(A/N: Guess I'm having a good go at it. Somehow, a family dinner snuck it's way into the fanfic!)

Kenny shot Stan more than one concerned glance during art class, noting how absorbed the other boy was in this thoughts. Stan didn't pay attention all period and even the gentle kicks from Kenny only brought Stan out of his reverie for a brief few moments at a time, teeth flashing at him each time, failed attempts at a reassuring smile. Stan pondered on Craig and Kyle's words, knowing that if he wanted an answer, he should just ask. The period ended and Stan waved the other two off, heading towards his and Kyle's locker, still lost in thought. Stan didn't see Kenny's pensive face as he stared after him, Cartman glancing between the two, uncertain. Kyle was nowhere to be found and Stan headed home, shooting his best friend a quick text, making sure he was okay; Kyle insisted he was, just staying after hours to do a group project with classmates from one of his AP classes.

It was about two hours after school and Stan was helping his mom out in the kitchen, preparing food for dinner. He usually always helped because he wanted to and he had certain restrictives on his diet that the rest of his family didn't have. The doorbell resounded throughout the house and Shelly was hollering from the door that Stan's friends were there. He spared a confused glance towards his mother before shrugging and going to see who it was.

Kenny stood in the doorway, Cartman hanging a little further back, the definition of annoyed and put out. Stan managed a smile at Kenny, though he cast a more suspicious glance Cartman's way.

"Hey, I didn't know you guys were stopping by."

Kenny smiled though it was strained. "I was worried, Stan, you seemed distracted during art and…" he trailed off, uncertain how to explain why he was concerned.

Stan's face softened and the corners of his mouth perked up at Kenny's confession. "Why don't you come in? I'm sure my mom won't mind if we have guests over for dinner."

"Are you sure?" Kenny asked doubtfully, Cartman having already crossed into the house at hearing the dinner invitation.

"If he's staying, you have to stay." Stan shot Cartman's back a dirty look before grinning at Kenny again.

"I'm definitely staying!" Cartman exclaimed, waving one hand around, indicating he could care less what the other two did. "I got an invite and I'm here for dinner, Marsh family!" The aroma of garlic, basil, and spaghetti wafted throughout the house. It would be a nice change from the reheated fried chicken he and Kenny usually had for dinner.

"God, you turd!" Shelly shrilled at hearing Cartman, turning to glare hatefully at her brother. "Why are you just inviting random people over? Mom! I didn't get to invite any of my friends!"

Randy was there suddenly, beer in his hand, surveying Kenny with interest. "Hey, aren't you that McCormick kid that vanished some years ago?"

"Dad!" Stan cried, face turning bright red, horror, shame, and embarrassment shooting every which way through him.

Kenny's strained smile remained and he nodded. "Yes, that's me. Good memory, Mr. Marsh."

"You've gotten pretty tall. You're almost the same height as my son." Randy reached up and waved his hand above Kenny's head. His own son was already taller than him. "Your dad was pretty tall, too, now that I think about." Stan's heart about stopped, inviting Kenny in for dinner so his dad could talk about the McCormicks was not part of the plan. Silently, he berated himself, he should have seen this coming. He prayed Kenny didn't get cold feet and run out, though, he certainly wouldn't blame him if he did because Stan's own feet were screaming for him to run fast and far.

Kenny took it all in surprisingly good stride. "Yeah, he was tall," he easily agreed. Randy nodded excitedly, grinning as he took another swig of his beer, happy to have someone else to reminisce with.

"He definitely had fun in high school with his height," he said around his beer can, eyes sparkling with memories. "He really should have pursued baseball, he was good at it, but you know, love and kids always become the new, better dream."

"Was he really that good at baseball?" Kenny asked as he followed Randy to the dining area, Randy announcing to Sharon that he was adding two settings to the table. They could hear Cartman and Shelly arguing in the kitchen, Sharon's weary voice quickly losing patience with the teenagers. Stan followed behind slowly, carefully observing Kenny, shocked he was engaging in conversation so easily with his dad about his family. It was definitely a far cry from what Stan remembered happening in Cartman's basement not too long ago.

Randy beamed at him. "Son, he was amazing! You should try it out sometime, see if you picked up any of that talent. We have a baseball and bat around here you could try out. Stan is too wrapped up in track and vegetables to care about baseball."

"Dad!" Stan protested with a roll of his eyes, separating from the two to see if his mom needed help putting out the food. Sharon quickly shooed him out of the kitchen stating the last thing she needed was another teenager in the kitchen, hindering her progress.

Stan sat next to Kenny, Randy sitting at the head of the table. He watched as Kenny listened, rapt, to his father drone on about Stuart McCormick and baseball in high school. It was fascinating to Stan, seeing this side of Kenny, so enthralled with Randy's musings. Shelly and Cartman both exited the kitchen, hands full of dishes with sides, such as garlic bread and salad. Shelly darted back to the kitchen after setting out the sides to grab extra napkins and anything else she'd noticed missing from the table. Cartman followed suit, coming back out with glasses for beverages. Sharon was soon there, too, with the main course. The spaghetti doused in garlic, basil, and heaped over meatballs landed in the center of the table. Sharon sat down at the other end of the table, Shelly and Cartman plopping into the chairs across from Stan and Kenny.

"Looks amazing," Randy complimented his wife, shooting a wink in Kenny's direction. He began reaching over to heap spaghetti on his plate but Sharon tsked and he stopped.

"Grace first," she reminded her husband huffily with a roll of her eyes. Shelly groaned, somehow managing to glare at both Stan and Cartman as she begrudgingly took hold of one of Cartman's hands. Stan happily took one of Kenny's hands in his own, squeezing it reassuringly. He had always thought grace was kind of an annoying ritual until this moment, not to mention he was grateful Kenny had been eating. Maybe it was a higher power, maybe it was the universe itself, Stan didn't know or care, he just felt grateful and, at this moment, this seemed the optimum way to express it.

Randy quickly muttered off a thanks for the food and the hands that made it before everyone dropped hands and started loading up their plates with food. Kenny took note that Stan had his own separate bowl and Stan just grinned at him, reminding him that he was vegan. His bowl had spaghetti, too, but minus the meat. Cartman was nearly tossing the spoon to the spaghetti at Kenny and Kenny clutched onto it tightly, hovering it over the spaghetti, suddenly unsure how to proceed. He wasn't sure how much he could actually eat but he also didn't want to insult Stan's mother by not putting enough on his plate or not finishing what he did put on his plate. Randy frowned, amused. "Don't be shy, we've got plenty to go around, here," he took the spoon from Kenny and scooped a generous heaping onto the plate, he dipped the spoon back into the large glass dish, ready to add more when Kenny suddenly jerked his plate away, softly apologizing, stating he was still kind of full from lunch. Randy just smiled and dumped the extra heaping onto his own plate. "Suit yourself, but don't get upset if I eat it all before you get seconds."

"Thanks," Kenny mumbled, looking down at the intimidating pile of spaghetti that had landed on his plate. There was a brief, light touch to his elbow and Kenny found Stan giving him a reassuring smile and nod. Kenny nodded back, swirling his fork into his spaghetti, the unease in him melting away at Stan's touch.

Cartman was having no issues with eating his spaghetti, having already inhaled his first serving and helping himself to seconds, only muttering darkly to Shelly when she jabbed a few insults his way. Kenny chewed thoughtfully on his first bite, listening as Randy spoke more about his father and their days in high school together; he didn't remember that his dad had ever been friends with Stan's dad. Maybe they had or hadn't, who knew, people always seemed to think more fondly of people once they were gone. It was nice to hear someone say such positive things about his father, when he'd been alive most people were generally negative when referencing him or Carol McCormick. It wasn't unwarranted as they'd both been drug addicts and not exactly fit to be parents as Kenny had first hand experienced, but it was still refreshing to hear about this other side of one of his parents. He was aware of Stan keeping a close eye on him in his peripheral, clearly concerned about all this family talk.

Shelly was sticking her tongue out at Cartman and preventing him from getting a third helping, Sharon trying to calm the two down when Randy's tone suddenly changed, turning grievous. "I'm so sorry about what happened to your family, though. Your brother and sister especially didn't deserve that, being so young and all." The reaction was instant. Stan noted Kenny tense up, his grip on his fork loosening, spaghetti falling back onto his plate, his mouth open but no words coming out. Cartman abandoned his quest for thirds and looked sharply over to Kenny. Everyone else at the table sensed the shift in the air, tension practically visible to their sight. Randy frowned, confused and Sharon pursed her lips with concern. Shelly glanced over at Kenny, eyes curious, not asking verbally what she and so many others often wondered.

"The food is really good, Mrs. Marsh," Kenny stated haltingly, willing the topic to disappear. Stan took another bite of his food, carefully observing. So, his parents were okay to talk about. It was just Karen and Kevin that were off limits. He wondered why, after all, hadn't everyone died on the same night, the same way?

"Thanks, Kenny," Sharon quickly accepted the compliment, sensing the need to ease some of the tension from the table. Stan grinned gratefully at his mother. Sharon and Randy exchanged a quick look.

"Yeah, Mom, it's fantastic!" Stan chimed in and Sharon shook her head.

"You helped with most of it, Stan," he said through amusement before turning her attention to her daughter. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to help out in the kitchen, Shelly."

"Ew," was the response. Soon the tension evaporated and no one else brought up Kenny's family again. Stan was thrilled that Kenny finished almost everything off his plate. Stan realized that Kyle and Craig were both right; he should just ask Kenny about Cartman. Just not right now at dinner, he would need to find a better time to do it, a time when they were alone, maybe at breakfast. Judging by the way Kenny glanced at him throughout the dinner, he wondered if maybe he wasn't overthinking things as it were. Still, he cast another dubious look in Cartman's direction, Cartman was Cartman, so anything was possible with that guy. Dinner was over a little too fast and Stan wished he could invite Kenny to stay over but knew his mom would not go for that especially on a school night, and he worried that if Kenny stayed, his dad might bring up the McCormicks again and he didn't want a repeat performance of earlier. He walked his friends to the door, Kenny glancing towards the kitchen worriedly.

"Stan, are you sure we shouldn't stay and help with dishes?" They could all hear the sink running and the clanking of dishes coming from the kitchen along with some curses from Shelly.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Stan told him, with a slight shake of his head. "Shelly never helps out with the food so she's always on dish duty. Besides, I'll help her if she really needs any, don't worry about it."

"Well," Kenny started slowly, struggling to find words. "Thanks for the food, but…" They had never gotten to speak about what might have been bothering Stan earlier in the day.

Stan smiled brightly at him, no false pretense and Kenny was grateful for that. "Don't worry," Stan assured him, "I'm sorry if I worried you, I was just preoccupied, but I figured it out."

"Goddamn, are we leaving or what? Honestly, we can't just hang around here all night," Cartman complained, glaring at the two in the doorway from his spot on the pathway outside.

Kenny flashed Stan a smile. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"You better," Stan responded, his own smile growing. He watched as the two disappeared. He sensed his mother's presence before he felt it by him.

"Seems like he's getting along pretty well," she remarked, watching as Kenny and Cartman disappeared from view.

"Yeah," Stan murmured in agreement.

Cartman glanced behind them, noting that Stan's door had finally shut. He glanced over at Kenny who was becoming more distressed by the moment. "Do you think it's wrong?" Kenny asked suddenly, voice low while running a hand through his hair, pulling hard at some strands as he waited for Cartman's response.

Cartman rolled his shoulders and shot his friend a sideways glance. "You mean about Stan?"

Kenny stopped walking and waited for Cartman to follow suit. He nodded. "Yeah, it feels almost cruel to be involved with him." His eyes cast about the area as if wary that someone might be eavesdropping on them. Cartman attempted to keep his anger in check though he knew Kenny was already aware of the anger and frustration seeping through his demeanor.

"It's not like Stan doesn't have a choice in this," he pointed out, hoping to get the reality through to his friend. "If anything, he's the one that has gone out of his way."

"It still feels wrong, like it can't possibly be true. Because it's too good to be true."

Cartman's lips thinned into a flat line and he eyed Kenny carefully. "Stop thinking so lowly of yourself. It's not like I asked Stan to help, he wasn't part of my plan, it just happened. And there is nothing too good about that alcoholic hippie! Don't put him on a pedestal."

Kenny allowed a small smile at Cartman's outburst. "You like him, though."

"I never said he wasn't good for anything! He's at least got you staying alive."

"But still, I can't imagine any of it ending well. I'm a cruel person. I'm sure there's a much better person out there for him."

Cartman was silent for several long moments, considering Kenny's words. "Why would it not end well? You both seem to make each other happy."

Kenny picked some stray grass off his coat and tugged at his hair again. "You know why," he muttered through a defeated sigh. "Everything that's happened. I can never..." I'm not allowed to be happy. I couldn't possibly make another person truly happy.

"Stop with that. I told you already, Stan won't see it the way you're seeing it. I don't even see it that way."

Now Kenny fell quiet for a few moments before speaking up again, voice soft, mind clearly elsewhere. "Right. You were there at the end, after all."

Cartman clenched his teeth together and pushed back at the emotions he could feel starting to spill over. "I said stop. Let's not talk or think about it. Stan cares about you. Don't go be stupid and mess it up."

"He really deserves better."

Cartman shook his head and started walking again. "Maybe that's something you should bring up to Stan if you feel that way. We can turn back and go ask him what he thinks."

Kenny was quick to shake his head at the idea. "No, I just- I want him to be happy."

"Well, you seem to be making him happy," Cartman reminded him of his earlier observation.

"I've never felt this strongly, it feels almost surreal," he confided in Cartman. His friend quirked an eyebrow, waiting for Kenny to continue, though he suspected he already knew what would be said. "The last time I wanted someone to be happy like this was when…" he stopped suddenly, not sure he trusted himself to say the rest without tearing up.

"When your sister was still alive," Cartman finished for him, voice low. He stared at Kenny for a minute. "You love him." Kenny's eyes widened at this and he looked over at Cartman, shocked.

"What?" he asked, almost panicky about it. "No, I can't- that-"

Cartman watched as Kenny struggled to figure out what everyone else already knew. "It's allowed, Kenny." He ran a frustrated hand across his face. "Part of living is feeling things other than despair." He huffed, stopping himself from snapping anything cruel out and trying to make sure his thoughts wouldn't reveal too much. Dealing with Kenny could be such a draining experience and he knew he wouldn't go this far out of his way for anyone else. Sometimes it felt as though all his energy was being zapped right out of him.

"This is bad." Kenny dropped to the ground, sitting in a neighbor's yard, uncaring that he flattened the grass beneath him. Cartman sighed, looking down at him.

"You know someone could shoot you and say you were trespassing."

"You know it doesn't really matter when it comes to me."

"And you know that's not what I think."

Kenny looked up at him, eyes troubled. "How did I let this happen? He- I can't- I have to... What if he falls in love with me?"

Cartman laughed. "That already happened and the world hasn't ended."

"No." Kenny stated defiantly. Suddenly he was scared, so scared. What if Karen and Kevin were upset with him? How had he thought this would be okay? Is that why Randy had unwittingly brought them up during dinner? Were they trying to remind him that they were there, watching, always watching? Judging. Were they just allowing him to enjoy this glimpse of happiness before snatching it away later? He glanced about, squinting his eyes at the setting sun, and searching for any sign of his brother or sister's spirits, positive at least one had to be following him. Cartman dropped to the ground next to him, heaving a frustrated sigh.

"They're not here," he stated flatly, already knowing what Kenny was looking for. "They aren't out on some mission to make your life miserable. You're doing that." But Kenny's eyes were wide and unseeing, his mind having left the present, and his breathing quickening. Cartman sighed again, more defeated than anything else, and stood up, reaching down to tug Kenny up with him. "Come on, we need to go home."