my hand I don't have any other options

Do what you want

I clearly can't stop you

The tape is flung from the cassette player to the other side of the room, it hits the wall and cracks. A thousand regrets pool in the pit of Kyle's stomach and he wants to vomit. He also wants to curl up in a ball and die. Or live in Cartman's basement instead, those are all good options.

But in the same breath...

He's being given a choice when he was sure this whole thing he had with Kenny would simply implode, collapse in on itself and die. He has one chance to make this better than it is. He'll never be able to make this right, but, he can at least try and reinforce the breaking pieces before it's entirely broken.

He picks himself up off the ground and starts on his way up the stairs. He freezes at the door, is he gonna do this? Is he gonna go out to Starks Pond and talk like he should've far too long ago?

Yeah, yeah he fucking is.

The real question is if he's actually gonna say whats been fueling his co-dependency with Kenny for so long.

He isn't sure if he'll manage to fess up to the stupidest biological function he has. He'll try, he'll make an attempt to explain exactly what's been conspiring inside of his head without him even realizing for so many years. He'll at the very least get out a couple words to explain the dumbest thing he's been roped into by his own genetics and unfortunate timing.

-/-/-/-

The ever-present snow and ice crunches under Kyle's boots, but that's the last thing he's focusing on. His eyes are trained ahead of hi as he walks along the edge of Starks Pond. His tail is still, a very rare occurrence.

When he reaches the edge of the pond that Kenny's standing at he's lost his words. The blonde is just staring at him, looking for tells. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his orange jacket, bright orange, pumpkin orange. Kyle can't focus on anything.

"It worked, you nosy little shit," Kenny said, words weaponized with ease.

"Yeah, it worked," Kyle said. He took a step closer, "I'm sorry," and then another, "For everything really," A third step and Kenny tenses, flinching back just a bit. In turn Kyle steps back.

"For what? Did you tell them?" Kenny asked defensively. He sounded scared more than anything else.

"I know better than that Kenny, they did interrogate me though," Kyle explained stiffly.

Kenny gives a hum, "That gets that problem out of the way."

Kyle nods, "Yeah, that it does."

"So, you listened to three, nine, twelve, and seven, right?" Kenny asked.

"Sorry," Kyle said.

"At least have the decency to dignify me with an answer man, you just fucking ruined me. I had to record that final tape five times before it was good enough to use. I swear to god, normally I'd cut you some slack and now you know why, but not this time," Kenny spat sharply, "So, you listened to those tapes, right?"

"Yep, the four that you listed," Kyle said, his attempt to stay professional just made him sound stiff and disjointed.

This time Kenny faltered before speaking, "And your opinions on them?"

"Positive," Kyle answered with faster than a bullet. His tail flicked as he spoke.

"Anything else?" Kenny asked, desperation heavy on his voice. Thick like molasses.

"I think I imprinted on you- which means something different then it does for the ducks!" Kyle was quick to backtrack on his words, Kenny just looked intrigued, "My species has a 'thats the one' instinct. If we find the right person, it activates, and according to my parents at least, it's usually subliminal. When we landed, I imprinted on you- so, to me, you're the one. And for all I know, unless you die and stay dead, that stupid ass hormonal flux won't go down."

Kenny stayed silent.

"I'm stuck fixating on you until one of us dies, my kind mates for life, and unless I submit myself to experimental science the animal part of my brain is gonna keep screaming that you're mine. Which is kind of annoying, and dumb, and gets in the way- and I didn't even realize it until I found that first tape. I've just been infatuated with you since grade four and I don't know how to make it stop," Kyle spilled, some words meshing together in a blend of syllables. Cyan progressively rose to his face the entire time he spoke. He dropped down to the ground, facing away from Kenny and towards the water, "I'm so fucking sorry Kenny."

Kenny took a few tentative steps closer to where Kyle sat, his tail lay curled around him yet limp on the ground. His ears were drooping a bit and he looked ashamed of himself, a little bit distraught at that. "I'm not gonna disown you, Kyle. That'd just be fucking stupid."

"I didn't mean to ruin your life man, you could've been scoring. God, I probably scared off so many people without even realizing it," Kyle choked out weakly. He pressed his nails into the heel of his palm, "I swear I didn't mean to imprint on you. I swear man- I can try and suppress it."

"It's fine, Kyle," Kenny said as he crouched down beside Kyle. He bumped their shoulders together.

No response.

Okay, that was worrying. It struck a particular chord in the depths of Kenny's chest. One very, very similar to the 'my sister is hurt' chord, which unlocks a specific subset of reactions. Those reactions include:

A: Unbridled violence on whoever caused this B: Giving tried and true advice C: Terrible jokes and playful punches D: Just listening with or without a glass of warm milk

None of those options seem optimal, so Kenny improvises.

"I mean, the whole 'imprint' thing doesn't bother me," Kenny said as he sat down behind Kyle. His knees were bent and he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder.

"Dude I fucking ruined your life," Kyle got out quietly, his tail snapped to punctuate his sentence. It wrapped itself around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Beg to differ," Kenny said as he slowly raised his hands up. He gently placed them at the base of Kyle's skull, he tensed but didn't move. Kenny slowly rubbed circles in just behind Kyle's ears in the hopes it would calm him down.

Kyle leaned back into Kenny a bit, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"Half of those tapes were me going off about how much I adore you and want you, Kyle. I know you have a brain in there, put it to some use," Kenny said, a small grin on his face as he spoke. He could feel Kyle start to purr, "Just think about it."

Kyle paused for a moment, to just let all of the data sink in. He felt like a total idiot when the conclusion formed in his head, "Oh."

"Yeah," Kenny answered with, "Good thing."

"I'm such a fucking idiot," Kyle said with a laugh on his voice. He squeezed a bit tighter around Kenny's leg, constricting, like a snake, "Can't wait to confirm my families suspicions."

"Do they think we're a thing?" Kenny asked as he combed his fingers through Kyle's hair.

Kyle nodded, "Probably, apparently I've been signalling some very, very vulgar and subtle things to you with my tail for the past six years. I didn't even notice my tail was moving half the time, but it was- mom and dad had to explain that to me which was fun."

"Did you stop?" Kenny asked.

"Naw, definitely not," Kyle answered with smugly, "You never knew anyways."

Kenny gives a hum, "I would say I was giving some vulgar signs myself, but humans don't have a good way to do that discretely."

"I've noticed," Kyle said, "I can read half of you like books with all the tells each of you have."

"Guess Ill have to be even more mysterious so the guys don't catch on," Kenny said as Kyle started to purr, the vibrations rapidly picking up in volume. It felt nice.

"They aren't idiots dude," Kyle said, "They'll catch on soon enough."

"Or we could just walk in there holding hands one day, wait for someone to point it out and go 'yeah we're dating now' and just act like nothing has changed," Kenny said, "Even if we don't go to the movies or eat out at restaurants- that'd be funny."

"We'll see what happens first," Kyle answered with. He holds his breath for a beat, "Love you, Kenny," There's a veritable depth to the words now.

"Love you, Kyle," Kenny answered with the same as he always has, Kyle just never noticed the subtext. He presses a brief kiss to Kyle's forehead.

-/-/-/-

Stan is the first one too notice that Kyle and Kenny are different. A good different though. They're more synced up on the field, better at silent communication, just predicting each other in general. It definitely benefits the team as a whole for the crime-fighting, but whether or not the development is good for the franchise is a whole other story.

He's the first one to ask around about it too.

"Hey Wendy, Kyle and Kenny-"

"Are acting off? I noticed," Wendy said, cutting Stan short with ease. She glanced up from her phone, "I'm already scouring about for details."

"Anything actually come up?" Stan asked.

Wendy shook her head, "Nope, you'd assume that there'd be something; but most searches are coming up dry."

"Worth a shot," Stan said with a sigh.

"You should go ask Craig, he's pretty close to Kenny," Wendy offered up and before she could finish her sentence Stan was looking for Craig.

He was sitting at his desk as usual, cruddy costume and all.

"Craig whats up with Kyle and Kenny?" Stan asked.

And without skipping a beat Craig answered with, "They're homosexuals, Stan."

"What?" Came Stan's dead response, words hollow and in disbelief.

Craig nodded to the aforementioned duo walking in, "Go ask why they're holding hands."

Stan faltered.

"Listen, if you're afraid I'm right you should've asked out Kyle sooner to avoid it," Craig blatantly accused, the words forced the air from Stan's lungs like a sucker punch.

Now aware that Craig is going to keep mentally gut punching him, Stan just heads on off to Kyle and Kenny. They are indeed holding hands, and Kyle's tail is wrapped around Kenny's thigh, just above his knee.

"Look, you two," Stan began with.

"Yeah man, what's up?" Kyle asked, and he's hiding a grin poorly. He's sure that it adds to the confusion Stan is displaying.

Kenny was right.

This is pretty fucking funny.

"How come you guys are holding hands?" Stan asked quietly.

"Kyle imprinted on me," Kenny said bluntly, "We're dating now."

"How long has this been going on for?" Stan asked.

Kyle shrugged, "A month, we were waiting for you guys to notice."

Craig gives a smug, "Told you so!" from his desk.

"Were you guys betting on what was happening?" Kenny asked, an undertone of a snicker to his voice.

"No, even if we did Craig would've won," Stan said spitefully.

Kyle grins a bit, "No need to be sour man, you can still break the news to Cartman, I'm sure it'll be hysterical to see his reaction."

"Dude. Let's go find Cartman," Kenny said eagerly, he was practically vibrating where he stood. Hes grinning that gap tooth grin, "I need to see his reaction right now."

"Wanna tag along?" Kyle asked, holding out a hand to Stan.

He refrained from taking it, "Totally man."

Craig sidles up beside the three of them, "I got a camera to record it."

#south park #south park k2 #sp k2 #south park fanfiction #south park fic #kysterion #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw mild gore #tw swearing #tw betrayal #as you all know i was once again staring at artwork by kennysdeadbody. as i usually do writing K2. specifically those kitenny doodles.#kite is really just a creature. big ol' cat. he purrs.#kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #small headcanon that craigs gaydar is off the motherfucking shits (also wanted to let him say faggot(I didnt))

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fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 23 days

Text

Code Blue Ch. 51- I Am Negan

Summary: Jo runs into more trouble and lucky, maybe unlucky, for her, there's a new baddie in town and paired with Craig, it's double the bloody trouble as their dark side arises.

*Chapter Warnings* !!!DARK and GORY!!! Reader discretion advised!! language, angst, violence, graphic depictions, blood, mentions of guns, sexual language, offensive language, smoking, alcohol use, death

Chapter characters: Josie, Jeffrey aka Negan, Craig, Aaron, Brandon

Chapter word count: 5,392

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The weight of your luggage did not even compare to how heavy your heart was as you stood outside your apartment door, teary eyed and torn over the decision to leave, even if it you planned for it to only be temporary. You finally had something that was all yours and you had to leave it behind all because of your sister's screw ups and you felt guilty for feeling that way about Megan after what happened to her.

Her poor choices always always seemed to fall back on you in some way and this time it was all because she had wanted to hurt you by getting involved with Ethan, but her wicked games and karma caused her to become hurt instead. Still, deep down inside, you knew Ethan was the only one to blame and now, since she survived and could possibly identify her attacker, she and your mom could be in danger because you had a very intuitive feeling that Megan was not supposed to be found alive.

As you made your way out the front door of the suburban Salem complex and approached your car, you caught sight of the gardener Craig had been speaking with when Luke had dropped you off. He was cutting some brush by a small woodland area off to the side of the building and the tall, salt and peppered shirtless man of slender build and tattoos certainly noticed you.

"Whoa....damn!" he rudely and loudly acclaimed as his eyes were indiscreetly undressing you.

"Eww. As if..." you snidely muttered and began putting your bags in the trunk as quick as you could.

Just as you were finishing up, you were startled by the sound of a rumbling vehicle coming to a screeching stop. As you closed the trunk, your eyes bulged when you saw a Pontiac Trans Am quickly backing up. The same beaten up classic car of the 70's that pursued yours in a vengeful highspeed chase through the downtown streets of Salem that contained 4 very pissed off hillbilly bar thugs, only this time there were 2. You knew it was inevitable that your Monte Carlo would be spotted at some point since it stuck out like a sore thumb and that unfortunate time was now. Pulling your Kubaton from your purse, you gripped it at your side and would stick to your plan of lying and pray they were as stupid as they looked.

The pair parked in front of you and turned off the engine, then got out and casually approached you, one walking on each side of your car, leaving you trapped between them at the back.

The one that drove came from your left and traced his forefinger alongside your car in a taunting manner. He was maybe mid thirties, had short dark hair and was quite tall, slender and bearded, much like the gardener that you noticed was now fully clothed and watching like a hungry hawk from the trees.

The other man, boy you should say, came from your right and was much shorter and younger, maybe mid twenties with longer dark hair...and clutched in his hand, swinging at his side was a crowbar.

The taller man spoke as he stopped at your bumper. "Well well well. What do we have here? Is this your Super Sport darlin?"

Standing your ground, you firmly replied. "It's not for sale if that's what you're asking."

The man chuckle and glanced at the other. "I don't believe I asked that question. Did you hear me ask that question Brandon?"

The younger answered in agreement. "Nope. I don't believe I heard you ask that question Aaron."

Now that the faces had names, Aaron took a baby step forward. "Is THIS your car? It's a simple question and a simple yes or no will suffice."

"Yes. Why?"

"Now see? That's not a simple yes, but then again, you are blonde. I don't like blondes and I ask the questions. Ain't that right Brandon?"

"Yep. That's right Aaron. I like blondes though. I prefer plump ones but I'm not opposed to tasting a beanpole." Brandon grinned as he glided his tongue over his teeth.

A sound you couldn't quite describe other than an eerie two-toned whistle, high then low like a doorbell, rode in on the warm afternoon breeze and then a voice spoke with a deep intriguing melody like Lee's, only Lee's was smooth as Crown Royal. This one had a grizzly edge to it.

"Is that so Brandumb? Plump as in joy toy plump? Seems your type. Never stuck my dick in a hot air balloon simply because I've never had the problem of getting laid by a real woman." the gardener jibed as he swaggered in from the sidelines with a cocky tone and grinned like the cat that ate the canary, or was about to, then his intensely rich hazel eyes found you. "You alright here sweetheart?"

Frazzled by the intimidating stranger and his profound dimples, all you could do was gape at him, just like the two other men were doing.

Brandon frowned when the lightbulb turned on. "Wait, did you just call me Bran...dumb? Did he just call me dumb Aaron?"

There was that dimpled grin again as the witty gardener barbed him again. "Well at least you got big alert ears under that perm. Maybe Dumbo would be a better choice?"

Aaron glared at the gardener. "Yes, I think he just called you dumb Brandon and also implied you screw blow up dolls and compared you to an elephant."

"Well damn, there I go again, saying shit exactly as I see it and what I see is a couple of redneck assholes who reiterate their names in every motherfucking sentence to appear all big and smart and spooky like a frill necked lizard, but guess what? I am a goddamn feral cat that eats reptiles like you for breakfast."

You jaw was still dropped, if not more than before, at this highly confident man as he stood at your side with a curled smirk, but Aaron and Brandon were much more astonished as they glanced at each other, seemingly not knowing what to do.

"Ahhh, it seems you boys are DUMBfounded. How fitting. Now, how about one of you speak up as to why you're harassing this young lady and trust me when I say this. It better be a damn good reason. Oh wait a minute. There is no damn good reason for that."

Aaron finally spoke up and fearlessly stepped forward, standing at arm's length before the towering gardener. "I don't believe I got your name boy."

And standing at least 6'2, the amazon gardener also stepped forward, merely inches from Aaron as he leered down at him. "That's because I didn't give it to you pencil dick, but when I do, I'll only need to say it once because you will most certainly never forget it."

Before Aaron could respond, the gardener sniffed the air, stepped back and made a sour expression. "Holyyyyy shitballs of fire, WHAT is that stench?? It could knock a buzzard off a shit wagon. Do you wear deodorant son? I'm about to start swinging a flyswatter and call you Pig-pen. I can only imagine what it smells like inside that piece of shit Pontiac over there on this humid day. Even the wind is trying to run."

For you, it was like sitting in class all over again and desperately trying to not burst out in laughter at a most inappropriate time over a joke your friend made. At this point, you knew 2 things for sure about this middle aged man. One was that he was absolutely fearless, considering he stood there with no weapon, provoking two nefarious men when one was armed with a rather large crow bar and the other had steam coming out of his ears. And two, this gardener was an original wisenheimer with a perverse and twisted sense of humor that you were quite frankly enjoying and you had to wonder if that was just his character or if something traumatic had made him that way. Whatever it was, he was killing you softly with his song.

Brandon snorted and chortled. "He got ya good Aaron."

Aaron's arm shot out like a chameleon's tongue snatching it's prey and smacked the back of Brandon's head with his open palm. "Shut your mouth boy. You'll answer to Daryl later for that one."

The nameless gardener couldn't hold his snarky tongue. "Oh let me guess. Daryl's your other brother? Now that would be hella fuckin funny if one of your names were Daryl too."

Now you giggled because you actually understood the reference, but Brandon didn't.

"I don't git it? What's he mean Aaron?"

Aaron's lips curled inwards. "I've about had enough of you AND your jokes mister, whoever the hell you are. Now let this here bitch answer my question."

The gardener's teeth gritted. "The only bitch I see here is you. You will ask her her name and politely address her by it. Bitch I said what I said. Have I made myself clear or do I have to go all ninja cat and paint this street red?"

He then looked down at you. "What's your name darlin?"

"It's Josie." you softly answered and then muttered as you tried to quietly rectify what he said. "and..um...it's Doja Cat."

"Pardon?"

"The song...paint the town red. It's by Doja Cat."

He was silent and stunned for a moment as his hazel hues delved deep into your eyes, making you almost choke on your own gulp. Had you pissed him off? You couldn't read him well enough yet and you probably should have just kept your mouth shut, but then, a grinch like grin formed on his thin lips.

"Well goddamn and fuck me sideways. I stand corrected and hard! Look at you Josie the pussycat, all puttin me in my place. I am 100 percent more into you now. Just sayin."

The gardener glanced down at the mini mind blowing weapon in your hand and then... paired with enraptured eyes, his voice became somewhat of a growl.

"My kinda woman. What'ya say there tiny Trouble? You wanna join me in shutting this shit down by painting the street red?"

His menacing eyes fixated on the two men, then he took a swig out of his water canteen, which you were standing close enough to get a good whiff of and realize it definitely was not water that he swallowed with incredible ease, but something of a very potent proof ...and then he smiled at them. His first smile full of beautiful teeth. As captivating as it was, it was also frightening.

The almost brawl was interrupted by an irate voice coming out of left field. Craig's....who was now nicely groomed, above and below the neck, minus the tie, as if he were going to some business meeting and tucked inside his belt, very visible on his frontside where his black suit coat hung open, was a gun.

"Everybody needs to back the fuck up. Nobody's painting my street red. Take the blood bath to the abandoned junk pile in the thicket down the block."

The gardener leaned down to you with a smirk and whispered his warm whiskey tainted breath upon your face. "Busted. The principal's here."

Craig gave the gardener a disciplining look. "What the fuck are you doing man? We don't need this attention here. And what in the blimey hell is that smell??? Is that pig shit?"

"Oh that. That's just Karen and Brenda. Some BULLshit that I was just about to shovel up and dispose of."

"Looks to me like you were about to smear that stench all over my property and right here for anyone to witness. You sending out an invite to the rest of the pigs?? Jo...what's going on here?"

"Craig...I..."

Your attempt to explain was immediately thwarted by Aaron stepping up to Craig, who's hand abruptly gripped his gun with caution as he gave due warning.

"Step the fuck back cowboy."

Aaron calmly raised his hands and complied by slowly retreating to a safe distance before he spoke. "This here car, which is too distinct to be mistaken for another, was driven by a man who attacked myself, Brandon here and 2 of my boys at the bar last week and your girl here was just about to get in it."

Both Craig's and the gardener's incredulous eyes simultaneously darted right to you.

"Ok, ok. "you swiftly intervened and rambled out your little white lie with your fingers crossed behind your back. "Look...it's my car yes, but not long ago, it was stolen and I just got it back, so I don't know anything about you being attacked. I've never seen either of you before in my life."

"Well now. Is that so?" Aaron countered with a skeptical tone. "It was dark and rainy that night. You wouldn't have seen us anyways from the headlights dead on your car. But we could see into yours. I counted 3 heads. You could have easily been one of them in this here car. So then, if what you claim is true, you must know who stole it right? Cops must have dusted her for prints."

"I said it wasn't me. Take it or leave it. Cops found it abandoned, keys in it and all and there was no hit on the prints. They must have worn gloves. And for the record, IF I had ever seen you, it would be damn hard to forget a pair of faces that only a mother could love."

The gardener was tickled to his core. "Ohhh that sassy mouth. You're killin me girl. You a bad bitch."

Ugh...all you could see when you heard the term bad bitch, was Gerry's drunken text to Megan that he had accidentally sent you....which you still had in your phone.

"Well there you have it. It was all a simple misunderstanding." Craig firmly attested. "She gave you your answer. You can't blame her for something she didn't do and even if by chance she had, what exactly was it you two hayseeds were going to do to a woman who was out here all by herself? I mean, your brother here is carrying a crowbar the size of my entire arm."

"Who, MIND you, made a very dick minded comment that was signed on the dotted line by his slithering tongue." the gardener readily informed.

Brandon defended the accusation with confidence. "Nahhh, I's just gonna mess the car up, thas all."

Craig's cynical eyes narrowed, causing a small vein on his forehead to become more prominent which you had noticed only happened when he was boiling inside.

"Oh. Is THAS all? No, I don't think that's what you were going to do at all. You see, I know your backwoods kind and I think you weren't even going to care about her answer and I think you were going to drag her into that pigpen on wheels and do something really really bad to her. In fact, I KNOW that was your plan and now, it's not even about a misunderstanding anymore. It's now personal when you mess with someone I care about. You took a wrong fucking turn and now you're in my territory you sorry shits. What do ya'll say we head on down the road and finish this conversation where it's more private."

The gardener, whom you were now beginning to get the distinct feeling that was not his sole profession, but more so in the "business" with Craig, cheerfully taunted the men with their soon to be fate.

"Oh snnnnap. It's really gonna suck to be you girls today. You done gone and pissed the boss man off. Hope you got your shittin pants on."

"Toss the crowbar. Now." Craig ordered.

"Hey, that ain't fair man. You got a gun." Brandon protested and frantically looked at Aaron. "What do I do man?

"What, are you 12? Life ain't fucking fair shit for brains." the gardener declared. "And don't ask Airhead what to do. He sure as shit don't know what to do. But I'll tell you what you're gonna do. Absolutely fucking nothing because that's all you scrotums have done since you rolled in here Joe Dirt style. Word war is over and now it's time to throw hands. Now, the great and powerful Craig has spoken. Give me the crowbar before I knock you somewhere over the fucking rainbow with it."

As the gardener held out his hand, Craig lowered it with his. "No. Let the trembling tin man keep his axe. As I said, I know his kind and he's too damn rusty to use it."

"Fine by me. Now move before I out my size 13 shitkickers up your insubordinate asses." the unknown soldier under Craig's command, commanded.

"No." Aaron adamantly stated.

"What did you say?" Craig asked as he leaned into Aaron with his hand cupped to his ear.

"I said..."

Craig swiftly snatched the kubaton from your hand and cracked him straight over the head with it, instantly drawing blood.

"Ahhh, fuck man." he wailed and dropped to his knees as the scarlet liquid streamed over his eye, blinding him.

"Oh DAMNNN Sharon, that had to hurt. I felt that crack from clear over here." the gardener chuckled and yanked him to his feet. "Come on naw, giddy up!"

The fun was over for you and now you were second guessing the entire situation as you had the disturbing flashback of doing that to Luke. As the gardener lit up a cigarette and blew donut holes while walking behind the men and flipping them off, you turned to Craig.

"Craig. Come on. Just let them go with their tail between their legs." you pleaded. "I'm a little worried here. I know you're going through some bad shit right now and need to vent but I mean seriously, what more are you going to do to them??"

"Oh..I.." he stressed. "Am not going to do anything. He is. Now, don't you worry about me. I'm a big boy and have done this more times than you know. You said you had things to do, so why don't you run along like a good girl and do them. You don't need to see this and I don't need the distraction of you being there in harm's way."

"Don't even give me your condescending bullshit. Like hell I will leave when this is happening because of me. I'm a big girl and have seen more than you know. You seem to have forgotten who my brother is!" you snapped and marched off to catch up with the mystery man.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." Craig huffed and followed the parade, lighting up his own smoke on the way.

"You smoke?" the gardener asked and held his cigarette out to you.

"I..I used to..but...what the hell. I'll take a hit."

"Thata girl."

One puff and you were coughing and gagging, for you didn't realize it was a menthol.

"You alright there sweet cheeks?" he asked and patted you on the back.

"Yeah..I'm just used to regulars."

"Eww...as if." he smugly riposted and winked at you, then took a huge drag.

You felt your cheeks burning bright red and wanted to crawl under a rock. He had heard your rude comment in reply to his rude comment....but now, you didn't feel that way about him anymore and all of that could change right back after what you were about to see, or...you could like him even more. It was kind of hard to judge him when he was doing the same exact things Jason did. Taking the bad guys down. It made you chuckle inside though, because Sonny was the boss of all of them and he...was a bad guy.

"Sorry." you mumbled in embarrassment.

"Don't sweat it cupcake. It's my bad. I don't know if you've noticed, but I lack a filter on my thoughts. What can I say? That I'm sorry for thinking that you're one fine ass looking femme fatale? I'd be lying because I'm most definitely not sorry for appreciating such a vision...but I will apologize for not using my inside voice. So for that, I'm sorry Josie."

Although his jokes had receded for the moment, his honesty remained in tact but it was ok because he wasn't being inappropriate and you were actually quite flattered. Most importantly though, he was very genuine and humble with those 2 little words that most people didn't mean or found too difficult to say.

"You're forgiven and I'm sorry for saying something so mean."

"Soooo, you don't think I'm...eww as you so bluntly put it?"

"No, of course not."

"Well darlin, you might soon enough."

"Do you know Jason? Surely you must if you're one of Sonny's men like Craig is."

He was quiet and kept his eyes straight ahead as he finished his cigarette and flicked it at Brandon's head.

"Jason's my brother and I've seen it all. The good, the bad and the ugly."

Now his eyes scrolled down to yours, nice and wide. "No shit?? Morgan's your brother? Never would have guessed THAT." he jested. "Well...it sucks donkey balls what happened. I'm sorry for your lo..."

"She knows he alive." Craig cut in with an attitude as he now walked on the other side of you.

"Donkey balls?" you said with giggling astonishment. "Is that how you offer condolences?"

"Hey, believe it or not, I don't always have the words for certain things."

"Never would have guessed THAT."

"Damn girl. I LIKE you."

"That way ladies." Craig barked as he pushed the men into a wooded path and literally turned to give the gardener a severe stink eye.

The gardener was back to his comical comments as he quietly made one to you. "Uh oh SpaghettiO's. Are you and the landlord of the rings an item? because I just got scolded by the salty jealous eye of Sauron."

"Ohhh...n..no. I'm actually already taken. Well..." you corrected. "My heart is anyways."

"I see. Well, I tip my hat to that lucky son of a bitch and even to Craig because he gets to have you under his roof. Can't say I blame him for being sweet on you."

"Craig and I are just friends. No need to read into things."

"As I've already stated earlier, I call things as I see them and I know Craig like I know my own dick....ok...that didn't exactly come out the way I wanted it to, but I think you get the gist. Anywho, he's either truly madly deeply in love with you or he's well on his way there. One of the two."

Maybe you didn't see it before, but now that your eyes were opened to the possibility, it didn't seem that far fetched after the last 2 eventful days with Craig. You and he were definitely growing closer but either way, you couldn't think about that. Now...or ever. Lee was the only one who would ever fully have your heart.

"Let's get this shit show on the road already. I'm already running late." Craig rattled off as you all came to a remote clearing surrounded by overgrown brush that contained a few junked greyhounds and a pile of various tires. "And you stay back Jo. I mean it." he adamantly added and handed you back your kubaton, then walked off.

You froze solid and held your breath as the gardener stood at the point of a triangle with the men while Craig hung out on the sidelines, casually observing with his hands on his hips. He clearly meant what he said. The unarmed gardener was going to handle both men all on his own.

"Are we pissin our pants yet? Cause it's about to be pee pee pants city here real damn quick. Now which one of you candy-ass namby pambies should I pick first? I can't decide." he tormented as he ominously circled them. "I got an idea. Let's play a game. Eeny... meeny... miny... moe. Catch a piggy...by his toe. If he hollers...let him go."

Your heart raced as he came full circle and stopped in front of them and made his choice.

"My mother told me to pick the very best one and you....are....it."

The gardener glowered down at Brandon who's Adam apple prominently bobbed up and down in a gulp of fear.

"Go ahead. Take a swing at me with that iron bar boy. I triple dog dare you."

Aaron couldn't take it anymore and bravely stepped forward. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size tough guy. Leave the boy alone. You and me. Let's do this. I triple dog dare YOU."

"Don't you threaten me with a good time! And for the record, the BOY will get what he had every intention on giving. But if you insist on going first, by all means TOUGH GUY. Hit me with your best sh..."

Aaron spontaneously sucker punched him below the belt and then stepped back with both fists clenched and ready.

A grunt escaped the hunched gardener's lips and then he bellowed in laughter as he slowly stood up, unphased and ignited for war....and finally, he revealed his name.

"Well hot damn, collect two hundred and pass go! Ol boy here likes to play dirty huh? Well I'm the motherfucking king of dirty!! My nut sack is made of steel and I....am....Negan."

Aaron's fists lowered as his eyes widened. "I....I know that name. You...you're the notorious leader of that gang...the..the Saviors? The one who carries a bat wrapped in barbed wire and you..you're the one who burnt and disfigured Dwight's face with an iron!"

A stunned Brandon darted his eyes to the newly named Negan. "You're the one who did that to our boy Dwight??"

Negan made a sarcastic smirk as he looked up at the sky. "Uh oh Lucille. Looks like I've got some splainin to do."

He then brought his hardened eyes back to Aaron. "I told you you'd never forget my name. Ahhh, where to begin. How about with Dwighty boy. So that traitorous prick's been hiding, with a bunch of stank ass bumpkins? Small fucking world. You see, he ain't YOUR boy, he's mine and he touched something of mine and EVERYBODY knows not to touch something of mine so...he got what he had coming to him. Scarred for life indeed he is, for he scarred someone I loved for life, just as this little maggot here was going to do to Josie and that is so not cool in my fucking rule book. You got your clique and I got mine, the only difference is, yours is trash and the Saviors rid the world of trash like you. Too bad I didn't have Lucille here today because she's a vampire bat and she's been very fucking thirsty lately. SO...I'll just have to make due with what I've got. My trusty ol charismatic hands."

Negan's arm zipped out and clutched the back of Aaron's shirt, then he began dragging him over to one of the busses, opened the door and pummeled Aaron's head with it, over and over...bang, bang, bang.

Brandon contemplated on fight or flight, and he chose flight.

"Hey Jeff! We got a runner." Craig called out.

"Jeff?" you muttered, realizing that Negan must have been a stage name like Jason used with the last name of Morgan.

Negan left a whimpering Aaron on the ground and leisurely walked off after Brandon as he whistled that threatening tune once again.

"Going somewhere yellow-belly??"

Brandon spun around and tried to reason with Negan.

"Look." he smiled and turned. "I'm going to put the crowbar down and..."

Negan didn't let him finish because Negan didn't care. His eyes slitted and with his jaw clenched shut, he bee-lined for Brandon, snatching up a sizeable rock along the way and blindsiding Brandon with a powerful blow to the head and once he was down, Negan stood straddling him and gave him another strike for good measure.

Somewhere in that horror scene, you found yourself in Craig's arms, peeking out with one eye, only to watch Negan go and retrieve the crowbar. As he did so, Aaron appeared, revived and ready for more.

Negan smiled at the bloody sight of him, somewhat stunned to see him standing. "Good god, you got one thick ass scull and a death wish. How bout we test out this crowbar on that noggin? You know, kind of like a crash dummy test?"

"You've made your point Negan. Let me take my brother and go. We won't be a problem anymore."

"Oh you've got that right Arianna. You see, I don't like loose ends, for they are a most certainly a problem."

"Jo, don't watch anymore." Craig advised and placed his large hand over your head to shelter you from what was about to happen.

You didn't fight him as you burrowed your face into his the bare section of his chest where his shirt was not buttoned and then you winced as you heard it. The final crack.

All was silent and you slowly raised your head up to see a perspiring and panting Negan standing over Aaron's motionless and most likely lifeless body.

He then turned a sour face to Craig. "Thanks for all your help."

"I didn't want blood on my clean white shirt and you did fine all by yourself, just like you always do."

Still clutched to Craig, he could feel you shaking. "I told you not to come. Are you...alright?"

"Mmm..hmm." you whimpered with a nod and tear glazed eyes.

Negan's demeanor had changed. He was angry, almost as if he hated what he had done.

"I warned you too. How do you like me now sweetheart?" he groaned, then snapped at Craig before he headed over to a small stream to clean up. "You better get your boys over here to clean this mess up. I ain't the fucking maid."

Craig sighed and took out his phone as you stood there in complete shock. You may have witnessed things like this before, but it didn't mean it didn't negatively affect you, just as it seemed to had done to Negan...or Jeff.

Craig's phone call brought you back to reality. "I got a clean up at the junk pile and there's also a trans am outside the complex to get rid of. Keys are in it. Yes..yes I'm sure! I saw them in the ignition as I walked by. Take care of that first before it draws attention and call me back asap when it's done."

You and Craig walked over to Negan who was crouched down at the stream and washing his stressed face.

"The guys are on the way. You good man? Come on. Let's get out of here." Craig quietly relayed.

You could tell he wasn't feeling all that well about it either, but you knew in that line of work, they had to suck it up and deal with it, which once again had you questioning why in the hell they even chose that lifestyle. You asked Jason that many times and his answer was always the same. To make the world a better place and your thoughts were always the same as well. Then why did he work under a man like Sonny Corinthos? Probably because he was untouchable which meant they would be too, but that wasn't even logical. None of them were invincible nor immortal. It just never made any damn sense to you.

"Yeah, good as the good gets I suppose. I'm ready to blow this popsicle stand. I need a ride downtown to get my bike at Xtreme Motors. Fucking thing stalling on me all the time."

Xtreme motors. One of the many businesses Sonny owned throughout Salem where Jason also took his bike for repairs. Hell, the mob boss damn near owned have the waterfront too.

Craig's phone rang again. The cleaners didn't mess around. They were quick.

"Is it done?" Craig asked, straight to the point and then the expression on his face fell flat. "What do you mean the fucking car is gone???"

@redeemer46