Hello, South Park! Man, was that ending a rush or what? Well, I didn't see the point of keeping you guys hanging for an epilogue, so here it is, hot off the presses! Enjoy! :)

LAWYERBOT SAYS: "Oh, thank God, it's over."
South Park, both the show and its inhabitants, (c) Comedy Central
Comedy Central (c) Trey Parker and Matt Stone

All characters and events in this fanfiction, even those based on real people, are entirely fictional.
The following story contains coarse language, and due to its content, should not be read by anybody.


At Last

For days, nobody could believe it, no matter how many times it appeared on the news. It was over.

Despite all of the press hailing them as the new-world heroes and shattered governments begging for their assistance in reassembling the world, the boys of La Resistance returned to South Park. They were always taught to keep their own houses clean first, and that's where rebuilding began - the restoration of their quiet, mountain town.

At least, MOST of them returned to South Park. Kyle and Ike returned to Germany, personally shutting down factories and freeing prisoners from the death camps. They would return to South Park later, once all of the broken families were as fixed as possible. Kyle and Ike became a beacon of hope for the scattered minorities, particularly the Jews, who were inspired to come together and rebuild the families and communities that Cartman destroyed. Together, the old buildings of Auschwitz actually became a temporary shelter and synagogue for the displaced Jewish prisoners.

Karen returned to South Park. Kenny did not. The youngest of the McCormick children appeared at La Resistance headquarters (which now focused on rebuilding the town instead of destroying Cartman's empire), carrying a cryptic note detailing that she is now to be treated as a Marsh. "Just until I get back. I've got some unfinished business to take care of." It was signed with a question mark.

The blonde superhero hadn't been seen since, though the boys were closely tracking him. Looters, gangs, anarchists - all sorts of crazy ran rampant while society was in its early recovery stages, and every few days, a news story would break of a busted heist or a van full of arrested ne'er-do-wells. If you watched the footage closely, the lime-green question marks were hard to miss.

As politicians returned to politics and the rest of the world began to crawl out from the trenches of war, the boys could breathe easy as the smoggy fumes of Cartman's reign began to blow away. Life was slowly returning to normal.


On break from the day's attempt at cleaning up the schoolyards, which were untouched since Cartman's raid, where so many of their classmates were captured or gunned down, Stan took a walk over to the South Park cemetery. Thanks and donations were pouring in from across the globe, and the first place the money went was to the graveyards, making sure that the first victims of the war were properly honored.

The noirette gave a sigh as he looked out at the sea of white marble crosses (and the one Star of David for the Brovflovskis). With nothing but their wits and the clothes on their backs, the initial graves were pathetic. They were made of wood, whatever scrap the boys could manage when they could afford to peek their heads out. Not to mention, there were only four. Jimmy Valmer, Timmy Burch, Kyle Broflovski, and Wendy Testaburger. The only four they knew for sure were killed that day. Obviously, they couldn't be more wrong.

The tides had certainly shifted, and the sight of the white sea forced a glimmer of a smile onto Stan's worn face. The innocent civilians of South Park finally had their proper memorials, while Cartman was the one laying in an unmarked ditch.

Only three of the original four graves remained, and they stayed together, right in the empty patch of dying flowers where they were put the first time. Stan beelined towards the trio every time he dared to step foot in the graveyard, usually with a bouquet of flowers or a pink knit hat in hand. Today, he had both.

Wendy's grave was the easiest to spot. In the sea of crosses, Wendy's was a towering angel, hands folded over her heart and wings extended proudly. The feathery details were constantly hung with golden chains and paper leis, all gifts from any townsfolk who stopped by and knew the story; knew the brave sacrifice of a young lady in a purple pea coat.

Stan first placed the bouquet of wildflowers at the statue's base, sitting it down in a patch of fallen petals from his last visit. Wendy loved flowers, especially the bright, vibrant colors of wildflowers.

Once the flowers were down, he turned to the pink knit hat. Ever since Cartman's insanity began, the pink knit hat was his catalyst. It was the reminder to wake up every morning and fight like there was no tomorrow. It hung above his mirror, egging him on every time he entered his bedroom (which had since returned to Kyle, at least partially - the boys were bunkmates now). It was Wendy's spirit, beckoning down from the heavens. And every moment of every day, it brought the same message: give Cartman HELL.

"I did it, Wendy," Stan said softly, trying to hold back tears. It was a foreign sensation to the war-hardened teen, who never had time for crying and emotion while holding together La Resistance. Even before the takeover, he hated crying in front of Wendy; he was the man, it was his job to be the rock.

He gave a weak smile. Then again, she always appreciated a man with sensitivity. It was their love of activism and making the world a better place that brought them together, right? "I know the world's not perfect yet, but it's getting better. This is the time. We can fix things, just like we always wanted."

He wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm going to make the world perfect for you, Wendy. Just like I always promised I would."

Stan had full intention of keeping his promise, especially now that the hard part was over. So, with shaky hands and teary eyes, the noirette stepped up on the gravestone's base, then reached up and placed the knit hat up on top of the angel's head. He had been holding onto it for far too long; it was time he gave it back to its owner.

While up on the base, Stan pressed his forehead to the angel's, as if embracing the moment as the closest he would ever be to the love of his life again. "I love you, Wendy."

After a long pause, he wrenched himself away and returned to the schoolyards.

The rebuilding process would be long and hard, but for once in what felt to be ages, things were finally looking up.

Yay, another story down! :D Thank you guys SO much for all of your support during this story's run - I'll definitely miss all of the Favorite Stories alerts pummeling my phone after the new chapter goes up. XD Readers, reviewers, favers and all, thanks so much for everything! I really hope you enjoyed!

I can't promise when I'll be back to the South Park boards, but I will someday, so keep your eyes out! (Or, if you've got some other fandoms in your heart, give me a watch and see what else I've got running! Totally not a shameless plug or anything, but.)

Thanks again, guys! :)

§ Tucker's Mayflower, signing off! §