Author's Notes: Thanks to It'sAllGooeyAndSticky, Shiroyuki-kun, MariePierre, TheOneWhoSmokesCrackPairings, Melinda Sandy, Halliwell, -HeartbreakProductions-, Darkslayer, SCBunnyGo, and ACreditToDementia for the reviews. You guys have kept my spirits up!

I'm sorry that it's been awhile, but while I was gone, I went to Japan for a week, packed up our apartment, drove from NY to OH to NC to MI to work 2 conventions, and then moved into our new house. ...And then that last episode of South Park happened and smashed my heart into a million itty bitty pieces. I cried. A lot. And then my grandfather died.

No, seriously.

Writing this was my therapy and I hope that reading it might be part of yours. I don't even care if you leave a review - but leave me some commiseration about the most recent episode and it'll help. I still have hope about the future of SP, but I am also still... Really Fucking Sad.

I believe there are two chapters left after this before it ends... and the sequel begins.

Thanks, as always, for reading. :)

"KYLE! KYLE!" Stan shouted, shaking his super best friend as he sank to the floor of the shack with the other boy's body cradled in his arms. He dragged Kyle into his lap, reaching with one hand to turn the redhead's face towards his, but he could barely see in the dim lighting of the shack. He didn't know what to do and he couldn't ask his best friend for help. This can't be happening.

"FuckfuckFUCK!" Kenny cursed, unbuckling himself from his snowboard and scrambling over their pile of equipment to get to his two friends, phone in hand.

"Bring the light over here, Kenny!" Stan yelled, his voice rising in pitch to near-hysterical. They were alone in a shack on a mountain in the middle of a blizzard, and the danger suddenly seemed more real than even the worst imaginary things he'd witnessed. What if he doesn't wake up? What if…

"Is he still breathing?" Cartman asked, but immediately shut up when Kenny shot him a death glare. Stan's shoulders were heaving as he shook Kyle again, but Cartman felt no glee at all – only dread and guilt and -

"Under… the boardwalk…"

"What? What did he say?" Kenny asked in confusion, grateful just to hear anything come out of Kyle's mouth. It meant he wasn't dead. Kenny had no idea what to do – this wasn't something he could just… jump in front of to protect his friends. Not a bullet I can just take…

"KYLE!" Stan was in tears now, alternately shaking Kyle or hugging him tightly, one arm under the other boy's shoulders. He knew he was losing it and that he needed to not lose it in order to get them out of this mess, but all he could do was think about Kyle – about the possibility of losing Kyle.

A million stupid images raced through his mind – the bus stop, the clubhouse, their bedrooms… Kyle laughing, Kyle raging, Kyle crying… Stan suddenly felt sick to his stomach - sick, sick, sick over the way they'd left things last night.

Did I really walk out on my Super Best Friend without even hearing him out?

In all the times they'd almost been separated - when Kyle's family moved to California over the hybrid issue, that crazy Blaintology cult, his own stint with the whales – and all the stupid shit they'd let come between them – like naming frozen dudes from the past or crack babies - the only time Stan ever remembered being this scared shitless was the week that Kyle had been diagnosed with diabetes and almost died…

And the only time I remember feeling this hopeless…

Stan swallowed hard and tried to pull himself together, even as memories that burned like white hot fire washed over him. No matter how pissed off he might have been about either of his friends kissing Kyle last night, it suddenly seemed completely miniscule in this moment, where suddenly it didn't matter what he and Kyle were to each other – just that he couldn't fucking imagine living without him.

I can't live without him.

Even when Stan's world had fallen apart around him six years ago, his parents had divorced, his house had been sold, his whole life shaken to the core… even when he'd disconnected from reality and all but given up on life itself, Kyle had found a way to drag his cynical ass kicking and screaming (and crying) back into the light. And if there was no longer a Kyle in the world…

I can't go back to the whole world being SHIT again.

I can't… I won't!

"Kyle, wake up, please! KYLE!"

Kenny felt completely helpless as he held the light above them, watching Stan smooth the hair back from Kyle's pale face, but he noticed the reaction it received. "Dude, his eyes – his eyes fluttered!" Sitting down on the other side of Kyle, he reached with his free hand to take Kyle's limp hand, squeezing it tightly. "He's not totally gone, Stan – talk to him, shake him or… or kiss him or something!"

"KYLE! Kyle, you've got to wake up!" Stan tried again in desperation, Kenny's encouragement giving him a moment to catch his breath and thoughts. Kyle would tell me to think positive… "Kyle, come on, don't… don't leave me here to deal with these two on my own! You're scaring the shit out of me, dude! It's not funny! It's not fair! Not when you said… you said you'd always be my Super Best Friend…" Stan leaned in closer, running his fingertips down Kyle's cheek as he watched the green eyes flutter again. Come on, Kyle…

The last thing Kyle had said to him earlier floated back into his mind and he repeated it, trying to reach him. "How can you do that if you're not here? How can I give you an answer? How will I know… 'how we could be'… how can I tell you…tell you how much I love you, if you're not even fucking listening? You've… you've got to… Wake Up!" Stan pressed his lips against Kyle's fiercely once, twice, a third time before he finally got the vaguest response. "Kyle…" he mumbled against the other boy's lips in relief when the redhead finally kissed him back. "KyleKyleKyleKyleKyle…"

Shivering violently as he struggled back to consciousness, Kyle forced his eyes opened and gazed up at his friends blearily, realizing slowly that Stan was kissing him repeatedly and swiftly and saying his name and... He couldn't help but try to kiss back, even if he wasn't sure what the fuck was going on. Stan's face was streaked with tears when he finally drew back a little, and then he buried it against Kyle's shoulder a moment later, clutching at him tightly and muttering something like fuckkyledudefuck over and over. "Stan…?"

Kenny leaned in with a smile, shining the light away at an angle to keep from blinding him. "Hey, you back with us, dude?" There was a note of worry edged into the relief in his voice and he squeezed Kyle's hand again, concerned when the squeeze he got back in response was weak.

The world was spinning oh-so-badly and Kyle swallowed hard, blinking a few times as he tried to string thoughts into words into coherency. "Blood…sugar… fuck… fuck."

Though it wasn't much, the words were enough for Stan to realize instantly what had gone wrong and he felt immediately guilty. Of course, Kyle hadn't eaten breakfast because Stan had rushed them out the door, and he hadn't eaten lunch because they'd been off on Stan's suicidal shack hunt and… I am a fucking asshat. "Kyle, where's your backpack?"

Kyle shook his head minutely, irritated at the effort it took, and then sighed heavily. "No time…to find…"

Stan frowned, mentally kicking himself in the nuts for not even thinking of his best friend's well-being. He never really thought of Kyle as being delicate, but, then… usually the other boy was so damn careful about everything. He must have been really upset to just forget… "Everyone empty your packs," he commanded sharply. "We've got to find something for Kyle to eat or he's going to pass out on us again!" When Cartman still remained frozen against the door, Stan growled at him and pointed. "Pack! NOW, Damnit!"

If ever there was a time for Cartman's unending appetite to become an advantage, this was it, and as he shook his bag upside down, spilling the contents of his rather large pack across the floor, Stan nearly sobbed in relief.

"What… the fuck… are you doing with Kyle's backpack?" Stan hollered, pointing and holding out his hand for the small black bag. "Not that I'm not... but… but… but fuck!"

"We were rushing! I'm fucking sorry!" Cartman babbled as he tripped himself, trying to hand over the bag while still attached to one ski. "We were running out the door and I was hungry and I grabbed it becausebecausebecause…" And he paused to blubber out a loud sob as he finally tossed it to Kenny instead. "Because I knew it had snaaaaaaaaaaackssss!"

"Being a fatass… actually paid off?" Kyle managed to crack a joke even in his awful condition, and soon, no one in the room was sure whether they were laughing or crying or both as they looked around at each other. Relieved hysteria? His friends' voices sounded echo-ey, like Kyle was in a deep cavern, and his mouth still felt like molasses.

Stan helped Kyle into a sitting position while Kenny ripped open the backpack, and soon their friend was slowly munching his way through some sort of energy bar. Cartman had managed to remove his other ski and climbed across the pile to sit nearer to them, though he hadn't said much of anything – not even to gloat at being an accidental hero. Occasionally, he sniffled.

"Are you gonna be okay?" Stan asked Kyle softly as Kenny stood with the iPhone, moving the light around to check out the space they were in. It wasn't terribly big, just a square wooden hut with several benches and a small fireplace - er, firepit? - set into one wall. There were several small windows, but between the storm and the late hour, the light was scarce.

Kyle leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment, willing the dizziness to stop. "Short-term, yeah… got my… insulin kit in there…" He paused to catch his breath, not minding the way Stan was running his hand soothingly up and down Kyle's arm. It's... just right, just enough to calm my nerves… "And… enough mom-approved snacks… to last the night. Long-term…" Kyle opened his eyes to meet Stan's intent gaze, but the dizziness hadn't yet passed. "Ugh… long-term, this… isn't safe for any of us…"

"Better if we got some warmth?" Stan asked, trying to read Kyle's thoughts to save his friend the energy of giving in to his habit of over-explanation. When Kyle nodded slowly again, closing his eyes with a soft sigh, Stan motioned his friends over. "Hey, Kenny, is there wood for a fire?"

"Yep, there's a pile," Kenny pointed next to the fire pit. "But, ah, me and fire…"

Stan frowned, but nodded. "Sit with Kyle for me?"

"H-hey, Stan…" Cartman spoke up as his friends traded places. "I'll… help you."

The two boys stared at each other for a moment, but the scare with Kyle just now had both softened and hardened Stan in a new way. Deciding to take the offer at face value, he nodded sharply, then held out his hand to Kenny. "Lighter."

Cartman shuffled across the small room after Stan, vaguely unnerved by the silence between them. It was too eerily like that time his friends had fooled him into thinking he'd died by giving him the silent treatment. "Heh, you know… you could at least thank me for saving your boyfriend's life."

Stan stiffened a little, hesitating as he built a pyramid of kindling in the fire pit while Cartman kept the lighter going. It cast an odd, ghoulish glow over the round face when Stan looked up to meet his gaze.

"Thank you, Cartman," he said swiftly and with no trace of sarcasm. "Believe me when I say that I'm grateful for your gluttony today."

"Hey!" Cartman huffed, but paused when Stan cracked the hint of a steely glare, his knuckles going white around a twig before it snapped sharply in his hand. It was a look he never liked seeing on his usually genial friend's face.

"But if you ever lay an unwanted hand on Kyle again, I swear to Jesus that I will break every goddamn finger you have. Then your toes, and then-"

"Dude, dude, I get the point," Cartman cut him off hurriedly, waving both hands so hard he nearly set the pompom of his ridiculous hat on fire. "Hands off the Jew. I got it."

"Cool," Stan nodded and exhaled, going back to the fire and holding his hand out for the lighter. It always made him feel better to see Cartman squirm and he wasn't leaving room for anymore miscommunications. Not after his own level of dumb, not after… Stan glanced back over his shoulder at Kyle and felt a wave of relief pass over him. He didn't look exactly well yet, but he was certain Kenny would alert him if things took a turn for the worse again.

Kenny thought he had probably been a better choice for helping Kyle with his insulin than squeamish Stan anyway, and once it was done, he turned off the phone's flashlight and handed it back to Kyle, who slipped it into his pocket. Wrapping an arm around the redhead's shoulders, Kenny urged his head onto his shoulder. "Anything else I can do?"

"Need to stay awake," Kyle said softly, even though his eyes were closed. "Talk with me."

"Heh, about what?" Kenny mused, smiling when he saw the light in the room beginning to grow thanks to the small flicker of flames illuminating his friends.

"Last night suck for you too?"

Kenny winced – leave it to Kyle to score a direct hit even when he was only half as aware as usual, and still make sure to care about someone's feelings beside his own. It made Kenny feel his own forced-hollow that much more strongly. He wanted to flat-out lie to Kyle, simply reassure him that he was fine, that everything was going to be fine, but he couldn't find it in himself to spew the empty words that usually kept everyone at arm's length. "Fuck yeah," he finally settled on, surprised when Kyle vibrated a chuckle under his arm.

"Same here… Are you… mad at me?"

The words were breathy after the chuckle and only served to make Kenny feel even worse. He wondered idly why Kyle wasn't angry at all of them, instead."What? No! Where the hell would you get an idea like that from?"

"Mad at Stan?"

Kenny thought he knew where this was leading, but couldn't give Kyle anything other than a straight answer again. Somehow they'd always been able to drag truth out of each other. "No, not really… I mean, I think you've both been acting like progressively bigger and bigger idiots lately, but…" His lips quirked in a smile and he shuffled his hand over Kyle's ushanka as if to ruffle the curls he couldn't see. "That isn't anything new."

Kyle snickered softly and pushed himself up and off of Kenny's shoulder, piercing him with those eyes, emerald even in the dim lighting. "Mad at Cartman?"

Immediately glancing away, Kenny shrugged, then rummaged through his pockets for the one-hitter. He refused to meet Kyle's steady gaze as he fiddled with the small baggie, his hands shaking. Was he mad at Cartman? Fuck, he was nearly always mad at Cartman for his stupid antics, but weren't they all? Didn't they just put up with it, most of the time? "When am I not?" he finally muttered defensively, trying to put an end to the question as their two friends approached.

"Maybe a better question is… are you hurt?"

Kenny's head whipped up in surprise, hood sliding back, but he didn't have the chance to answer.

"Feel any better yet, Ky?" Stan sat down between them as Kenny shifted over, reaching to take Kyle's hand between his own two. He smiled a little when Kyle returned his squeeze and nodded.

Cartman shoved one of the benches aside so that he could sit down opposite his three friends and lean against it, and he couldn't resist rolling his eyes at the two, now that Kyle was safely out of danger. His stomach rumbled loudly and he huffed to emphasize it.

"Hey dude, can I have the lighter back?" Kenny asked, ignoring Cartman and reaching across Kyle to hold out his hand.

"Oh, yeah," Stan flipped it back to him, but most of his attention was still on Kyle and his nerves felt a little frayed. "I'm in."

The mood between them was vaguely uncomfortable now that the immediate trauma had passed, but Kenny grinned suddenly as he held up the one-hitter, unflappable as ever. "We found the smoking shack, dudes!" Flicking the lighter, he could hardly hold back his grin as he took a deep hit.

"Heh, we did," Cartman snickered a little, trying to help break the unease. "We're awesome."

Even Stan couldn't help but feel a tiny swell of pride, but then he looked immediately guilty about it. Their adventure had almost cost him his super best friend, and he wasn't about to forget that anytime soon. Ducking his head until all that could be seen was his pompom, he mumbled softly. "I'm… really sorry, Kyle."

Kyle's cheeks flushed slightly and he shook his head, trying to ignore the sudden fake-gagging sound coming from Cartman's direction. He reached to squeeze Stan's shoulder, waiting until the other boy met his eyes. Stan looked so sad that it made Kyle's heart clench tightly in his chest. There was more than one thing he was trying to apologize for, it seemed. Kyle knew he wasn't innocent in this whole mess either, but it seemed that Stan felt the same way he did – making up was the priority. "Dude, no – I know better, it's as much my fault as anyone else's, so please don't blame yourself. I'm… really sorry too. And… well… it is pretty sweet that we managed to find this place. Celebrate."

Smiling, Stan held out his hand for the one hitter, his gaze still focused only on Kyle, who was starting to look more like usual self. Maybe things could finally get back to… well, normal didn't seem like quite the right word after the events of the last few days. But as long as me and Kyle are still super best friends… "Celebrate with me?" Kenny had graciously already re-packed it for them, and Stan lifted it to his lips as he flicked the lighter gesturing between the two of them.

Kyle knew what Stan meant immediately, and he leaned in closer as he nodded, his hand slipping down to land comfortably on Stan's knee. The awkward uncertainty that had been between them for so long seemed to finally be fading away, leaving behind their familiar and trusting super best friendship… and something else. He couldn't help but let his eyes flutter shut as Stan's mouth closed over his, all soft lips and warm breath. Stan's knuckles brushed lightly against Kyle's jaw, his thumb tilting the redhead's chin until they were at the perfect angle. It suddenly felt so easy, this closeness… like in some way it's always been there, or grew out of what we already are…

They hovered together for a moment longer than necessary, closing into a light kiss before pulling away. Kyle smiled and Stan looked away, fiddling with the one hitter, but also smiling and then, sneaking a glance back at Kyle once more.

Across from them, Cartman's gagging turned into a choke of frustration. "My eyes are bleeding!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Fat Ass," Kenny snapped at him as he took the one-hitter back from Stan. "Why don't you quit acting like an asshole and just have a fucking smoke with us already?"

"Meh," Cartman muttered, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from them in over-dramatized disgust. "Fuckin' fags."

Unfortunately for Cartman, this behavior only gave Kenny's malicious side the opportunity to surface, ignited by the same old insults and everything that had happened in the last few days. As he finished taking the next hit, he dropped both items on the floor and rolled smoothly to his knees. Crossing the distance between them in two heartbeats, he grabbed Cartman's chin with one hand, the other landing hard on his shoulder. Turning his face until they were nose to nose, Kenny took the other boy's breath of surprise as an opportunity to seal their lips together and practically force the hit on him.

Cartman flailed under the unexpected onslaught, choking a little on the smoke, his hands finally settling one around Kenny's thin forearm and the other between them to push him away. "…the fuck, Kenny, what the fuck?" he spluttered. His head felt light and inflated like a balloon, but he couldn't be certain if it was the weed or the sudden extreme proximity of the other boy. "Get offa me, you goddamn fuckin' fag!"

Kenny went toppling backwards as Cartman shoved him again, but his expression was a pleased sort of malice as he leaned up on his elbows to survey him. "It was only a hit, Jesus! But you know what - you're just as much a 'fuckin' fag' as any of us, Eric, if you have to make the distinction. I think we all saw some fucking evidence of that just last night!"

"Shut the fuck up, you goddamn poor piece o' shit!"

"Kenny's right," Kyle added with a not-really-apologetic shrug. "What's the point in calling us that when the same applies to you? You can't seriously be that offended by me and Stan, or even by what Kenny just did…"

"Damn right I can be!" Cartman seethed, glaring from Kenny to Kyle and rubbing at his mouth with the back of one hand.

"What, do you think we're going to judge you?" Kyle couldn't help but rise to the occasion when it came to arguing with Cartman, even as Stan tried in vain to get him to calm down.

"Kyle, don't…"

"FUCK all of you guys!"

Stan rolled his eyes as Kyle made a noise of disgust, but Kenny… Kenny had finally fucking had it with Cartman. Rolling back onto his knees for the second time, he lunged at the other boy, grabbing him with both hands by his jacket collar and scarf and shaking him with a surprisingly vicious amount of force. "NO, FUCK YOU, ERIC!" he roared in his face, the gravel rising in his voice. "OWN UP TO YOUR SHIT FOR ONCE, YOU LITTLE FUCKING PRICK! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? WHAT KIND OF SICK FUCK TREATS HIS FRIENDS THIS WAY?"

It was a little too eerily like another fight they'd had, a number of years back, but Cartman didn't flinch, yelling right back as he tried to dislodge the small but furious blond. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!"

"LIKE HELL YOU DON'T!" Kenny withdrew for a moment to avoid being punched, on his hands and knees between his friends, breathing hard as he glared up at Cartman. "Go on, tell us you didn't take a sip from your cup that night at Stan's party! What does it take, then, if not one kiss? Two? Ten? A blow? A FUCK?"

"Dude, you guys, stop it!" Stan yelled at them in frustration, though he didn't move from Kyle's side. "He's never going to admit to it!"

Kyle wanted to slap a hand across his forehead as he listened to the brawl between his two friends. They were both completely missing the point, but at the same time, it felt as if this fight had been brewing in the background for a long time. "It's not a big deal, you guys! Gay, straight, bi -Labels are stupid! What's important is who you care about - haven't we learned that lesson, like, way too many times? And Cartman is always going to be an asshole! It doesn't have to be a big deal!"

"Not a big deal?" Cartman huffed, punching the floor. "Only a stupid Jew like you wouldn't care about adding to the ginger population!"

"…umm, w-what?" Stan blinked several times as they all turned to stare at Cartman in confusion.

Seeing that his friends were not making the connection, Cartman began one of his typical crass and inappropriate lectures. "Ginger! I am HALF! GINGER! – or have you fucking assholes forgotten this very important fact? I may not," And he ripped off his hat, tossing it down in front of him before pointing to his hair for emphasis "…have an ugly red fro and creepy freckles myself, but that gene… that disease… it rests within my body, waiting, quietly, cackling… " and here his voice became a high-pitched feminine wail "'Eric, I am waiting for you to impregnate a female~! Then I shall produce the most hideous and soulless gingerfreak demonspawn in the history of the universe!'

"He can't be serious…" Stan leaned in close to Kyle to whisper in his ear.

"…oh, I think he is."

"And I said unto that gene: 'No fucking way, bitch! NO FUCKING WAY! I will not be responsible for adding to the ginger PROBLEM, and so shall let no woman near my sacred place!' So yes, KAHL, KINNEH, HIPPIE – I HAVE TO BE A FAGGOT! I MUST BE A FAGGOT! A GODDAMN FUCKING FAGGOT!"

There was a long moment where the only sound was the crackling of the fire and Cartman's heaving breaths… and then everything began to… rumble.

"More thunder?" Kenny asked, jumping to his feet and moving to try and peer out of one of the small windows. He had no idea what to make of Cartman's tirade, how much of it was complete fucking nonsense, a defense mechanism, how much was perhaps truth thinly veiled… What the fuck is so damn hard about saying "I'm gay." anyway? Hadn't they already seen him in drag dancing like Britney Spears? This was not exactly… news, at least, to Kenny. But then again, he had the best gaydar or bi-dar or whatever you wanted to call it, of anyone he'd ever met. So… why am I so pissed off? He was, in fact, still shaking with the rage of their confrontation and therefore grateful for the distraction.

"Earthquake?" Stan asked in surprise, turning to Kyle for his thoughts as the sound continued, and grew louder. "There's… more rumbling noise than actual shaking?"

"No, that doesn't make sense…" It sounded now as if a freight train was approaching them, and the aural comparison caused Kyle's still clouded mind to suddenly snap sharply into focus. "No…no… it's… an avalanche…"

"A what?" Stan jumped to his feet, grabbing Kyle's arm to haul him up as well, but there was no time to think, no time to react – it was already upon them.

The little wooden shack creaked and groaned as the roar of sound blotted out their voices, and for a moment, Stan thought he was back in the soundless battlefield of Imaginationland during the terrorist attack. Kyle's mouth was moving, but Stan couldn't hear anything but the roaring, and the ringing in his ears, once the sound had ended. It felt like an eternity, but it had more than likely only been a few minutes.

"So exactly how fucked are we?" Kenny finally asked sarcastically, climbing to his feet again. "Kyle's diabetic thing not withstanding, of course."

Kyle offered a grim 'heh' in response before moving to join Kenny at the window. Is this for real? "Umm, well… that depends."

"I thought we'd be able to leave in the morning," Stan said, following Kyle to the window as realization and dismay and worry set in. "Dude, no one knows we're up here! We should call someone…"

Kyle cut Stan off with a slow shake of his head. "No, there isn't any reception here...I checked earlier…" The window they were standing beside had gone completely white, and the light of the phone's flashlight confirmed their worst suspicion – nothing but a layer of ice. "Check every single window," Kyle instructed his friends, turning in a circle before he placed what direction was what based on the door's location. "Maybe down slope…"

"Hey! Hey, this one," Stan said, calling them over with a wave of his hand. "The top half is still dark!"

"We're up against a hill, right?" Kyle mused rhetorically before continuing with his explanation. "The avalanche came from above us, but we had some natural shelter… and so we made natural shelter – the snow is less deep on this side."

"So we can break the window to get out?" Cartman asked, turning to fish in the edges of the firepit for a hunk of coal.

"Yes, but – but we can't leave right now. B-but fire also eats oxygen…"

Stan turned to look at Kyle, not liking the tone his voice had taken or the bothered expression on the Jew's face. H could read that look far too well and it did not mean good things. "Kyle, what's the catch? Forget the explanation, give me the punch line, damnit!"

"I'm worried we're going to run out of air!"

With a dramatic sigh, Stan pinched the bridge of his nose and shook a fist at the fourth wall. "This isn't funny anymore!"

"I'm breaking the window," Cartman announced, lobbing the hunk of coal straight at the glass in a surprisingly accurate arc.

"NOOO!" Stan, Kyle and Kenny yelled simultaneously, each reaching helplessly toward the window as the glass shattered, then shuddered, then split a hairline crack… Snow trickled in the corner of the broken window as a sharp wind whistled in around them. The avalanche might have ended, but the snowstorm was definitely still going full force. All three of the boys rounded on Cartman with equally incredulous and outraged stares.

"…oops?"

"Oh, great, genius, REALLY!" Kyle bellowed, turning on Cartman with fire in his eyes, his fists clenched at his sides. "That window could give at any second and bury us alive! Are you fucking STUPID?"

"S'better than ASPHYXIATION!"

"NOT REALLY!" Kyle huffed, then wobbled, all the fight going out of him in a dizzy wave. He didn't resist when Stan wrapped an arm around him, pulling him down to sit between his legs on the floor.

"Kyle, calm down, please!" he stressed. "I don't want you to pass out on us again! I don't want you to…"

"You're not going to die," Kenny finally snapped at all of them in irritation, already thinking he could predict how this would end. The same way it always fucking ended. "The window's probably going to hold because it's down slope, and thanks to Fat Ass, we have air. But if no one finds us by morning, I'll just kill myself and then send help, same as always!"

"Oh yeah, good one," Stan muttered darkly, fussing over Kyle again even as the redhead was trying to wave him off.

"That's not funny!" Cartman interjected suddenly, stumbling to his feet and taking the three steps towards Kenny far faster than he should have been able to. "That's not funny, Kenny! You can't do that!"

Kenny rolled his eyes, leaning against the wall of the shack as he folded his arms over his chest. "I can't die. You won't remember. It doesn't matter."

"What the hell are you talking about? This isn't the time for sick jokes!" Even Stan couldn't keep his patience with the situation anymore.

"No, Stan! I'm being serious – I really really can't die!" Kenny's eyes squeezed shut in frustration and he wondered if he shouldn't just kill himself now and avoid the continual Groundhog's Day-esque punishment. Just having this conversation again made him want to punch himself and he hadn't thought this trip could get much worse than last night's debacle. Despite how rocky things had been, Kenny had really been hoping it wouldn't end in death as usual… though it wouldn't be the first time he'd sacrificed himself for the benefit of his friends.

"W-what?"

"OH MY FUCKING GOD," Kenny turned and kicked the wall hard, chipping the wood with his snowboarding boot. "It happens all the time! All the goddamn time!"

Kyle was listening to this tirade in still brain-addled shock. Kenny can't die? It… sounded as if it ought to be one of Cartman's cracked-out ideas, it was so unbelievable and out of place… but it was Kenny who was now hunched over as if in pain, turned away from them, and Kyle didn't think he'd ever heard his usually happy-go-lucky potty-mouthed friend quite this upset. "…like… when?" he finally asked.

"Like two weeks ago! In the lunch room!" Kenny immediately recalled the most recent episode that they'd all been present for and rattled it off as quickly as possible. "Clyde spilled his lunch milk, Tweek slipped on it and knocked into Craig and I ended up with a fork impaled in my GODDAMN EYEBALL! Stan screamed OH MY GOD and you called him a BASTARD…"

Kyle shook his head, knowing how generally flawless his memory was, especially for people, events, and conversations. Is Kenny delusional or am I hallucinating or... "I… totally don't remember that, dude," he finally said, skeptical… and yet skeptical of his own skepticism at the same time. But why would Kenny lie, especially at a time like this? "And… you're still here."

"YOU ASSHOLES NEVER REMEMBER!"

"Kinneh…" Cartman said, though it came out more like a hiss of pain as he stood staring at the other boy, struggling for what to say. He knew what he should say, what he ought to do, but somehow, saying the words out loud made it real – too real. And there was a tiny little kernel of worry that if it was real, then the spell would be broken, and the next time would be for keeps – just like it had almost been for keeps once before. And Butters just wasn't Kenny, as he'd found out the hard way.

"…I think we would remember you dying, dude," Stan finally added, though his expression was now far more confused than angry. Even the hazards of their current situation seemed to fall aside in the wake of Kenny's meltdown, as the entire group had all but forgotten about the window, the storm and the avalanche.

"Well, you don't!" Kenny kicked the wall again, then a bench, then the wall, each time with a wail of frustration. "I die over and over – only to wake up in my bed like nothing happened! The next time I see you… it's like it never happened!"

"Then… maybe it didn't?" Stan offered, wincing when Kenny turned back to shoot him a look that was, instead of angry, just… desolate. It was like an arrow through the heart and for a moment, Stan found he was doubting himself instead of Kenny.

"There's never any point in telling you guys…" Kenny defended with a wave of one hand. "It's like, think of an episode of any crappy sci-fi or hell, Harry Butthole Pussy Potter – OBLIVIATE! – your mind's been erased! No matter how it happens or what I do, you. Will. NOT. REMEMBER! So it doesn't matter if I kill myself to get you out of here!" His expression softened into a grim smile. "Honestly, I'm glad for it – it's… the only thing I ever seem to do right."

"Kenny…" Kyle said gently, pushing Stan's protective arm off and climbing somewhat unsteadily to his feet. "Kenny…" he tried to find the words again, walking past Cartman's still shell-shocked expression to place a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. What if what Kenny's saying… is really true? What if he's been holding back all these years? After all, stranger things had happened in South Park. "Alright, dude… l-let's just say you're not crazy and it's true. What's the big deal?" He squeezed Kenny's shoulder as he spoke. "I mean, I think it'd be pretty cool not to be able to die!"

"Pretty cool?" Kenny pushed himself off the wall and turned to Kyle, who backed up a step in surprise at the intensity in those blue eyes. "Do you know what it feels like to be stabbed, to be shot, decapitated, torn apart, BURNED, RUN OVER?"

"Kenny!" Stan jumped to his feet to join what was now a circle of his friends, ready to put himself between them if he needed to. "Kenny, calm down!"

"It's NOT pretty cool, Kyle!" Kenny yelled, pointing at him. "It fucking hurts!" His voice broke on that word and he collapsed back against the wall, sinking to the floor and ducking his head so that his friends could not see the two fat tears rolling down his cheeks. When he spoke again, Mysterion's gravel was gone and only Kenny's sweet voice, raspy with emotion, was left. "It… never goes away… and no one ever believes me."

"I… believe you." All three pairs of eyes turned to face Cartman, and Kyle was about to tell him off for making an insensitive joke… until he saw the very real tears running freely down the round cheeks.

"Cartman?" the redhead said softly in genuine surprise, his intuition telling him that there was more going on here than he understood. Turning, he saw the same confusion as his own plastered across Stan's face and reached out to grab his hand, squeezing to speak without words.

Cartman ignored both Kyle and Stan and knelt down at Kenny's side, reaching out one hand hesitantly before pulling it back, uncertain whether or not to even touch him. "I believe you," he said again, more firmly, just in case Kenny hadn't heard him the first time.

Kenny sighed heavily, not even lifting his head, and his words were delivered in a defeated monotone. "You can say that, and even mean it, but as soon as I die, you won't even remember that we had this conversation. Or really," he punctuated this with a sarcastic chuckle. "How many times we've had this… sort… of conversation." Admittedly, no one had ever actually even taken him seriously before now.

This was it. This was the perfect opening. Cartman squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to picture the way Kenny had looked last night as he walked out of the kitchen… …the only people in your pitiful life who actually give a damn about you… and even more so, the way he had looked that day in the hospital… He had just watched Stan meltdown over nearly losing Kyle, and he already knew firsthand what it felt like to lose your best friend. Like Shit. He also knew what it felt like to have them only half-there, or fucking better yet, as only a voice inside your head. I… don't want to lose Kenny again. If there's even a small chance… Maybe this once he could give a damn… and actually mean it. "I… do remember, Kenny."

"Bullshit."

"I do!" Cartman insisted and this time, he shoved Kenny roughly to get more of a response out of him. "I do, goddamnit!" When Kenny still continued to sit there listlessly, Cartman wrung his hands, looking as if he was about to burst. What if this makes the magic stop and he dies for good? One voice asked him, and another replied. What if it means he won't die anymore? Normally, Cartman adored having all the power in his hands – there was little he enjoyed more than lording it over the peons – but this time… he wished that someone else could tell him which way to go. "H-how…" he started, a little nervous, and then he cleared his throat before continuing. "How about… that time you got flattened by the elevator, right before the Fingerbang concert?"

"What?" Stan interrupted. "That never happened."

Cartman turned on Stan with a dark glare. "Oh yeah, Hippie? Than what did happen? How'd it end up being you, me, Jew, Testicleburger and your asshole dad on stage at the mall?"

"That part is true…" Kyle spoke up, frowning as he tried to remember. "Kenny just… went home?"

"No!" Cartman yelled, turning back to Kenny, who had finally looked up with wide-eyed shock at Cartman's revelation. "Is that not enough?" he said loudly, unable to stop himself now that he'd gotten started. "You died from syphilis! You drowned in pee! You died on my goddamn rollercoaster, you stupid piece of shit! Your parents sued me!"

Kenny's eyes had gotten wider and wider as Cartman continued to rant, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt just yet. It was… just too damn good to be true… that for the first time ever, he might not be totally alone in this.

"You wanna know how far back I really remember, Kinneh? Huh, Kinneh?" Cartman shoved him again, angry tears still coursing down his cheeks. "You blew yourself up with a firecracker in kindergarten, you fuckin' bastard!"

As Stan and Kyle saw Kenny start to cry again in earnest, suddenly throwing himself at Cartman and hugging him hard, they found they could only watch, almost mesmerized by the scene unfolding. To Kyle, it felt like he'd… missed an episode of his own life somewhere along the way, the episode that actually made everything make sense. Because this? This really didn't make any sense, and yet, as he and Stan sat huddled on one of the benches with clasped hands and heads bent together, he couldn't help but be certain he was witnessing something quite out of the ordinary…

Cartman stopped speaking for a moment when Kenny tackled him, but slowly his arms crept around the other boy, hugging him tightly in return. Only Hippie and Jew are here to see it and I have so much dirt on them anyway. He whispered harshly into Kenny's ear, squeezing him just a little too tightly. "So, you see, Kinneh… you're not allowed to kill yourself."

Kenny's face was still buried in Cartman's shoulder as he tried to process what this revelation meant on too many levels. Why does he remember when they don't? Why has he never told me before? What does this mean? "Wait, what?" Kenny sniffed, letting go of Cartman to rub at his watery eyes, though they still sat knee to knee. "If you know that I can't die, then why the fuck do you care whether or not I kill myself?"

"Because I do!" Cartman snapped angrily, then turned to his friends. "Ahoy, I call for a vote – on the subject of Kenny's right to suicide - aye… or nay? And it better be fucking NAY, you motherfuckers!"

"What? No!" Kenny actually gasped, looking from Cartman to Kyle to Stan. Pirate voting was sacred and absolute and he couldn't believe that they would use it against him in such a way. "You can't do that! This isn't fair!"

Stan and Kyle turned to look at each other and shrugged, but the answer to this question, at least for the moment, was easy. Whether or not what Kenny was saying was true, no matter if they knew what the fuck was actually going on, neither of them wanted to see their best friend kill himself.

"NAY!"

"NAY!"

Cartman turned to look back at Kenny with a smug and self-satisfied smirk. "NAY!" he chirped, then immediately tried to change the subject. "It's settled!" He really didn't want to get into it with Kenny right now about what he'd been holding back, not until they were really alone, and he held the other boy's gaze as he spoke, hoping he would understand. "Now God Fucking Damnit, we're either going to die here together or get out together, but either way, can we at least not fucking do it on an empty fucking stomach?"

"Don't give the Fat Ass any snacks, Kyle," Kenny sneered in response to play along, understanding why Cartman was derailing the topic – the same reason he always deflected when people asked him 'where he'd been lately'. It was so so much easier than explaining, and the fact that he didn't even have to explain that… A look passed between the two boys and Kenny smirked a little – it was like they had their own little secret.

Or more like Kenny's lifelong secret was now a secret for two… like… he had an ally.

"Screw you, skinny ass poor boy," Cartman retorted with an exaggerated eyeroll and a light punch to Kenny's stomach.

Kyle was eyeing both of his friends warily, as if they'd turned into aliens or crab people or something, but he nudged Stan, who reached for the little black bag and handed it to him. "Umm… do I actually want to know what the hell just happened?"

Cartman and Kenny turned to shoot Kyle nearly identical expressions of exasperation. Nosy Jew. "NO!"

"Let's go sit by the fire where it's warmer," Stan shrugged in response, not even wanting to bother trying to decipher them. Nothing they had just said had really made any sense to him at all. He'd so given up on understanding Cartman's mind back when they were eight, and lately, Kenny wasn't much better.

"OH MY GOD, YOU GUYS!" Kyle suddenly shouted, causing all three of his friends to jump. He'd been rifling through the bag to see what snacks were in it, now that he was more coherent than earlier, and his hand had closed around a small, round piece of plastic. It was quite an important piece of plastic, and he would have beaten himself up more for forgetting about it if he hadn't known just how out of it he'd been for the last hour or two. "The homing device!"

"Huh?"

"What?"

Kyle smacked himself in the forehead as he yanked it out of the bag, dropping the snacks at his feet, and Stan rescued them before they could be swallowed by the black hole known as Cartman. "I am such an idiot!"

"Say that again," Cartman chortled as he made a swipe at the bag that Stan was now holding just out of his reach. Behind Cartman's head, Kenny grinned and waved his hands in the air, already realizing that Kyle had probably saved their asses.

"I am such…" Kyle started, ready to indulge Cartman's taunt because he was so irritated with himself.

"An idiot who's had a rough day thanks to his equally idiotic super best friend," Stan finished the sentence for him, jumping off the bench and tossing the black bag of snacks over Cartman's head quarterback-style to Kenny. "Go long!"

Kyle looked up from where he was fiddling with the buttons and smiled. "I'll consider myself forgiven, then," he answered cheekily. Hitting one more button, he held up the now blinking device and explained while Stan and Kenny continued to play Monkey in the Middle with their only source of food. "This device is linked to a program on Ike's computer. As soon as I activate it, it'll send him a message with our GPS coordinates."

"Then he can send help?" Stan asked, a wide grin splitting his face. We're not gonna die!

"Right," Kyle affirmed with a nod, slipping the little device into his jacket pocket. "Me activating it automatically tells Ike there's an emergency… though I doubt anyone will be able to search for us until the storm has passed…" Kyle trailed off and sighed heavily as he sat down next to the fire, unwinding his scarf and unzipping his jacket. "But of course, this probably means my parents are going to freak. I wouldn't put it past them to show up here-"

"Aww, seriously?" Stan groaned as he caught the bag of snacks again, sitting down beside Kyle in a huff. "I mean, bonus, we live, but… early end of vacation-"

"Fuck!" Kenny interrupted them, slapping a hand against his forehead. "Dude, we have to smoke all of the weed before the rescue team arrives – tell them we found this place accidentally!"

Stan nodded in agreement, opening the bag of snacks and inspecting the now somewhat-smashed goods. "Yeah, this place is supposed to be a secret or something… and I don't think we really want the Broflovskis finding out."

"You sound so disappointed," Kenny snickered as he sat down opposite of Stan, making sure he was far enough away from the fire to not end up burnt. "Hey Eric," he patted the spot next to him amicably. "If you smoke with us, we'll give you snacks."

Cartman made a face as he shuffled towards them, glad the topic had shifted. He felt somewhat awkward about what he'd revealed, but Kenny… Kenny seemed cool with him. Eh, what did he have to lose? They weren't going to die, so why not eat all the food and smoke all the weed and let everyone forget about the fact that he cried like a pansy emo pussy. "Fucking fine, whatever," he muttered, flopping down next to Kenny.

"I'll even roll a big, fat blunt," Kenny promised with a grin, totally thrilled at the prospect. "Then you won't even have to bother with the lighter." There was just enough light to see by now thanks to Stan's fire as Kenny pulled out his rolling papers and the baggie, and as he carefully rolled, he continued to explain, mostly for Cartman's benefit. "It's not that much different from a cigarette – suck harder, but not too hard – just watch me and Stan first."

Stan grinned and nodded at Kenny as he licked the edge to seal it before lighting the end – the first time they'd ever smoked together, they'd rolled a fat blunt, and it had been sweet. He inclined his head towards Kyle, who smiled and nodded, much to Stan's delight.

Kyle's reasoning was only 50% towards actually smoking… the other 50% was simply the chance to get close to Stan again. He didn't try to turn the pass into a kiss this time, but he let one hand reach up to curl around the back of Stan's neck, fingers threading in the dark hair peeking out of the bottom of his hat. Memory suddenly rushed by him and he remembered how he'd awoken earlier – to Stan kissing him repeatedly. The sensation in memory made his lips buzz now where they touched Stan's and Kyle was frustrated that his usually flawless memory was garbled because it felt suddenly and sharply like he had… missed something important.

Although he had watched both Kenny and Stan smoke the blunt, Cartman still managed to burn his fingers when it was his turn, and he nearly dropped it when the smoke gave him the worst coughing spell he'd ever had in his life. Still, every time he coughed, his head seemed to feel lighter and lighter, and by the time he snatched the bag of snacks away from a distracted Stan, he was grinning like a loon. Sweet and salty and no one's pissed off anymore…

Kenny grinned as he took a long, slow drag, watching his three friends while none of them were really paying attention to him. Stan and Kyle were having some sort of immature poking war because they simply couldn't keep their hands off of each other – which was really just typical Style behavior – and Cartman was quickly devouring the snacks like he had the worst case of the munchies ever – which was really just normal Cartman behavior. Kenny had wished fervently for a moment like this for the last two years, but of course, it would take dramatic life and death circumstances for his friends to actually chill the fuck out and get along. It's like… a great cinematic moment. "The only thing missing is a starry night sky," Kenny said wistfully and suddenly, taking an extra drag before finally holding it out to Stan again.

"Yeah, dude…" Stan breathed slowly, truly considering the thought, as he took a drag and turned to Kyle expectantly.

"Maybe we can try to bump up the scenery points next time," Kyle offered with a wry grin, which everyone seemed to share. "Come on, Stan, let me try it myself this time!"

"Are you feeling well enough?" Stan protested once he'd exhaled, half sincerely and half because he wanted the excuse to sorta-kiss Kyle again.

Kyle sighed in exasperation – though it's kinda cute that Stan is so worried about me – and held out his hand for the blunt. "I'm really, truly okay now," he defended, trying to mimic the way his friends had been holding it. "Honestly, my memory is starting to be less foggy about… stuff…" He trailed off to take a hit, trying to be slow with it and not choke himself like he had in the car last time. He was still a little bit embarrassed about his friends saving his ass, but, he was going to save theirs, in the end, so fair was fair, right?

"Duuuude… not just under a starry sky, but like, out on a lake or a beach, where there's so much horizon line," Kenny continued to ramble, leaning back on his elbows to look up at the dark, wooden ceiling, not hearing one word of what the rest of his friends were talking about. "Dude, Kyle, what was that bit about Under the Boardwalk earlier? Were you dreaming?"

"Er, what?" Kyle asked in confusion, reaching across their little circle to snatch the bag of snacks out of Cartman's hands before he ate them all.

"'EY!" Cartman made a grab for the bag, but with already one snack in each hand, he wasn't successful.

"Yeah," Stan added, pausing to think back on earlier in the night, despite how much doing so still bothered him a little. It had all happened so fast, even if in the moment, it had felt like an eternity. "Yeah, I think you did mumble something about the boardwalk…"

"I did?" Kyle pursed his lips, closing his eyes and trying to replay what he could remember of waking up. He'd been… surprised that Stan was kissing him, because in the car, it hadn't happened… Kyle's eyes shot open and he blushed sharply, trying to cover his thoughts. "I… I think, maybe… I was dreaming about the boardwalk?"

Kyle wasn't even paying attention when Cartman stole the snacks back, as Stan slid to sit knee to knee with him. Kenny took the end of the blunt and backed away from his friends a little, letting the show unfold as he leaned back against the wall with a lazy grin.

"You mean, last summer?" Stan asked, amused at Kyle's strong reaction to the question. "When we went to Wildwood?"

"Hmm… yeah," Kyle said softly with a nod, closing his eyes again. That's right… I was dreaming about the day we lost Ike, the day I bought the bracelets… probably because I'd just given one to Stan. He'd been dreaming about the car ride home - that had been the last thing he remembered before coming to…

Stan wanted to reach out and touch Kyle, but he could tell that his other half was deep in pensive!Kyle mode. Fidgeting a little, he glanced down at the bracelet on his wrist, turning it around to show the blue beads as he suddenly realized where he'd seen it before – in Wildwood. Looking up again at his super best friend, Stan suddenly desperately wanted to ask about the meaning behind it – he knew damn well with Kyle that there had to be a deeper meaning. And he was now pretty damn sure what he wanted that deeper meaning to be.

Kyle had been dreaming about the traffic light, about wanting to kiss Stan, about wanting to share his true feelings and ask the same in response… and he had woken up to Stan in tears, to Stan kissing him, to Stan yelling at him about super best friends and answers and listening and … Stan's voice played back in Kyle's mind as he relived the moment and then his heart stopped with realization. Green eyes drifted open to lock with worried blue as Kyle asked slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. "Stan… you… you said… you loved me?"

Stan had also been playing back the night in his own mind, reaching the same sentiment as if they were sharing one thought, and he smiled a little sheepishly. He hadn't meant to confess to Kyle in front of their friends, but in the moment of desperation, his true heart had poured right out of his mouth, despite his fears. "I… I guess I did."

"You mean love like…"

"…I do. Love-love." Stan took a deep breath, licked his lips, and said it again, just to make sure there could be no doubt. "I love you, Kyle."

The two super best friends stared at each other for a long moment as Kyle slowly reached over to take Stan's hand in his, twining their fingers together. This was it, the moment he'd been waiting for… It wasn't scenic or romantic or even alone, but it was… perfect, all the same. It was perfect because he was here and Stan was here, they were here together and… Stan loves me… and I… "I… I love you too, Stan. I… have for a really long time…"

Kyle choked up a little, his eyes tearing, but he didn't have the chance to finish his thought as Stan nearly climbed into his lap, grabbing the redhead's face between two hands and kissing him soundly before rasping sharply against his lips. "Me too, me too… Like this? Ky?"

Heat shot through Kyle at the forwardness and the tone the other boy's voice had taken as his hands curled around Stan's wrists, sliding down his arms to the elbow, then upwards and onto his shoulders. He'd touched his super best friend a million times, but suddenly it was all different, all new. "Staaan," he sighed in mock protest, licking his lips, flushed and unable to keep the happy grin off his face. "You're a perv."

A goofy smile split Stan's face and he leaned to pepper the side of Kyle's neck with suggestive feathery-light kisses. "You like it." He barely waited for the answering nod of confirmation before he kissed Kyle again, parting those willing lips with his tongue and exploring his super best friend's mouth with great and long overdue enthusiasm.

Kyle melted into the kiss, winding his arms around Stan's neck as the dark-haired boy took them down to the floor, neither even caring that Kenny was whistling at them now. They kissed again and again, Stan sucking on Kyle's bottom lip hard and running fingers down Kyle's side until he arched up, moaning into the other boy's mouth. "Stan…"

"Kyle…" Stan mumbled against the redhead's lips, withdrawing only long enough to look down at him with an expression bordering on adoration. Kyle had always been his very favorite person, for as long as he could remember, and suddenly he felt like everything in his whole life made a whole hell of a lot more sense.

The red and blue hat had been knocked aside and Kyle smiled warmly, threading both of his hands through Stan's dark hair to close the space between them, kissing him again. In fact, Kyle didn't even care at that moment if they were rescued at all – if he could only freeze time and stay right here, endlessly entwined his super best friend who-he-loved-and-who-loved-him-back, he would be the happiest Jew that ever lived.

Leaning over Cartman, Kenny dumped the end of the blunt into the fire to become ash, poking Cartman in the belly as he did so. He was really fucking wasted and really fucking happy, seeing his two best friends finally come together and stop being miserable about wanting to be together. Heh, they're obviously making up for some lost time now…

Cartman was pretending to be grossed out as Stan and Kyle continued to kiss and grope each other, seemingly oblivious to the presence of their friends, but in truth, he was actually a bit… relieved that things seemed to be... just the way he'd been planning on when this trip started. Mostly. He could get back on track, if they got out of here before too much longer. Cartman elbowed Kenny back, then scooted away from the fire and their friends when Kenny tried to low kick him in response.

They rolled around on the floor for awhile with their not-so-play-fighting, only coming to a stop as they realized that their friends were actually out cold. Laying on his side, Stan had Kyle pulled in against his chest, the Jew's head pillowed on his shoulder, their arms wound around each other as if they'd become one inseparable person. Kenny almost felt jealous, but he was in too good of a mood, and then Cartman was tugging him closer, whispering.

"C'mon, it's fucking cold - I know I'm warmer than your skinny ass."

Kenny let Cartman wrap an arm around him and yawned, thinking that Stan and Kyle probably had the right idea, as it was now some ungodly hour of the night. "You're kinda heavy to be a blanket," he mumbled, his eyelids drooping.

"Shut up, asshole," Cartman muttered, not sure why he was being so nice. Maybe he still felt the slightest bit bad about… stuff. Lifting one hand, he hesitantly brushed the messy blond hair out of Kenny's face. When he got no response or reaction, he leaned in closer, bumping their noses, hesitating again and swallowing hard before he pressed his lips against Kenny's softly.

"Eric…?" Kenny mumbled sleepily, but Cartman was now quickly placing little kisses in other less conspicuous places – his cheek, forehead, the tip of his nose – as if to cover what he'd really done. When he spoke again, his voice was raspy with emotion he rarely let anyone see.

"Hey, Kenny… remember when you were… in the hospital? Well…" He didn't wait for an answer as he pressed Kenny's face into his shoulder, whispering in his ear. "Well, Kenny… you're not just my best friend and I know this is gonna sound totally gay, but…"

"Yargafg…" Kenny's voice was terribly muffled, but years of listening to it made it easy for Cartman to understand. 'You are gay'.

"… you're my super best friend, Kenny." There was a long beat of silence before Cartman whispered again. "Kenny? …Kenny?" For a moment, he was worried, but then Kenny exhaled long and slow against Cartman's shoulder, sound asleep.

Not dead.

Just asleep.

Eric Cartman smiled.