This chapter isn't really that fun, so I decided to upload two chapters today instead of one. Let me know your thoughts? :)

"Shitfuck!" Kenny McCormick cried, a video game controller in his hands, as he watched his character die on the screen.

"Language!" came the deeply upset voice of Butters from the next bedroom over.

Kenny responded by pounding on the wall that separated their rooms, "It doesn't matter, your fuckin' parents aren't home!"

"Still! I don't like crude language!" Butters called back.

Over their teenage years, they developed the habit of shouting to each other from across the house instead of exerting the three seconds worth of effort it took to walk to the same room. It was sluggish, yes, and only halfway effective for conversation. But Kenny was a bag of lazy bones and Butters was only ever running around the house doing chores or grounded in his bedroom, so the system worked for them. They didn't complain, even though it drove Butters' parents up the wall.

"Well, your parents ain't fuckin' home, and I'm fuckin' frustrated, so I'm gonna run my fuckin' trap with shit words! I. Am. Frustrated!" Kenny shouted. He threw his game controller down on the mattress and kicked Butters' wall. He didn't do it to cause damage, he only kicked lightly to annoy Butters, who shunned loud noises just as much as he did curse words.

Catching him very much by surprise, Kenny's bedroom door swung open.

Groaning, Kenny rolled out of bed, "Jesus Christ, Butters, don't get upset. I was only poking fun at-"

-Just now he realized it wasn't Butters in his doorway.

Ike Broflovski stood in a poised manner, observing Kenny with unsubtle arbitrariness. Hanging over his shoulder he carried a university-style satchel. Snorting a little, Ike said, "So I hear you're frustrated."

"Wow!" Kenny laughed in surprise, "I haven't seen you in a while! How'd you get here?"

"I rode my bike. Your sister let me in," Ike explained. He took off his shoes and tucked them neatly in the corner. Then, without asking permission, he sat himself down on a chair and started unloading the many contents of his satchel.

"Sure, make yourself at home," Kenny rolled his eyes, "No, but seriously. I haven't seen you in a while. Not even in school. Where've you been?"

"Taking tests."

"Fun stuff," Kenny blew air out of his lips, slouching on his bed, "Shit's got really bad with Stan and Kyle. You've missed a lot."

"So have you, McCormick. So have you."

"You've missed more."

"I sincerely doubt it."

"On jaw. Deadass you missed more," Kenny said. He hopped off his mattress and went to his dresser drawer, where he took out his e-cigarette, "Some crazy shit happened last night. You literally missed a near-death brawl."

"You missed Kyle's wrists being slashed."

He dropped his e-cigarette.

"Okay, either I'm high or you just said-"

"-I said exactly what you think I said," Ike paused before adding, "You could be high, though. You don't quite look yourself."

"I don't feel myself, man," Kenny admitted, grabbing tufts of his hair in exhausted frustration, "I feel like crap. I didn't sleep last night, a lot of stuff went down. It got really bad..."

Kenny actually had to sit back down on his bed to keep his head from reeling.

He knew that Ike wasn't one to tell a lie, so he had to accept that in some way, shape, or form that his words had to be true. Kyle's wrists were slashed.

Kenny could barely grasp the concept. Being hit by a bus was already awful, then there was the life-threatening illness, followed by the harrowing bruises, and now there was this issue on the table. It made him feel dizzy just trying to process the thought of it. He was aware that Kyle was already in a bad place, and he knew that with Stan's influence, he was only going to get worse and worse, but he had no idea that Kyle would try something as harrowing as hurting himself. Self-destructive frenzies were something prone to Stan's behavior, not Kyle's.

Maybe that meant Stan was starting to rub off on Kyle.

Unless Kyle wasn't the one who did it.

With a trembling voice, Kenny piped up, "What do you mean the Kylie-B's wrists were slashed? Does that mean, like… self-harm? Or-..."

"I don't know."

That sentence alone sent a chill down Kenny's spine. Ike was the kid genius who knew everything. If they were already at a point where Ike didn't know-

"-I don't think so, though. I don't think my brother is into that sort of thing," Ike started, prying Kenny from his thoughts, "See, Gerald, Sheila, and I were up late last night, and Kyle didn't come home until about 4:15. I don't know how he got home, but I saw a van drive off after he came inside. He and his parents got into a dispute, which is rational, you know, after he showed up at that hour."

Ike wasn't looking at Kenny anymore. It was like he was locked in the memory. He cleared his throat before continuing.

"Anyway, after their dispute, I went to his bedroom to check up on him, and then I saw his wrists," Ike's expression went stern and cold, "It's difficult to describe the sight of them. They weren't even clean cuts, either. It was like someone took a jack-knife and just hacked away until he broke out in hives and blisters. It was-... It was not a pleasant sight."

"Ew," Kenny tasted bile in the back of his throat.

"What's the matter?"

"Just threw up in my mouth a bit. Poor Kylie-B."

"I don't even know what to make of it," Ike went on, "I cleaned up what I could of his wrists and I asked him again and again what happened, but he didn't want to speak. Just like when he came back after Marsh took him away last time, he just shut himself up. He was really stressed, so I told him to sleep and I would check on him in the morning. When morning came, I went to his room, and he was nowhere to be found."

Kenny's veins went cold, "Wait. Waitwaitwait. Whaddya mean?"

"I mean he was gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone."

"Like, gone gone?"

Ike pulled a strange face, "Gone. Verb. Past participle form of 'go.' What else could you possibly mean?"

"I don't know, I just-" Kenny took a deep breath, "Damn."

"Quite," Ike looked at the floor, "I'm not sure what to make of it. My only theory is that Marsh got to him again, but I didn't hear a car pull up at all last night."

"His car's broken, he must've walked," Kenny grumbled, lowering his face in his hands.

"That's odd."

"That he'd walk? People walk, you know. It's kind of a thing people do."

"No, it's odd that you agree with me. I never thought you'd so willingly succumb to the idea that Marsh is the perpetrator here," Ike said, his dark eyes vast, "You were always the neutral party. What's changed for you, McCormick?"

"Welp," Kenny sighed, "Like I said, you missed a lot."

"Enlighten me," Ike demanded, pulling out a notebook and a pen.

"Seriously?"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know, I just thought you would already know everything. Did Kyle not tell you what's been going on recently?"

"My brother has yet to spill a single word about anything," Ike said, slight irritation biting his tone, "I can't help but wonder if Marsh has done something to force him to keep quiet."

"Honestly, at this point, it wouldn't be far-fetched to believe," Kenny grumbled. It disturbed him how nonchalantly they were talking. Everything about this whole crisis was so terribly disturbing, but here they were, casually talking about the mental deterioration of one of his best friends.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Okay, Ike. What do you already know about Bebe's party?"

"I know that it happened," Ike stated, his hand poised and ready to write, "I know Kyle went there after he got his cast put in a boot, and that it was held in the Stevens' hotel. That's about all I know."

"Well, you're in for a fun story. Buckle up," Kenny grumbled. He went on pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to recount all the important details he could, "Okay, so, let's see here… Way, way back on Monday, me and the boys were eating lunch together like we always do. I was sitting next to the Kylie-B 'cause I missed him and I didn't expect to see him at school at all, actually. I was very surprised to see him there, but I loved it, don't get me wrong. And, you know, since we were sitting together, I was pretty close so I could see-... Well, I'm sure you've seen it. The back of his neck?"

"Yes, right at the base of his skull," Ike sighed, "It's ghastly."

"Yeah… I really thought I knew who Stan was, but just that sight made me reconsider everything," Kenny licked his lips, his thoughts jumbling chaotically, "Anyway, I finally caught on after I saw that bruise. Pissed me the fuck off. Ever since then, I tried keeping tabs on the Kylie-B and I did my best to keep them separated at school, but as you can probably imagine-"

"-Nevertheless she persisted."

Kenny tilted his head to the side, "Who's 'she?'"

Ike rolled his eyes, "Famous quote. Don't worry about it. Go on."

"Ay caramba," Kenny sighed. He flopped down on the bed and groaned, "Anyway, yeah. Stan persisted in keeping Kyle at his hip twenty-four-seven. Even at the party they were- Wait! No, even before the party, Stan was acting weird! He got all spazzed out about Kyle wearing a coat or something, so he was freaking out, and he got all grabby, and he threatened to leave! Before we even went inside!"

"I did notice when Kyle came home he had someone else's coat."

"Yeah. I don't know what the fuck that was about. But that's how it went down."

"Whose coat is it?"

"My good ol' foster brother's," Kenny knocked on the wall between their bedrooms again.

In response, Butters shouted back, "Stop doing that! You're gonna put dents in the wall and I'm gonna get grounded 'cause of you!"

"He's pissed at me about it," Kenny smiled sadly, "He really liked that coat."

"I'm sure he'll get it back after we fix this situation," Ike said flatly. He didn't even pretend to care. He read over the notes he had written down, "Go on, would you? Why did he come home so late?"

"You know, I don't really know. The last thing that I remember happening was literally a shitshow," Kenny ran a hand through his mussy hair, "Okay, so picture this. Kyle's finally having fun for the first time in a long time, right? Like, legit fun. Not only that, but he's slow dancing with a hot guy. I was so proud. So he's over there, having it out like a king, while Stan's seemingly minding his own business on the other side of the lobby. Then for, like, no reason at all, he just runs up and straight punches the guy."

"Who punches who and why?"

Kenny used his hands as he spoke, "Stan runs up and beats the snot out of the guy Kyle was dancing with. For, like, no reason! And he just hammers into the guy! He doesn't even give him a chance to defend himself, he just beats up his face 'til he's literally bleeding all over the floor."

He felt himself cringe at the memory. Something about that whole night was just plaguing.

Fights were nothing out of the ordinary for parties, especially Bebe's parties. Kenny knew because he had been involved in a few of them. Even when they were extreme, fights were always treated as a sort of sport. Partygoers in this town loved them. Crowds always went wild with excitement, and people often pushed to the front to see them up close. Sometimes, people even placed bets.

But something was different about this fight, and everyone who was there that night knew it.

Maybe it was because their famous-but-humble star quarterback was the one who initiated it, maybe it was because the North Park kid wasn't even given a chance to defend himself, or maybe it was simply because it started during the otherwise placid slow-dance, but for whatever reason it was, that attack was a burdensome memory that the kids of this town would have to carry on their shoulders forever.

Kenny hardly knew how to process it. Stan had gotten himself thrown into fights before, sure, he could accept that; (as previously stated, Kenny had been in fights too, so he had no room to judge.) But Stan had never ever been one to initiate an attack before, he was only ever defending himself or somebody else. He had integrity.

Or so Kenny thought.

Stan didn't even fight fairly. He didn't give the guy a chance to defend himself. All of this on top of the fact that he didn't have a justifiable reason to attack him.

At least, Kenny didn't think it was justifiable. He saw Kyle kiss the North Park kid, of course.
In truth, Kenny knew deep down that Stan had a very valid point when he said Kyle should stay away from strangers. First of all, staying away from strangers is a basic childhood law. Secondly, there was Kyle's illness. Kenny didn't even know if Kyle recovered from it; Stan said that he did, but Kyle still looked really sick and he acted like it, too. So really, it might have been better for him if he stayed away from that guy, but did just a smidge of exposure warrant so much violence?

No, it didn't. It really didn't. Stan was entirely out of line in the effort he took to protect his super best friend. He attacked an innocent young man and terrified more than one hundred kids who were only there to have fun, including Kyle.

That was another thing that was concerning.

Kyle had been the bravest one there out of all of them. He was the only one in the entire crowd who tried to pull Stan back, and he paid the price for it when he got kicked back. Not only that, but Kyle put himself in even more danger when he offered himself up as compensation. He gave Stan full consent to exactly what he wanted-to take Kyle away- just so he could protect the North Park kid.

Kenny had stayed awake thinking about this late into the night, when a burdensome thought lifted in the back of his mind:
Kyle really had been the bravest out of all of them, even though he was shying and hiding away from Stan this entire week at school. Kenny couldn't help but worry if that meant Kyle had seen Stan do even worse.

He finished telling the story, but Ike didn't even blink.

Kenny gaped.

Ike scrutinized him, "What?"

"I don't know, I thought you'd be more… I don't know, blown away? At least a little bit concerned?" Kenny stated dubiously, his jaw practically to the floor.

"Forgive me if I'm offending you," Ike rolled his eyes sarcastically, "Go on. We're getting somewhere."

"Damn, and I thought Canadians were supposed to be the kindest angels among men."

"Go on."

"Jesus Christ, alright! Stop yelling at me, Mom," Kenny tried to pick up where he left off, "Okay, where was I? So the guy's in serious pain. Kyle and I are freaking out at this point-Oh, by the way, I forgot one detail. Kyle tried to pull Stan back at one point, but got kicked in the stomach, so he was in pain, too. Anyway, Kyle tells me to take the guy to the hospital, and he'd take Stan home."

"And you agreed?"

"No! I hated the idea of them two being alone together!" Kenny cried, "But you have to understand, just the state that Stan was in-... We couldn't let him be in a room with that kid anymore. His life was legitimately at stake."

Now Ike finally looked intrigued. He set his pen aside on his notebook and looked up at Kenny with a precise spark of interest in his eyes, "His life?"

Kenny's breath caught in his throat, "Um, yeah. I found out that tidbit later. At the hospital. He, uh. Geez, this is gonna be weird to say out loud. 'pparently, his nose was broken and a cheekbone was fractured. I think the docs said something like some of the bone from his cheek fractured through his skull, or something like that. They said one more punch probably could have given 'im permanent brain damage if not paralyze him or something."

Ike nodded to himself, lost in contemplation. Completely disregarding Kenny's presence, Ike scribbled some notes down on his notepad. His movements were composed and sure, but Kenny could tell that he was definitely less calm on the inside.

"What happened next?" Ike asked, not even looking up from his notepad.

"I don't know," Kenny confessed, feeling a little guilty, "I went to take the guy to the hospital out the back door, while Kyle and Stan left out the front. That's the last I saw either of them."

Ike's brow furrowed, his obscure dark eyes spiraling in angry thought. He shook his head to himself and put the notebook away, "Well that story was pointless."

Kenny stalled, "Why was it pointless?"

"I thought details from the party would help produce some theories as to where my brother might have gone," Ike brooded, "But it didn't. Just filled me in on what I missed."

"Still essential info, though," Kenny pointed out.

"Indeed, but not what I need right now. I just want to find Kyle right now, and worry about Marsh later."

"You really don't have any theories?"

"I do have some, but I don't necessarily have faith in them."

Kenny groaned, "Really?"

"Well my first two theories are Marsh's house and Tegridy Farms, but Kyle isn't stupid enough to go there on his own free will. And even if he were taken against his will, Marsh can't possibly be stupid enough to host him in locations so obvious," Ike stated. He paused, then added, "Or would he? I could be giving him too much credit."

"Well, the man does play football. Probably got, like, a hundred brain cells knocked out of his head."

"That's not how biology works, but okay. Do you think they could actually be at the house or farmhouse?"

"Actually, yeah. Stan's not the sharpest tool in the shed. I love him to death, but he ain't too bright. Not like I have any room to judge, though," Kenny laughed, "I'm kinda stupid, too."

"I think you're intelligent."

"No way, hold up!" Kenny's jaw swung open, "You think I'm smart? You, a literal prodigy, think a kid with a D-average in common core classes is smart?"

"The school system is skewed. Not all intelligence derives from a graded scale," Ike pointed out, "Besides, I said I think you are. I predict that you're intelligent in an area of study outside of academics and that you just don't give yourself enough personal credit, but as of now it's just a prediction. I haven't quite made up my mind about you just yet."

"Ouch," Kenny winced, "Way to build up a man's confidence and then squish it like a bug."

Ike gave a half-smile for compensation, before diving right back into business; "So back to my question. Do you think Marsh would be somewhere as simple as his house?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so. But who knows for sure?" Kenny lolled his head to the side in exhaustion, "I don't know anything anymore and nothing means anything and everything sucks."

"And I thought you were an optimist," Ike snorted. He took a tupperware out of his satchel, "Cake?"

Kenny's jaw dropped, "Um, are you fucking kidding me? Yes, I want cake!"

He opened the plastic container and took out a slightly misshapen slice of cake. He ate it with his bare hands, sitting with his legs crossed on his bed.

"'m sorta an optimist," Kenny mumbled with his mouth full, "I jus' become a nihilist when I feel like it. I don't really believe in labels."

"Clearly," Ike muttered.

"Is it your birthday, my dude? Are you finally moving up in the world?" Kenny asked as he licked icing off his fingers.

"No."

"Where'd the cake come from, then?"

From where Kenny sat, he could see Ike trying to bite back a smile. He was really doing his best to hide it, but nonetheless Kenny saw it.

"Duuude," Kenny smiled, "What is it? Cute girl give it to you or something? C'mon, you can tell me!"

Ike cleared his throat and looked the other way, "I won valedictorian."

Kenny's jaw dropped to the floor, "Dude."

"I know…"

"Congratulations!"

Ike stopped for a moment.
He took a quick breath before pressing, "Why are you congratulating me?"

"Dude, valedictorian is a huge huge huge accomplishment!" Kenny praised, "Why wouldn't I? And at your age, too, you're putting Testaburger to shame! Congrats! Really!"

"I thought you'd be upset."

"Why?" Kenny laughed, "It's not like I stood a chance!"

"But Kyle used to stand a chance."

Kenny finally understood; the realization hit him like a truck.
He winced, "Oh. Yeah. Right."

"Right."

As Kenny finished the cake, he closed the tupperware and handed it back over to Ike, "So how'd he take the news?"

"I couldn't tell you for certain," Ike said, filing the plastic bin in his satchel, "I'm not skilled at reading emotions, I'll admit that. He told me 'congratulations,' of course, and he tried to be supportive. But he didn't eat any cake. He lied on his floor pretty much the whole night before I last saw him."

"Poor dude. Seriously. He's had a shitty past two weeks."

"Indeed he has," Ike sighed. He made a move to stand up.

"Wait wait wait! Where're you going?" Kenny cried, "Leaving so soon?"

"Well I only got a little information here," Ike said, looking to be a little uncomfortable, "I think I need to interview that Stevens girl or someone else who was at the party to see if I can get any more leads."

Kenny hopped out of bed and grabbed his parka, "Well, I'll go with you, then."

Ike looked him up and down in a way that made Kenny feel like he was being criticized, "No, you won't."

"Why not? Are you kidding me? You literally brought me a cake, dude, it's the least I could do to pay you back!"

Ike slung his satchel over his shoulder and started to put on his shoes, "No really, McCormick. You can stay here. It won't be worth the trouble."

"But I'm just as worried about Kyle and Stan as you are!" Kenny was stupefied, "Are you seriously telling me you don't want me going with you? I've been on this case since the start, dude, what the hell! Let's just go to Stan's house or Tegridy Farms and see what we can see."

"No. I don't want to make any more foolish decisions and have everything end poorly like it did last time," Ike said, rubbing the fading bruise on his jaw, "We need a structured, sophisticated plan."

"Exactly why you need a partner, dude," Kenny said. He paused for a moment before asking, "C'mon, Ike. Let's just go look for more information together. We're friends, right?"

Ike actually laughed.

"What?"

"I don't need friends," Ike chortled.

"I don't need friends, they disappoint me," Kenny smiled.

"..."

"..."

Ike stared, "What was that about?"

"Oh," Kenny stared too, "I thought you were-... The Vine? I thought you were doing another quote… The little- You know, the- Are you telling me you don't know the thing 'I don't need friends, they disappoint me,' and then the actress whips around and punches thin air? I swear you were quoting that thing."

Ike just pursed his lips, looking at Kenny condescendingly.

Kenny fumbled on, "You know… The Vine? 'Cause you're into quotes… and stuff?"

"McCormick, no," Ike had a bemused half-smile playing on his lips, "No. I don't need this right now. I don't need friends. I don't need distractions. What I need is to go to work. I'm going to conduct some more research on the party to see if I can learn anything more about our situation. Afterwards, I'll-"

"-Our situation?" Kenny repeated, "Is it even worth calling 'our?'"

Ike paused for a moment, his dark eyes large with speculation. In one composed movement, he set his satchel aside and sat back down on the chair. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes foreboding when he asked, "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, like…" Kenny was flabbergasted, "I don't know! It's just- You're kinda being a dick, you know? Even though you brought me cake. You're, like, shutting me out on this, even though we've pretty much been working together since the beginning, dude."

Ike looked at him dubiously, "I work with you when I need you, and I don't need you right now. It's as simple as that."

"Ike, what do you even-..." Kenny took a breath.

He stooped down to the floor to pick up his e-cigarette and fumbled to put it back together. After ensuring that it still worked, Kenny took a smoke and let the perfume ride along his tongue.
He sat down on the edge of his bed, "Ike, what is your motive in all of this?"

"My motive?" Ike quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean, most of the time, it kinda sorta feels like you don't really care about people at all," Kenny explained, "But, like, I feel like you really care about Kyle, which is why you go through all this trouble to help a brother out. But still, the other half of the time, it's like you're this void, you know?"

If Ike was affected by Kenny's words at all, he didn't express it.

"No, I don't know," Ike said impassively.

"I'm serious, Ike!" Kenny leaned forward on the bed, "I want to know why you care so much. I really do."

When Ike didn't say anything, Kenny took another hit from his smoker and spoke on:
"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay. Tell you what, Imma tell you why I care so much, then you have to tell me why you care so much. It's only fair. Here, lemme go first."
Kenny blew smoke out of his nostrils, "I love my dude the Kylie-B. Like, he's the best. I love him to death. He's great. Same with Stan. Love the dude to death. They're both great. But they've changed a lot over the years. Subtle changes, changes most people wouldn't really notice. But I guess just 'cause we were so close, I started picking up on them. Like how Kyle was spending less time with people, and how Stan got really emotionally attached to him. And I guess I just never really realized that our friendship wasn't the same until it was too late, you know? I don't want to say I feel left out, 'cause that's not it at all, I guess I just feel…"
Kenny thought for a moment, "I don't know, I feel like whatever mental bug got hold of their heads and fucked up their brains is taking my friends away from me. And I just want to stop it so I can get them back. … Does that make any sense?"

"Sure," Ike said, his obscure eyes impossible to read, "It does."

"Fantastic," Kenny huffed and put his e-cigarette back in its drawer, "Your turn now."

"My turn for what?"

"You have to tell me why you care so much."

Ike looked at him like he was an idiot, "Do I really need a reason, McCormick? He's the only family I have."

"Yeah, but-..."

"But what?"

"...I don't know. I just feel like there's… something else."

"Something else?"

"Yeah, like-... I don't really know. Are you, like, planning for something? Is there some emotional stuff going on on a deeper level? I don't know. Something like that."

Ike shrugged innocently. There was no malice in his tone when he said, "I'm always planning for something."

Kenny was about to take another smoke from his e-cigarette, but stopped himself. He let its metal mouth rest at his lips while he eyed Ike peculiarly, "What's that mean?"

"I'm always planning. I'm always thinking," he shrugged again, "That's just how I work."

"..."

"..."

"Ike, do you-"

-There was a timid knock at Kenny's bedroom door, before Butters opened it aside. He tucked his head around the corner, "Uh, hiya fellers."

"Dude, we're a little busy right now," Kenny bit the inside of his cheek to hold himself back from getting frustrated.

"I know, I'm sorry, I just saw that Kyle's little brother walked in so I-" Butters rubbed his knuckles together, addressing Ike now, "-I was only wonderin' if you could ask him to bring my coat back? I don't really own another one."

Catching Kenny by surprise, Ike was actually really patient with Butters' timidity. He responded carefully, even making eye contact when he said, "I apologize for that. I would ask him if I could, but I don't know where my brother is at the moment."

"He's not hanging out with Stan?" Butters proposed lightly, "That's where I'd look."

Kenny and Ike shared a look, before Ike said, "We don't want to venture into that territory right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just saying, if he's hangin' out with Stan, you might not see him for a few days."

Kenny's stomach flipped over, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well," Butters started, twiddling his hands together nervously, "When I was cleaning the kitchen last night, y'know, just doin' my chores, I accidentally overheard a phone conversation between my mom and Mrs. Marsh. She said the Marshes were goin' out of town for a week 'cause Stan's sister's sick."

Kenny and Ike shared another look, this time it was one of immediacy.

"He wouldn't-" Kenny swallowed, "Stan wouldn't've taken Kyle out of the state with him, right? That's- That's too far. He wouldn't do that, right?"

"He would," Ike said somberly, "He's done it before."

"Wait. Hold on. I thought that was just a threat. Did they actually go out of state last week?"

Ike threw Butters a look over his shoulder and said, "Thank you, Scotch. You can leave now."

"B-But my coat-"

"-I'll find a way to get it back to you, alright? Leave us for now, thank you."

Kenny watched Butters flinch at Ike's sudden directness. He rubbed his knuckles together for a moment longer, biting his lip in that anxious way he does, before he finally left Kenny's room, closing the door behind him.

As soon as Butters was gone, Kenny leaned forward on the bed eagerly, "Did they actually go out of state after Stan took him out of Tegridy Farms?"

"I have to assume so," Ike was flipping through the pages of his notebook, "On Sunday, some police officers found Gerald's car in Laramie, so evidently they found Marsh and my brother there as well."

"What's Laramie?"

"Laramie, Wyoming."

"People actually live in Wyoming?"

"Very few, but yes."

"Seriously? Are you fucking kidding me right now? I thought Wyoming was just this giant field out in the middle of nowhere! People live there?!"

"It is a giant field out in the middle of nowhere, but it's the forty-fourth state of the United States. People live there."

"Jesus! This is crazy."

"That people just happen to live in a rural environment?" Ike asked curtly.

"No, that Stan took him out of the state!" Kenny exclaimed, pulling at his hair.

Dating way back to their childhood, Kenny remembered it being evident that Stan never really wanted to leave town. There were a few school trips and some football games that ended up taking Stan out of the state for short periods of time, but he was always anxious for them to be over. Kenny thought it was endearing, really, that Stan had the whole "small-town celebrity" vibe going for him. Despite the fact that they lived in a rather chaotic, destructive, isolated little town, Stan seemed to really enjoy it, and that was integral to his character.

Now that Kenny thought about it, he didn't know if Kyle felt the same way. He knew that all the colleges and universities he applied to were big-name and far away, but that didn't automatically go to say that Kyle didn't want to return home after he graduated. Kenny wasn't like Stan in the way that he knew absolutely everything about Kyle, and so it was difficult to say if he actually liked it here at all.

But even if both Stan and Kyle hated living here, that did not excuse running off to Wyoming in a stolen car. That was a concept so astronomically out of character for both of them, just the thought of it made butterflies flap around inside Kenny's stomach.

"That's-..." Kenny started, though he was barely aware of the words leaving his mouth, "That's weird..."

"Yes," Ike muttered, reading over his notes, "Randy and Sheila had to pick them up at a police station. The report said they were found in a shady hotel on the outskirts of town when the car was reported."

"I do remember Stan saying something about a police station," Kenny remembered, "But I just didn't ask about it. They both seemed stressed, so I didn't bring it up. Doya think that was a bad call on my part?"

"No. Even if you did ask, I highly doubt either of them would have told you anything," Ike pointed out.

"Yeah," Kenny grumbled, "Yeah, you're right. Dang it… So does this mean Stan took Kyle and left the state again?"

Ike set his notebook aside, "In all honesty, I don't think so. It doesn't seem natural that he would do something like that when he's with his parents. They must still be somewhere in town."

"Well, that's good," Kenny stood up and grabbed his parka again, "Let's go look for them."

"You have the memory of a goldfish, McCormick," Ike muttered, "I already said that I don't want to search for them until we have a plan."

"Plan, shman. Let's go right now, come on."

"Absolutely not. Not until we have a structured, sophisticated plan of action."

"Whaddya waiting for? A search warrant? A gold medal? What do you want?" Kenny accidentally laughed.

Ike's lips drew to a thin line, "What I want is to not look like an absolute idiot by running in without a plan again. I know you're aware of everything that happened last time. You can't tell me that you'd like history to repeat itself."

Kenny eyed the bruise on Ike's jaw, "Just wear a helmet and you'll be good to go."

"I'm serious."

"And you think I'm not?" Kenny zipped up his parka, "C'mon, we've got to get a move on. Wear a protective helmet if you want, I don't care, but we really should go to Stan's house soon. The sooner we separate them, the better."

"I completely disagree," Ike crossed his arms over his chest, "If we blindly barge on in, we put both ourselves and Kyle at risk. The exact same thing that happened at Tegridy Farms will undeniably happen again. Marsh will come out on top, he'll probably run away with Kyle, and we'll be at square one. We can't go now, we need to wait until we have a legitimate plan."

"But if we wait to come up with something, we're just wasting time!"

"And? It's not like they're going anywhere."

Kenny felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up, "Are you telling me that you'd be fine just having Kyle wait on being rescued? After everything that's happened, you think it's a good idea to just let them be alone together?"

"I never said it was a good idea, but I am fine with it, yes. It's for the greater good of himself."

Kenny bristled, "But you've seen the bruises on his neck and face! And after the shitshow at Bebe's party, who knows what Stan's preparing to do?!"

"I'll have you know that Kyle is a lot stronger than what you give him credit for," Ike stood up from the chair now.

"He used to be!" Kenny cried, "Then he got injured and sick, and he keeps getting worse! And with Stan starting to go a little crazy, both of them are just gonna get worse, and worse, and worse, and worse until it's too late!"

"It won't be too late!" Ike bit back now, his black-hole eyes ablaze, "The only thing that's needed is a structured system of action, and it will be implemented when the time is right! I refuse to let the unknown play a factor here, we will come in prepared so as to protect all of us!"

"No, Ike!" Kenny shrieked, "I can't just sit back and wait knowing that they're alone together! It'll drive me insane, thinking about all the horrible things that could happen! I could- I would-... I-I can't just do that, Ike…"

"No one ever said we had to be a team."

Something ate away at Kenny's heart, "What…?"

Ike was completely composed, as if he hadn't riled himself up at all. He straightened the cuffs of his sleeved shirt as he explained, "I'm not going to hold you back. I won't stop you from making your own decisions. I only choose to do what I think is best, and what I think is best is having a plan. But my belief does not impede on yours, McCormick. If you want to make that decision, that's fine. It's just far too risky for my tastes."

"What do you mean?" for some reason, Kenny's heart was beating much too fast.

"I mean exactly as I'm saying. I don't need to spell it out," Ike slung his satchel over his shoulder, "If you want to look for Marsh and my brother before I develop a plan, you most certainly can. Just know that I won't be going with you."

"But I thought we were buddy cops..."

"You made that title, not me," Ike smirked, "But in all sincerity, if you want to go, go. I don't care. I won't, but you can."

Without another word, Ike turned toward the door. He made a move to leave, but Kenny stopped him.

"Dude!" Kenny urged, "Okay, I'll admit I don't know as much as you, but I do know that no one can go in all alone! I mean, just one person? Against Stan? While Kyle might need help walkin' or whatever, it's literally impossible for just one dude to take Stan down, we all know what he's capable of. It's fucking stupid for somebody to go in by themselves!"

"Especially without a plan," Ike pointed.

Kenny felt something sink in his chest, "C'mon, man, seriously? ...I… I really don't want to wait."

"Well I don't want to risk anything. Do you have my phone number?"

"Um. Yeah. Pretty sure. Why?"

"Well I'm not going to take any chances, but if you decide to venture out in the world, let me know about your results," Ike stated flatly. If he pitied Kenny in the slightest degree, he didn't show a fraction of it, "You may do whatever you will with them, just do me a favor and don't chase them out of town. That'll mess up any preparations I've already made."

Kenny wrapped his arms around himself, all of a sudden feeling really small in his own bedroom, "You make everything sound like this big, elaborate thing, don't you?"

"I only want to play it safe," Ike explained, a strange sort of soothing quality ebbing into his tone, "With Kyle's lack of wellness and Marsh's instability, the worst thing we could do is come in unprepared. We risk everything, we risk ourselves and them."

"Nah, man, the worst thing we could do is leave them alone together for too long."

"We'll agree to disagree," Ike said, giving a nod.

He looked Kenny up and down again, but this time it didn't make him feel like he was being ridiculed. He more so felt as though Ike was searching for something in him, something intransigent. He gave another nod, and then promptly left, leaving Kenny standing upright, all alone in the confines of his bedroom.

"Well," he announced to nobody, his fists in the pockets of his parka, "Shitfuck."