Here is the fourth chapter. This is kind of more of Stan's viewpoint than anything, but... it works. Hope you enjoy!

Oh. And... I kind of made a blog for stuff about this story when I'm not able to update and whatnot. Right now I've pretty much just posted facecasts, and even then those are just working ones. But if you wanna go check it out... you may do so. Expect random blurbs you may not understand, spoilers, and various other stuff that will usually always have to do with this story. Of course, more will come later. but... yeah! Check it out if you're bored. And if you yourself have facecasts I'd really, really like to know because then... I'd make that. So yeah, check it out if you want. The link is: bunnymcstotchkick . tumblr . com

Secrets Pt. 3- One Too Many PBRs and a Boxing Match

Thirteen year old Stan Marsh walked into his room after a long hot shower after a long hot day of football practice. All he wanted was to finish his history homework, eat dinner, and sleep. The events of his often eventful day had just been too much; while seeing Butters break Eric Cartman's nose was an amazing sight to see, there was a lot of drama after and Butters earned a week of detention. At least Kenny was there to spend it with him.

The black haired teen jumped as he saw a figure laying in his bed. He relaxed when recognizing the bright orange parka and hand-me-down tattered jeans that poked from under the blankets.

"Kenny, what the fuck? You're s'posed to be in detention." The lump in the bed stirred a little, and Stan was soon met with a pair of tired blue eyes looking up at him as the blonde was comfortably burrito-wrapped in Stan's blankets. His head poked up from the pillows and he slowly unrolled himself from the warmth.

Stan gave him a quizzical look and Kenny glanced to the window and shrugged. Stan sighed as he saw the window still half-way open and turned back to Kenny, who wore a Cheshire cat grin.

"Not anymore. Your front door was locked."

They had all gotten used to the fact that Kenny was pretty much a human cat and could scale practically any building with supernatural grace. The blonde boy was no stranger to sneaking into his friends' rooms to sleep. As long as their parents didn't find out, the boys kept going on with their sneaking.

"Oh, by the way... nice porn stash."

Stan blanched. Of course Kenny would find it sooner or later; he was fine with that. It just meant he saw…

"I take it you like twinks."

Stan's cheeks flushed darkly. He grabbed the magazine from Kenny, who flinched at his sudden movements, yet wore a silly smile.

"The fuck, dude?! You can't…"

"You left it layin' on your bed. Chill out, it's no big deal. I'm glad you don't like grizzlies though. Yeech," Kenny paused, shuddered, and sat up on Stan's bed. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs all the while wearing a warm smile as he looked to Stan. As much as he hated to admit it, Stan actually felt comfortable. "Talk to me."

Stan sighed heavily as Kenny pulled down his hood part way. A fat lip and cut was visible but he knew not to question or assume because Kenny got angry. Although he was shorter then him he had muscle and he could definitely throw a mean punch.

"What's to talk about? You found a gay porno mag. Nothing needs to be said." Kenny quirked an eyebrow.

"What about the Daniels?" He asked quietly.

Stan felt his stomach drop.

"It's not that bad… I hardly do it anymore." Kenny remained silent as Stan deflected; the black haired boy faltered under the gaze of Kenny's piercing eyes. "I have to, nothing is fun anymore; everything is just fucking shit and I just want… I like girls, dude. I can't be gay. I like boobs and long hair and soft skin… I don't need this stress. And drinking makes it go away."

Kenny felt he was the one talking. He got it. But Stan was lucky; yeah, he understood people have different stresses and stress levels but he had everything going for him. Kenny, on the other hand, would be dead soon by the rate his family was going; if he could stay dead, that is.

"You could be bi… it happens. Love the pussy and the cock. Wouldn't it be hot to do it with both at the same time?" Kenny asked, then gave an awkward chuckle. Stan eyed him warily, and his smile faded slightly, "Think about it. But… you could talk to Kyle. About the drinking, and the twink thing. You can't be an alcoholic star football player; it could really fuck you up. I'm the wrong person to tell you that. But dude, you've got a lot of shit going on but you're only gonna see shit if that's all you let yourself see. You gotta do something. And Kyle loves you and he'd be the best person to talk to. I can listen but I'm a fucking hypocrite so..."

"Have you ever said that much before?" Stan asked, Kenny rolled his eyes but smiled softly. "I can't tell Kyle, dude. He'd hate me." Kenny snorted, yet a thought crossed his mind. He grabbed the magazine from Stan again, which caused the taller boy to cry out but not actually harm him, and looked for bent page corners. He opened to the page that had the most wear and tear and smirked.

"Huh. He kinda looks like Kyle," the blonde chirruped, then turned the page so Stan could see. His dark haired friend's cheeks flared slightly and he shook his head.

"Bullshit."

"No, look! He's small, rockin' the fuck outta the innocent nerd look. Just lighten his skin and make his hair longer and red and give him green eyes and voila! An older Kyle." Stan's face was bright red now as he yanked the magazine from Kenny once again. He examined the page and quickly tossed it away from him. "But you knew that... didn't you?"

Stan remained silent and sat on the bed next to Kenny. He laid down and the blonde followed suit. They were all so used to sharing everything, including beds, so this was normal.

Kenny grinned slowly and much too evilly, which made Stan more than uncomfortable, and flipped over on his stomach. "Kyle and Stan… Kan. Nope, that's like me. Stan and Kyle… Style. Style! You two are Style!"

"Kenny!"

"Dude, I've been third-wheeling it since we were five. Let me have my fucking moment." Kenny paused and laughed quietly. Stan didn't exactly mind seeing his usually quiet friend like this; and he did have a point. He was kind of their third wheel. "Do you like him?"

"I don't know… I only ever liked Wendy. But Kyle doesn't make me want to puke." Kenny snickered. "I can't be on the football team and be gay. Or bi." The blonde shrugged his shoulders.

"So? They did it on that shitty Canadian show Karen watches." Stan rolled his eyes.

"That's "Degrassi", we're in South Park. Totally different." Kenny snorted and looked at Stan with amusement glowing in his eyes.

"The fact you know that is really fucking gay." He retorted. Stan groaned and sat up.

"Since when are you gossip central, dude? What kinda shit are you hiding behind that parka?" Stan asked. Kenny shrugged again.

Honestly, he had ran from home for the night and was willing up the courage to ask Stan to stay for the third night this week. Karen practically lived at the Tucker household now, so he didn't have to worry about her.

He had also had the very same conversation they were currently discussing with Kyle today, and Butters about a month ago. And it was not his fault he found that porno mag when he curled up under the blankets to nap. It raised a lot of questions and as one of Stan's very best friends he wanted to know things. Though he already did know a lot about a hell of a lot of people.

"I'm just trying to help, I dunno. Would it be okay if I chilled here tonight?"

"Again?" Kenny lowered his eyes and remained silent. "Fine, your parents at it again?" Kenny scoffed.

"No, they're fuckin' like there's no tomorrow," Stan cringed, "it's Stuart and Kevin. Can't fucking handle 'em."

Stan knew at this moment he was walking on eggshells… but in the weirdest and completely "Kenny" way Kenny had helped him. He, Kyle, and Butters as well as everyone and their grandmother knew something bad was happening down the road at the McCormick household. It was evident in their youngest children. No one had been invited over for nearly two years, not that they ever went anyway. No one, not even Butters, was able to get anything out of Kenny.

Except maybe now. But Stan knew it was risky.

"Handle what?"

"It's Kevin and my dad, what the fuck do you think?" Kenny grumbled and subconsciously wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Soon he would pull up his hoodie. So Stan just chuckled softly.

"One too many PBRs and a boxing match?" Stan asked in a way that sounded as if he were joking; he was totally serious. Kenny's eyes flashed with emotion- was that fear?- and quickly turned.

"I can't believe Stuart and Kyle's dad were best friends. Completely fucked up. I mean…" Kenny trailed off, then shook his head. His chapped skeletal fingers poked out of his sleeves and tugged lightly on the strings of his parka. Stan knew he was getting in the defensive mode Butters had told them about.

"Kenny, you can talk if you want… I won't tell a soul. Not even Kyle." Kenny looked up through long greasy blonde locks.

"Can I take a shower?" Stan sighed and nodded; well that was over.

"Yeah, I'll get you some clothes too." Kenny shrugged and darted out of the room.

Stan lost him. He didn't understand Kenny; but no one really did. The kid was a fucking martyr; too selfless, humble, too self-conscious, and had no self esteem where it mattered. He was a great guy. It sucked he was from such a shitty family but his sister idolized him and he had enough potential to make a much better name for himself. Everyone loved him except himself. Stan couldn't grasp why he couldn't ask for help. Was he too proud? Too scared? Too protective of his family? They didn't deserve him.

The black haired boy pulled out his phone and opened up his messaging app. He quickly typed in "Kyle" and "Butters" and sent out a quick message.

To: Kyle, Butters:

Sent: 7:38 P.M.

Dude kennys here again.

He waited a few moments and his phone buzzed quietly. He glanced at it.

From Butters:

Received: 7:38 P.M.

Is he okay?

To Butters:

Sent: 7:39 P.M.

Yeah i tried to talk but he clammed up again. What do i do?

Only Butters understood Kenny; maybe he'd know how to get through to him.

From Kyle:

Received: 7:39 P.M.

Holy shit again?! Wasn't he there Tuesday?

To Kyle:

Sent: 7:39 P.M.

Yup. Hes not talking either. Well kinda. Said its his dad and bro.

The next text he received was from Butters, which read, "the last time I tried to find out what was wrong he left. Was he bloody?" Stan stared at it and raised an eyebrow; bloody? That was new. But Stan actually wasn't quite sure; he always wore that stupid orange parka. He didn't respond to that text, and instead opened the new message he received.

From Kyle:

Received 7:40 P.M

Well duh his mom's always working. Need me to come over?

To Kyle:

Sent: 7:41 P.M.

Maybe will let you know.

Then he opened the message from Butters and quickly sent a simple response of, "no, why?". Stan heard the hall floor creak and he looked up in alarm. He set his phone down and quickly grabbed his history book in case it was Kenny; he could always tell when something was going on. As the door opened, he was greeted by the sight of aforementioned boy with a towel around his waist and dripping hair.

"Dude, you need to cut your hair," Stan commented yet found himself staring at his small body. He felt sick. Stan could see every bone in Kenny's ribcage; he had no fat on his body whatsoever. Dark bruises and welts were littered all over his body, and a black eye suddenly appeared.

"Shut the fuck up, do you have any… what?" Kenny trailed off uneasily and looked down at himself.

"Kenny, what the hell?" Stan asked in a gentle voice. The blonde just shrugged his shoulders, quietly chuckled and grabbed the basketball shorts and ribbed tank top Stan had grabbed out for him.

"Kevin and I were just messing around, chill." Kenny mumbled as he sat down and wriggled into the baggy shirt. Stan gave him a look and carefully texted Kyle.

To Kyle:

Sent: 7:44 P.M.

bruises everywhere.

"Looks more like Kevin beat the shit outta you," Kenny scoffed in response and slipped into the basketball shorts Stan lended him.

"You should see him. And thanks," the blonde replied and pointed to the clothes on him; the shirt was baggy and he had to pull at the shorts to keep them at his waist. Stan shrugged his shoulders and waited impatiently for Kyle to text him back.

"I'm gonna make myself some dinner, want anything?" Stan asked as he stood up; Kenny remained silent as he folded the damp towel. The black haired boy left with a sigh; he'd get Kenny some leftovers. He wouldn't eat anything from his house if it wasn't an ignored meal from two days prior.

As he walked down the stairs he pulled out his phone and saw he had an unread message from Butters.

From: Butters

Received: 7:45 p.m.

Forget I said anything.

To: Butters

Sent: 7:45 p.m.

He has bruises everywhere. Said it was kevin.

The football player made his way to his empty kitchen and opened the fridge. His dad was working late tonight, same with his mom, and Shelly was at some student council meeting, then was going to hang out with a friend so she wouldn't be back until later that night. That meant it was "fend for yourself" night. His family rarely had dinner together anymore.

Stan popped a Hot Pocket in the microwave and put a sheet of fries in the stove; he hated fried food. He looked at the last pepperoni Hot Pocket in the freezer and grabbed it for Kenny. He also grabbed the container of meat loaf and mashed potatoes; if Kenny didn't eat it he probably would.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he opened the message.

From: Kyle

Received: 7:47 p.m.

Wtf? He say why?

From: Stan

Sent: 7:49 p.m.

Said he and kevin were messing around. Bullshit.

The microwave dinged and he grabbed out the container. The Hot Pockets were on their own plate and he managed to grab two bottled teas before running up the stairs.

"Kenny, I got you a-" Stan trailed off as he found the small boy fast asleep on his bed. He contemplated on not waking him but he knew that he probably hadn't eaten in days and was a walking skeleton; he looked like Death in orange.

Stan gently shook his shoulder which caused Kenny to jolt awake and gasp before he pulled away from Stan's arm. He relaxed when recognizing the black haired boy and yawned.

"Sorry, how long was I out?" Stan shrugged and sat down next to the blonde and offered him the food. Kenny took it all without hesitation and managed to finish off the fries and Hot Pocket in what seemed like mere seconds.

"Thanks dude," Kenny said with his mouth full. Stan just nodded and took a bite out of his Hot Pocket.

"Well, thanks for… talking to me about… you know, being bi or whatever." Stan finally admitted. Kenny simply smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "So did you and Kevin play extreme football?" As he spoke, Stan swore he could feel all of the joy leave the room in an icy chill.

"No," Kenny murmured with a laugh as he wrapped his arms around his stomach and belched. Stan held up six fingers and Kenny grinned. "Stuart and Kevin were boxing."

Stan looked at him curiously. He remembered he had jokingly suggested that earlier yet he didn't think they would actually box. With Stuart and Kevin McCormick it would be more of a "who knocks who out faster?" kind of deal.

"So you took winner?" Kenny scoffed and laughed to himself before shaking his head.

"Ha, no..." Kenny trailed off, then scratched at his hands subconsciously, "I was the practice punching bag."

Stan's eyes looked from Kenny's hands to his eyes and searched for that ever-present glimmer of humor. He expected him to laugh and say he was kidding. But as he looked at one of his closest and best friends, who was more like a brother, he realized the lack of eye contact and grimace meant he wasn't joking.

So it was true. What he, Kyle, and Butters thought all along was fact. He had to do something; Kenny had to get out of that house.

He looked at his friend, and at his own hands, Stan felt sick. Because, deep down, he knew there was nothing he could do. Who would believe a thirteen year old boy? Who would honestly want to take the time to listen to him and help the poorest family in South Park?

He understood how Kenny felt and why he didn't talk about it. Because the world was shitty and the people were shitty and no one would give a shit anyway. And it made him sick.