Kenny, too, soon found his parents free from a certain drug abuse after returning with the new Eric. The one from the past, that is. Mr. and Mrs. McCormick despised each others company once again, but at least cat urine wasn't involved.

His new company with the new Eric was interrupted by the entirety of Coon & Friends bursting into his polluted neighborhood, a battalion ready to set off in front of his home, where they were both standing.

"CARTMAN!" yelled Human Kite. "If you don't get the hell away from our teammate, I'm going to laser you! With my eyes!" He wasn't kidding, because for all intents and purposes, he did have super powers.

"What are you, some gay shit now? He's mine," said the Coon, hands touching the shoulders clad in bright orange parka. "What's that mean to you, Human Kite?"

"It means you're a psycho rapist murderer! We know what you did to Butthole's parents! And Kenny.. you!" The Jew was mortified in what must be sympathy, looking over Kenny. The only flesh seen to the daylight under the parka was his face, but Kyle's mind was wrought with ideas of what the parka obscured.

"(Kyle, Mitch Conner is dead. There's nothing you need to worry about now,)" said Kenny, feeling light-headed and wishing for this all to end.

"Not yet, he isn't." As he said this, Call Girl nodded behind him and swung out her two phones. The rest of Coon & Friends was behaving hesitantly, save Doctor Timothy.

"(No, really, he's dead. I was there when it happened. The Coon saved me. He beat Mitch Conner and the body he was inhabiting to death. It's in Cartman's room if you want proof.)"

"Kenny," said Stan, fear rising again as he supported his fiery redhead of a friend. "If he's still holding you hostage, we can free you. He's outnumbered."

"(Stan, you were right. And I'm not playing that game anymore. I am in love with him. And if you know what's best for you, you'll go now. You and the rest of the Coon & Friends. Mysterion's taking a break, and Kenny's going to get some attention.)" There was silence, utter confusion, no doubt. "(And I mean it. Fuck off, you guys.)"

The Human Kite was distressed. "Kenny..."

"(For fuck's sake! All right, we're going, Eric...)" He turned sharply to his companion. The Coon had been watching him this whole conversation. "(Coon.)" He tugged on his hand.

"Yeah, babe, let's go inside then." He winked and the walked with his old rival through the backyard and into Kenny's tiny, broken down home.

"I don't understand..." said Kyle, defeated. "All that. The fight against the giant mutant clone of my cousin. The mafia infiltrating Buca De Faggonchini. The entire adult population in shambles. Our game. It was because of that? Just so Kenny and Cartman can lay each other?"

"Well. It makes sense, doesn't it?" Stan replied, cleaning the goggles of Toolshed on his t-shirt.

Sternly Craig continued that thought, "The only thing that could fix Cartman's problem was Cartman. Cartman had to save Kenny. If we intervened, we only would have exacerbated his madness."

"Do you think Kenny knows that he's wrong in the head?" Scott spoke up, for the first time in a very long time this mission.

Kyle was about to disagree, but Stan cut him off: "Yeah. I think he does. I don't really think this is our problem anymore. Craig's right, intervening will only cause us more problems. Like it did that first time."

"Oooh," said everyone, remembering the wedding. The uneventful, fucking wedding.

"I guess everyone was a little too horny that day," said Toolshed sadly.

His intoxicated parents could be heard bickering at each other through the thin walls, never to reconcile like Butthole's parents did. Next to the closet in Kenny's room the two boys stood looking at each other. They were here before, in the alternate timeline that Kenny experienced, but Eric didn't. Eric didn't remember how he betrayed Kenny's open petition for intimacy, and promptly. No, he had to remind himself. That was Mitch Conner, not Eric.

Eric's two hands were touching Kenny's shoulders again, like he once did, and it was causing sparks in his mind to fly. For once the gains outweighed the losses. Did he miss the Large-Breasted Woman? Yes. Was he suffering massive withdrawal and physical pain? Did he have a solution to this withdrawal? Yes and yes.

He had taken off his mask and Eric's smile was brilliant. It was as if they never fought in separate factions and Kenny's poor hygiene didn't bother him. This was a first.

Terrified for it to be his last, Kenny did not say anything. He didn't want any explanation, if it meant that this spell they were under would be broken. He wouldn't question Eric's methods, his abuse, if that meant that he could love Kenny without any shame. His schizophrenia was another vulnerability he had come to accept. Yet the truth, or the discussion of it, was inevitable. After they were done with… whatever this moment was. But Kenny was determined to appreciate every drop and lick of Eric's tongue, if he could. Not a second after he thought that, it was plunging into his mouth.

His dear Eric was violent as ever about it, yet a good kisser. I wonder where he got that kind of experience. Kenny rarely kissed, himself. The parka tended to get in the way, and mouth-to-mouth was lower on his list of physical priorities. But Eric was pushing past the rim of his hood; not even the zipper could stop his hungry, roving face.

The kiss broke. "God, Kenny, you're the cutest thing ever. Did you know that?"

Kenny flushed at the sudden compliment. "(You had to stop to tell me that?)"

Eric glared. Kenny's heart jumped in dread. Instead of saying anything, and instead of punishing him like that frightening manimal he tended to be, the brunet resumed contact between their mouths from where it left off.

Once Kenny had his withdrawal cured, he was fastened to his latest fix like a latch, not wanting to break the constant sense of warmth. They were cuddled on the tiny, creaking bed. Eric smiled proudly at his new boyfriend, and Kenny imagined that the smile would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Their strange rune of silence was finally pierced by Eric's droning. "I'm sorry you're hurt. I'm sorry for what he did to you."

Kenny froze, blood drawing cold. There were deep bruises from where "Mitch Conner" nearly choked Mysterion to death. Despite the mental disconnect between the two personalities, Eric had seen them. He must have identified them: the culprit.

"It was Super Craig who warned me from the future. I had to stop Mitch Conner, since it was the only way to save us from an eternal Christmas. And you dying."

"Because if I died, that would be horrible," said Kenny.

"I couldn't let him kill you. I love you, Kenny. I know that now. Mitch fucking Conner tricked me; that was his fault."

Kenny, still by his side, still feeling close to him, was speechless. Eric loved him back. If that meant he had to pin it on his alter ego, on his second personality, that was fine. If anyone understood that to him these ghosts were real people, it was Kenny.

"You believe me, right? You believe that it was Mitch, and not me?"

Kenny stretched his arms around his lover's torso, eyes wet with relief. "Yes Eric. I believe you."