A Note From Ben: Well, this is it. This is the end of this story, and I feel much better having it done. It's taken far longer than it should have, and it isn't exactly one of my favorites (in fact, when I look back at the earlier chapters, I actually cringe). Still, I have always been determined that at some point, there would be a resolution to all of this, not only because it's a poor practice to start a story and not finish it, but because all of you have shown such love for it and I couldn't leave you hanging like that. That would have eaten at me for the rest of my life.

So I hope you enjoy this one last chapter. It may not be the ending I envisioned, or the one that some of you were told was coming, but I have to say I'm rather happy with the turnout.

Chapter Eight – Lights Out

It was all over the school: Butters Stotch was going to throw the biggest party the town had ever seen. His parents were normally so controlling, monitoring every aspect his life and grounding him for reasons nobody understood, that he'd never really been able to have a big birthday party before. This year, however, they were allowing it on the condition that they never ask anything of them ever again for the rest of eternity. The plans had apparently started out very small, with only a few people invited, and had grown bit by bit until it rivaled even Eric Cartman's parties.

Cartman, meanwhile, was not handling his lack of invitation with much grace. He thought maybe Butters had forgiven him after their talk on the swing, and it had certainly seemed that way in the days following. They hadn't had any more conversations, but Butters had returned a few of his smiles when they passed each other in the hallways and had even said hello once or twice. What the hell kind of game was he playing? Were they cool or not, and if not, why the hell had he been leading Cartman along, making him think otherwise?

He thought about confronting Butters about it, but the new, more rational side of him kicked in and warned him that doing so would probably do more damage than good. That voice had been chirping in his ear more and more lately, telling him that Butters needed space, that he should just take it slow, that things would work out if it was meant to be. He wasn't sure he liked this new voice. It not only made him less intimidating and dangerous, something that had done some serious damage to his reputation, but it kept popping up even when he didn't want it to.

Your reputation wasn't that great anyway, it told him as he walked down the hallway toward the playground, musing over these things. You were feared and despised by everyone, especially gingers and minorities. Now people are looking at you like a human being and you have a problem with that?

It made my life a lot easier when people were afraid of me, Cartman replied. I could get anything I wanted.

Except for Butters.

He could think of no response for that. It was true that since he'd turned over a new leaf, people like Kyle were being a little bit nicer to him. He didn't realize that it could feel so good to be liked by someone he always thought was beneath him. Whenever Kyle smiled at him and told him it was good to see he was at least making an effort, he felt...happy inside. He didn't know a lot about warm fuzzies, seeing as he'd never really experienced them, but he thought he was at least beginning to understand what people meant when they talked about it.

"Hey, Cartman," Kyle said, coming up beside him as he made his way through the double doors and out onto the playground. There were still piles of melting snow from last week's storm laying in random places across the grounds. Most of the powder had been crushed into the dirt, turning it into muddy slush, leaving only those mounds as a reminder. To Cartman, they looked like the graves of snowmen.

"Hey, Kahl," he replied, barely glancing over at him. "Did you do that report on Pablo Naruda that Garrison asked us for?"

"No, I'm supposed to meet with Stan later today and work on it," Kyle responded. "Cartman, have you talked with Butters lately?"

"No," Cartman said. "I don't see any point in it."

"Don't see any point in it?" Kyle asked, incredulous. He stopped dead in his tracks and Cartman was forced to stop as well, turning with an agitated sigh.

"I don't see a point in it," he repeated, letting his lack of enthusiasm for this topic of conversation show in his voice. "He didn't send me an invitation to his stupid party. That means he doesn't want to be around me and that means there's no point in going over and bothering him."

Kyle scowled at him, which was something that Cartman hadn't seen in a couple of weeks. He'd almost forgotten what Kyle's I'M-SO-PISSED-I-COULD-HIT-YOU face looked like.

"He didn't invite you because his parents wouldn't let him," Kyle said. "They don't want you there since they found out about that photo. They think you're some kind of twisted pervert. It isn't because he doesn't want you there."

Cartman felt tensed up at the very mention of that photo. It was the reason that they'd had all of these damn problems. If he had never taken the fucking thing, he and Butters would probably be a lot farther along by now. He didn't know how he really felt about being gay or any of that sexual discovery shit. He really felt he needed more time before he'd be comfortable even thinking about it. He only knew that Butters made him happy in ways nobody else could, and if that meant that he would eventually have to ask himself about his sexuality, well he'd deal with it when the time came.

He looked across the playground, where Butters was playing some kind of weird game with Dougie and Kenny. He found himself wishing he could be Dougie, if only because he was so damn close to Butters. He was like the kid's right hand man, his most trusted playmate. Dougie had access that nobody else in the world had, and Cartman found he was more than a little jealous of him for it.

"You know who Butters invited from out of town for his birthday party, don't you?" Kyle said, following his gaze with a smirk.

"Who?"

"Bradley," Kyle said, folding his arms.

Even though he'd never met Bradley personally, Cartman knew who he was from the stories he'd been told. He'd been Butters' bi-curious roommate at Camp New Grace and had admitted to having a crush on him. Butters hadn't picked up on what he meant until later on and had never actually told anybody how he felt in return. Did he really like-like Bradley? Were they just friends? Did it even matter?

It matters to me, damn it, he thought, grinding his teeth. I have to do something. I can't let Bradley ruin my chances.

"Go get him, Cartman," Kyle told him, patting him on the shoulder. "Tell him how you feel."

Cartman knew Kyle was right. He should tell Butters the truth before time ran out. He gathered up his courage and started across the playground, determined that it was either sink or swim. This game had gone on long enough for both of them, and it was time to end it once and for all.

I'll just walk up to him and tell him 'Butters, we need to talk'. No, no; that's too direct. I need to be gentle about it. Maybe 'Hey, Butters. What's up? Nice shirt. Think we can talk for a minute?' Fuck, that sounds too soft. Then again, I can't just blurt out 'Butters, I love you' in front of Kenny and Dougie..

"Eric!" Butters said, shocking him out of his thoughts. He'd apparently been standing there for several seconds, just staring at him and trying to think of what to say. "You okay, Eric?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I was, just, uh...wondering..."

Kenny nudged Dougie and they wandered off toward another corner of the playground.

"Wonderin' what?" Butters asked.

"If, uh," Cartman stuttered, "if you wanted to come over after school today?"

He kicked himself. After all of that debating, after psyching himself up for this big finish, and after all of his oaths that the drama was going to come to an end one way or the other, that's the best he could come up with. He felt disgusted with his own cowardice. When did he turn to such a jellyfish? He used to be able to say whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, consequences be damned.

"I'd sure like to, Eric," Butters said with a small grin, "but I gotta get home and help my parents finish setting up for the party."

"Oh."

Butters must have sensed his discomfort because his grin disappeared and he shuffled nervously.

"I would have invited you if my parents would have let me, you know," he said.

"Yeah," Cartman said. He felt as though he wanted to say something. It felt like a large geyser deep inside him, wanting to burst forth and spew all of his most intimate feelings. He wanted to tell Butters over and over again that when his heart beat, it cried his very name. He wanted to ask why the hell Bradley was being invited, and why they couldn't do something together after the party. He wanted to grab him and kiss him and never let him go....

Of course, he did none of those things. For some reason, even when he reached down deep inside to find the courage to open the valve and let it all come gushing out, he found he couldn't do it. In the end, he simply choked and stuttered, then shook his head and walked away. He heard Butters shout an apology, though it was wasted on him. He was lost in his own thoughts, wondering what the hell he was going to do, or if there was anything at all he could do.

He didn't stop walking when he heard Butters call for him again, nor when Kyle tried to summon him. He didn't stop walking when he reached the back door of the school. He kept right on going until he reached the boys' bathroom, where he sat down on the back of one of the toilets and put his head in his hands in shame.

I'm fucking doomed, he thought. There's no hope at all...

A week later saw Butters at the bus stop, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the coach carrying Bradley, which was forty-five minutes late. He wasn't really surprised, though; he'd heard nothing but rotten things about Greyhound all his life. His father often complained that a Greyhound bus would show up two hours late for the end of the world, and that was with a generous head start.

He checked his watch, wondering not for the first time whether he'd misunderstood Bradley and come on the wrong day. He couldn't have, of course, because they'd been talking about the visit pretty much nonstop in their letters for well over a month. He had the details of the trip memorized, right down to the things they were gonna do while he was there. He could even remember that they wanted to go get double cheeseburgers from McDonald's at some point, seeing as they both enjoyed them so much, and that Bradley was going to get his without pickles.

He hates pickles, he thought. If I can remember that, why would I get the date or the time wrong? No, it's the bus. It's got to be.

Meanwhile, Eric Cartman had been watching him from a distance all day and he found it a little unnerving. The guy tried to look inconspicuous, like it was all just a big coincidence how they kept "bumping into each other", but he knew what it was. Cartman was scoping him out, watching for something. That was old Eric behavior, the kind of stuff that Butters had thought was gone for good.

Why does he keep watching me like this?

He turned his attention away, trying to ignore him. He was standing across the street, dressed up in an old timey detective outfit, right down to the goofy fedora. He was making an effort to watch him while trying to stay concealed behind a badly outdated newspaper. That was really hard to just shrug off. He might as well have been dressed up like a clown, juggling flaming swords.

A loud honk from down the road and the smell of diesel fuel filled the air. Butters looked toward the source of this along with the small entourage of party guests he'd brought with him. They could see the bus chugging toward them, rocking gently as it came. They gave a cheer and a few of them high-fived each other.

"Finally," Butters said, rubbing his hands together nervously. He hadn't seen his pen pal in quite some time and he'd been anticipating this for quite some time. When Bradley stepped off the bus, Butters gave a squeal of delight and pounced on him. He threw his arms around him with such force that they both almost went toppling backwards onto the bus steps.

"Easy, Butters!" Bradley laughed. "Take it easy!"

Butters began to gush about how much fun they were going to have and how much he'd been looking forward to it. He made sure to introduce each of his friends at least three times, something which made Bradley laugh with delight. He honestly didn't mind someone being that glad to see him.

"Wow, it's gonna be so great," Butters said as they walked off. He could see Cartman fold up the newspaper and fall in line a good distance behind them, but he shrugged it off. Butters figured if he had something he wanted to say, he could step forward and do it. He wasn't going to stress himself out over someone who followed him around like a lost puppy. "We're gonna do everything we ever said we would. I even remembered the pickles thing, can you believe that...?"

Eric Cartman stood across from the Stotch house, hating every beat of the music and every delighted squeal of the kids on the Ferris Wheel. Each one was like nails on a chalkboard to him, driving him more and more insane. He felt his eye begin to switch and he reached up in the moonlight and put a hand over it, trying to get himself under control. He didn't need to fall apart, not now that he was so close. If he flipped out and did something rash, Butters would never speak to him again.

"Butters," he hissed under his breath.

He wanted to go in and get the boy's attention somehow, and was seriously thinking about risking it. After all, there were so many kids there, would anyone really notice one more? Was he that recognizable, that he could be spotted in a crowd that was easily a hundred people large? It filled the house, spilled out into yards, the sidewalk, the street. He could even see kids through the windows in the upstairs bedrooms. God only knew what they were doing up there.

God, I hope Butters isn't one of them. I hope he's not up there with Bradley.

It was a hard thing to think about. Butters, his Butters, in bed with someone else. He could see Butters with his head hanging over the edge of the bed, his eyes closed in pleasure, his mouth moving in moans of pleasure. Bradley was on top of him, his sweat dropping down off of his face as he thrashed and grunted....

"NOOO!" Cartman screamed, causing several people across the street to look at him. Craig flipped him off.

Fuck it, he was going for it. The worst he could expect would be getting thrown out of the house. He might still be able to isolate Butters and get his attention before that happened.

Butters and Bradley were on the Ferris Wheel, laughing and teasing each other. Butters wasn't sure if you could call what they were doing "flirting" or not, but he didn't care. Bradley was a good friend and a lot of fun to be around. If they just happened to flirt with each other in their games, why that was just fine. It just added a little something more to it.

Bradley poked him in the ribs and Butters giggled and tried to scamper away. His sudden movement caused their seat to rock and sway, and he was suddenly very frightened. He jumped on Bradley and threw his arms around him with a squeak. Bradley laughed and told him he needed to relax a little bit more, that the ride was perfectly safe.

"Oh, uh, yeah I guess it is," Butters said, looking around. He let go of Bradley awkwardly and scooted back to his side of the seat. He couldn't help but notice his friend's deep blush as he did so. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, Butters," Bradley said, smiling at him. "I'm having a really great time."

He put his hand on the seat and Butters wasn't surprised that it wound up on top of his own. He flipped it around and they linked fingers.

"I am, too," he said.

They stared at each other affectionately, caught up in the moment.

"Bradley..." Butters said.

He was cut off by the power to the entire party being cut. The music fell silent, the lights went out, and all the rides came to a dead stop. There was a mass outcry from the guests at this, and Butters stuck his head over the side of the car to try and figure out what happened. They were too high up to be able to see anything in the darkness below, and he couldn't help wondering if the terrorists had attacked, like his father always told him they would.

"What happened?" Bradley asked.

"I dunno," Butters replied. "I hope they figure it out, or we could be stuck for awhile."

"I'm cool with that," Bradley said.

"Well, I'm not!" Butters shot back. "I don't like heights."

Back in the house, Linda and Chris Stotch were in a frenzy. Linda was trying to figure out what had caused the outage while Chris ran around the house like a maniac. He had always warned Butters about terrorist attacks, but he hadn't expected one so soon. He was worried about how he was going to get his son down off of that wheel if they decided to use the Anthrax next.

"Christ!" he said as pot and pants went flying. "Where did I put the damn gun?"

"Forget the damn gun, Chris!" she screamed at him. "Just help me get the lights back on!"

"We have to have the gun in case they decide to try and use our house as a base of operations. I'll have to try and kill as many of them as I can while you and Butters make an escape. I probably won't live through it, but you'll at least be able to go somewhere and hide until the nuclear fallout clears. It shouldn't be more than fifty years."

"Oh, for the love of God!"

"Butters!"

It was Cartman. Butters looked down from the seat and scanned the ground for him. He couldn't tell where he was, only that he was using a bullhorn.

He's the son of a bitch responsible for this.

Butters swore that as soon as he got off, he was going to bash his fucking head in.

"Butters, are you up there?"

"He's up there, asshole!" someone screamed. "Now turn the fucking lights on!"

"I'm not talking to you," Cartman shot back. "Butters, I know I've been a bad person. I've done horrible things, unforgivable things. I've spent my whole life just doing what I wanted to do, no matter what it cost or how many people it hurt."

Now, this was interesting. Butters leaned over to hear him better. Bradley had to grab him to make sure he wouldn't topple over the side.

"I know I don't deserve your friendship, and I certainly don't deserve your heart," Cartman continues, the emotion in his voice palpable even with the bullhorn. "But I can't get you out of my head. Everything I've ever known, everything I've ever believed about what's right and wrong and about what the world owes me has been flipped upside-down since you and I started getting closer. I don't want to be that awful person I was anymore. I don't want to be that sociopath that everyone was afraid of."

Butters was speechless. He looked over at Bradley, who looked just as shocked as he was. Cartman's exploits had become infamous all over the state. Kids as far away as Fort Lupton and Pueblo were talking about what a monster the fat kid from South Park was. To hear the Eric Cartman saying such beautiful words, clearly transformed into a whole new person, had completely blown his mind.

"I just want you, Butters," Cartman said. "Please!"

The power came back on and everything began to come back to life. The carousel and Ferris Wheel began to rotate again, the game tents lit up, the music started playing, and all the kids who had been trapped on the rides were able to get off. They were released, one by one, as Linda and Chris came and grabbed Cartman by the arms.

"Lame," he said as they pulled him like a sack of flour toward the exit. He'd been so sure that was going to work. Now he'd be hearing about this little escapade for months at school, if not for years. He'd never be able to live down how he showed up here and made a fool out of himself. Well, no matter. There were more important things than reputation, that much he'd learned.

"Wait!" Butters cried, his seat finally reaching the ground. He ran toward his parents, waving his arms. "Wait a minute!"

"Butters," Cartman said with a smile.

Linda and Chris stopped dragging him across the grass and stood there, arms crossed. They looked pissed, as always, and he was sure Butters was going to hear about this later.

"Did you really mean all that stuff you said?" Butters asked.

"Every word of it," Cartman said.

Butters was quiet for a minute as he stood there, thinking things over. Cartman had really changed; it hadn't been an act after all. He had become a completely different person with a new set of morals and a new way of looking at life. That was an amazing thing, especially when he realized that Cartman had changed for him. He'd remodeled every aspect of his personality, just so he could make him happy.

That's so overwhelming. What do you even say to something like that?

"I, uh..." he stuttered. "Uh..."

He couldn't find the words to say, so he did the only thing he could think of: he threw his arms around Cartman's neck and hugged him tightly.

"Butters," Cartman said, holding him as though his world would collapse the minute he let go, "does this mean...?"

"Yes," Butters whispered into his ear. "Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

The crowd behind them erupted into thunderous applause, which quickly fell into awed silence as the two of them shared their first kiss right in front of them. Chris and Linda looked at each other, then shrugged and walked back into the house. It wasn't like they hadn't seen it coming.

In the back of the crowd, the boy that had played such a big role in getting the two of them together slipped quietly away. Kyle was satisfied that all of his efforts had paid off. Even though he'd worked so hard in front of everybody trying to get things to work out for the best and nobody had noticed, that was okay. This wasn't about him; it was about them. They were good for each other.

Neither of them are the same. They've changed so much since this whole thing started.

Kyle smiled to himself. His meddling had been partly responsible for that, and he was glad. His mother had always taught him to do good things without being obvious about it, and in this he'd been successful. He'd helped to change two lives, and unless someone went back over everything and looked, they'd never figure it out. It would be his secret, something that he could carry with him even to his grave.

"I wish you guys the best," Kyle said, stopping in the street and looking back toward the Stotch house. The music was little more than garbled noise and thumping bass from here, but he could still see the bright lights of the Ferris Wheel. "Sincerely."

Then he was gone.

Fin

Like a river flows to the sea,

so it goes.

Some things are meant to be.

Take my hand.

Take my whole life, too.

For I can't help falling in love with you.

-Can't Help Falling In Love, Elvis Presley