South Park © Matt & Trey.
On Sunday Gerald takes Kyle to Tweek Bros to meet with Mr. Cotswolds and Rebecca. Rebecca begrudgingly hands the phone to Kyle, who is free to glance through her files and make sure the photo is gone. Kyle doesn't say a word the entire time, but Mr. Cotswolds apologizes over and over again for his daughter's inappropriate and borderline assaulting behaviour. Before parting ways, Gerald sternly informs the angry teenaged girl that if she made backups of the photo he'll be forced to take legal action. She gives a meek nod and says she understands. On the car ride home, Gerald turns to Kyle and says, "How do you feel?"
"Stupid," Kyle murmurs honestly, slumping in his seat. "Like some dumb whore."
Gerald sighs. "You need to be careful, son. This world is full of people who will use and abuse you."
"I get that now," Kyle whispers.
"What she did…" Gerald trails off and shakes his head, not liking the idea of his son having to face such humiliation at the hands of an immature ex.
"I know…" is all Kyle says. "Can I stay home tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Gerald nods, "but only tomorrow, all right? You can have a day to relax, but don't slack off with your schoolwork."
"I won't," the redhead promises, staring out the window and watching the farmland pass.
Come Monday, Kyle skips school in a sad attempt to avoid Rebecca, who will likely have a mouthful of angry words ready for him to hear. He spends the day doing absolutely nothing at all for the first time in a long time and it feels satisfying in one way but pathetic in another. Nonetheless, he sleeps in until 2PM and doesn't allow himself to feel guilty about it. He wakes up feeling refreshed and he puts off showering until 4PM. Around 5PM, Stan comes over. When Kyle greets him at the door he's smiling sympathetically.
"Kenny told you," Kyle says right away, reading Stan's expression before allowing the brunet in.
"Yeah," Stan confirms. "I pried. I'm really sorry… If I knew what she did that night I would've physically taken her phone from her and stole the memory card."
"It's all done now," Kyle says with a sigh. "I'm just glad my dad didn't have to see the photo."
"Yeah… that would've been hard to recover from."
They go upstairs and into Kyle's room. Stan flops onto the bed while Kyle sits at his desk and spins around in the chair. "So, anything interesting happen at school today?"
"Not a damn thing," Stan says. "Craig is pretty moody. I'm kind of worried he'll try to kill me or something."
"He wouldn't do that," Kyle laughs.
"He's not all there in the head," Stan shrugs, "so… he might."
"It'd be your own damn fault," Kyle reasons. "You played with him in a pretty mean way."
Stan groans. "I should've listened to you and Kenny instead of Cartman…"
"Yeah," Kyle agrees, "but you never listen to us."
"I'm dumb," Stan says.
"That's okay," the redhead laughs, not bothering to deny it. "Let's all just… try to be better people."
"Yeah," Stan agrees. "We'll probably get into a lot less trouble if we stop acting like little shits."
"Probably," Kyle nods. It's a lesson they've learned countless times, yet forget quickly.
"So, what do you think Craig is going to do to us… or more specifically me and Cartman?"
Kyle lets out a sigh. "I don't know, dude. Hopefully nothing serious because that could get dangerous."
Stan frowns. "I'm worried… I feel like I'm just waiting for something bad to happen."
"No shit," Kyle says. "You really shouldn't've messed with him."
"I know!" Stan shouts, throwing his hands up. "It was stupid of me, blah blah blah, I'm an idiot. We've already been over this."
Kyle raises his hands innocently, backing off. It's been like this between them. Kyle doesn't know if it's the conversations they've been having or if it's the sex. Either way, they'll need to talk about it soon enough.
"Have you renewed your prescription yet?" Stan asks after a brief silence.
"No," Kyle says.
"Shouldn't you?" Stan urges.
"Is that your business?" Kyle retorts.
Stan stares at Kyle, somewhat crestfallen. "Anyway," he murmurs. "I just wanted to see if you were okay… and you are… so I'm going home."
"Want me to walk you to the door?" the redhead offers.
"No, don't bother."
Across town, Jason kicks the crap out of Kenny. The following morning, Kenny takes the day off and sits in his room, afraid to go outside so soon. When he finally does ventures beyond the walls of his house, he's greeted with a potential repeat of last night's events.
Jason smiles smugly at him. "Hey, fag," he greets.
Kenny starts running his mouth before he can help it and he's in trouble yet again. Fast on his feet after a few hits, he loses Jason and makes his way down the main road. He arrives at Stan's house bloody and crying. Stan stares wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. "Come in…!" he nearly chokes on the words, ushering the blond inside. "What the fuck happened?"
"Got hit," Kenny says vaguely, wiping his nose as he slips out of his boots.
Sharon appears from the kitchen looking shocked and sympathetic. "Kenneth… are you all right?"
Kenny hurries to dry his eyes. "Ahaah…" he forces a laugh. "I'm totally fine, I'm just overreacting."
She frowns, not believing the blatant lie but she doesn't pry since it's not her business. "Take him upstairs and help him clean off," she says to her son, who simply nods in response.
Kenny follows him upstairs and into the bathroom, where the brunet gets out the first aid kit. "You got hit…" Stan mutters with a scoff. "No shit, Ken. What else happened? Who did it and why? Why would someone want to hurt you of all people? Everyone fucking loves you."
"Not everyone… Jason definitely doesn't love me," Kenny murmurs, sitting on the toilet seat while Stan hovers in front of him with rubbing alcohol.
"Tsk," Stan clicks his tongue. "That asshole!"
"My fault," Kenny admits. "I'm the one who started it."
"Why the hell do you do shit like this?" Stan murmurs the question.
"Because I'm nothing if I don't!" Kenny shouts.
"Don't' say shit like that…" the brunet tries to reason. "Every life means something."
"No," Kenny mutters distastefully. "I'm not smart like Kyle and I have no goals. I'm not going to do anything that's going to make a difference in the world. Out of bed, I have no talents. I have no determination. I'm so unmotivated it's hard to get out of bed most mornings. I put on this happy, careless face and nobody fucking notices that everything I say is a big fucking lie!" With each word, his voice grows louder and shakier.
Stan lets out a soft sigh. "You need to settle down with someone who will treat you right."
Kenny scoffs. "Where will I find someone with the patience of a saint?"
"C'mon," Stan reasons, "you're not that high maintenance."
"But you admit I'm high maintenance," Kenny notes.
"You are," the brunet admits, starting to clean the cuts on Kenny's face. "To deny it would be a lie… but it's okay. So am I. We all have flaws and things we need to work on."
Kenny cringes. "Stings…"
"I'm sorry," Stan murmurs, "but they need to be cleaned…"
"Thanks, Stan…" A pause. "Maybe this is what we get..." he murmurs. "Think about it... Kyle got fucked, I got fucked and you got fucked. The only one who didn't get fucked was Eric, but maybe his turn is next."
Stan frowns. "What are you on about?"
Kenny sighs impatiently. "This is what we get for messing with Craig! Kyle said it, too. I brushed him off, but maybe he's right."
Stan wrinkles his nose. "Kyle's punishment was Rebecca. Yours was Jason... What was mine, then?"
Kenny smiles bitterly. "Me and Kyle."
Stan frowns. "I don't really know if I can believe that," he says before changing the subject. "Are you going home tonight?"
"No," Kenny says. "I'm going to Eric's after… I just didn't want him to see me like this. He would get mad – not at me, just mad in general."
"He cares a lot about you, y'know," Stan says. "He tries not to show it, but we all know he cares."
"I know," Kenny smiles faintly. "Hey… Kyle might ask you out."
Stan snorts at that. "No, he won't. He's not into me like that. Plus, he's all freaky about how his parents are going to react if they found out he likes boy ass."
"You're his best friend," Kenny says.
"Yeah and I don't want him to feel like he needs to try dating me just so he won't lose me or anything… he won't lose me. He'll never lose me."
"I wish I could be that confident in my friendships," Kenny sighs.
Stan smiles faintly before deciding to ask the hard questions. "So, what exactly happened with Jason?"
"He saw me and decided to call me out," Kenny mutters. "I ran my mouth, he chased me around town and eventually caught me. I kneed him in the groin so he got pretty pissed off and beat the crap out of me… It was kind of scary. Usually I just laugh my way through his punches, but this time I couldn't… I thought he was going to fucking kill me. No one was around to stop him from going too far."
"What the fuck?" Stan deadpans. "It doesn't sound like you started it at all!"
"I ran my mouth," Kenny reiterates.
"So fucking what? You do that a lot and it hasn't gotten you into this kind of trouble. Besides, insults don't warrant violence."
"Jason has anger problems," the blond adds quietly.
"No shit," Stan shakes his head, putting a band aid over the scratches on Kenny's face. "Christ, was Jason wearing a ring or something?"
"I think," Kenny says. "I wish I was taller and stronger… Like Kyle. Then I'd beat Jason up… give 'im what 'e deserves. I bet it'd be pretty exhilarating."
Stan smiles somewhat piteously at the blond, ruffling his hair. "Come on," he says after putting away the first aid kit. "I'll take Dad's car and drive you to Eric's."
After Stan drops him off, Kenny rings Cartman's doorbell. Liane lets him in and smiles softly. "Dear, what happened?"
"Ran into a little trouble earlier," Kenny laughs good-naturedly.
"Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, thanks," he grins.
She simply nods, not questioning him any further. She knows it's not her place. "Eric is in his bedroom."
He thanks her before slipping off his boots and running upstairs. He swings open Cartman's door and announces his presence. "Hi! Your mom let me in."
Cartman is lying on is bed playing Nintendo DS. When he hears Kenny's voice, he turns the game off and sits up before turning to look at the blond. "What the fucking hell happened to you?" he immediately demands, outraged upon taking in the blond's messy appearance.
Kenny forces a weary smile. "I don't really want to talk about it. Stan cleaned my cuts. It's okay."
"Is it?"
"Yeah, I promise."
Cartman doesn't believe him. His eyes narrow and he reaches forward, grabbing Kenny's face and examining the damage. "Christ, you're fucked up…" he says in disbelief. "Who did this?" He unzips the blond's parka, taking it off and lifting the thin t-shirt up to reveal his bruised stomach.
"Stop…" Kenny murmurs weakly, but Cartman doesn't hear. He continues to inspect the damage – poking and prodding. "Stop!" Kenny repeats, raising his shaky voice. "Please…"
Cartman does so, raising an eyebrow at the blond. "So…?" he asks expectantly.
"So, what?"
"Talk," he demands.
"Jason…" Kenny murmurs the name. "He beat me up last night and this morning he did it again!"
"WHAT?" Cartman roars, visibly angered.
"Stop…" Kenny pleads, covering his ears. "You know I hate when people scream!"
"You scream all the fucking time, blondie," Cartman notes.
"I don't like being screamed at!" Kenny shouts, glassy eyed.
Cartman rolls his eyes. "Are you gonna fucking start crying?"
Kenny clicks his tongue. "Asshole," his voice breaks, "you're not supposed to ask that question when you see a person tearing up. It only makes them want to cry harder."
"Then do it," Cartman says. "Cry."
"You hate criers," Kenny whispers.
"It's fine," the chubby teenager insists with a sigh. "I'm telling you that you can cry."
Kenny closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a shuddery breath. When he opens them, he climbs into Cartman's bed and gets under the covers. Cartman gets in beside him and for a minute, they're both silent. Kenny starts crying a moment later and Cartman inches closer to him.
"I hate people," Kenny sobs, burying his face into Cartman's shoulder. "They're so mean…!"
"Yeah," Cartman agrees, patting him awkwardly. "People are shit and everyone wonders why I'm such a dick…" he scoffs. "It's because I understand people."
"So do I," Kenny says, muffling the words into the other teen's shirt.
"But you're too soft," Cartman mutters.
"Want me to toughen up?"
"Nah," Cartman admits, pulling the blond closer. "I like you just the way you are."
"So you can boss me around?"
"Maybe," Cartman says lightly before relenting, "Nah, I'm kidding around. The only reason I'm a dick to you is so you'll grow a backbone."
"Gee, thanks…"
"So, how do you feel?"
"Hm…" Kenny muses, lifting his head and staring at Cartman. "You know, I think that's the first time you've asked me that."
"Whatever," Cartman snorts, staring at his teary-eyed expression. He's a sadist, sure, but it's hard to find pleasure in seeing Kenny genuinely upset. "Answer the question."
"Safe," Kenny tells him.
"Safe?" the chubby teenager questions.
"Yeah, safe," Kenny says.
"I make you feel that way?" Cartman asks.
"Yeah," the blond smiles.
"Why?"
"You're strong," Kenny starts. "In your own way, you stick up for me."
"I don't –" he starts, but the blond cuts him off.
"Shut up," he laughs, "I know all, remember? So, don't bother trying to deny it in an attempt to look like the tough guy. I know you love me… Just like I know Stan and Kyle love me. But they also love each other. There's no room for me in there with them, huh?"
"No," Cartman says. "And why would you want to be there anyway? I doubt you want to get in the middle of that. It'd be like a Kosher and vegan sandwich. Gross."
"Stan was a vegetarian," Kenny corrects. "Emphasis on the was. He eats meat again now."
"Whatever," Cartman snorts. "Same gay shit to me… whiny and pretentious…"
"Of course," Kenny rolls his eyes.
"So, what about you, then?"
"Hm?"
"What do you want?" Cartman asks.
"What do I want…? What a question. I want lots of things. I want to wake up and feel alive in the strongest and most powerful sense of the word," he says. "I don't want to simply exist and roll with the punches. I want to enjoy my time here, however long it lasts because I don't know when I'll stop coming back."
"Don't talk about shit like that," Cartman mutters, knocking him on the head. "Christ."
"I want to feel good things," Kenny continues, "not just bad things."
"Since when?"
"Since now," the blond says simply. Of course, there are reasons for this. Perhaps he's learned from the mistakes he's made. Nonetheless, he doesn't explain and similarly he knows the other teenager won't pry.
"Then… we'll work on it," Cartman says.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Together?"
"Together."
"You know what you should do?" Cartman asks Kenny the following week.
"What?" Kenny questions the chunky brunet. The two boys are sitting on Cartman's bed – just sitting. And talking, but nothing more than that.
"Make a list of everyone who has hurt you," he starts. "Give the list to me and I'll kill them all for you since we all know you're too soft for it."
Kenny rolls his eyes. "Nice sentiment. I appreciate it… but wouldn't that just make me an accomplice? I don't want anything to do with killing people."
"But they're the ones killing you!" Cartman exclaims.
Kenny shrugs in response. "As you say, I'm too soft."
Cartman lets out a frustrated sigh, but he relents nonetheless. Truth be told, he didn't exactly expect the blond to go ahead and let him go on a homicidal killing spree.
"I need you," Kenny whispers suddenly. "You're the only person who understands me."
"I know," is all Cartman responds with.
"Pathetic, isn't it?" Kenny murmurs.
"What?" the chubby teenager asks.
"Me," the blond snorts. "I'm pathetic. Really fucking pathetic."
"Most of us are," Cartman offers, not bothering to deny it. He's not one for reassurance.
After classes, Tweek follows Craig home, much to the brunet's dismay and anger. Now they're arguing in the middle of the street.
"I love you," Tweek suddenly whispers and his voice breaks. He's pulling out the big guns now. Speaking of guns, Craig could pull out one of his own… but he doesn't. He keeps hesitating.
"No," he says coldly, not fazed by the confession. "Love is mutual and I don't love you, so what you feel doesn't matter." Tweek starts crying and Craig lets out a sound of irritation. "Tsk, don't fucking do that… crybabies piss me off."
"I d-didn't want t-to do it!" the blond sobs.
"Do what?" Craig asks wearily, trying to refrain from simply walking away. He ghosts his fingers across the gun in his pocket, debating whether or not to pull it out and point it. No… Not yet. Not here. Not like this.
"What Cartman made me do!"
"Then why the fuck did you do it if you didn't want to?" Craig snaps.
Tweek takes a deep and calm breath, trying to will the tears away but it hurts too much. "Blackmail," he murmurs.
"Oh, really?" Craig asks, not convinced. He releases a bitter, callous laugh and shakes his head.
"I swear!" Tweek shouts, desperate for the brunet to understand.
Craig crosses his arms, not believing a word of it. "That's a little too convenient, if you ask me. If you are telling the truth, you could have fucking told me what was happening. How the hell would Cartman have known? Christ. Now fuck off, okay?" He continues down the street. Tweek doesn't chase him.
Lucky for Kyle, Rebecca has been tactfully avoiding him. Stan wants to rub it in her face, but he won't. He knows Kyle would absolutely hate that. After school, the boys walk home. Cartman laughs boisterously at the expense of Kenny, chatting openly about their latest sexual endeavours.
"Oh, he's a pain slut," Cartman cackles before turning to the blond and smirking. "Ain't that right, Freckles?"
"Fun," the blond says, not denying that it's true.
Kyle rolls his eyes at the both of them, but he can't help but notice how many nicknames Cartman has for the smallest one in the group – Freckles, Princess, Kiddo… None of them are malicious. They're more endearing. He's sure Kenny likes it a lot more than he lets on.
"You love it, don't you, princess?" Cartman's smirk widens and he tosses an arm around him, giving him a noogie.
Kenny lets out a long whine until he's released. "Ow…"
"Tsk," Kyle clicks his tongue at them both.
"So, what's the plan?" the blond asks.
"Come over," Kyle requests.
"Just me?"
"Just you."
"Why?" Kenny tilts his head to the side in confusion.
"I want to tell my parents something and it'll be easier if you're there," he explains vaguely.
Stan frowns as he listens to their back and forth, but he doesn't ask any questions. Kyle will tell him when he's ready and whatever it is, he'll accept it.
When Kyle and Kenny part ways with Stan and Cartman, the questions come. "What will you do?" Kenny asks. "You had him. Now what?"
"I liked it," Kyle murmurs. "I mean… I don't know exactly what it means but I think I know what I want. That's something, right?"
"Of course," Kenny agrees.
Kyle feels anxious and his eyes keep glazing over. Bam. Just like that Kyle is no longer what everyone thought he was. Just like that Kyle is no longer what he thought he was. Will this change things? If so, how?
'God, I'm emotional lately,' he thinks to himself. Alongside Kenny, they walk up his driveway and open the front door. "Ma?" he immediately calls and his voice cracks.
Sheila exits the kitchen and enters the living room, giving her son a questioning look. "What is it, Bubby?"
"Where's Dad?" he asks. He kicks off his shoes and removes his coat. "I want to say something. I need to say it."
Sheila looks confused. "He's in his office…" she says slowly. "Kyle, what's this about?"
"I'll tell you when he's upstairs," he promises.
Sheila lets out a sigh and nears the basement door. "Gerald! Come up here!"
Kyle stands tense and awkward as he waits for his father to join them. Ike is sitting silently on a sofa, but Kyle doesn't mind. Ike never gives him a hard time. Now won't be any different. He's also hoping it might be easier having Ike there, in case his parents get mad. Ike is good at doing damage control.
When Gerald comes upstairs, he asks, "What is it, Sheila?"
"Kyle wants to tell us something," she says wearily, afraid he got himself into another mess.
Kyle wraps his arms around himself, feeling his eyes get glassy yet again. If he blinks even once, they'll begin to leak. He stands wide-eyed until he no longer can. He lets out a breath.
"Kyle…?" Sheila is frowning. "You're worrying us. Tell us what's wrong. We won't be mad. I'm sure it can be fixed."
"That's just the thing," he says, wiping his eyes before wringing his hands together. "This can't be fixed… I don't want it to be fixed, even if it could be."
"Well, what is it?"
"I want to be with someone," Kyle tells them, "but… I want your approval."
"Who is it?" Gerald asks with a frown.
Kenny is frowning as well because he knows exactly where the conversation is headed. Kyle is going to tell his parents about the less than heterosexual things he's been feeling. He knows ahead of time that Kyle isn't going to get the answer he wants. They might not shut him down, but they won't smile and tell him it'll be all right either.
"Stan," Kyle reveals.
Sheila's jaw drops while Gerald stares wide eyed at his son. "You… You're gay? Stan is gay?"
"I don't know what I am," Kyle whispers, not yet wanting to put a label on whatever it is he's feeling.
From the sofa, Ike lets out a little laugh. "I knew this day would come."
After that, it's silent for what feels like a long time to Kyle. Eventually, Sheila lets out a disappointed sigh. "Is this a phase?" she asks.
"No," Kyle says firmly.
She glances at her husband before looking back at her son. "Me and your father need to talk about this," she says.
Kyle simply nods. He watches them both go upstairs. He can hear the faint sounds of their voices, but he can't make out what they're saying. For that, he's almost glad. He's sure it would only make him feel worse about all of this.
He sits down next to Ike and bends over, pushing his face into his hands before letting out a miserable sound. As Kenny rubs Kyle's back, Ike puts a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sorry," he offers. "It shouldn't be this hard, should it? It's not really fair."
Kyle sniffs and rubs his hands down his face before sitting up. "It's fine. It needed to be said."
"Do you feel any relief?" Ike asks.
"No," Kyle murmurs.
"You will," the young Canadian promises. "Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow or next week or next month even… but someday you'll be glad you said it. Imagine what it must be like to live life suppressing yourself and ignoring who you are? It's not healthy. So, you're right. You needed to say this. You needed to let them know. And even if they don't give you and Stan their blessing, you've got mine. Seriously, bro. Go for it."
Kyle lets out a forced chuckle. "Thanks," he says. "That's actually kind of nice to hear."
Ike smiles at him. "Sure thing, Kyle."
Kenny hugs Kyle from the side. "Ike is right. Everything will get better."
Kyle simply nods, desperately wanting to believe it.
After school the following day, Kyle decides to try and get the words out again – this time, to Stan. He beats around the bush and when he finally does get the words out, he doesn't get the reaction he expected.
"We're friends, right?" Stan asks, not quite able to believe Kyle wants more than that.
"After all we've been through… you're trynna friend-zone me?" Kyle asks lightly.
Stan smiles somewhat cynically. "There's no such thing as the friend-zone, dork," he says.
"I know, I know," Kyle says. "I was kidding. Guys whining about being friend-zoned are basically admitting they were only being nice for the sake of getting into someone's pants and shifting the blame away from themselves. Right?"
"Right," Stan says with a slow nod before adding, "Wendy taught me that…"
"Same," the redhead admits. "Anyway," he starts again, wanting to change the subject back towards their potential romantic entanglement. "Go out with me. For real this time."
"What about your parents?" he asks, knowing this is the reason for Kyle's hesitance.
"I told them I want to be with you," he admits. "They… They didn't take it all that well, but they said that would talk about it with each other."
"Wow," Stan whispers, surprised Kyle found it in himself to say what he wanted for once. He smiles and says, "I'm glad."
"So…?" Kyle urges.
Stan's smile widens. "Yeah, let's go out."
Red, Clyde and Craig are all sitting on Craig's bed. Clyde brought the girl over in a hopeful attempt that she might be able to bring a smile out of the stoic teenager. So far, nothing. His eyes move around the room awkwardly avoiding Craig's judgemental and very knowing gaze. He spots a package of jumbo bandages on Craig's nightstand and asks, "What are those for?"
"My stomach," Craig states flatly.
"I thought your stomach was healing?" Clyde asks quietly.
"Not anymore," Craig snorts. "It's all wrecked again."
"Tsk…" Clyde clicks his tongue.
Red frowns in fearful confusion, but remains silent.
"So, how goes the battle to woo Bebe?" Craig asks, just for the sake of changing the subject. He knows that this is a topic Clyde enjoys.
"Not great," he admits.
"Y'know," Craig murmurs, "if you guys did get together, she'd just want to put things in your asshole."
Clyde looks thoughtful for a moment before relenting and admitting, "Fuck it, I'd let her… and I'd probably enjoy it, too."
Craig snorts at that and Red smiles perversely. "Bebe is pretty into that," she adds. "She's not into vanilla sex. In fact, she hates it."
Clyde lets out a forlorn sigh. "I wouldn't mind."
Red chuckles at that. "Think she knows?"
"The entire fucking world knows," Craig answers surely.
"That's not true," Clyde protests. He pulls his phone out to check the time. "But speaking of Bebe, I'm meeting her in a bit, so I should head out."
"Oh, hot date?" Craig taunts.
"Hardly," Clyde whines. "Just coffee." He sits up, waving to Craig and Red before letting himself out. After that, it's silent.
"Hey," Red murmurs once Clyde is gone. "What was he talking about just now?"
"What?" Craig asks.
"About your stomach…" she mentions slowly. "What happened to it?"
"Don't pretend that you don't know," he says with a weary sigh. "I bet Clyde told you all about it, didn't he? Fuck knows he can't keep a secret worth shit."
"No," she looks taken aback. "He didn't tell me anything… You don't give him as much credit as he deserves, Craig. He wouldn't betray your trust if it was something you didn't want him talking to people about."
Craig scoffs lightly. "I'm just your stereotypical cutter."
"Cutter…" Red repeats slowly.
Craig lifts up the edge of his shirt, revealing an array of bandaged wounds and old scars. He covers himself a brief moment later and Red frowns, but for a long time, she says nothing. "Well…?" Craig urges, hating the silence.
"I never knew," she whispers.
"Well, now you do," he says, lying backwards and letting his head hit a pillow.
She follows his lead, lying down next to him. She shifts closer, putting an arm around him. "It's fine," she says softly. "I still love you all the same."
"Hm," Craig mumbles. "How quaint." He won't say it back. Not now, not ever.
"You don't need to hide, you know," she adds. "You should have more trust in people. It hurts to keep secrets."
"People always betray my trust," Craig mutters.
"What do you mean?" she pries.
"Turns out I'm a fucking fag," he tells her.
"I thought so," she admits. "I mean… I had a feeling."
He lets out a sigh. "I was seeing someone… but it all got thrown in my face."
"People can be really cruel," she says sympathetically. "Try not to let it jade you."
"Too late," he murmurs. "I hate people now more than ever."
When Bebe spots Stan and Kyle in the hallway the following morning, she decides to call them out. She approaches them with a look of determination. "I have a bone to pick with you guys," the girl starts. "I've wanted to say this for a while, I just kept stopping myself. I didn't know if it was any of my business… but I don't care. I need to say it."
"What is this about?" Kyle asks, crossing his arms defensively.
"Kenny," she says.
Kyle lets out a long sigh. "I know where this is going."
"He's your friend!" Bebe shouts, voice wavering. "Why aren't any of you trying harder to protect him?"
"From what?" Stan asks stupidly.
"From men!" Bebe starts. "From himself! He needs you guys! He needs his friends! You can't just abandon him when he gets like this. He needs your support. He needs your patience."
"You don't get it," Kyle murmurs. "He won't let us help. We tried and tried… and nothing happened. Now we don't try anymore. It's better this way. He doesn't get as angry if we let him do what he wants."
She shakes her head, giving the two boys a look of disapproval. "You're being lazy, like you can't be bothered to help him because it takes more work than you're willing to give."
"That's not it!" Kyle snaps at her. "Stop acting like you know everything that goes on with us!"
She lets out a scoff. "Kyle, he talks to me. A lot."
"Then you must know how he feels," Kyle says calmly.
"I don't understand it," she whispers, relenting. "Why does he surround himself with awful people… people like Cartman."
Kyle shrugs lightly. "He loves Cartman… for some fucked up reason."
"He loves all of you," she murmurs.
"And we love him," Kyle finishes the thought. "I know it's wrong… but I'd rather see Kenny with Cartman than with any other guy he's fucked around with. At least Cartman cares about him in return, though he has a fucked up way of showing it. He'd never truly hurt Kenny."
"He's abusive," Bebe grits out.
"Yeah, he's a bad person," Kyle agrees. "Kenny deserves better, but he'll never let himself have better."
"Just don't forget about him," Bebe says pleadingly. "Even when you're gone to university… even if you leave this town… Just don't forget him. We're getting older. I know life gets in the way of old friends, but try to keep him in the front of your mind. Stay in touch with him no matter where you are."
"We won't forget him…" Kyle promises slowly.
"We won't," Stan agrees. "We couldn't."
She simply nods, walking away. Stan and Kyle share a look. They try to shrug it off but they can't help but take what Bebe said to heart.
They're getting older. Soon, their teenage years will be long gone. Then where will they be? Will they still be in South Park, or will they have all moved on? Will they still be friends? It's hard to say. It's hard to promise someone forever.
When Cartman checks his facebook later on in the night, he is unpleasantly surprised to see a message from Bebe Stevens. He sighs audibly. "What the hell does that bitch want?"
BEBE STEVENS: Can we talk?
ERIC CARTMAN: Depends. About what?
BEBE STEVENS: Be good to Kenny, okay?
ERIC CARTMAN: I treat him just fine, not that it's your business.
BEBE STEVENS: He's my friend. I have his best interests in mind and I want him to be happy.
ERIC CARTMAN: Chill, broad.
BEBE STEVENS: Asshole, be serious for a minute. I know you're hardly capable of caring about people, but at least try!
ERIC CARTMAN: You're thinking about Craig Tucker. He's the one who doesn't care, not me.
BEBE STEVENS: So you admit you care about Kenny?
ERIC CARTMAN: Is that what this is? You want me to admit I care about him? Why? What exactly will that solve?
BEBE STEVENS: Because if you care about him at least a little bit then you'll be able to understand that he's in pain. He's unhappy.
ERIC CARTMAN: Chill. He isn't gonna kill himself.
BEBE STEVENS: But sometimes I think he wants to and that's just as bad.
Cartman rubs his temples, trying not to let his temper rise. Why should he get angry? None of this is his damn fault. He can't control the way Kenny feels or acts. It has nothing to do with him… right? When he doesn't answer, Bebe continues to type.
BEBE STEVENS: As his friend, you need to guide him. You need to help him see he deserves the best.
ERIC CARTMAN: Why is this my responsibility?
BEBE STEVENS: You're his friend! Stop insulting him. Stop treating him like a toy. Stop being a fucking awful, evil person. If you don't, you'll ruin him. How would you feel if he was gone? Whether or not he's dead… there are other ways a person can be gone.
ERIC CARTMAN: He's not made of glass.
BEBE STEVENS: Yes, he is. We all are. Even Craig.
ERIC CARTMAN: Now we have to talk about that freak?
BEBE STEVENS: Kenny told me what happened. You've wronged a lot of people. You need to make amends.
ERIC CARTMAN: Holy hell, shut up. Go suck a dick and get out of my hair.
He shuts his laptop after that and crawls into bed. He tries not to mull over Bebe's words, but they're now stuck in the front of his mind.
When Bebe sees that Cartman is logged off, she doesn't bother responding to his insult. She sighs, hoping he'll at least take her words to heart. When she's about to turn in for the night, she pauses when another message pops up.
CLYDE DONOVAN: Hey
She smiles to herself.
BEBE STEVENS: Hey, what are you doing up so late?
CLYDE DONOVAN: I've been on the phone with Craig for most of the night.
BEBE STEVENS: Is he okay? Kenny told me what went down.
CLYDE DONOVAN: He's acting like he's okay now but he flipped out a little while ago.
BEBE STEVENS: Hopefully he doesn't hurt himself.
CLYDE DONOVAN: Yeah…
BEBE STEVENS: You're a good friend. I'm sure he's grateful to have you around.
CLYDE DONOVAN: Haha sometimes maybe.
BEBE STEVENS: I'm glad that the fighting stopped.
CLYDE DONOVAN: Me too tbh.
Their conversation continues throughout the night, neither of them noticing as the hours go by.