Kenny tapped the dirty window with the tip of his fingers while he stared outside and listened to the sound of the falling rain. It was almost dark now, even though it was no more then late noon. Only a faint tinge of red in the sky hinted that there was a sun behind the Colorado mountains.
He let out a sigh and walked away from the somewhat shattered window, and carefully slid himself onto his bed, making sure not to disturb anyone. He laughed a little as he stared at his bed; yeah, what a bed... more like a pile of old, dirty, used mattresses, accompanied by a stained old pillow. Well what to do? His family was very poor, and his father, Stuart, was just a drunken asshole incapable of keeping as much as one lousy job.

He turned upwards and faced the ceiling, and gazed into the cracks. His room was, as usual, covered with posters of bikini-clad women, but none of these caught his attention, because at that moment, his mind was elsewhere. He slowly and softly whistled a tune to himself.

”Happy Birthday To You
Happy Birthday To You
Happy Birthday Dear Kenneth...
Happy Birthday To You ...”

His voice cracked a little when he sang the last line. That was the truth, today was his birthday, but guess what? No-one remembered... no one but him. His parents were always to busy fighting and what not. He wished he would be suprised, but he wasn't. Why should anyone care for him? He was just ”that kid who dies all the time”, right? Nothing more... just a running gag, a joke, a prop.

He got up and pulled his hood on really tight, in the hope it would muffle his sobs. God only knew what would happen if his mother or father heard him crying like a little girl. He lay down once more on the bed; this time he faced the window and stared at the stars as his vision became more and more blurry. He pulled his class photo out of his drawer and placed it next to him on the bed. As he removed one of his mittens, he placed the hand onto Stan's part of the picture. He let out one more muffled sob when he realised that not even Stan remembered his birthday...

”Mffh... (Stan...)” he mumbled as he cried some more, hugging the picture-frame.
As he drifted into an crying-induced sleep, the little voice in his head said something he wished he could have heard from someone other than himself.

'Happy tenth birthday Kenny.'

-

”Fuck!” Stan shouted as he forcefully slammed another toy-store door closed. This was the third store, and he was running out of patience (and stores). He knew he'd seen it somewhere last week in one of these stores when he was driving down the road with his dad. It was this really cute plushie doll with an orange hooded parka that looked almost exactly like Kenny. And that he'd searched for it like a mad man, he couldn't find it. He cursed under his breath once more as he walked down the streets toward the next toy-store. Rain started to pour down, more now than before, and he quickened his pace. He didn't care about how wet he got - he wasn't going to let Kenny down.

”Hello? Anyone in here?” Stan shouted through the door when he finally reached the next store.

Nothing but silence. Well, at least he could take his time browsing through the different merchandise. He carefully scanned the shelves as he dried off one of his mittens. 'This is the last store, so it has to be here, it just has to!' he thought while he somewhat savagely ransacked the shelves.

”Excuse me!” a shrill voice spoke loudly behind Stan, scaring the daylight out of him. ”Just WHAT do you think you're doing?”

”I - I was looking for something, something special,” Stan replied, as he twiddled his thumbs.

”And what might that be?” the store clerk asked as she stared suspiciously at him.

”It was a doll... a plush doll with an orange parka,” he told her, a bit shyly.

She bit down on her lip a bit as she replied, ”I'm sorry, but if it isn't on the shelves, then it's not here.”

Stan's tired body started to break down; his hands shaked. This was just too much for one day for the little ten year old to handle – even so, he forced himself to not break down right there and then.
The only feeling he showed was a look of utter defeat.

The clerk couldn't help to notice Stan's disappointment as she looked at the boy in the poof-ball hat. In a meger attempt to comfort him, she cleared her throat and spoke.

”I could go check the storage area, would you like that?”

”Yes, yes I would,” Stan replied and tried to stop his lip from quivering.

The clerk nodded and left Stan by himself. Stan walked slowly back to the service desk and noticed that they had varying patterns of wrapping paper – perfect for Kenny's present, if the clerk came back with it.

It wasn't long before she came back with a smile. ”Great news kid, I found one!”

”What!?” Stan exclaimed. ”Let me see!”

He streched his fingers out to touch the toy. He held it eagerly in both hands, then hugged it.

'I found you...'

”I'll take it!” Stan said as he dug the money out of his pocket. ”But would you mind wrapping it up for me? It's a present for a friend of mine.”

”Sure thing,” she said happily. ”Which paper do you want?”

Stan didn't say anything; he just pointed towards a specific one. It was special, the first one that Stan noticed when he saw the wrapping paper, and knew it was the right one for Kenny's present.

”Oh! Are you sure about that? That's quite a special friend you got, huh?” the clerk said while she giggled.

Stan didn't reply this time either; he just blushed under his hat. He didn't care what she thought – or more to the point – what she would think, if she knew it was for one specific little boy.

'Yeah, he's special alright,' Stan thought with a smile on his lips.

-

Kenny's eyes stung when he opened them. He had cried his eyes out over the fact that no-one ever seemed to care that he constantly died, or even showed some kind of remorse for his passing. No, most of the time, people just laughed. He could clearly remember the time when he had the chickenpox and died, how they all thought it was funny; everybody just laughed, even his parents!

He yawned and rubbed his sore eyes. He was careful not to push back his hood; it was freezing. Not that the cold was anything new – it always was cold. Most nights he even slept in his parka. He slipped into some socks as he quietly snuck across the creeking floorboards outside his room, where for a moment he stood totally still, taking in any sounds.

Rats. Rats running around in the ceiling, that was all. And snoring; everyone was asleep, both his parents and siblings, which meant it was late now, and it was safe for him to sneak into kitchen and see what time it was.

'10pm...'

It was soon over, his tenth birthday, and no-one remembered. Kenny helped himself to a glass of water, then was about to return to his room when a knock was heard at the door. Kenny waited, and thought that it must have been a figment of his imagination; but one more time, for real this time, there was a knock, a knock loud enough that Kenny heard the rusty hinges of his front door creak a little.

Kenny first looked out the window to see who it was – given his past deaths, it could have been basically anyone, or even a death trap.

”Death...?” he mumbled as he tried his best, but couldn't see through the dark. So, with a sigh, he opened the door with mixed emotions of doubt and fear for what might be hiding behind it.

But it wasn't anything like what he expected.

”MMFH?! (STAN?!)” Kenny cried, loudly but not loud enough to wake anyone up.

”Hi, Ken,” Stan said as he let out a cough, looking very tired.

Kenny removed his hood to examine the other boy closely. He noticed that Stan had bruises and cuts all over, on top of being soaking wet.

”Stan, what happened? Who did this?” Kenny let out, his voice shaking in concern.

”Shelly did. I was supposed to get here much earlier than this, but I ran into her, and as usual she gave me a beating, knocking me out and then left me in a bush in the park. Yeah some sister, huh? But hopefully... did I make it on time, Kenny? It's still your birthday, huh?” Stan smiled.

Kenny faintly smiled back at Stan. ”Yes, you did, thank you, Stan.”

-

They were both in Kenny's room now. They sat on the floor and drank some hot cocoa that Kenny had made for Stan. As Kenny delivered the cup, he gave the raven haired boy a curious look. Stan had a plastic bag that he obviously thought was well hidden – but it stuck out from under his back. Kenny knew this, but he wondered if Stan knew that he knew. He choose not to press the issue and instead enjoy the moment.

”Mmmm... this is delicous Kenny! I didn't know you made such good cocoa!” Stan spilled out as he tasted the contents of the steaming mug.

”Well... I did do that home economics class, Stan,” Kenny let out proudly, as he winked at Stan.

Stan took one last mouthful of cocoa, then put the cup on the floor and stood up. Kenny was about to question this, but he didn't need to, as Stan took him into an heartwarming embrace. Kenny was shocked, but as his emotions kicked back in, he chose to return it, enjoing the feeling as Stan held him close. Kenny enjoyed feeling Stan's warmth, and how his raven black hair tickled his nose just a little bit.

”Kenny, you're the best friend a guy like me could ever have,” Stan admitted shyly into Kenny's ear, to which Kenny radiated a hot red blush.

They stood in each other's arms for a while, until Stan broke the hug, much to Kenny's dismay. Stan slipped the bag and the package out from under his jacket and gave it to Kenny.

”Open it, it's for you,” he said with a warm smile.

Kenny took a long look at the strange package in his lap. It was in the shape of a shoebox and covered in red wraping paper tied with a pink frizzy bow. In the middle of the red there was a big white heart. Kenny blushed a little bit more as he noticed it.

”Er, this was the only paper they had left Kenny, sorry,” Stan lied, blushing a little himself.

Kenny carefully pulled the wrapping paper apart at the sticky-taped edges, careful not to accidentally rip or scratch any, because in secret, he wanted that heart on the front to remain intact. He slowly peeled the paper off with his nails, and when he got to the present, he gasped.

He cringed a little; it was... him? Not really, but it was almost like a Kenny doll. It was beautiful. It even had the same blue eyes, the same fire-orange parka and hood. He couldn't help it when a small tear appeared as he realised that someone really did care about him.

”Stan, I don't know how to thank you...” Kenny said, speechless from his gift.

”Perhaps this will be enough,” Stan said slyly as he crawled towards Kenny.

”Sta-” he was about to to ask, but was too slow – he was abruptly cut off as Stan pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

Instead of being frightned, Kenny returned it without a doubt, and he instinctively ran his hands through Stan's wet mop of hair. Stan moaned softly as he had to part for air, leaving Kenny only wanting for more.

”Geez, Kenny, you done this before, haven't you?” Stan said with a delighted sigh.

To this, Kenny didn't reply; he only blushed a bit more as he looked downward. He never done it before; well, with a boy, anyway. Besides, he couldn't when Stan secretly owned his heart and love...

Kenny smiled at Stan as he looked into the boy's ocean deep blue eyes. He noticed that Stan stared back into his own with a smile. Kenny leaped forward into Stan's arms, and enjoyed the feeling of cuddling up into his embrace like before, but this time it was different; Kenny knew that it was more than just a hug.

Kenny realised that for moments like these, there was no need to the utter the words 'I love you', because it was already so obvious. Stan carefully brushed Kenny's dirty blond hair away from his forehead, and gave it a soft kiss. As he did so, Kenny just clung tighter into the embrace of his fellow ten year old. As Stan moved his arms a little bit tighter around Kenny's middle, he whispered something sweet in the birthday boy's ear.

”I'm sorry you die all the time,
But I will make it all up to you, I promise ~

Happy Birthday, Kenny.”