I know I said in the beginning that I planned to make this story seven chapters long. Well, this not the last chapter. Seven chapters just wasn't gonna cut it for this story. Not with the Kyle-subplot which I had not planned on in the beginning and the coming-out-to-Stoley bit which was totally a last-minute decision. Anyways, I hope when this is all over, I won't realize that I totally messed up the structure and got this story all wrong by trying to do too much with it.

Thanks to Bialy, MaxMizuhara, and fadefade for reviewing. fadefade: You really like EVERYONE? I shall die happy now. Thank you! Bialy: I am not worthy of your delicious reviews. I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations.

I don't own South Park.

When You Have Everything to Lose

Chapter 7: The Truth Is…

"You're gonna let me copy that when you're done, right?"

Craig didn't look up from his biology assignment. "Whatever. I'm already doing Cartman's for him, so I guess it doesn't really matter."

"Why are you letting that fatass push you around?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"Because your life is way more interesting than mine."

"Clearly. Why are you here anyways? No one ever comes to my house except for…" Craig's voice trailed off, and Kevin didn't push him to finish the sentence. He strolled over to the cage sitting on top of Craig's chest of drawers and peeked in at the sleeping rodent inside.

"This thing's still alive? What is he, eight years old?"

"The oldest guinea pig ever lived to be nearly fifteen," Craig replied in a monotone voice, not sure why he knew this information or how it answered Kevin's question.

"Older than your fake girlfriend," Kevin commented. "Impressive."

"Shut up, Kevin." Craig heard the doorbell ring, but was in no mood to answer it. "Dad! Door!"

"Is your dad even home?"

"Hell if I know."

Kevin bit his lip, eyeing his friend from across the room. Finally, he marched over to Craig's desk and lifted himself up onto the hard wood beside the other boy's homework. Enough small talk. It was time for the interrogation. "So… How long have you been gay?"

"Fuck off."

"Well I just found out today. You can't blame me for having a few questions."

"I thought I made it clear that I'm not talking about this."

Kevin snatched Craig's biology book away and scooted to the middle of the desk, determined to have his friend's undivided attention. "I've already figured out that you're gay," he said. "And I know that something happened with Kenny, but you still haven't told me what it was…"

"And have no intention to."

"…And I'm pretty sure Cartman knows about it somehow and is using it against you."

"Congratulations on being a perceptive little asshole, Kevin. I'm still not talking about it."

"Why not? Come on, Craig, it's not like I'm asking you to fill me in on kinky details of your one night stand with Kenny or whatever."

"It wasn't a one night stand you nosy fucking chink."

"Okay, you didn't just call me that, faggot," Kevin shot back, glaring. But his expression quickly changed from anger to realization. "Wait, it wasn't? So you two were like…?"

"Yes, Kevin. God."

"So did you two, like…?"

Kevin was interrupted by a knock on Craig's bedroom door. "Come in," Craig muttered, snatching his book back from his friend.

The door swung open and Craig's father stood there, holding an old shoe box. "That McCormick kid stopped by," he explained. "Said this was yours."

Craig grunted in reply, flipping through his book to try to find the page he'd been on, and Kevin rolled his eyes, standing up. "I'll take that."

"How come you haven't been hanging out with that kid anymore?" Mr. Tucker asked his son, holding out the box to Kevin. "You used to have him spending the night over here all the time."

Kevin raised an eyebrow at Craig, who just glared at the smaller boy. "We just stopped getting along, Dad," he mumbled.

Mr. Tucker shrugged. "Not that I'm complaining or anything. That freeloader was always eating all our food. Plus, I think he was a little gay for you."

Kevin snickered and Craig flipped him off. "Um…thanks for dropping that off, Dad. Kevin and I have homework so…"

"Kay. Pizza sound good for dinner?"

Craig nodded and his dad left, closing the door behind him. Kevin shook his head, laughing lightly. "Something tells me there wasn't much sleeping going on during those sleepovers of yours."

"Shut up, Kevin."

"I'm opening this," Kevin warned, lifting the lid of the shoebox in his hands. "If there's a vibrator or something in here I'm kicking your faggot ass."

Kevin rummaged through the box for a few minutes before Craig finally looked up from his homework and asked, "What's in it?"

"A t-shirt, a toothbrush, a mixed CD and…I think this is a clay zebra."

"It's a deer, you retard," Craig mumbled, sounding slightly offended. "Kenny likes hunting."

"Did you make this? Aw, Craig. How incredibly sentimental and…lame of you."

"It's just a stupid piece of junk I made in art class."

"Well you're a shitty artist."

"Whatever, dude. Give me the t-shirt. You can throw the rest of that crap away."

Kevin held up the CD. "What's on here?"

Craig shrugged. "Just some songs I threw together for Kenny."

"Can we listen to it?" Kevin asked, opening the case.

Craig tapped his pencil against his biology book irritably. "Listen, the guys are meeting at Tweek's right now, aren't they? You can go join them. I'll just let you copy this in the morning."

"You want to be left alone. I get it."

"Throw that junk away on your way out."

"You got it," Kevin replied, tossing Craig the t-shirt before heading out his friend's bedroom door. He eyed the CD curiously as he walked through the living room, out the front door, and down Craig's driveway. When he reached the end of the driveway, he returned the CD to the box and lifted the lid of the metal trashcan, dropping the shoe box and its contents inside.

"What's that?"

Kevin looked up, surprised to see Cartman standing in front of him. "Just some stuff Craig wanted me to throw away for him."

"Is Tucker home?" Cartman asked, nodding toward the house.

"Yeah."

"He done with that biology assignment yet?"

"He's working on it now."

"Oh… I'll just get it from him tomorrow then."

Kevin eyed the large boy suspiciously. "You do that."

"Right. Well, bye," Cartman muttered, turning around and walking away. Kevin shrugged as he turned and departed in the opposite direction as the fat teenager.

Cartman walked for a couple of minutes before turning his head around to see Kevin turn the corner at the end of the block. Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, he jogged back to Craig's trashcan and lifted the metal lid.

"There you are, Kenny," Kyle said, when his front door opened and his blond-haired friend walked in. "What took you so long?"

"I had to drop something off at Craig's," Kenny answered, strolling over to the couch and planting himself on the middle cushion between Kyle and Stan. "So what's going on? What's the big emergency?"

Kyle and Stan exchanged nervous glances before Kyle pulled a worn-out sheet of white paper from the back pocket of his jeans. "I found this in my locker yesterday."

Kenny took the paper from his friend and read the letter silently, laughing to himself at a few parts, before looking back up at Kyle. "While this letter is amusing and somewhat desperate, I don't see how you having a secret admirer qualifies as an emergency."

"It…smells like you," Stan told him hesitantly.

Kenny raised his eyebrows. "You think I wrote this. Come on, you guys. If I wanted Kyle this badly I think I'd have him by now."

"I'm not gay!"

"Whatever, dude. The point is, I didn't write this gay-ass love letter."

"We know you didn't," Stan replied.

"Then why did you…?"

"That's not all I found in my locker," Kyle cut him off. Kenny stared and Kyle and waited. Kyle sighed and pulled the tissue paper-wrapped red rose from his backpack that lay at his feet. "I got this today."

"Your secret admirer sent you a flower? Well that's…lame. Dude, your secret admirer is weird. Are you looking for my opinion or something? Because the answer is no, I wouldn't sleep with this person."

"You already have," Stan muttered.

"Come again?"

Kyle bit his lip. "Kenny, I… I saw Craig put this in my locker."

"Craig," Kenny repeated, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah."

"Craig put that rose in your locker?"

"Yeah."

Kyle and Stan watched as Kenny took a deep breath, then buried his face in his hands. Stan shot Kyle a worried glance before placing a hand on Kenny's trembling shoulder. Kenny shook in silence for a moment while Stan patted his back awkwardly. After a while, the blond pulled his hands away from his face to reveal watering eyes and mouth spread into a…grin? Stan pulled his hand away. "Dude, are you laughing?"

"I'm sorry," Kenny gasped between intermittent fits of laughter. "You guys…are so…stupid."

"What? No we're not."

Kenny held his aching sides as he caught his breath. "You think Craig wrote that letter to Kyle? Are you out of your fucking minds? I mean…are you aware of how ridiculous that is?"

"Hey now," Kyle said, offended. "You said yourself I'm not totally unappealing."

"Okay, first of all, Craig had me. I'm not trying to sound cocky or anything, but there's a huge gap on the hotness scale between 'not totally unappealing' and 'Kenny McCormick'." Kyle crossed his arms huffily as Kenny continued. "And secondly, I've gotten enough notes from Craig over the past two months to know that this," he picked up the letter that sat in his lap, "is not from him. He'd never use words like, 'glimmer of hope'. That's the cheesiest bullshit I've ever read."

"But I saw Craig at my locker today before I found this rose," Kyle insisted.

"I don't doubt that," Kenny replied. "I saw the thing in Craig's bag today and thought it was pretty weird. But, dude…that doesn't mean he likes you."

"So you're saying it's a joke or something?" Stan asked.

"Not necessarily. It's definitely possible that some whiny sap is in love with Kyle. Maybe they just paid Craig to deliver the rose."

"Why does the letter smell like you then?" Stan countered.

"It's not my freaking signature scent, Stan. The smell only proves it's from a dude. He probably bought the aftershave at a drugstore like all the other thousands of guys who wear the exact same stuff."

Stan frowned, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of this himself. "Well now I feel like an idiot."

"Rightly so, Marsh, because you are one."

Kyle sighed, shaking his head. "And we rehearsed this whole conversation. We thought you'd be upset."

Kenny laughed. "If this mystery-admirer-stalker-person gives you something that looks like it could actually be from Craig, then we'll see if I'm upset."

"God," Kyle muttered. "I can't believe I really thought Craig was my secret admirer."

Kenny chuckled. "If only Cartman knew about this gay secret admirer thing. He'd laugh his fucking ass off."

"Dude, does caffeine even do anything for you anymore?" Token asked.

Tweek twitched. "Not really. But if I don't have some every few hours I get a migraine. And my hands start shaking. And once I went for two days without coffee and I kept thinking there was someone in my closet." He gulped down the contents of his mug. "You sure you don't want any?"

Token wrinkled his nose. "No thanks, man. Your dad's coffee is what makes you crazy."

"I'm not crazy."

"Besides, it tastes like crap."

"Suit yourself," Tweek mumbled, pouring himself another cup. He looked across the table. "How about you two?"

Token rolled his eyes at Clyde, who was currently tangled up with his girlfriend in the booth across from them, trying to eat her face off from the looks of it. "I think they're good, Tweek." He glanced around the empty coffee shop. "Dude, this place is barren. In fact, I never see any customers in here. How is your family not as poor as Kenny's?"

"His mom whores herself around town on the weekends," a fifth teenager replied, sliding into the booth beside Clyde and Bebe.

"Fuck you, Kevin!"

"Where have you been?" Token asked.

"Playing tennis," Kevin replied simply. It was a stupid response, the first thing that popped into his head, but he knew it didn't really matter how he answered as long as he said it like it was true.

Token wouldn't have had the chance to question it even if he had actually cared where Kevin had been, because at that moment, Bebe let out a shrill giggle, and the guys looked over to see Clyde whispering something to her as he nibbled at her earlobe.

Tweek scowled. "Get a room."

Clyde laughed into Bebe's ear. "He wants us to get a room. Whose should we use, his or his parents'?"

"Gah!" Tweek cried. "That's not what I meant!"

"Tweek's right, dude," Kevin said to Clyde. "No one wants to see that. You guys are always making out in here. It's probably why this place never has any customers."

"That," Token put in, "and the coffee tastes like ass."

"You're an asshole, Token," Tweek muttered, his eye twitching as he took another sip of his coffee.

Bebe pulled herself off of Clyde's lap and looked around the table at the guys. "Speaking of assholes," she said, "where's Craig?"

"Don't know," Clyde responded.

"Don't care," Token added.

"Probably doing homework," Kevin supplied.

"He keeps to himself a lot lately, doesn't he?" Bebe asked. "He really ought to be a little more social. He could be popular if he wanted to. If you ignore the braces, Craig is pretty cute. I mean, he's so tall, and his ass…"

"Hey, hey," Clyde cut her off. "Can't you wait 'til I leave to take a piss or something before you start swooning over Craig's ass."

"I don't think Craig cares about being popular," Token told the girl.

"Heidi likes him, you know," Bebe went on. "You guys should let me set them up. They'd be cute together."

"He doesn't want to be set up," Clyde told his girlfriend. "He's already dating a…"

"Clyde!" Token cut him off sharply. "That's a secret, remember?"

"A secret?" Bebe asked, looking intrigued. "Ooh, fun. I want in."

"A secret," Token emphasized, staring pointedly at Clyde. "As in, not for your loud-mouth girlfriend to know."

"Hey!"

"No offense, babe," Clyde said, kissing Bebe's neck softly, "but they're right. It's not my secret to tell."

"You wouldn't really want to know anyways," Token consoled the sulking female.

"Yeah," Tweek put in. "You couldn't handle the truth."

Kevin just shook his head, laughing to himself.

Craig scrawled the name Eric Cartman on the top of the biology assignment before tearing the page from his notebook to shake off the eraser shavings. "Done," he mumbled, reminding himself that Cartman could be doing something much worse to him than forcing him to do his biology homework. He spun around in his desk chair and sighed as he stared at his empty bedroom. He regretted sending Kevin away. Sure, the kid was annoying as hell, but Kevin's company was better than no company at all.

His friend had taken that afternoon's confession surprisingly well. Of course, Kevin had all but forced the confession out of him, but he still had to admit that Kenny could be right. Maybe his friends knowing the truth wouldn't be so bad.

Then again, it was only Kevin. Kevin was tiny and harmless. Like a kitten, but without the claws. The rest of his friends might react differently.

"Craig! Pizza!"

Craig jumped, startled by his father's voice. His stomach rumbled. Had he been so deep in thought that he didn't even realize how hungry he was? Turning back to his desk briefly to close his biology book, he stood and left the room.

"Hey, Dad," Craig greeted his father, taking a seat next to him on the couch and taking a slice of pizza from the open box on the coffee table. Mr. Tucker nodded in reply, chewing purposefully. They were men of few words. "Closed up", as Token would say. Which was, Craig suspected, the reason his mother left his father four years earlier. Maybe it was genetic. Maybe the men in his family were doomed to be alone.

Or maybe Craig could change that.

"Hey dad?" he said, after swallowing the first bite of his pepperoni slice.

His dad turned to look at him. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier. About my friend Kenny."

"It was true. He is a freeloader. I mean, I know the kid's poor, but…"

"Not that," Craig cut him off. "The other part. About Kenny being gay."

Craig's dad took another bite. "What about it?" he asked around a mouthful of melted cheese.

Craig chose his words wisely. "Well, what if he was? Would you not want me to hang out with him?"

Mr. Tucker shrugged. "I don't care if your friend is gay, Craig. You can hang out with whoever you want." He thought for a moment before adding, "As long as they're not on drugs."

"Well that's good," Craig said, licking his lips nervously. "Because he is. Gay, I mean. Not on drugs."

"I thought so."

Craig took a deep breath. "Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I was?"

"What if you were gay?"

Craig nodded. "Would you be mad?"

Mr. Tucker didn't say anything. Instead, he placed his half-eaten slice of pizza back in the box and pulled his son into a long embrace.

The last time Craig could remember his father hugging him was at his eighth grade graduation. It had been awkward then and it was awkward now. It was all tense shoulders, bumping elbows, and pained grimaces as not knowing what exactly to do with their heads. He knew what kind of effort his father had to put forth to make this kind of gesture, but Craig was thankful when it was over.

"Did you know all along?" Craig asked when they finally pulled apart.

"I figured it out watching you with that friend of yours."

"And you're not upset?"

"Why should I be upset?" his father replied. "But…that Stoley kid…he isn't…"

"No, Dad. God, no."

"Good," Mr. Tucker sighed. "He's too fucking short for you."

"Kevin's too fucking annoying, Dad."

"And your other friends? Token, Tweek, Clyde…"

"Straight as arrows."

"So…Kenny McCormick, huh?"

Craig nodded. "Kenny McCormick."

"Well, it's not exactly what I imagined for my son as I watched him grow up, but…it's not a terrible match."

Craig smiled, diving back into their forgotten pizza. "I didn't think so either."

"So, um, when he slept over…"

"Dad."

Mr. Tucker backed off. "You're right. You're right. I probably don't want to know."

"And I would say…it's hard for me to feel this way about anyone…so I just came to see… So think about it…before you move your lips to say anything… How do you feel about me?"

Cartman tapped his foot to the slow music that played from the CD player at his side. He'd never heard anything on the disk before, but he was pleasantly surprised with Craig's taste. It was nothing like the stuff he normally listened to, mostly sappy love songs that he'd probably chosen with Kenny in mind, but he liked it nonetheless. He was a little surprised that he could like anything that Craig liked, especially the song that was currently playing, which happened to be particularly slow. When this blackmailing-Craig ordeal was all over, which would be soon if all went according to plan, he'd be sure to tell the homo that he had some gay-ass taste in music.

He had already discarded the other items from the shoebox. They sat at the bottom of a plastic waste basket beside his couch. Because while the ugly-ass hunk of clay was amusing, it was not useful to him, and keeping someone else's toothbrush would just be gross.

Cartman looked up when he heard the knob turning on his front door. He hit the stop button on his CD player just as the door swung open to reveal Kenny standing on his porch.

"Hey, Cartman," Kenny greeted him, welcoming himself into his friend's heated living room. "It's fucking freezing out there."

"Jesus, Kenny. I know that children raised in poverty aren't taught any manners, but don't you know to knock before just letting yourself into another person's house?"

"You never knock on my door when you come over," Kenny pointed out.

"Because your door falls off its hinges if you hit it too hard."

"Only because you decided to kick my door in when we were thirteen because I refused to 'respect your authori-tah' and my parents couldn't afford to fix it properly. Anyways, friends don't need to knock."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Well don't just stand there checking out my physique, Kenny. Sit down."

Kenny crossed the room to take a seat on Cartman's couch and sighed. "Dude, it has been a long day."

"Oh? I didn't realize acting like a cock-tease for Craig in biology was such excruciating work."

"I talked to Craig today," Kenny replied.

"Oh, god," Cartman muttered. "And now you want to talk about it? Is this why you came over?" Kenny nodded and Cartman groaned. "Can't you talk to Stan and Kahl? They know more about fag stuff than I do."

"I was gonna talk to them at Kyle's today but…well, I realized that they're both morons."

"Bout time you figured that out."

"I just need your opinion on something."

"You don't need help finding something to wear, do you? Because I'm pretty sure I'm not the right person to tell you which pair of skinny jeans is best suited to make Craig's hard-on quiver. Kahl's a homo. I think he'd be your go-to guy for that sort of thing."

"Cartman, I'm being serious."

"Okay, okay. What's up?"

"I need to know whether I did the right thing, breaking up with Craig."

"And you're coming to me for this?"

"I know your moral compass doesn't exactly point due north, but…I know if I asked Stan and Kyle they'd both just tell me what I want to hear. I want the truth. Even if it's from you."

"You want the truth? From me? The most homophobic asshole you know."

"Look, pretend for a minute that we're not talking about two guys here. Think of Craig and me as just two people who broke up."

Cartman sighed. "Okay…well…were you happy with Craig?"

"Yeah. Or, mostly. You know, aside from the keeping-it-a-secret part."

"And was Craig happy?"

"I…I think so."

"So you were both happy before. For the most part. And now…"

"Neither of us is," Kenny finished sadly.

"It seems kind of selfish to me," Cartman concluded.

"But it was selfish of him to make me keep it a secret. Acting like a jerk when his friends were around and hiding me under his desk when his dad came home early. I hated the way that made me feel."

"But did you ever think about how he felt?"

"Oh, you're one to talk about seeing things from other people's point of view."

"You wanted my opinion, Kenny."

Kenny crossed his arms. "Go on."

"The dude's obviously freaked out at the idea of people knowing he's gay, and…well you kind of gave him a crappy ultimatum, Ken."

"It wasn't a crappy ultimatum! Me or his fucking pride. I thought the choice would be pretty fucking obvious."

"You think that's how he saw it? He had to either tell the world the most personal thing about himself or be alone."

Kenny swallowed hard, his expression softening. "And he chose to be alone."

Cartman nodded.

"Shit, now I feel bad for him. I mean, he's alone and he's being blackmailed by you, but he's still too scared to come out of the closet. He must really be afraid of what people think."

"Which doesn't make a lot of sense to me. I mean, it's Craig. People hate him already, so what does he have to be afraid of?"

"People don't hate Craig."

"Yes they do. He's an asshole."

"No, Cartman. You're an asshole." Cartman shrugged in response and Kenny sighed. "You know, he told me he loved me today."

"Shit, Kenny."

"Stan and Kyle would have told me I did the right thing. But now I think… Trying to get someone to come out of the closet before they're ready is kind of a shitty thing to do, isn't it?"

"Sounds pretty shitty to me."

Kenny smiled up at Cartman. "Thanks, Eric. You know, as hard as you try not to be, you're a good friend."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Just don't tell Stan and Kahl."

"Your secret's safe with me," Kenny promised, standing up. "I should go home. Thanks again."

"Don't get used to it!" Cartman shouted after him as Kenny headed out the front door.

The overweight teen frowned deeply as his impoverished friend shut the door behind him. He leaned back on the couch and tilted his head to look at the CD player beside him. Sighing, he opened it and pulled out the mixed CD. Squeezing his eyes closed, he brought the CD to a wastebasket that sat beside the couch. He licked his lips as the hand holding the CD hovered above the wastebasket for a few moments. Then, he jerked his hand back and returned the mixed CD to its plastic case, snapping it closed before sliding it into his backpack.

So, I kind of beat myself up over deciding what song lyrics to use for Craig's mix CD, and I'm still not sure I made the right choice. Honestly, I have no idea what type of music Craig would listen to, so I chose a song that A) reminded me of Crenny in this story and B) was not easily recognizable, so readers would not be turned off to this story by a song they really hated. The song I chose is "Before You Move Your Lips" by Zach Berkman.

Anyways, thanks for reading. Review?