Author Note: Huge thanks to Hot Soup11, let's point out the obvious, Andatariel.x, D. McVetty and xxSay for the lovely reviews! I'm aware of how slow I seem to be updating lately, but I'm horrifically busy at work right now, not to mention socially in demand for some reason. There are only three more chapters left of this story after this one, two of which are already written and the last one, which isn't. Gonna have to get to work with that one, heh heh.

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A little voice inside my head says don't look back, you can never look back...

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Stan remains sitting in Ike's hotel room and although Ike knows Stan cannot help him more with what really happened to Kyle the night he died, he has some urge, almost a need, to force Stan to speak to Kenny. Both men are so utterly alone and he knows in his heart it doesn't have to be that way. Maybe after all this time they can at least talk – but Ike is also aware he can't force the issue. He hasn't seen Stan for ten years and he knows that simple demand or cajolement would be met with suspicion or an outright dismissal. It might even make Stan decide to avoid Kenny... although since he has finally made the pilgrimage home, Ike thinks that would be a horrible waste.

Instead, he tries to direct the conversation back. He thinks that some good memories might help Stan, but more than that, he wants to know. He is wildly curious as to how the three teenage boys managed to actually decide upon their odd relationship and how they had managed to make it last, probably there is no easy answer to the last one but he thinks understanding that might help him better understand his brother. And there is more; at the moment he feels as if Kyle were the catalyst for the entire relationship, that both Kenny and Stan loved him, but didn't love each other nearly as much. Not if Kyle's death had torn them apart. He doesn't want to think that way though, because if Kyle was all the two had together, then Kyle had been wrong about the relationship too... and the fallout from it had been his fault.

"I don't see how you guys went from one stoned make-out session to actual boyfriends," he says slowly, taking in Stan's expression. The man's expression changes a little, from wistful to a little amused and Ike knows he's on the right track. "I mean, I'd have thought you'd have laughed it off and never mentioned it again. So who suggested you were all lovers?" He wrinkles his nose a little at the word in relation to his brother, this time Stan chuckles. "I bet it was Kenny."

Stan shakes his head. "Ken was the one who tried to laugh it off actually. That night, yeah we were just messing around and we probably could have chalked it up to experience and moved on the next day, but..." He shrugs. "No one wanted that. We weren't sure what we were getting into but I knew what I wanted and I guess those guys had made up their minds too. Not that they were of the same mind of course. About what they wanted, yeah. About what happened next – not quite."

Stan blinks his eyes open, aware that he is feeling very groggy and that there is a warm body pressed against his. His arm is thrown over them and he thinks back to the previous night. It doesn't take a lot of recollect. The three of them had planned to smoke a little pot, feeling very rebellious and adult for doing so in Stan's parents' house and then they had...

Well, the three of them had found themselves in an embrace of soft lips and searching hands. Together, at the same time. He had kissed Kyle, he had kissed Kenny. He had caressed them while they kissed each other and felt their fingers tracing the lines of his own flesh.

And now it is morning and they are all sober. And he knows too well that nothing can be the same ever again between them – but he doesn't know if this is for the better or the worse.

It is Kyle that his arm is over, the redhead on his back, an arm thrown over his head, eyes closed. There is a second arm on Kyle's stomach and touching his own, lightly dusted with fine blonde hairs. Kenny.

Stan leans up cautiously, so as not to disturb the sleeping Kyle and sees that Kenny is awake already. Their eyes meet and Kenny raises his eyebrows slightly, trying to look nonchalant but there is a flat light of concern there. Kenny never was good at hiding his emotions.

"Morning," says Stan quietly, trying to keep it low for Kyle's sake.

"Morning," replies Kenny with a small smile. "Some night, huh?"

"No shit." Stan doesn't quite know what to say. He wants for things to be as they were, the three of them best friends. But he doesn't want to forget what happened either. He just doesn't see how they can work things clear from this. So he decides to go the comfort route and emphasise his main thought right away, so no matter what happens this morning, they both know where he stands. "No regrets?"

"Are you kidding?" Kenny's smile widens and Stan catches the relief in his face. "None at all." He shifts slightly, taking his arm from Kyle and looking down at the boy's face. Kyle's brow has creased slightly and Stan can tell he is on the verge of waking, although he doesn't seem to want to be dragged from his dreams. Or maybe he misses Kenny's arm over him.

Kenny looks back at Stan again, his smile slightly wistful. "I guess you and Kyle are gonna get together after this, huh? I mean, you're not gonna both pretend nothing happened, right?"

Stan blinks in confusion. The thought of being with Kyle fills him with a nervous, happy anticipation – but he does not see where there is a role for Kenny in that. And he knows that although he wants Kyle, of course he does, he wants Kenny just as much. It worries him. Shouldn't wanting to be with another person, man or woman, mean forsaking all others? So if he is yearning for both of them, does that mean he does not love either enough?

But he does love them and it aches to think of him choosing one over the other. He is not sure if it is a romantic love, but he does know that he would live and die for either of them. For both of them.

"We're not gonna pretend – well, I'm not," says Stan hesitantly. "But I don't know what you're trying to say. What about you?"

"What about me?" Kenny never loses that small smile. "You two were made for each other, everyone knows it. I'm not getting in the way of that. Although I was pretty glad to kick-start it."

"You don't want to..." Stan doesn't know how to finish the sentence and honestly, he feels as if he has been punched in the gut. He was scared of facing the reaction, but he has still not adequately prepared himself.

Kyle opens his eyes and focuses on Kenny, his frown deepening. He speaks over Stan and anything else he might have said is lost to Kyle's apparent outrage. "Kenny McCormick, are you stepping aside?"

Kenny look slightly taken aback by the way Kyle says it – he sounds affectionate and pissed off at the same time and Stan can relate. Kenny is doing what he thinks is the right thing and his whole life, Kenny has drawn the short straw. He assumes that they do not want him as much as they want each other and does not even begrudge them that.

Kyle sits up, taking Stan's hand and lacing their fingers so that he too has to sit up. Kyle pulls their joined hands to his stomach so that Stan has an arm around him. Like a couple, united, Kyle's back against Stan's chest, both of them facing Kenny.

"What Stan was trying to say, asshole," says Kyle, his voice exasperated but still overlaid with that true caring. "Is that no one wants you to step aside. I don't want to lose you – either of you." He looks back at Stan, defiance in his eyes, then to Kenny again.

Kenny sits up, more slowly, eyes looking at the sheets and not at them. "Kyle. It doesn't work like that."

"Why can't it work like that? Because couples are more usual? So fucking what?"

Kyle looks over his shoulder to Stan again, silently asking for confirmation that they are both in agreement. Stan does not even have to think it over; he gives a single nod and Kyle gives him a smile that is pure warmth before turning back to Kenny and cupping his jaw in his hand.

"Kenny. Do you want to be with us?"

"Yes~"

Kyle's lips cut off any protestation that Kenny might have been about to make. Stan can see the way Kenny mentally throws in the towel, relaxing into the kiss and returning it. Kyle keeps it soft and loving, pulling away shortly after and giving him a smile. Kenny returns it, looking over at Stan with something akin to delighted disbelief in his eyes. Stan muses that the look on his own face probably mirrors it as he puts his hand on the back of Kenny's head and pulls him closer so they can kiss over Kyle's shoulder, briefly but with clear affection, both of them smiling into it.

Kyle settles back against the headboard, Stan joining him a moment later and leaning comfortably against him. A few seconds after that, Kenny does the same thing, chuckling happily. "Oh boy. What have you guys got me into this time?"

"A threesome," says Stan with a smirk. Kenny gives an amused snort of laughter. "I would have thought that was just what you always wanted Ken."

"I dream of it every night and twice on Sundays," says Kenny gravely, that smile still twitching the corners of his mouth. "Heh, threesome. Just sounds... like a porn video."

"A polyamorous relationship," says Kyle almost primly, although he's chuckling as well.

"That sounds like a phrase from a science essay," protests Kenny. "How about a ménage a trois?"

"Day trip to a French zoo," replies Stan immediately.

Kyle laughs, nudging Stan with his shoulder. Stan nudges back, football training meaning he can do so twice as hard and Kyle almost dislodges Kenny from the bed. Kenny tries to get Stan back by shoving Kyle back into him and before long, they are involved in a silly play fight that is like countless ones they have had before, ending up in a laughing heap on the bed, meeting each other's eyes with the secret they share shining in them.

Stan bites his lip, worrying the skin before speaking abruptly. "I lied. Kenny didn't break it off because of what happened with Kyle. Not entirely, I mean he was feeling guilty as hell and I knew he blamed himself but... I didn't know what to do. I was struggling with my own grief and we couldn't even really be alone to talk about it, y'know? Not with me in the hospital. They let me out for the funeral and man, were they pissed about doing that, but even there – I never really got a chance to talk to Kenny without someone being able to hear us. And we were worried about what people might think of Kyle, or us. Kenny had dropped out of school by then, never went back after the game and it was pretty obvious I was going to finish my GED in Denver, but Ken still lived in town. So we skirted around it. We talked in code and some things, you just can't say like that."

He sighs. "I could tell Ken he shouldn't blame himself all I wanted, but I never could sit him down and point out every single reason why not and how much I didn't blame him and how much I still loved him. We told each other that all the time, the three of us. I guess he was used to hearing it and when he didn't..." He shrugs. "He knew why not, but it probably didn't help."

Stan takes a deep breath, continues. "He got into fights. I saw him after Kyle died and he told me a bit about what happened, but it was like it didn't matter much to him and I guess considering what happened to Kyle, it probably didn't. But it fucked him up, not being able to protect Kyle that night. He felt like he'd failed I guess. So he'd leave the hospital and go to a bar or where ever, I dunno. Someplace rough. And he'd take people on and come to visit the next day with some new bruise or injury. I kept telling him to cool it. I knew he was angry, I knew he was acting out, but he was all I had and I was scared that one day..."

Ike feels realisation dawning on him. "One day he'd die?"

Stan nods. "And then there was a day he didn't show up for visiting hours. Or the next day, or the next. My parents didn't know for sure what had happened but we could all guess and I sorta thought they might be keeping it from me. I was madder than hell about it and scared and – oh, I guess it brought back too many memories and fears. Kyle hadn't been dead much more than a month by then. And I kept thinking, I can't do this again."

He leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose in a gesture so familiar that Ike has an uncanny sense of déjà vu. "And then about ten days later, the door opens and in he walks. Good as new. I just looked at him and when he gave me that smile, that one he always had, I threw the fucking book I'd been pretending to read right at him. Hit him between the eyes and he staggered back and he wasn't smiling anymore. And we'd been through this before, how much his dying always scared me and I think – I think he knew."

"You were going to end things." Ike's voice is flat with disbelief. "It wasn't him who couldn't deal with it. It was you."

"I couldn't have ended it with Kenny," replies Stan, smiling sadly. "But I couldn't deal with him dying either. Not after Kyle. And when Kenny died, it was Kyle who kept me sane. Without Kyle – well, I'd have gone mad after a while. And Kenny, he knew it. He told me right then, maybe it'd be better for me to make a fresh start in Denver, once I got out of the hospital to just – get on with whatever came my way. He was so fucking calm about it. And I just accepted it. Let him walk away, even though it wasn't what he wanted to do. I could have changed things, I could have begged him not to go and he never would have done, but I didn't say a word. Even though there was a voice in my head screaming at me, saying this is the worst mistake you'll ever make and you know it, I just let it go."

He shakes his head, looking at the floor. "That voice in my head, it spoke in Kyle's voice. But I was too... tired. Kenny was the only thing I had left and I was too damn tired to fight for him. I couldn't face being hurt again, so I cut myself off from the only thing that ever could. And I hid myself away." He laughs a little, without humour. "That same voice sometimes says to me, go find him. You know where he is. And I've always been too scared – until now. And even now, I don't know if I can face him."

"Stan..." Ike wonders how it feels to be Stan, to have reached breaking point so long ago and never really put himself back together again. "I spoke to Kenny already, he said – he only ever said good things about you. He still loves you, I know he does. But he lied to me. He said he was the one who let you down, he was the one who couldn't deal with things anymore. I just don't know why he lied."

"Because he's still protecting me." Stan looks up at Ike, but there is something new in his blue eyes, some flare of hope. "Even after all this time and what I did, he still doesn't want you to think I let him down."

"Or doesn't want to remember that you did." Ike looks Stan square in the eye. "He's still holding on to what you both had. What you all had. He's never let it go. That memory, it's the only good thing he still has left."

Stan shrugs, reaches for his cane. "I guess that makes two of us." He takes the cane, uses it to pull himself up. "Look. I'm staying with my Uncle Jimbo for a couple of days. I'll leave you my number, I don't think I can help you but – look, if you find anything let me know. Or come tell me before you leave town. It'd be good to touch base with you, y'know?"

"I know." Ike puts Stan's number into his phone and looks at the cane, thinks of the long walk out to where Jimbo lives, or at least used to live. "Let me give you a ride there."

Stan's lips quirk into a smile. "I can't help thinking that you're gonna offer to let me stand on the back of your Big Wheels or something. Seeing you grown-up is – strange." He shakes his head. "But I've got my own car a couple blocks from here. I left it there while I went for a look around town again. I'm not sure how I ended up at Kenny's." He smirks. "My feet just took me there."

He leaves without saying goodbye and Ike stares at the door for a long time after he leaves, thinking that of all the people who have returned to town that weekend, Stan Marsh seems to have fallen the furthest even if he is doing okay in any other sense. Then he shakes the thought, checks his watch. He has the time to shower and change his clothes, and then he thinks he will go to the bar and meet up with Keiran.

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The day is starting to fade as Ike walks into the bar, wondering if all over town his brothers old classmates are readying themselves for the big reunion taking place that night. But he knows of at least three people who will not be there, and he decides now that he will be another one not attending. It was not his class, they were not his friends and he knows that there is no one there who will have any of the answers. The reunion might have finally pulled the players back to town, but the others that he would see there will not have anything new to tell him.

The drunk that he saw the previous day is at the bar again and Ike tenses slightly, but the sight of Keiran already sat at their table, two drinks in front of him, makes Ike forget entirely about the man. He gives a wide smile, heading over to his old friend and new lover, honestly pleased to see him. It lifts the depression that settled over him over the course of the day, making him feel for the first time in hours like there is more to this town than prejudice and death.

"Got you a drink," says Keiran without preamble, a matching smile on his face that grows slightly concerned as he looks at Ike. "Did you find out anything from what's-his-name, Clint?"

"Clyde." Ike's expression darkens. "Yeah. They beat the holy hell out of Kenny, but weren't even in South Park when Kyle died. I talked to Kenny as well... and Stan. Stan's here. It's like, everyone who might have been involved came back to town at the same time. This reunion, I think it pulled us all back but – it's the excuse, not the reason."

"What did they tell you?"

Ike worries at his lip for a moment, then looks at Keiran again, wishing that he had a lip ring like the other mans that he could play with when he's deep in thought. "Kyle was at Kenny's house until about an hour before he died. And he showered there, that's why they never found Kenny's DNA on him anywhere. When he left, he was madder than hell, threatening to do something to the whole team, only he died before he could do anything. And that's – the end. Kenny didn't know anything else, nor did Stan. It's like he walked out of the door and just showed up dead." He reaches out and takes his drink, having a small sip while he muses on what comes next.

"Stan told me a few things, about how the three of them got together and what they meant to each other. Now I know what happened." Ike's voice is soft. "I know what was going on with Kyle before he died, I know – I know he was happy. It's just..."

He struggles to articulate just what the problem really is. "I found out what I came to learn, but it's just left me with other mysteries. I feel like I know my brother better, but it makes what happened to him even more inexplicable. I mean, I know he was happy until that day and determined as hell to see all three of them through whatever came next, that's suicide out. The guys that hurt Stan and Kenny, they weren't around town even and they can prove it, so that's murder out. But there was no reason for him to be where he was – there was every reason for him to be far away from there. So an accident doesn't make any sense."

Keiran reaches across the table, takes his hand. "Ike. Perhaps something came up once he left Kenny's that led him up there. A prank call even, if the team were making calls to Kyle that night, could be one of them said they'd meet him up there or something just to get him into the cold and laugh at the thought of him waiting. The others wouldn't have to even know about it. There could be all kinds of reasons that we haven't considered. Things aren't always solved the way we want them to be."

"Yeah." Ike looks over the table at him and smiles. Although it is rather shaky, it is also very genuine. "And I didn't come here with any illusions about finding out what really happened that night."

"Although you were kinda hoping."

Ike looks rueful. "Am I that transparent?"

"No." Keiran smiles, tightens his hold on Ike's hand. "I just know that even if you knew it was unlikely that anything new would show up, you were holding out some hope. Especially given that you were turning up all kinds of secrets."

Looking down, Ike smiles. "Yeah. I always had this daydream; I'd go back to South Park someday and find out what really happened. Look at the site and turn up some new evidence that would retell the whole story. Then I'd be able to work around what happened to Kyle, without always wondering what really happened. Without all the damn questions. I got what I came for – hah, more than I bargained for. But I was still kinda holding on to that dream."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ike gives a small smile. "I've learned more about my brother, the kind of guy he was – exactly the kind of guy I thought he was. That people really did love him and he changed lives, the way I always knew he would. That I wasn't the only one affected – yeah, I know that sounds selfish. I really hope Stan sticks around long enough for... never mind. The questions are still there and I might have found out more about what didn't happen to him than what did. But the really big questions are answered. Because wondering if your brother killed himself, or if the person who killed him is still out there, those are the things that keep you up at night. And the things I've found out, maybe they won't do anymore."

A shadow falls on the table and Ike looks up to see the drunk from the bar standing over them, a sloppy grin on his face. Momentarily Ike is afraid, he wonders if the man has come to start shit with them for holding hands. It would not be the first time such a thing has happened to him. He expects some loud 'gay-boy' joke, followed by a few sneers, causing a scene while Ike wishes himself into a hole somewhere.

But Keiran seems unworried by the man's presence. "Hi Stuart."

"Hey, um, kid." Stuart clearly does not recall Keiran's name and it is not he who is the focus of attention, his gaze goes back to Ike. "I jus' wanted to say hi to Ike, tell him to remember me to his old man. Me and Gerald were best friends back when we were kids. Always hoped he was okay, where ever he is now."

Ike looks at the man and suddenly, connections fire up in his mind. It's the eyes more than anything. Those blue eyes, faded and threaded with red, but familiar. The same eyes that he had looked into that morning, when he visited Kenny.

"Mr. McCormick?" Ike can scarcely believe it, Stuart always had a problem but he had not expected this decline. His own father is made old before his time but Stuart appears even older than that, years of hard drinking taking their toll. And then another thought occurs. "You called Ken and told him I was back."

Stuart nods, quite carefully and Ike wonders how long Stuart has been drinking in this bar today. He is not falling-over drunk, but he is clearly close. "Kenny went through hell back then," he says, a slight frown on his face. "I didn't want him to get you on his doorstep without warning. He woulda freaked. And he didn't need you to accuse him neither. It's like I told the police, he didn't do nothin' to Kyle."

Ike regards him candidly, of the same mind but curious all the same. "How can you be so sure?"

"Well, I told 'em!" Stuart gestures with a hand. "I said, I was on my way home from this shit-hole and I saw Kyle right out there on the street. And Kenny was still at home, sleepin' like a baby."

"Wait, no one mentioned this." Ike frowns, but he can see why Stuart wouldn't make a credible witness, what with his probable drunkenness on the night and that Kenny was suspected of having something to do with what happened. "You saw Kyle?"

"Yeah." Stuart frowns, trying to remember. "Hard to make a mistake, what with that hair and how he was always hangin' around with Kenny. I'd know it was him anyplace. He was talkin' to some guy, or girl coulda been. Stood by some minivan, chattin' away."

"A minivan." Ike can feel his heart starting to beat faster. "What did it look like? Did he get in?"

Stuart shrugs. "Didn't see him get in," he said absently. "Uh, it was blue. Or green? Maybe grey. Somethin' dark. Remember thinkin' it was some old model hybrid. I just noticed it and headed home. Didn't know it was gonna be important." He makes a staggering step away from the table. "I gotta piss."

"Wait, Mr. McCormick," says Ike hurriedly, a sudden certainty building in him. "Did you tell Kenny?"

Stuart considers it, shrugs. "I dunno. Didn't like to talk about Kyle after that. I knew how much that boy meant to my boy and I thought it might be best if he jus' – got over it. Not that he ever did." He gives a smile and makes his way slowly, carefully, to the bathroom.

Keiran tightens his grip on Ike's hand, as if to get his attention. "What's up Ike? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

Ike's gaze goes back to Keiran, but it is clear that his mind is not really there. "In this town," he says slowly. "What's one more ghost?"