I do not own these characters

It is funny how the scent of blood can attract so many predators. The thick bitter scent should be disgusting and strike fear in something with the idea of 'what if it was me'. Then again, it was more like the scent was what peeked peoples attention while the sight of the red liquid scared them. That must be why every time Kenny died someone comes around the moment it happens.

Last week it was Kyle, the week before that Cartman, his mom, then Karen, Craig, and now it was somebody Kenny couldn't quite distinguish. He could blame it on the fuzziness that clouded his vision and mind or the blood loss from losing a leg. A dark chuckle gurgled out of his throat, a mixture of spit and blood bubbled in his mouth.

"Oh, god" A worried voice stated under their breath. From the strain in their voice, he could tell they were trying not to cry. Upon knowing this fact, the blonde just wanted to die sooner. It always took forever to die- hours, days, even weeks sometimes. Couldn't God let him die quickly for once?

A hand touched his hair that was mingled with dirt and blood. A small noise left him as a jolt of pain left him, but whoever was petting him shushed him and told him it was going to be all right. A grin pulled at Kenny's lips letting the red liquid that was pooling in there slip out of the corner of his mouth. No. Nothing would ever be right. As long as he continued dying and coming back, as long as he watched his family fall apart by the seams, and watching his friends move forward while he was forced to stay back, nothing would ever be okay.

"Why do ya always haveta go and die, Ken?" The voice asked gingerly as their hand continued to stroke the blondes hair. "God, whate'er you got yur self into was purdy bad." The other stated, a sad chuckle leaving him. "Next time you come get me fur some help, ya got me Ken?" The voice wasn't shaky but demanding, making Kenny feel more secure. Then it clicked, the boy knew who the other was, or rather, he always knew but didn't want for the other to see him die again.

"K-Kevin" He managed to push out past the liquid in his mouth.

"Yeah, Ken, its me. "The oldest McCormick reassured, leaning down to press his lips against Kennys pale forehead. Mustering up all the strength he held in his body, Kenny latched his hand around Kevins shirt in a loose grip.

"D........ve mmm..eeee" Kenny slurred between his wheezing, tears escaping his eyes. His brother said nothing but spoke with his actions. Silently he laid down next to the other, still stroking the sticky blonde hairs, while he hummed a lullaby their mother used to sing for them.

His brother, Kevin, was the only one that cared and ever would care about Kenny and his deaths. Somehow Kevin found his brother during the time of dying or already long gone. Either way the older boy would end up carry the empty body back home to clean it up, waiting for his younger brother to come back so he could yell at him again. He would call Kenny every cuss word in the book and slap him upside the head. Then he would embrace the sore boy in a gentle hug and a kiss on the forehead and give him a smile tried smile that always welcomed him back home

"I lllooooov.y....K-in."

"I love ya too, Ken."