Author's Note: This will probably be my only Kyle/Wendy story. I wanted to write something more serious and depressing for a change, and, in all honesty, this is the only way I think this pairing could ever work. I really hope you like it. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.

Disclaimer: South Park © Trey Parker and Matt Stone

Forever in Our Hearts

by Angelic Guardian


Glass shattering into hundreds upon thousands of jagged, irreplaceable little pieces. That's what her heart felt like. It was a painful, empty feeling, one that just wouldn't go away. She didn't want to believe it was true. When it happened, she desperately held onto the tiniest glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he would turn out okay. She wanted to believe that he would wake up, and they would go home together, and everything would steadily return to the way it was.

But that never happened. That tiny ounce of hope she was holding onto so dearly in her heart was crushed mercilessly when the doctor entered the waiting room and delivered the news. As soon as he announced it, her entire world came to a screeching halt. She wasn't exactly sure how to feel at first, considering her mind couldn't fully register the news. Her sense of numbness quickly turned into feelings of shock, confusion, and utter disbelief. It almost seemed as though none of it were actually happening, and instead it was just a really, really bad dream…

But it wasn't a dream. It was reality.

She let out a deep, saddened sigh as she lay wide awake in her bed, reminiscing about that awful night. As much as she hated thinking about it, she remembered it all too vividly. Even the thought of that kind doctor, who'd broken the news to them ever so gently, was enough to arouse feelings of heartache and grief all over again.

She slowly brought up one of her gloved hands and brushed it against her cheek. The soft touch of the wool tickled her skin in the most beautiful way – these gloves were the only tangible things she had to remember him by. They were his gloves, the same ones he'd worn ever since they were just kids. Eventually, his hands had grown too big to wear the gloves, so he'd given them to her instead. She'd graciously taken them from him, appreciating the small yet sweet gesture, though she'd never worn them. They were casually stuffed into her coat pockets, where they were long forgotten over the years. When she finally dug them up again, she'd immediately slipped them onto her cold, small hands. She never took them off since then, as wearing them brought back all of those cherished and nearly faded childhood memories she had once shared with him.

Now, they were so much more than just an old, worn-out pair of red gloves, and she cherished them more than any other possession.


He walked briskly along the icy sidewalk, the snow crunching beneath his boots and the coldness in the air feeling extremely bitter as it stung his face, though he hardly seemed to care. After living in South Park his whole life, he'd pretty much become immune to the freezing cold weather by now.

At least it was something that hadn't changed.

He felt a sudden sharp shiver zip down the length of his spine when a single wet snowflake landed on the tip of his nose. He cursed under his breath, picking up the pace and hugging himself in order to retain some kind of warmth. He passed an abandoned store, where he rounded the corner, and it was in that spot that he almost tripped over something.


He caught himself at the last second, his arms flailing out on either side of his body for balance. He straightened himself back up, looking around to see if anyone was snickering to themselves after witnessing that little incident, but there was nobody around, much to his relief. After fully regaining his balance, he looked down to see what exactly he had tripped over, and his mouth parted in surprise.


She was sitting on the ground, her knees curled up to her chest, her back leaning up against the old building. Her face was buried in her hands, and her long, black hair was sprawled out across her shoulders, covering most of her thin body.

Kyle, in concern, crouched down beside her.

"Wendy, what the hell are you doing here?" he asked. "Do your parents know you're out here?"

She didn't bother removing her hands from her face to look at him. She merely shook her head and shifted her body away from him.

"He…h-he lied to me," she whispered.

Kyle blinked, just barely able to have heard what she said. "What?"

"H-He," she said, finally bringing her head up, but still avoiding his eyes, "he said we'd be together forever. He broke his promise. He wasn't supposed to leave me like that." She paused, trying so hard to hold back what she really wanted to say. She squeezed her hands into tight fists, the rage inside of her reaching its boiling point. "He was nothing but a no-good, fucking liar!"

In his own fit of rage, Kyle grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her arm towards him. She let out a cry of pain, while he used his free hand to forcefully grab her jaw and turn her face towards him so that their eyes met. He leaned his face dangerously close to hers, his eyes two thin, venomous slits.

"Don't you dare talk about him like that!" he said in a low, cruel tone, one that caused Wendy to impulsively shrink back in fear, her eyes darting around wildly. Kyle didn't let go of her wrist as he went on. "He was fucking in love with you, and you know it!"

She stared into his fiery, hate-filled eyes, returning the coldhearted glare, and she was silent for only a moment before violently ripping her wrist out of his firm grasp.

"You just don't understand, Kyle," she said coldly, rubbing her sore wrist.

Kyle's mouth dropped open in complete shock. "I don't understand?!" he said, putting a hand to his chest. "Are you fucking kidding me?! Dude, he was my best friend! You're the one who doesn't understand, Wendy!"

She abruptly stood up then, fixing her beret and tossing a lock of her untamed hair behind her shoulder. She looked down at Kyle, a hurt but serious expression on her face as she opened her mouth to say one last thing.

"You weren't in the car when it happened."

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Kyle to simply sit there and watch her go. The atmosphere around him turned incredibly dark. His thoughts took over, and he became so lost in them that he didn't even notice when another snowflake landed on his nose, this time melting across his pale skin, untouched and forgotten.


That night, Kyle sat alone in his room, his elbow propped on his desk and his cheek resting in his palm. After what happened earlier, he couldn't seem to get Wendy's hurt expression out of his mind, and he knew he wouldn't be able to fall asleep later with his conscience screaming at him the way it was right now. Sighing, he reached for his cell phone on his desk.

He could feel his stomach turning into knots as he dialed her number and put the phone to his ear. He waited anxiously as the phone rang, each ring sounding more drawn out than the last. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a beep on the other end, and Kyle found himself talking without even thinking.

"Hey, Wendy," he began, his stomach flipping uncomfortably. He took a deep breath. "It's Kyle. Listen, I…" He suddenly hesitated, pondering for a moment about whether this message would make any difference at all, but he quickly made his decision and continued.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I know it's crappy to apologize over the phone, but I just…I feel really horrible about how I treated you today. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. I don't know what came over me. I just…snapped. I didn't mean to take it out on you. I know it's been really hard for you, too. I mean, the last thing you need right now is…" He paused again, not exactly sure what he was trying to say.

"Look, I'm just really sorry, okay? I hope you'll forgive me," he finished sincerely.

He ended the call and set his phone back down on his desk. He wanted to feel better. He really did. He was hoping that calling her would help him feel a little better, but unfortunately, he was still deeply wrapped up in his feelings of regret. He wished he could have been in the car that night instead of her. He wished he could have told him to be cautious, to have prevented the whole thing from happening in the first place. If he could have just been there, maybe his best friend would still be alive.

But it was only a wish.


She spent most of her time at the cemetery nowadays. Somehow, she felt strangely at peace whenever she was there. She stared longingly at his tombstone, and as she did, she felt her chest starting to ache. Her heart pounded heavily, throbbing and striking against her body so harshly it was almost as if her heart was trying to burst out of her completely.

The grief suddenly hit her like a powerful wave, pouring out with sorrow. She broke down and sobbed uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face as she gasped for air. Her whimpers echoed into the night, and the loneliness only made her cry harder.

She collapsed then, her hands and knees hitting the cold, hard pavement. She simply lay there, her hands now clenched into two fists, her knuckles beneath his red gloves digging into cement. Her body hunched forward as her knees rubbed against the gravel. She stared at the ground through watery eyes. She choked on her tears, and her head slumped down, when, out of nowhere, she felt warmth on her back.

Startled, she gasped, though her body froze. Her heartbeat sped up when she heard a loud thump as someone fell to the ground right beside her. She hesitantly turned her head, blinking hard to clear the tears from her eyes, the darkness making it even more difficult for her to actually make out the figure. Her breathing grew hot and heavy as she parted her lips and spoke in a meek, scared voice:


The unknown person next to her swallowed an enormous lump forming in his throat, though he couldn't bring himself to hold back his tears anymore, either. He cried, tears rolling down his cheeks like a broken faucet. He sniffled several times before slowly and sheepishly nodding his head in reply.

She tried to look him in the eyes, but it was practically impossible, since his gaze was locked onto the ground. His frail body was arched over, and he was trembling. She cautiously lifted her hand off the ground, unclenching her fingers and spreading them open inch by inch before gently placing her hand on top of his back.

The touch was soft, soothing, comforting…

He eventually turned his head to look at her. His vibrant green eyes met her dark chocolate ones, and she noticed how his eyes looked especially bright in contrast with the dark sky. Two more glistening tears escaped and rolled down his red, blotchy cheeks.

They stared deeply into each other's eyes, containing nothing but hurt and deep sadness.

Without warning, he brought up one of his thin, shaky arms and slinked it around her back, wrapping it tightly around her and pulling her closely to him. She reached up and draped her arm around his neck. The hand she had on his back instinctively slid up and linked together with her other hand. They hugged each other affectionately, their heads resting against each other's shoulders.

They held each other in a way that seemed like they never wanted to let go. They needed each other. Needed the human contact. Needed to know that someone was there for them. Someone who was suffering in the same way. Someone who understood. They needed each other, more so than either one was even able to realize just yet.

She suddenly felt a shiver shoot down her spine, spreading throughout her entire body, crawling all the way through the length of her legs, leaving her veins tingling.

Eventually, they pulled away, their bodies still weak and shaking, their cheeks wet and stained with tears, their noses running. They gave each other a half-hearted but reassuring smile.

They sat together for the rest of the night in a comfortable silence.


"Do you still love him?"

Wendy abruptly stopped walking, and Kyle jerked to stop as well, as the two were holding hands, their red and green gloved fingers laced into each other.

They had pretty much become inseparable ever since that night they spent together in the cemetery. Now, about a month later, they were walking home, and, although it was dark outside, it wasn't as unbearably cold as it usually was.

Wendy stood, motionless, gazing at Kyle with a look of surprise. He simply stared back, patiently waiting for her to answer his question.

However, she didn't respond by saying anything. Instead, she let go of his hand and pulled off one of her gloves. She offered it to him.

"I'm sure he'd want you to have one of these, too."

He looked down at the red glove, then back up at her, and a tiny spark seemed to ignite in the air.

He inched closer to her face. She felt his hand gently rest on her lower back. His other hand reached up and tucked behind her ear, his fingers tangling themselves into her silky hair.

And those beautiful green eyes, the ones that were staring so deeply and lovingly into hers, reaching down into her soul, drifted shut. She closed hers as well, and her heart started racing as she felt his hot breath near her lips.

And then he kissed her. Nothing overly dramatic or passionate, nothing filled with fireworks or driving adrenaline. Just a sweet, innocent kiss, one that sealed the fact that he would always be there for her, just as she would always be there for him.

They slowly broke apart, their lips now warm and tingling from the tender kiss.

She opened her eyes to see his kind, emerald eyes staring back at her. They both stood there, the dark blue sky growing darker, the crickets chirping in melodic harmony, the snow falling silently around them…

Kyle smiled at her as he took the glove from her hand, and for the first time since Stan's death, Wendy could feel her heart filling with happiness as she returned the smile.

It was in that moment, they both knew their broken hearts were finally beginning to heal.