Stan found himself in the second to last class of the day. He had just claimed a desk of his own. He didn't recognize most of his classmates but this was an elective class so the freshman and upper-class men were mixed in. He knew none of the seventh or eighth graders could take the class until their ninth-grade year.

Still, he wasn't quite prepared when he saw Kenny and Cartman walk through. They all instantly spotted each other and the other two made their way over while Stan silently wondered if Cartman and Kenny had every single class together. He couldn't bring himself to ask, he was too weirded out. Stan was thankful this teacher didn't make them all stand up and introduce themselves. He wondered if that was because of Kenny's presence or was this art teacher just eccentric enough to not really care what everyone's names were.

"Stan, you would take art," Cartman teased shaking his head.

"What the hell does that mean? You're here, too." Stan shook his head not really understanding what Cartman even meant. He looked over at Kenny who had been staring down at the desk but was startled when he met his eyes. The intensity couldn't be missed, Stan's spirits lifted, if only a little. This was progress as far as he was concerned. This morning Kenny couldn't even look at him but now he had looked at him three whole times today! And even spoken two words to him!

Stan looked down suddenly realizing how totally bizarre his internal monologue had become. He wasn't sure how long he stared at the desk but he was brought back by a gentle kick to his feet. His eyes snapped up to meet Kenny's concerned ones. He realized they each had a blank sheet of paper in front of them, Kenny and Cartman had already been working on theirs while Stan's was blank. Stan offered a half-smile to Kenny and grabbed his pencil to start creating his own work. It looked like they were just making nameplates. He guessed the teacher did need to know names after all.

Ω

"Hey man," Kyle greeted his friend as he approached Stan at their locker. "Have you seen Cartman?" Stan shook his head in response.

"Not since art class. I'm not sure what his last period was." Stan paused for a second before asking, "Do you know if, like, do Cartman and Kenny have every class together?"

Kyle raised his eyebrows before frowning and shrugging. "Who knows, dude? At this point, I wouldn't be surprised. It's like Kenny just came back from the dead. A lot of people are pretty freaked out about it. Even some of the teachers seem really weirded out by it."

"Really?" Stan asked adjusting his book bag.

Kyle gave him an odd look. "Yeah, haven't you heard some of the stuff people have been saying? It's really terrible. A lot of Karen and Kevin's friends are still super fucking angry. I'm worried for him with what happened this morning," Kyle said glancing down the hallway as if he was concerned that someone might be eavesdropping.

Stan fiddled with the straps on his book bag thinking back to earlier in the day the words he had heard in the hallways. Would that constitute as bullying? Would it matter if it did? Some kids had already attacked their friend and it didn't seem like a whole lot had been done to his knowledge. What could the one school counselor do and the dozens of unsure teachers that didn't want to lose their jobs and probably had to hop over a million hoops to get anything done. If someone reported all this to children's services would Kenny be put in a foster home again? Would a social worker even bother? Where did Kenny even live? A hand appeared inches away from Stan's eyes, snapping its fingers.

"Earth to Stan!" Kyle exclaimed snapping his fingers. "Are you with us?"

Cartman seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Stan, you must be the world's biggest space cadet."

The insult from Cartman brought Stan back and he blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Take me to your leader!"

"What the fuck, Stan?" Kyle asked rolling his eyes. "Don't feed into him."

Cartman rolled his eyes, too. "Have you two seen Kenny?"

Kyle looked ready to reply with a snide comment but bit his lip. Stan shook his head. "Not since art."

Cartman shrugged. "Okay, I guess I'll make sure he's not still here then head out."

Kyle inhaled sharply, no longer able to bite his tongue. "What is he? Like your pet? Are you his social worker that you need to be attached to him? The dude just appeared out of nowhere in four years and you're his personal bodyguard?" Confused, he snapped at Cartman, it was like the world had been turned a little upside down. He liked order, not this excessive amount of disorder Cartman and Kenny introduced.

"Oh, Kahl, I didn't know you cared so much. You're so jealous!" Cartman beamed obviously enjoying the attention. "It's okay, I'll still make time to rag on you and your Jewness."

"Fuck you, Cartman."

Stan had started zoning out again before tuning back into what was going on around him. God, maybe Cartman was right about him, too. Hearing Kyle rapid-fire question Cartman reminded him of his own question. "Cartman, where is Kenny living? With you?"

"No," Cartman said. "I offered but he usually just hangs out behind the old Target building where some of the hiking trails are." The Target had closed some years ago and nothing had been done with it.

"And some other homeless hang out," Kyle added. "How long have you known where he was?"

"Just a couple weeks," Cartman insisted getting annoyed at Kyle's accusatory looks and tone. "I haven't known for the past four years if that's what you're getting at." He paused, thinking of something. "I'm scared if he disappears again it will be forever. He's my best friend," he said showing the rare vulnerability that sometimes shone through his sociopathic exterior at times and made some second guess if he actually was a sociopath.

"Only a couple weeks ago?" Kyle asked skeptically.

Cartman put his hands out in a defeated manner. "Yes. Do you always have to think the worst of me? I think he was living in the woods before that, I'm not really sure."

Stan didn't really pay attention to anything else as he turned around and started towards the main exit.

"Stan! Where are you going?" Kyle called after him.

"Leave him alone, Stan!" Cartman shouted interrupting Kyle mid-sentence.

"I'm going home!" Stan yelled over his shoulder, picking up his pace before they intervened and stopped him.

"Liar!" The other two called out in unplanned unison. Stan simply held up a hand and waved. Imagining Kenny hanging out behind the desolate old Target building was saddening. What was he doing there? Why wouldn't Kenny want to stay at Cartman's?

Stan could understand not being able to handle Cartman all day and then at the house afterward but, damn, even Kyle would probably choose to stay in a house with Cartman than behind an old building with no water, air conditioning, heat, bathroom, food... what was Kenny eating? Grass? Could you even eat grass? There were hiking trails near the Target building so maybe there were berries there? There couldn't be that many plants sprouting out of the cement parking lot that was rarely used save for kids just learning how to drive or kids screwing with skateboards.

Ω

Stan made his way through downtown South Park at a brisk pace. He was worried for Kenny. Cartman's words still rang in his ears. I'm scared if he disappears again it will be forever.

And then he shuddered when he recalled the next words. I think he was living in the woods before. Had Kenny really been just a stone's throw away all these years? Why had he allowed Cartman to find him? If he didn't want to be found Stan had no doubt that he wouldn't have been found.

His feet brought him to the parking lot Cartman had talked about. He went around to the back of the building and found Kenny laying on the bench of one of the run-down picnic tables that employees had likely used for breaks. He was laying on his back, eyes staring up at the clouds. Stan slowly approached him not wanting to frighten him. "Kenny...?"

Kenny turned his head a little but said nothing turning his attention back to the clouds in the sky. Stan inched closer since Kenny hadn't made any protests and even seemed to expect him to. He got closer and closer finding himself more and more concerned with how skinny Kenny was.

There were also a few other things that set off alarm bells in his head. The needles that littered the blacktop being the number one thing but he couldn't tell if they were from Kenny or if some junkies had been in the area. Or maybe Kenny was a junkie, too? Stan didn't know but right now he didn't care.

His shadow loomed over Kenny and he looked down at his friend who met his eyes. It was much easier to see Kenny's face now, with his hair behind his head, hood off, and no one around to distract either of them. The clouded blue eyes, the mouth quirked down, the bags under his eyes, the sallowness of his face. Stan wasn't sure what to say but as he mulled over everything that had taken place that day one thing stuck out to him the most: the way Kenny reacted to human contact.

Stan steeled himself and hoped he was asking the right question. "Kenny, before today when was the last time someone hugged you?" He recalled Tweek's hug and Kenny's stiff reaction. Kenny's face contorted into anguish and Stan felt ice in his heart at the response.

"Karen."

Stan found himself staring down at his friend in shock and horror, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Tears were already sliding down his friend's cheeks. It took a few moments before Stan could find his voice. "Oh, Kenny, I'm so, so, so sorry, I'm so sorry," Stan apologized as he reached down to pull his friend up into a hug. No wonder Kenny had responded so strangely to the contact.

Kenny allowed himself to be pulled into the hug as Stan sat on the bench to more comfortably pull him into a much needed hug. Kenny's whole body shook and he clung tightly to Stan burying his face against his shoulder. The clothes on his shoulder were getting wet and Kenny's crying only got louder and worse. Stan had never felt so helpless and he rubbed his friend's back hoping it was comforting, painfully aware of the bones he could feel beneath the fabric of the parka. Stan heard himself saying, "I'm here now, I'm here now, I'm so, so sorry I wasn't before but I'm here, I'm here," he kept repeating quietly hoping Kenny could hear him through the pain.

Kenny's sobs became wails for a minute before turning into sobs again and suddenly he was stuttering through the tears. "They're- they're gone, they're gone," his voice was so raspy and Stan wasn't sure if it was from the tears or disuse or most likely both. "It still hurts, it hurts so much," he cried. "I can't- I can't find them anywhere, I looked, I looked everywhere. It hurts, it hurts," and the voice vanished into the sobs. Stan squeezed him a little harder understanding now why Kenny couldn't talk at school. Was Kenny trying to fend off this kind of breakdown every day? Had he been this close to breaking down every minute of the day at school?

"I'm here, I'm here now," Stan assured not really sure what he meant except just that. He was there to help, to comfort, to do anything that his friend needed. He didn't understand but he knew the skinny blonde in his arms needed someone, anyone. Was that why he had allowed Cartman to find him? Had the bottled-up grief finally pushed him to the breaking point so much that he let himself be seen?

Seeing Kenny so vulnerable and their close proximity was doing other things to Stan's body that he wasn't exactly proud of and fought off. How embarrassing, he hoped Kenny wouldn't notice. He doubted Kenny would notice anything or anyone at this point, he was so far gone already unable to stop the shaking or tears or clutching his friend desperately as if he might disappear from him as his family had. Kenny's sobs had quieted down and Stan realized he had dozed off, his head still on Stan's shoulder. Stan stayed like that for hours. Oh, Kenny.