A/N: It has been all too long since I've uploaded anything. The idea for this story comes in part from the episodes: Awesome-O and The Return of Chef, though you don't have to have seen these episodes in order to understand it. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy this story, and just in time for the 200th episode! Woo-hoo! I'm so excited! Tune in Wednesday and be part of this historic event!

Warning: This story contains some pedophilic and incestuous themes. It is not intended to be pornographic or erotic, but rather to be an emotional look into the eyes of a molestation victim. If this kind of story is not for you, you know what to do. Also, I would love to hear some constructive criticism on this story, so if you have some pointers on how I can make it, or my writing in general, better, send me a word. Thank you.

It Wasn't Just Once:

Ch:1

The night had been warm and busy in Los Angeles that summer four years ago. Roads were lively, and a waning moon had barely been hidden by the thin, silk curtains which hung delicately between the window and the bed's headboard. Butters tucked himself deeper into the stiff, cold blankets of the neglected guest bed. Only minutes had passed since his aunt Nellie had tucked him in, adding a comfort despite the austere covers.

"You all tucked in there, boy?" Butters' uncle asked, lingering in the doorway.

Butters smiled brightly in reply. "Yeah, I'm fine Uncle Bud," he beamed, and that was the last time he felt so comfortable in front of his uncle.

First grade had been long ago, and Butters wasn't one to dwell on someone over nine hundred miles away. He wasn't one to dwell until Christmas break, summer break, or occasionally on Thanksgiving. Luckily, this was between the former two, and, as far as Butters knew, there was currently no need for worry.

"Butters," Stephen called. "Oh Butters, could you come here a moment. Your mother and I have to talk to you."

The fifth grader entered the kitchen, his face a display of naïvety. "Yeah, Mom and Dad?" he asked with an unprovoked eager.

"Butters," Linda started, placing the phone on its receiver, "we just got a call from Aunt Nellie. They're having trouble in LA. The branch of the bank she managed shut down."

Butters' smile quickly turned to a frown. "Oh no," he said, empathizing quickly with his aunt.

Linda continued, "but she was offered a job as manager of the branch in Denver. So, they'll be staying with us for a while until she can get things settled out."

"Oh boy," Butters said. "Aunt Nellie's gonna be stayin' with us?"

"That's right," Stephen said, holding up his mug. "So why don't you go clean your room so Aunt Nellie and Uncle Bud don't have to see your mess when they get here."

"Well OK," Butters said before his mind caught up with him. "W-wait," he stammered. "Uncle Bud's gonna be stayin' with us, too?"

Stephen pulled his mug away from his mouth and smiled. "Of course. You didn't think Nellie would come all the way to South Park and leave her husband in LA, did you?" Butters didn't respond, so he went on. "Well, go clean your room, then help your mother with the garage. They'll be here tomorrow, so come home right after school."

In hindsight, it should have been obvious that if Aunt Nellie was moving, her husband would be with her. All the excitement Butters gained in knowing his aunt was staying with him was ultimately crushed by the fear he now had. Never had he stayed with his uncle for such a long, undetermined period, and he wasn't sure what this time would hold. Perhaps this uncertainty, more than anything, was what scared him the most.

Butters couldn't help feeling distracted at school, and his anxiety pulled his attention from anything he did. Despite his best efforts to hide this, his cover fell into jeopardy any time attention was focused on him. At one instance, Mr. Garrison (who even after moving up a grade, these students still couldn't get away from) had called on him, and Butters had to admit, after a string of incoherent mumbles, he had no answer.

Lunch came far too soon. Normally, Butters, as well as any school child, would be glad to feel their day fly by so fast, but Butters was in no hurry to get home. Yet that was not altogether the case. He was very excited to see his aunt. Even with his uncle being there, he would normally feel protected by Nellie, but remembering the special circumstances, a nausea spread throughout him.

Currently, the topic at the lunch table was an all around excitement for the new episode of Terrance and Phillip which was set to broadcast that day after school. This was to be expected on Wednesdays. While nearly everyone around showed an obvious excitement, no group was as outspokenly ecstatic as the possibly most infamous four boys in South Park Elementary.

"Dude, I cannot wait for school to let out," Kyle said, looking about the table.

"I know," Stan replied. "Have you seen the preview? They're supposed to be bringing back a bunch of past characters. It's gonna be sweet!"

"I know," Cartman said, clenching his fists. "I made sure to get a bunch of snacks ready, so as soon as school's out, we have to go straight to my house and get everything together. This episode's gonna kick fucking ass!"

As much as Butters would have liked to share in the excitement, he knew he wasn't going to be able to watch that night. He was fine with this as he was more of a casual viewer anyhow. Today, he had more important things to focus on. Again, his mind dazed in his mixed emotions. If only time could speed up to after school, when he could play and talk with his aunt, and then skip forward past the night so he wouldn't have to deal with... and then he didn't want to think of what might happen.

"Butters?" Kyle said in a tone of slight annoyance.

Butters flicked his eyes to Kyle. "Y-yeah, Kyle?" he asked as calmly as he could in an attempt to hide his strange behavior.

"I said, are you gonna watch tonight?" Kyle repeated, his brow still raised a bit.

"Gee fellas," he began, "I would, but my Aunt Nellie is gonna be at my house when I get home, and I'm awfully excited to spend time with her. Why, I've not seen her since Christmas. I have to get home right away, and I'm sure we'll be busy." Saying this, he almost forgot about night, and he was truly happy.

"(Well,)" Kenny began, "(at least you'll be having fun.)"

School ended without any trouble, and the boys had left for home as quickly as possible, not wanting to miss a second of even the rerun before the new episode.

"I swear to God, Kyle, if I miss the new episode of Terrance and Phillip, I'm gonna be so pissed off," Cartman said. It would just so happen that half way to Cartman's, it occurred to Kyle that he had science homework, and, as if by force of nature, the others had to follow him to retrieve it.

"Dude, we still have twenty minutes," Kyle retorted, just as eager to see the new episode. "We'll make it."

It wasn't until they were leaving the school for the second time that day that the four found Butters pacing about the school parking lot.

"What's Butters doing?" Kyle asked, vocalizing the universal curiosity.

Cartman grunted. "Who cares? He's a gaywad." His tone changed to a whine. "C'mon, I wanna see the new episode."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Fine, let's go," he said, though he was in just as much of a hurry.

"(We should check on him,)" Kenny said, looking out at the other blond. "(He looks depressed.)"

"So? Why do you care?" Cartman asked.

"Yeah," Kyle replied, hoping to end the conversation and make his way to Cartman's living room.

Kenny didn't reply right away. Instead, he just stared at them for a moment before shrugging.

Stan returned the gesture with, "Alright, fine," and the boys made their way to Butters.

Butters had been tracing the lines in the parking lot, idly scooting his foot along the fine gravel that was sparsely gathered at the edge of the lot.

"Hey Butters," Stan said as the four approached.

Somehow, Stan's simple statement was enough to startle Butters. By instinct, he pushed whatever thought he was dwelling on out of his head and put on a smile. "Wuh, hey fellas. What are you still doing here?"

"We were gonna ask you the same question," Kyle said. "It's like, fifteen after. Weren't you gonna get home right away to see your aunt?"

At that, the smile vanished from Butters' face, leaving a hint of terror. "Ah gee," he said, rubbing his knuckles, "I'd love to stay and talk, but I really need to get home. If I don't..." Butters stopped his sentence short, his expression forming into a sort of concentrating daze. His lower lip twitched against the tiny gasp of realization. "My parents will ground me! I-I gotta go home." With that, and before anyone else could get a word in (not that they really tried), Butters crossed the parking lot and rounded the street.

"What was with him?" Kyle wondered.

"Maybe he didn't want to miss Terrance and Phillip like we are," Cartman suggested before checking his watch and making a big show of doing so. "Shit! We have twelve minutes to get home. Good going, Kenny!" he exclaimed slamming a fist into Kenny's arm.

"(What did I do?)" Kenny asked, offended.

"You made us waste time checking on him. He was fine."

"(He wasn't fine,)" Kenny countered. "(He was obviously worried about something.)"

"So?" Cartman replied.

"(So maybe you could not be such an ass-hole and be a little concerned,)" Kenny quipped.

Cartman furrowed his brow. "It's not like you ever cared before."

"Yeah," Kyle agreed, moving on toward the road.

At that, Kenny didn't know how to respond, so he kept quiet and followed the others because that's what he did best.

Butters could easily recall the events that took place four years ago. He could remember the feeling of the rarely slept in bed barely lit by the hallway light. His uncles features were for the most part hidden, the light behind him disguising him in his silhouette. The weight of his body adding to the bed was no anomaly. Perhaps he planned to read Butters a bed time story, or maybe he would give him an innocent kiss on the cheek. In fact, the carnal nature of his uncle's presence did not make itself known until he sat back against the head board and pulled Butters into his lap. Even then, Butters' perspicacity wasn't enough to warn him.

"Uncle Bud?" he asked with a giggle, only amused by the strange behavior. "What are you doing?"

The man positioned his nephew on his lap, allowing him to lean back against his chest. Without any force or sign of hostility, he rose the boy's arms to rest behind his neck before trailing his hands back down the prepubescent limbs where, once he reached the joints, he proceeded to move his fingers.

Butters giggled at the sensation in his armpits. "Stop," he laughed amidst the tickling. "Uncle Bud!"

"Stop? But why?" he asked in playful confusion. "It doesn't tickle does it? Well, what about here?" Slowly, he moved his hands down Butters' sides and, after slipping under the sleep shirt, groped at the sensitive flesh their.

Coincidentally or not, this changed Butters' movements, causing him to wriggle wildly in his uncle's lap, his laughter rising at the same time.

A grunt escaped Uncle Bud at this moment, and in a breathy, raspy whisper, he shushed, "Keep your voice down. You don't want to wake Aunt Nellie. Can you do that?" Butters nodded, and Uncle Bud continued to dart his fingers against his sides. Butters lightly sucked on his lower lip to suppress his giggles, making his body's reaction stronger, unaware of how stimulating his shivers and jerks were for his uncle.

The rough and calloused hands slowly transitioned from rapid wiggling to calm and spread out stroking. The tips ran up Butters' belly, calmly traveling back to the armpits and to the elbow before journeying back down. Butters no longer felt the need to suppress his laughter seeing as how the motions were no longer ticklish. Instead, he focused on what was almost a nice, relaxing sensation. Again, the fingers ran up Butters front, this time placing more focus on his nipples. Uncle Bud circled the pink nubs at first before lightly squeezing them between his fingers. Butters didn't remember which two fingers or if he even felt much from the action, but he did remember feeling confused by the way his uncle was breathing. His breaths were unusually deep and shrouded with moisture.

The hands moved lower, and the further south they traveled, the more the palms flattened into a stroking motion. Butters' eyes widened when his uncle wrapped his legs around his smaller one's and slipped his hand under the waist band of his nephew's pajama pants.

"Uncle Bud?" Butters whimpered, feeling strongly uneasy.

Uncle Bud shushed him, palm stroking. "Be quiet. Don't wake up Aunt Nellie. I thought you said you liked tickles. You didn't fib, did you?"

Ever since Butters could remember, lies were one of the most detestable of sins, and while he didn't have in mind these particular circumstances, the idea of his uncle thinking of him as a sinner put him at a conflict. Because of this, Butters froze, allowing his uncle to feel as he wished. He did exactly as he was told, not making a noise. Neither a whimper nor whine escaped Butters' pursed lips that night, and while he remained deathly recumbent, Uncle Bud proceeded to whisper ardent words hot and wet against his ear.

Upon arriving home, Butters was greeted by his aunt who appeared at the doorway almost instantly. The thick, pink long-sleeved shirt was a surprise considering her usual, warm weather attire. Still, this didn't deter Butters' excitement from seeing who was probably his favorite family member, and he would admit this if not for the guilt of favoritism.

"Aunt Nellie!" he exclaimed, eyes glistening.

Nellie brought her nephew into a tight embrace. "Hey Butters! I've missed you," she responded.

It was at this point when another familiar voice was heard. "Well look what the cat dragged in," Uncle Bud joked, adjusting his cap which sported a conjoined "LA" on the front.

Instinctively, Butters tensed. "Hey Uncle Bud," he said, putting on a smile, though he kept in his aunt's arms.

Linda had prepared hot tea, and Nellie had baked a chocolate cake, for the sisters were always fans of organizing tea parties, especially for their close knit kinfolk. Butters wasn't much of a fan of hot tea, but he could drink it if need be, and he was always eager for cake so he always enjoyed these get-togethers.

Stephen had been taking the initiative to keep up conversation, and Butters was glad to hear his dad brag on him for his good grades. Not often did he hear his parents talk highly of him.

Of course, he was very glad to hear his aunt cut in with, "Well I'm not surprised. Butters has always been a very bright young man." She ruffled her nephew's hair.

Butters knocked his knuckles together. "Ah geez. Thanks Aunt Nellie," he said, blushing a bit.

Uncle Bud turned to Linda and Stephen, setting his cup down. "I'm sure Butters is gonna go far. There's no doubt in my mind," he said, very sincerely. Despite everything, at times like these, Butters felt his uncle was a good person. Perhaps that was what made the truth so painful.

Once the tea was finished, Nellie sent Butters to retrieve a photo album from her bag. Butters was surprised at the plethora of albums. Large and small of different degrees sat stacked in the bag that laid loose around the stack rather than holding it, making the bag seem rather useless as it was.

"Just bring the blue one and some of the small ones, hon," Nellie called, knowing Butters wouldn't know which to get.

Butters complied, bringing them to the kitchen and setting them on the table.

"Here we go," Bud said, opening the blue album. The album contained various pictures from a recent vacation. Everyone seemed to get immediately absorbed within the pictures.

Once Butters grew bored with these - most of which being landscapes that, while the adults seemed to think were fascinating, Butters could not enjoy - he flipped open one of the small albums. He was pleasantly surprised to see his mom and aunt in their teenage years. In fact, the whole album seemed to be of the two throughout high school.

"Oh," Linda said, seeing the pictures. She pulled the book onto the table. "Nellie, did you get these from Mom?"

"Yeah," she confirmed, flipping the page. "Look, this must be your senior prom, Linda."

"Is that you, Dad?" Butters asked, pointing at the young man his mother was with.

"It sure is," Stephen confirmed. Butters smiled. He found interest and wonder in seeing how people could change. His father seemed to have nearly a buzz cut in this picture, which surprisingly played a large roll in how his facial features appeared. He had to admit that his current hair style complimented him better.

"Where's Aunt Nellie at that point?" Butters asked.

Linda laughed. "She was at college, already being swept off her feet."

"That's right," Nellie said. "That year was when I first met Bud."

"You always said you couldn't wait to leave Colorado," Linda said. "You couldn't wait to go somewhere nice and warm, where you could live a wealthy life with a loving husband."

"Well," she said, taking her husband's hand, "I definitely got all that. But you just couldn't bear to leave Colorado. It looks like we both won."

Butters was awed by this. He had never heard these stories. Linda looked to her son and laughed. "Did you know that Bud's the whole reason your aunt is the way she is today? He really did help her all throughout college."

"Well now it looks like we need your help, doesn't it," Bud said. "I'm not doing too good now."

Nellie squeezed his hand. "Hey now," she said, "this is just another chance to sweep me off my feet again."

While Butters would admit this new discovery was very romantic, it also put him at an even stronger unease. He couldn't believe how different his uncle's two sides were. Still, he hoped this meant that his uncle could change. Butters went to bed that night with just such an outlook. Though he knew his aunt and uncle were just a room over, he tried to remain calm. He thought that possibly, his uncle's love for Aunt Nellie was so strong, he wouldn't need Butters. Hopefully, he thought, the earlier reminder of their romance was all he needed to change. Somewhere, the good part of his uncle had to be laying dormant, just waiting to come out. This was enough to help Butters sleep comfortably. Still, some part of Butters must have had its guard up because his eyes snapped open the instant his door was pushed open.

Not a second after opening his eyes, Butters slammed them shut once more. He could barely hear the footsteps against the carpet, and the door closed nearly silently, yet every stealthy movement amplified in Butters' ear. Even with his eyes closed, he could easily imagine what was happening and what was imminent. The familiar breath hit Butters' ear.

"Come on. Sit up."