Annnd here we go with ANOTHER edit.

Disclaimer: I was recruited to become a gay exorcist (no, seriously) and was only spared recently by the crop sacrifice of Britney Spears. I am a terrible, terrible person for not updating this sooner, but real life interfered. … or cosplay. Because everyone knows cosplay is real life. As well, I suffered deeply by the rape of Indiana Jones and the Storm Trooper formerly known as Bob.

This chapter is still dedicated to Chiraru for yelling at me to get my ass back in the fandom. Love to her, always. I miss you...

Daybreak.

Stan awoke to find a backpack cradled under his arm, bare fingers twisted around one of the shoulder straps. He thought he might have dreamed the entire sequence but, as he sat upright squinting to adjust to the new light of morning, there was the slightest indent beside him, leaves brushed away leaving the brown, dirt bottom. His fingers wrapped around a red, curly hair.

It was real – it had to be. For a little while, it was real, and Kyle was his.

He yawned, arms stretching behind his head then he rose to his feet, lifted up the backpack, and pulled it over his shoulders, shrugging beneath its weight as he stepped forward: left, right, left right.

It was fairly quiet save for the grunts of the student body surrounding him, all the boys packing up for this day's travel.

"Hey Stan!" Kyle called, hand waving.

Stan lifted his hand halfway before dropping it. His eyes caught something from above. A telephone wire. It did exist. A town couldn't be that far away.

"We should get going," Stan said. "I'm starving."

"Want to split a Kosher pack of Gummi Bears?"

Stan stared at his friend incredulously. "They make Kosher Gummi Bears?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Kyle replied, opening up the end.

"Good point," he said, holding out his hand as Kyle spilled in the gummies. "Hey Kyle, about last night. Did-"

"Hey Stan, what's up?" a loud voice said, interrupting his train of thought.

Stan turned, shrieking as he saw Kenny's orange parka. "Holy SHIT, dude!"

"What the fuck's your problem?" he mumbled, barely comprehensible. Kyle blinked at Stan.

"You feeling okay?"

"But Kenny's…"

"…?"

"… this is so fucked up."

And truly, for lack of other words, it was. Stan pinched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. The sound of a crow echoed from overhead. Everything stilled into nothing.

"Let's just get out of here," Stan said, not wanting to think, to ponder the reasons why. Why had any of this happened? Was he going nuts? Didn't they just get lost in the woods after their bus broke down? There wasn't a gnome or troll or any shit like that.

"What? I'm sorry, could you repeat that? Your fairy voice is too soft for my delicate ears," Cartman said.

"Fuck you, fat ass."

"No thanks, fudge packer."

"You stupid fuck face-"

"Now Stan," Cartman continued, faux reprimanding him. "Is it really nice to call names? I mean, just because you're GAY doesn't mean you have to be a dick to the rest of us."

Clyde was the first to laugh. As Stan met his eyes, one thing was clear: hurt. Laughter was payback, at least the only that Clyde could come up with. He was too sweet to do something really wrong, and that upset him more than anything.

"Look, whatever. Can we just shut up and get the fuck back on the road again? We'll run out of food soon enough," Kyle said. Kyle always came to save the day. Always. Stan always liked him for that, except when Kyle would go off on tangents, making speeches that were pointless.

Again, there was the shuffling of bags, a few words exchanged, and the group set forth again, Kenny by Stan's side… again.

Kyle picked up the pace to stride along Stan's other side. "They'll knock it off soon enough. Probably when we get back. It's gonna get lame soon enough."

"… what?"

"The gay jokes."

Kenny shrugged his shoulders. "I think it's funny as fuck."

"Kenny!" Kyle reprimanded.

"No, shut up. Think about it," he said, tugging the strings of his hood loose before pulling it away from his face, hand running through the mess of blonde hair. "Stan Marsh, all star quarterback, gay as gay can be. It's hilarious."

"Shut up, Kenny!" Kyle said. "It shouldn't matter whether Stan's gay or not."

"I never said it did. I just said I thought it was hilarious, which you can't deny… it IS hilarious. Talk about irony."

Kyle blinked. "Dude, when did you get a good vocabulary?"

"Librarian porn."

"... why am I not surprised."

Stan frowned, torso inclined forth as if it would make the load on his back lighter. "I just want to go home, get a shower, sleep, and pretend this never happened."

"You'd take being in the closet over just a few taunts?" Kenny asked.

"Just a few taunts?!"

"Kenny, dude, seriously, leave him alone," Kyle interrupted, again the peacemaker, as always. Always striving. Always something. Kennymerely shrugged his shoulders in response.

"If it were anyone else, he'd be laughing. You, too."

That point was brought up again and again. Stan couldn't argue it. Because, really, he would have laughed if it was anyone else and he was with the guys. They always laughed. It was always funny until it wasn't.

Seconds became minutes which became hours, and as their path became dark the bright glows of city lights shone, blinking in the night. Enthused, the group picked up their pace, eyes set on the nearest motel despite the "M" that was turned on its side nearly flickering out.

They'd be able to rest. Call home. Get rides. This mess would be over. Somewhat of a celebratory cheer erupted, Cartman gloating that it was due to his awesomely leadership skills that they found sanctuary. Stan, however, wasn't laughing. Backpack set on the ground, he quietly observed the people walking down the sidewalks. Army ants. Some sort of analogy like that.

"Hey guys! Over here!" Kyle yelled from a payphone. "I got through on collect, hold on."

Sheepherding, Stan thought next as he watched the group walk across the street, orbiting around the glass box housing the red-haired youth.

"Yes, hello, this is Kyle Broflovski and… what? No, we weren't able to play because the damn bus broke down after we hit like a dwarf or something."

"IT WAS A GNOME! OH JESUS CHRIST! AHH!" Tweek squealed loudly.

"Shut up, Tweek!" Kyle snapped, hand over the mouth piece for a second. "So yeah, I need you to get a new bus out here to pick us up. Uh huh. Oh uh…" Kyle paused again. "Anyone have any idea where we are?"

"We're in like, Idaho."

"Shut up, Cartman! We are NOT in Idaho!"

"Screw you, Jewface. I know Idaho when I see it, and this is Idaho! It reeks of potato and homo."

"… what?" Token blinked.

"Tch, don't you know," Cartman continued, eyes rolling once. "Idaho's famous for potatoes, and we have one homo here."

"Cartman, shut up about Stan being gay!" Kyle snapped before freezing, knuckles turning white on the phone. "No, Stan's not. That was just… we were goofing off. Look, just, can you get someone from the school to pick us up or something? Please? The sooner the better. Just like... I don't know, track down the call. There's a motel called Lucky Seven if that's any help. Scuzzy place but-" he paused. "Are you listening to a word I say? Okay, so you'll be here and- NO! You don't need to put up a Facebook status about Stan being gay, damn it!"

Kyle growled as he slammed the phone down. "God damn it." Eyes moved to the group. "We're supposed to get rooms at the motel and our parents will be here to pick us up tomorrow."

"And get food. I'm starving" Cartman protested. "C'mon Hurry up, you guys! I'm gonna die or something!"

"Guys, look. We need to get organized and make sure we don't go over budget," Token interfered warily. "As few rooms as possible."

"Fine by me." Stan lifted up his bag, shifting it into one hand rather than pull it over his shoulders. Before the others, he trudged toward the door. He slowed with the sensation of being followed, shoulders jerking with the light touch to them.

"Stan..?"

He sighed, non-responsive at first. "What?"

"You're not okay, are you?" Kyle paused, sighing. "Forget it. Let's just get a room, get something to eat, and get some sleep."

"You don't have to."

"Huh?"

"Share a room with me. I can get my own. Wouldn't want you to deal with the guys ripping on you."

"Stan!" Kyle closed his hand firmly around Stan's shoulder, turning his friend to face him. "I don't care. Seriously. I. Don't. Care. Once we get back to school, no one's going to remember this was even a joke. You'll see. You're still my best friend – why would I care what you like to stick it in better?"

They were silent a moment before laughing, Kyle's conclusion so ridiculous it couldn't help but lighten the mood. The sound was quiet at first, then building volume, a melodious tone accompanying it, breaking the tension of night under the steady humming over the flickering, overhead billboard "M" light above. For that moment, everything felt safe. They were two boys, two best friends, hanging out as they always did. Strange city amidst rowdy boys from a town in Colorado no one heard of.

Stan lifted a hand, allowing fingertips to brush against Kyle's cheek for a brief moment.

Kyle stopped laughing.

"Don't fuck with my friends!"

"Stan..?" Kyle uttered, shortness of a whisper as his friend inclined his head toward him. "What are you doing?"

"… Fuck." Stan pulled away from Kyle and turned his back.

"Stan?"

Stan didn't answer. He kept his head low as he walked away from the motel in the direction of the dim bar lights across the road.

"STAN!"

He closed his eyes. Soon he'd feel it, the hand on his arm, the voice beckoning him back, and he'd obey.

But that didn't come. Instead, he head voices drifting in the wind. Distinctive voices.

Clyde asked, "What just happened?"

Kyle's answer made Stan's stomach churn. "I think Stan was trying to kiss me."

Stan grit his teeth, the chattering behind him drowning out as he pressed a hand to the door of the bar and pushed it in. The boisterous banter of the drunks would be his company and, a twenty slapped down with a fake ID, the bottle of Moosehead would be too. Or the five bottles of it.

He wan't aware of a new presence coming until it sat next to him and said, "We need to talk."

"Look, Kyle-" Stan began, but he never finished.

It was Craig.

A/N:Hi everyone. Uh… yeah. Essentially, I fail for not editing this the way that I should have. I lost a lot of motivation for it due to some IRL issues that only now are getting resolved. That with the combination of school and everything… there was a lot of stress.

Thank you so much, those of you who have continued reading the story and been patient enough to wait for the next update. I really appreciate it immensely.