"This clown," said Bebe, "was taking a midnight stroll out by the forest. Wanna know why? Me too." She grabbed Kenny roughly by the arm and thrust him forward. "Go ahead, tell him your excuse. It reeks so much of bullshit, I nearly puked."

Kenny looked at Stan, his eyes searching warily. Stan felt a rush of power. With a word he could save Kenny or condemn him. For all Kenny knew, he already had. He noticed that Kenny wore the dirty jacket of one of the killed zombies, the sleeves fitted perfectly around his wrists. No hint of blood showing through, very clever. It was Bebe's cajoling that had brought him back so soon, too soon to really think up a story.

Bebe was waiting with crossed arms. Kenny swallowed dryly.

"I was looking for flowers. For Ike. Thought I'd celebrate with him the day his brother decided not to be a dick anymore."

Bebe scoffed. "See? This is the kind of bullshit I put up with."

Stan thought for a moment. This was it; he could spill Kenny's secret or save his skin. Anger welled up when he thought of what Kenny had told him, but a nagging voice prodded him. He was only twelve.

"I believe him."

"What?" The question came from two different voices, one in dry disbelief, the other pure shock.

Stan couldn't help it; he looked right at Kenny, unblinking. "I believe you."

Kenny's mouth opened slightly, then pressed tightly shut.

Stan continued. "The others, they don't have any reason to believe…anything otherwise. So I don't know where you get off calling him a liar, Bebe."

Kenny's head lifted, blue eyes shining up at Stan. Bebe was standing behind him; she couldn't possibly see the overwhelming gratitude that poured out of him.

"What the fuck, Marsh?" Bebe hissed.

Stan shrugged. "I don't see why Kenny would lie."

Suddenly Bebe was nose to nose with him, moving so quickly that he flinched away. Her lips formed poisonous words.

"So now it's Boys Club, is that it? Or maybe you're actually just that stupid. And to think I was actually starting to like you."

Her eyes narrowed, and for a second Stan was afraid she was going to spit on him. But she whisked away, blonde curls bouncing furiously as she disappeared into the sleeping room, slamming the door so hard that Kyle twitched despite his deep sleep.

That left Kenny standing in the middle of the room, speechless. His eyes searched Stan.

"I didn't tell anyone," said Stan quietly. He glanced at Kyle, who was still deeply unconscious.

Kenny nodded. He brushed a tired hand through his hair. Took a breath.

"I-uh…I owe you one, then. Thanks."

Stan felt weird, something crawling up his throat. "It wasn't my secret to share."

Kenny coughed. "Right."

"I'm still angry."

"I figured."

"Nice jacket."

Kenny looked down as though he had forgotten he was wearing it. "Oh, yeah. I needed to cover the...ah…"

Stan remembered the bite, how brutally deep it was. "How did you stop the bleeding?"

"I just tore up a zombie's shirt and wrapped it around my arm."

Stan grimaced. "Dude, that's not sanitary."

"Well, I'm immune," said Kenny, waving his arm to prove the point.

"Yeah, you are," said Stan, gesturing for Kenny to take the jacket off. "But the others aren't. Unless everyone's been lying to me. I don't know how this works, but you could be carrying, man."

Kenny paused. "I-didn't think of that."

"Of course you didn't."

The words were as good as a slap. Kenny was silent as he shrugged out of the jacket and unwound the deeply stained shirt. Dried blood crusted over the bite, a pale liquid still oozing steadily from beneath. It didn't look infected, but better safe than sorry, Stan figured.

Stan picked up the whiskey bottle, still resting beside the couch. Seeing the dark liquid sloshing inside, Kenny cringed. But he allowed Stan take his arm, lifting the hem of his shirt and balling it into his mouth. A muffled moan escaped Kenny and his ground his teeth into the fabric, screwing his eyes upwards as Stan carefully dampened a fresh rag with the precious liquid and pressed it to the wound. Clearly resisting the urge to yank his arm back, Kenny's cloth-filled mouth twitched.

Stan cleared his throat.

"I-uh-shouldn't have left you in the woods."

Kenny looked up.

"I…" Stan continued, "I might have….over-reacted. When you didn't come home right away…"

Stan withdrew the rag, satisfied with the cleaning. Kenny spat out his shirt hastily.

"No, no dude," said Kenny as Stan wound a fresh rag over the clean bite. "You were right to be mad, I was wrong. I should have told you." He looked mournful. "I should have told them."

"Yes, you should have." The words slipped out, but Stan scrambled to complete the thought, "But you were a kid. You were scared of getting kicked out of you group. Kids do stupid stuff when they're scared, I've done things I'm not proud of."

"No kidding?"

"Yeah, well, nobody's perfect."

Kenny cracked a small smile.

"So…are we cool?"

"Yeah." The word felt good to say. "But no more secrets."

"No more secrets," Kenny agreed.

"So then, I need to ask you something."

"Shoot."

"Well," said Stan slowly. "Tweak seems pretty freaked out by you."

"Tweak's freaked out by everything."

"Well, yeah. But you especially. He called you a monster. He said you wanted to eat him." Stan said the words plainly, explicitly including the more gruesome details to gauge Kenny's reaction.

Kenny cringed, looking highly uncomfortable. "I…I think he saw me get bit. Or he saw the bite, I'm not sure. His…issue with me started right after it happened, so that's always kinda what I assumed."

Then he paused. "When I was missing…did you worry?"

Stan cocked a brow. "Dude, yeah. Of course I did. I almost went after you myself, but Bebe wouldn't let me."

Kenny laughed lightly. "When she found me in the forest, she gripped me by the collar and yanked me up so hard I almost blacked out again. Thought it was the icy hands of Death come to take my soul. Too bad Death doesn't wear lipstick."

Stan shrugged. He motioned to Kyle. "He wanted to wait up for you."

"Sure didn't push himself too hard."

"Yeah, well, there's only so much excitement a person can take in a day."

Kenny blew playfully on Kyle's face, grinning when the sleeping boy's nose crinkled. "We should move him to the beds, the couches suck."

"Right."

Together, with Stan hitching beneath Kyle's armpits and Kenny holding his knees, they lifted Kyle gently from the stiff cushions. The kid was so tall and gangly, limbs everywhere, impossibly awkward to carry, but they managed. Even with Stan's hand constantly slipping from Kyle's armless side, they stumbled and cursed their way to the door. Stan remembered how cramped the room was between all the beds, wondering how on Earth they were going to get settled.

Eventually they worked it out. Kenny's designated mattress was close to the door, right up beside Craig's. Stan noticed that the girls slept against the far wall, and Cartman had his own metal bunk in the corner that no one really slept around. Stan could hear why, Cartman's snores rumbled enough to mimic an earthquake. Kyle's bed was over by Ike's, but to get there they'd have to step over Tweak, who was already mumbling nonsensically under his breath. Stan remembered Butters' offer, but after taking a look, he guessed Butters forgot. The skinny boy was sprawled every which way, his hollowed face youthful in sleep. Stan could hardly see the sharp, angry angles of the boy who'd first pointed a gun at him. That boy had looked more like a Leopold.

Kenny's mattress was the size of a twin, it was a tight squeeze. They set Kyle down first, quietly as possible as to not disturb the others. Nestled right up to Craig, who was still as a rock in sleep. There was only a slim spot left next to the wall, which was padded by a blanket. Kenny lay down, pencil straight, and motioned for Stan to join him. Carefully, trying not to step on anyone, Stan lowered himself next to the wall. It was impossible to shrug away from Kenny, he was so close. But the bedding was soft, far softer than anything he was used to. And Kenny was warm.

Wriggling, Kenny turned over and threw an arm lazily across Stan's chest.

"D'you mind? 's comfier."

"Nah," The weight was nice, made him feel safer.

"Mm, cool…"

Kenny trailed off, and Stan realized he was already asleep. He was envious. Sleep didn't come naturally to Stan, he had to grab it and choke it into submission before any sort of peace swept over him. So many bad things could happen while you slept. It was vulnerability, and he didn't like it.

But being in this warm room full of softly breathing bodies, Stan felt calm. It reminded him of lions in a den. Safe and warm and almost

almost

Like home

Kenny's arm tightened around Stan, and he wondered if Kenny had ever slept with a teddy bear when he was little. He suddenly remembered his own stuffed animal, a ratty dog named 'Bur', so named since Stan couldn't say 'bark' when he was three. Strange, he hadn't thought about Bur since Sparky came along. The real thing was always better, right? That dog had been the highlight of his childhood.

Bur was even further back. Bur was the sensation of soft blankets and warm milk, pastel walls surrounding a white, fluffy comforter. The images came fuzzily, tickling his brain.

Stan missed Bur. It was one of the quietest longings he'd ever felt, and it lulled him into sleep.

Morning came too quickly, and Stan groggily tried to rub his eyes. When he moved his arms, he found they were bound by something. He turned his head and found himself nose to nose with Kenny. No one else was in the room, but Kenny was cozied right up to Stan, cuddling him with a steel grip. Even Kyle was already up, which surprised Stan. He'd seemed so drained last night.

Wriggling, Stan nudged Kenny with his shoulder.

"Hey, hey dude. Wake up."

Eyes crinkling, Kenny drew closer, pressing his forehead into Stan's shoulder.

Pulling an arm free, Stan knocked at the back of Kenny's head.

"Dude, everyone's up."

Swatting blindly at the intrusion, Kenny sighed into Stan's collar. He rolled onto his back and rubbed across his face.

"…I feel like shit…"

"Yeah, well." Stan propped himself up, easing into consciousness. A yawn split across his face.

"I didn't kick you or anything, did I?"

"Nah."

"Cool." Thrusting his arms out, Kenny cracked his back and clambered to his feet. "I guess we should go. Raid's today."

Stan immediately straightened up, the word sending an electric zing up his spine. "Right."

There was active conversation in the common room, everyone buzzing with energy. Before he had time to get his bearings, Butters shoved a bowl of onion broth into Stan's hands.

"Hey, you're up! Eat something, you've got a lot to catch up on."

"Oh, thanks." Stan sipped the hot broth, surprisingly refreshing on his tongue, though it probably did nothing for his morning breath. He slipped over to Kyle, who was sipping his soup one-handed and talking to Ike with a serious expression.

"…and don't be the hero. Stick to your job, and everything will be fine. And remember your knife."

"I know, I know." Ike rolled his eyes with all the sass of an almost-thirteen year old. When he saw Stan, his face lit up. "Stan! How'd you sleep?"

Stan grinned. "Fine. What are we talking about?"

"The raid," said Kyle. "Ike, could you help Leo clean up breakfast?"

Letting out a long-winded sigh, Ike slumped his shoulders. "Okay."

Once he was out of earshot, Kyle leaned closer to Stan. "I want you to keep an eye on Ike. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

Stan frowned. "Kyle, the kid doesn't need a babysitter."

"I know. I'm not asking that you coddle him, I just want you to watch him. Tell me how he does. God, I wish I could go."

The longing in Kyle's voice was hard to listen to. "I bet," said Stan. "It'll be fine. I saw the kid, he's got good instincts."

"He'd better."

After that, Kyle rounded everyone up and they reviewed the plan. Stan noticed with increasing uneasiness the fearful way Tweak's eyes darted over to Kenny, back and forth, like he was trying to look at the sun. Craig kept a firm hand on Tweak's shoulder, which comforted Stan. As long as Craig was around, he wasn't too worried about any potential outbursts.

Everyone began gearing up. Lo and behold, the old steel baseball sat Stan had held so dearly was waiting for him in a pile of empty guns. He picked it up immediately, relishing in the familiar smooth grip, testing the weight. Oh, he'd missed this. Bebe twirled a gleaming dagger with surprising daintiness, her ruby grin making her an outlaw from the old west. Craig was busy fitting Tweak in a leather jacket and switchblade, the world's most nervous greaser. Stan was relieved to see that Tweak would not be carrying a gun. Kenny was sizing up between two large hunting knives, and Red slipped a wrench into her belt after taking the precious shotgun. And Ike, poor Ike, was confused as all hell. He picked up a bow, put it back, looked around nervously, picked up a screwdriver, furrowed his brow, put it back. Stan felt sorry for the kid, but couldn't help being slightly amused as well.

"Hey kid," he said, pulling Ike to the side. "Need some help?"

Ike was distraught. "I've never used any of this stuff before. I just avoided the zombies, I never fought them." He looked behind him, but no one else was listening. "I-I don't know if I can do this."

"Dude, don't worry. I'll be out there with you."

"I know…I want Kyle to go too."

Ike sounded heartbroken, and Stan felt for the kid, he really did. "You know he can't."

Ike bit his lip hard, upset, and Stan was reminded that the boy was only twelve. Almost thirteen. It was a strange thing to think about. Age was a broken concept to Stan. If the zombies didn't care, why should he? When you were small, you hid. As you grew older, you ran. And eventually, if you survived puberty, you fought back.

Stan had done it. Any other kid, he'd thump them on the back and tell them to suck it up, but this was Ike. A living, breathing piece of his own childhood.

"Here, take this." He extended the bat to Ike, who took it with wide eyes. Damn, he really was feeling too sentimental. "I picked it up when I was about your age. Saved my life a good few times. It's easy to use, you just swing it, really."

Ike gripped the worn handle, tapped the metal end in his palm as confidence slowly ebbed its way back to him. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

"What will you use?"

"Probably one of the hunting knives. Maybe a screwdriver for backup."

"Stan, thank you. I mean…this is fantastic. I feel like I can use this."

Stan ruffled Ike's hair. "It's nothing."

The two returned to the group. Ike gave Kyle a hard hug. Stan watched them, a nice feeling growing inside him when Butters approached him.

"Hey, I'm not going, obviously, but I just wanted to say, good luck out there. Not that you need it!" he backtracked, "I just, I-um..."

"Butters," said Stan, looking at him pointedly. "I'll see you later."

"Right! You will!" Butters agreed as Stan's meaning dawned on him. "I mean- I will! Yeah!"

The blond gave Stan a fierce hug, then bounded off to Red. Stan watched him go, slipping the knife into the familiar spot in his boot. He watch Kyle and Ike finish their goodbyes. Kyle patted Ike on the back and whispered a few words in his ear before sending him in Stan's direction. He looked like a parent on their child's first day of school, all pride and nerves, with a burning want to follow. It was kind of sweet, Stan thought. A big step.

And they were off.

I did a bit of chapter splicing, otherwise this update would have been pitifully short. But finally, things! Adventure, zombies, all that stuff you initially sign up for in a zombie fic finally on the way! I mean, we had our close encounters (looking at you Kyle), but now we're doing big grown-up missions! I know, I know, I wrote the characters to be the way they are, but honestly I'm so excited for Ike. Like, you go kid, you deserve this.

You guys are wonderful, supportive, and amazingly responsive. Thank you so much for sticking with this story, thank you for your wonderful reviews, just, thank you.

(Also, this is the link to the song from the previous chapter. I'll link it there too, but it really is a beautiful sea shanty. The only acapella male version I could find was from Assassin's Creed, so if you play that, you already know the song!)

watch?v=CfMm7cIsb_I