South Park © Matt & Trey.

Last chapter :P enjoy!

Kenny's POV

I don't really get what happened. I was in my dorm, minding my own damn business when an angry blond stormed in. I recognized him as the large, tattooed freak that fucked Kyle. I asked him what he wanted, but he didn't say a thing. He just grabbed a fistful of my shirt, dragging me off my bed and to the floor. "What the fuck, man?" I shouted as I stood up. He didn't say anything. He just started wailing on me. Like hell I was going to lie back and take that. I kind of knew there was little hope for me. This guy was buff, but hey, I still tried. I think I got in a few good hits, but he played dirty. He pushed me into the nightstand and I knocked my head off the edge of it. I knew I was dead. I pity whoever found me like that.

I woke up in my room back in South Park. Fuckin' A. I threw on some clothing and hung out with Karen for a little while before bussing back to Denver. Hopefully Craig wasn't too upset. Either way, it isn't like anyone will remember it. Just Eric for some damn reason.

I enter the school and walk to our dorm's common room. I see Craig sitting with Clyde, Kyle and Stan. They look content, so I guess nothing too bad happened.

When Craig spots me coming down the hallway he stands up and runs to me, hugging me as tight as he can. "What's this for?" I chuckle, rubbing his back.

"I don't know…" he admits softly, touching our foreheads together. "I just feel really fucking happy to see you."

The afterthought of my death is probably still lingering. "Aw," I say, smiling slightly before closing the gap between our faces. "So, who gave you this?" I ask once we separate, lightly touching the bruise on his cheek with my thumb.

"Some bastard," he says.

"Ah," I frown. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

He just shakes his head before asking, "So, where were you?"

"Family emergency," I lie, throwing an arm around him and heading towards the rest of the guys. "I had to head home quickly."

"You're lucky you weren't here," he says.

"Why's that?" I ask.

"Some guy named Trent Boyett tried to kill your friends," he explains.

"Trent…?" I repeat the name and it leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. Well, shit. I almost forgot about that fucker. I guess it makes sense now. "What did he do?"

"Shot Eric, drugged Stan and scarred Kyle's face," Craig reveals. "I think he wanted to kill you all, but he didn't succeed. He's probably on the run now."

How funny. The only one he actually succeeded in killing was me and I came back. "Well, shit," I state. Once we reach the guys, I give them all a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry," I tell them.

Kyle simply nods. He has a bandage on his arm and face. I hope what's beneath them isn't too gruesome.

Craig and I sit down and they tell me the rest of what happened, piece by piece. Then we regale Craig and Clyde with the story of why Trent wanted us dead in the first place.

"It all started when we wanted to play firemen…" Stan begins.

They finally let Eric leave the hospital the following day. Kyle takes the bandages off when he arrives back and we are all sitting together in the dorm room he shares with Stan. He cries out in shock when he sees the damage for the first time and I can't really blame him. It looks like he's got half a Glasgow smile. The stitches are probably making it look a little worse than it is. Once it's healed up, maybe it won't look as messy. Nonetheless, Kyle is upset. "Fuck," he whispers, staring into the mirror above the counter. "That's really ugly, huh?"

"It's hella ugly," Eric agrees insensitively, "but who cares if you have a few scars. Or, well, more than a few. You still look fine, even with the nasty cuts."

"It's a story, Kyle," I add gently. "A story you can be proud of."

"I beg to differ," he says bitterly. "All I did was get drugged, scream a bit and pass out. I'm surprised I didn't piss myself, too."

"You survived," I reiterate, dismissing his self-demeaning comments. "You survived something shitty and you were strong about it."

He rolls his eyes, not quite believing it.

Eric gives him a slap on the back. "Kinny's right, y'know."

"Yeah," I chuckle. "Don't worry; it doesn't make you any less pretty."

"I don't care about being pretty," he insists, spitting out the word. He places a fresh bandage over the stitches, covering up the mess. He probably doesn't want to see it, but I suppose that's understandable. It might take Kyle a long time to get used to it. "Ready to see the next one?" he asks us before unravelling the bandage on his arm. The damage is pretty bad. The bandages are stuck to some of the cuts and he has to peel them off slowly.

"Ew," Stan groans, looking nauseous.

"Jesus Christ," Kyle murmurs, eyebrows drawn together. "These all look self-inflicted. I look like a fucking emo kid."

"It isn't that bad, Kyle," I tell him.

"Yeah, it fucking is!" he shouts in disbelief. "They're gross as hell!"

I shrug. "They'll heal."

"And then leave scars," he adds distastefully.

"Scars fade with time," I say.

"Besides," Eric cuts in, "Remember what I told you in the hospital?"

Kyle sighs, staring down at his arms. "Someone help me put on a new bandage."

Eric doesn't hesitate to help him change the coverings. "There we go," he says. "Good as new."

"Yeah," I agree before leaning into Kyle and whispering, "So, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, shoot," he says with a sigh.

"You and Eric…?" I trail off, but he knows what I want to know.

"Yeah," he says. "Me and Eric. Weird, hm?"

"Pretty weird," I admit, "but you'll probably be good for him."

"AY!" Eric exclaims. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I roll my eyes. "Gee, I wonder."

They find Trent in a crusty old motel about an hour away. They arrest him immediately and say there's going to be a trial. Since we're all adults now, I have a feeling he'll be locked away for quite some time. I mean, he did try to murder three teenagers. He succeeded in killing me, but hey, I don't really count.

It's on the news. They wanted to interview the guys, but they all said hell no. I don't really blame them. Everything is taken care of and it's really no one else's business. We're all alive and we're all okay. We've succeeded in putting Trent away yet again and this time, it's for life. Then again… maybe, this time, he put himself in there. Attempted murder isn't taken as lightly as some playground bullying. Either way, it's almost euphoric.

"What a relief," Stan says later in the day. "I feel like I can finally sleep easy."

Me, Eric, Kyle and Stan are all sitting in a reading room. Craig has been clingy ever since I got back. He's never been that way before. I kind of like it. He's with Clyde now, though. I think they're studying.

"By the sound of your snoring, you've been sleeping just fine," Kyle laughs.

"Touché," he snickers, "but now I'll be sleeping even better."

I smile faintly at them both.

"So, you died again," Eric mentions.

"Yeah," I say.

"Me and Craig found you," he explains. "He had a fuckin' bitch fit after realizing you were dead. Holy hell, you shoulda seen it. It was fuckin' hilarious! Even better than seeing him all drugged up because he didn't punch me this time."

"Sadist," I mutter. I'm really glad Craig doesn't remember it. I don't want him to ever have such a horrible memory of me. He already has more than enough shitty ones. That one would probably take first prize, though.

Stan frowns. "I don't remember."

"Me neither," Kyle says. "Are you okay?"

I can't help but laugh. "I'm used to it, guys. I'm fine…" I pause. "Are you all okay?"

Kyle shrugs. "You've been through it all before, huh?" he asks knowingly. "You've been shot, cut, drugged, beaten, bruised… You've died too many times to count and here I am whining about the cuts on my face."

I chuckle. "It's fine, though. It's because I'm used to it. You guys aren't used to it. You're allowed to be upset and afraid. I mean, fuck. If I wasn't used to dying, a near death experience would turn my world upside down." I shrug my shoulders lightly. "Don't be afraid to express it. I won't be offended. I don't hold it against you guys. It's not your fault you forget."

"But Cartman remembers…" Stan mentions.

"Yeah but who the hell knows why?" I snort. "Trust me, guys. It's fine."

"Okay," Stan murmurs slowly while Kyle just pats my shoulder.

"Ay, I've finally figured out what I want to spend my money on, by the way," Eric announces, pulling out a flier.

I snatch it from him and look at the ad. "A flat screen TV, huh?" I snort.

"Laugh now," he says, "but once I have it, you'll all be begging to hang out."

Stan and Kyle roll their eyes. "Speaking of hanging out," Stan adds a moment later, "The girls are dropping by tomorrow since it's the weekend."

"That's good," Kyle says. "You haven't seen your girlfriend in quite a while."

"Yeah," Stan sighs forlornly. "I miss her."

"Who is all coming?" I ask them.

"Wendy, Bebe, Annie and Red," Stan says.

I grimace. "Red is coming?"

"Yeah," Stan sighs. "Sorry, dude."

I shrug my shoulders. "I'll give Craig the warning."

At night, I sleep in Craig's bed with him. Clyde offers to leave the room, but we insist that it's fine. We're not going to be doing the dirty. We just want to be near each other. Clyde is taking a shower now, giving me and Craig a few minutes alone in the dark room.

"Next term, we'll probably have to change the living arrangements," I say, wrapping him up and pulling him close.

"Probably," Craig agrees, relaxing in my hold and pressing his forehead to my chest.

I should probably break the news to him now about Red. "Hey… uh," I start. "Look, did Clyde tell you his girlfriend is coming for a visit tomorrow?"

"No," Craig murmurs. "Why would I care about that?"

"She's coming with Wendy, Annie and Red," I tell him.

"What…" he trails off, inhaling sharply before letting out a soft groan. "Why is she coming…?"

"Just for a visit, I suppose," I tell him. "Clyde probably didn't know. He would've said something if he did, but Stan told me she was coming."

"Well, fuck," Craig states. "I guess I'll need to find something to do off-campus when she's here."

"Or…" I start, "you could smile and act like you don't give a shit."

"She basically raped me, you do know that, right?" he asks dryly. "That's what everyone said, at least…"

"Yeah…" I say softly. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he sighs. "Fuck, you've said sorry way too many times. It's fine. Obviously I've forgiven you."

"Have you really?" I ask. Sometimes I really doubt it because he's still so bitter. Then again, he has reason to be.

"I have," he insists. "It's not like you knew what was going to happen. You just thought it would be funny if I acted silly."

Clyde returns a moment later, dressed in pajamas with damp hair.

From across the room, I can hear Clyde snickering and it's obvious he's trying hard to supress it.

"What's so damn funny?" I ask dryly.

"Ah... ah-ah… hah…" he chuckles. "You guys. You're just… really cute all huddled together."

"Shut up," Craig bites. He hates this kind of attention and Clyde knows it. He's just being a shit disturber. "Did you know Red was coming up?"

"No," Clyde says. "Is she coming up with Bebe? I just thought Wendy was coming."

"Nope," Craig states. "Red and Annie, too."

"Huh…" Clyde murmurs. "Well, that sucks."

"It's okay," he sighs. "It'll be okay."

"Yes," I agree.

When tomorrow arrives, Craig sleeps in 'til two. I tried to force him out of bed around twelve, but he wasn't having any of it.

The girls are here by now and we're all sitting in the common room. Stan and Clyde look incredibly happy to finally see their girlfriends again. How cute. All the girls think it is shocking that Kyle ended up settling with Eric. It's no secret they all think Kyle is too good for him, but I stand by what I said – Kyle might be good for a guy like Eric. Maybe he'll learn a few morals.

After regaling them with the story of Trent Boyett, Annie asks, "So, where's Craig?"

"Asleep still," I tell her.

Red rolls her eyes. "Is he still bitching about what happened at my birthday party a few years back?" Clearly, she's recovered nicely.

"That's cold," I say. "He has a reason to be unimpressed."

Wendy frowns and Bebe looks uncomfortable. "Er, anyway," the blonde girl says. "I'm really glad you're all okay."

"So am I," Wendy adds sincerely.

We chatter for a little while longer until Craig finally saunters into the room with arms crossed. He looks like he just rolled out of bed. He probably did. His hair is stuck up and he's still wearing last night's pajamas – a pair of black sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Hey," I smile warmly and he just nods.

"Hi, Craig," the girls all greet him in unison, sans Red.

"Nice to see you all," he says with an incredibly forced polite tone.

"Come sit with us," I tell him.

"There's no room," he states, but I just give him a little smirk in response. He lets out a sigh, rolling his eyes at me. Slowly, he wanders into the room and sits on my lap.

"Uh, so…" Annie trails off, pointing at us.

"Yeah," is all I say and she nods.

"Okay, well… congrats," she chuckles.

"Thanks," I wink and Craig rubs his forehead with the palm of his hands.

"You're gay?" Red gapes at him.

He gives her an extremely dry stare, blinking a couple times before stating, "Yes." Oh, man. If looks could kill.

She flushes, pressing her lips together. "Oh," is all she says and Wendy makes sure to change the subject a moment later.

Craig doesn't stay for long. He's rigid. I can feel it. He's uncomfortable and tense. He listens to Wendy talk about her own university experiences for a few minutes before whispering to me, "This is weird. I'm going."

"Want me to come?" I offer quietly.

"No, it's fine. Have fun," he says, getting up and leaving the room.

"Is he okay?" Wendy asks, cutting off her last sentence.

"He's fine," I smile. "Just a little tired lately."

An hour later, I depart from the group and make my way back to Craig's room. When I open the door, he's in a fresh change of clothes and his hair is damp. He must've showered. He's sitting on his bed, laptop opened in front of him. "Hey," he greets without looking up.

"Hey," I return. "What're you doing?"

"Talking to Ruby," he says. "Wanna say hi?"

"Aw," I coo, shutting the door and sitting next to him. I stare at the computer screen and see her familiar face on webcam, "Hi, Ruby."

"Hi," she gives me the middle finger.

"Cute," I mutter dryly.

"Craig, Mom wants to talk to you when she's done the dishes," Ruby says.

"Okay," he says.

"You should probably tell her that you're a fuckin' queer," she cackles. "Kenny, you've arrived just in time."

Craig grimaces and I just laugh. "Your mom doesn't know?"

"No," he murmurs. "We were a secret, remember?"

"Yeah, I guess," I say. "How'd Ruby know?"

"I knew because I'm not blind," she cuts in with a snort. "And I've seen Craig's computer history a couple years ago when I used his laptop to type up an essay."

"What?" he snaps.

"Yeah, sorry… I couldn't help it," she laughs. A second later Mrs. Tucker's face appears next to Ruby's.

"Hello, boys," she greets.

"Hi, Mom," Craig says.

"Hi, Mrs. Tucker," I grin.

"They have something to tell you, Mom," Ruby says mischievously.

"As long as you didn't murder anyone, I don't care what you do, Craig," she says knowingly.

I snicker and Craig pales.

"For the record," she adds, "Me and your father always had a feeling."

"Uh… thanks, Mom…" he murmurs and I can't help but laugh.

After another hour of awkward group chat, Craig ends the conversation. "Do you always talk to your family on Skype like that?" I ask.

"Yeah," he says. "At least once a week, since I can't really be fucked to visit."

"Well, that's nice," I tell him

"I guess," he shrugs, closing his laptop. He shoves it under his bed before standing up and stretching his limbs.

I think the fact that he saw my corpse did unknowably permanent damage to him. It's unconscious, though. It isn't like he realizes it, but he's changed in a way. It's like, buried deep down, there is a part of him that remembers what it was he saw. I feel like I should tell him, but I don't know how.

"What are you thinking about?" Craig asks, nudging me.

"Me an' you," I tell him, wiggling my eyebrows at him suggestively.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, not sounding like he's all that interested.

"Yeah, babe," I say. "But… on a more serious note, I do have something I want to talk with you about. It's really important."

He frowns, letting out a sigh. "Are we breaking up?"

"What?" I exclaim. "No… No way. It's nothing like that."

"Okay," he murmurs. "What, then?"

"Do you trust me?" I ask.

"Now more than I did earlier this year," he admits.

"Fair enough," I say. I've said it once and I'll say it again; I've never truly given him a reason to trust me. "Uh, okay. You remember what happened a little while ago?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Hm? You mean the Trent Boyett thing?"

I nod a few times. "Yeah, that… Well, I was here when it happened."

"I thought you said you were at home," he asks, eyes narrowing at me.

"It wasn't a complete lie," I tell him. "I did go home and there was a bit of an emergency…"

He gives me a strange look. "What the fuck are you trying to say? Just spit it out already, I hate when you take forever to get out what you want to tell me."

I rub my hands down my face and groan. "What would you do if I told you I've died before?"

"I'd assume you meant that you drowned and got revived or something…" he says.

I frown. "I died before, Craig. But I didn't drown."

He snorts. "Right, okay. I'll humour you," he says. "How did you die, then?"

"Craig, don't humour me. I'm being serious," I tell him earnestly. "I've been beat to death, stabbed, dismembered, set on fire, shot, shocked, pulled apart, crushed, eaten… Fuck, just about everything you can imagine."

He frowns, shifting away from me. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" I ask.

"Scaring me," he says.

"I'm not trying to," I murmur. "I mean, fuck… It scares me sometimes, too."

He stares down at the mattress.

"Think about it, Craig," I force a laugh. "Remember that time we went to Peru?"

"Yes," he says bitterly. "I had lasers coming out of my eyes."

"Exactly," I state. "So… the fact that I die shouldn't be so shocking."

"Do you have proof?" he asks.

I shake my head. "The only proof I have are my own words… but Eric, Kyle and Stan know. You can ask them if you don't believe me."

He sighs, moving towards me once more. He lays his head on my shoulder and I wrap my arms around him. "It's okay, I believe you," he says.

"Are you just saying that?" I ask.

"I don't know," he admits, raising his head. He pecks me on the lips and adds, "You don't tend to lie. You cheated, but you never lied about it. I just didn't ask. For a long time, I pretended it wasn't happening because it was easier that way…"

"I'm a dick," I tell him.

"Yeah," he agrees, "but you've learned, right?"

"Yeah," I promise him.

"So, what happened?" he asks. "You said you were here the night Trent Boyett tried to kill your friends."

"He killed me," I say. "I tried to fight him off, but he won. Apparently you and Eric found my body."

Craig's eyebrows draw together. "I don't remember it."

"I know," I sigh. "I'm actually glad you don't remember it."

He's silent for a few minutes. He looks thoughtful, as if he's contemplating what I'm saying. "Is that why I feel this way?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, but he doesn't respond. "Come on," I urge. I know he hates talking about his feelings, but this is important.

He sits up. "I don't know how to explain it."

"Then let me," I say softly. "You saw me dead and you were probably pretty devastated. According to Eric, you were kind of a mess. He's the only one that remembers, for some reason…"

"Not fair," he murmurs.

"I know," I chuckle. "Anyway, part of you probably understands what happened and that's why you're needy lately."

"Needy," he repeats bitterly. "I'm not needy."

"It's not a bad thing," I laugh. "I like it. It just means you don't want to lose me. You're trying to keep what you thought you lost."

He rolls his eyes.

"Wanna go grab some food?" I offer, changing the subject. "It's almost six." We'll talk about my immortality again some more later. It doesn't have to be now.

"Sure," he accepts.

I stand up a second later, taking his hand as we leave the dorm. It feels good having people know about us. I wish I hadn't been so stubborn. Then maybe I could have saved him a lot of heartache. I once read that you're not supposed to forgive people that hurt you. Craig might deny it, but he's forgiving. I'm not sure if it's just me, or if he's like this with everyone. I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing. Nonetheless, I won't keep saying sorry. I know he hates it.

"I love you," I say out of the blue.

He rolls his eyes again. "Yeah, I know that," he says. "I love you, too."

In the cafeteria, we meet up with the guys. They're laughing and joking around and it's good to see that everyone is already recovering from what happened. Once me and Craig grab some food, we join them.

"So, what's the good word?" I ask as we take seats.

"Not much," Stan says. "I was just telling them that I failed my last statistics quiz, but the prof is letting me retake it because of my apparent trauma."

"Oh," I snicker. "Well, that's cool of her."

"Yeah," Stan laughs, "but I don't think she remembers that quiz happened before the Trent Boyett situation."

"Hey," I tell him, "don't look a gift horse in the mouth."

"I'll help you pass," Kyle says to Stan. "I'm good at statistics."

"I know you are," Stan grimaces. "I… fucking suck at all math."

Kyle shrugs. "For some people, numbers can be hard to work with."

"Jew," Eric coughs.

I give Craig a humoured smile and he returns it with a little less vigor. To be expected. Eric and Kyle continue to bicker with one another while Stan rolls his eyes and Clyde murmurs, "Why are they dating, again?"

"Who the fuck knows," Stan snorts.

"It's the sex," I whisper jokingly and I swear, Stan's a tinge green. "Picture it… picture it," I say and he scrunches up his face, probably getting a pretty vivid image.

"Nooo!" Stan wails.

Ah, normalcy.

Fin.