The Dark of the Matinee

Chapter ?

Kyle smiled to himself as Craig squeezed his hand for the fifth time before some big executive sauntered over to shake his hand. He had to thank his mother for teaching him how to fake polite and interest in face of many of her crusades throughout his childhood. This executive was reeking of alcohol and grumbled praise and "you have promise" and then finally walked off with Craig's agent. Craig's film had already won a few awards over the course of the evening (Craig was walking home with an award for his collaboration on screenwriting for the film) and now there were only two left to hand out. He lifted their joined hands and kissed the inside of Craig's wrist, eyes twinkling in amusement.

"You are so nervous," he teased.

Craig's eyes widened ever so slightly. Kyle kissed his wrist again as his posture and face eased into a relaxed state.

"There's the Craig Tucker I know and love."

"Please save me from the Hollywood madness," Craig leaned over and murmured in his ear before kissing his temple.

"I'll keep you grounded all right," Kyle raised an eyebrow playfully soliciting one of those smirks he loved and the two turned their attention back to the stage of the award show as the ceremony staff signaled a return from commercial break. Craig took a deep breath as they began the list of nominees for the Best Director award.

Craig squeezed Kyle's hand again as a camera invaded their space while the announcer boomed, "Craig Tucker, Showa." A quick clip aired on the jumbo screen and Kyle grinned at Craig. He was so proud and impressed, like Craig had been, that the awards committee would even consider the film that had sparked much controversy about the Showa emperor of Japan. The subject was something of interest to Craig, however, and the attention he paid to the script, costumes, score, and everything Kyle didn't even know was involved in the filmmaking process obviously had paid off. It better have, he joked to Craig earlier that day, or else all the sexless nights were for naught.

The actor reading out the nominees flirted with the ballot and Kyle smirked as he swiftly slid his hand to Craig's bouncing knee in an effort to calm him down. He barely had time to process the sly look the actor gave them from the podium before he shouted out Craig's name on national television. Craig was visibly stunned and Kyle jumped up and pulled Craig out of his seat.

"Seven awards," he hissed excitedly in his ear and gave his cheek a quick peck. He knew Craig would win and grasped Craig's agent's hand as they watched him slowly make his way to the stage. Craig had a hand covering his mouth and looked completely numb and a little sweaty. Kyle felt like he wanted to cry as the entire auditorium offered a standing ovation while Craig shook hands with the actor and accepted his award. Kyle sat back down and took every shaky breath with Craig as they both fought to calm their nerves. He gave Craig an encouraging nod before he looked towards the camera.

"I want to thank everyone here," Craig's deep monotone voice seemed just the slightest bit shaky as his gray eyes pierced into the dark jaws of glamorous Hollywood. He swallowed the dry lump in his throat as he realized he was officially in the elite category now. "My family, my teachers, the cast and crew, and the film company." He felt his confidence growing as he looked down at Kyle's smiling face and smiled back, surprised at the amount of love that poured into his voice. "And Kyle. I love you and thank you for all the sacrifices you've made for me. Now we can buy a house and I promise to help you decorate it and you can put this thing where ever the hell you want."

Kyle laughed giddily with the crowd and applauded as Craig exited the stage, letting a few happy tears streak down his face. There was another listing of nominees for Best Picture and Kyle and the agent exchanged hopeful smiles as Craig's film was named. It had been an incredible night and winning that award would cement Craig's place in the industry indefinitely. Kyle held his breath until the envelope was opened and gasped for breath when the crowd roared.

Craig won. It was only his second major film and it won Best Picture. Immediately, the people surrounding him began shaking his hand and offering congratulations. He quickly dried his face and thanked each and every one of them. The producers hauled ass to the stage and someone had fished a now visibly shaken Craig from the backstage paparazzi to stand with the key actors while the ceremony ended. It took twenty minutes of shaking hands and idle chit chat with glamorous movie stars and the few members of the crew he could remember before Craig came into view. He was marching straight towards Kyle with his directing award in hand and shoved it into the congratulating hand of his agent before knocking himself into Kyle for a bruising kiss. The small circle of crew around them were jubilant and Kyle's face was red and grinning as Craig's cracked into the most excited smile he had ever seen.

"I want a house and a baby," he breathed in Kyle's pleasantly surprised face.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I love you so much," Kyle threw his arms around Craig's neck earning him another kiss before they were whisked away on another round of hand shaking.

It took two years, seven months, one week, and three days before they finally found out they were expecting.

"That doesn't sound right at all," Kyle knew that Stan was pinching the bridge of his nose as he grinned into the phone.

"Melissa has been very sweet to us. She's happy that the baby is going to be in such a loving home."

"God, you already sound like a mother," Stan teased. "How is Mr. Hollywood-hotshot-director?"

"He's painting the baby's room, actually. They're supposed to be doing some final edits or something later on tonight so I probably won't see him for another three days," Kyle sighed.

There was silence as Stan contemplated this. "Are things okay?"

"Mm-hm," Kyle smiled softly. "He's really good at his job, Stan. I don't want to get in his way."

Stan scoffed. "Bull shit, Kyle. You guys are about to be parents. He needs to put family first."

Kyle laughed and thought about the photo Stan had sent him a few weeks ago of him and his wife with their newborn baby girl. They were 25 and finally starting families of their own. He idly thought how strange friendship was that they were able to share the experience at the same time. "I'll make sure he keeps his focus."

Stan grumbled. "You do that. No super best friend of mine is going to become a second-class citizen in his own home." Stan paused, enjoying the content silence of happiness he knew Kyle was exuding even from thousands of miles away. "So did you guys agree on a name yet?"

"We're going to name him David Stanley Tucker. After his godfather."

"He keeps crying," Kyle fought back worried tears as he cradled his son and phone at the same time. "I'm not sure if he's sick or if it's colic or what."

His mother made comprehending sounds on the other end of the line. "Well, first you need to calm down, bubbe. If you're stressed, he's going to sense that and get more anxious."

Kyle made a face.

"Take a deep breath," she commanded. Kyle did as she said, breathing in and out a few times while David continued to wail. He grumbled to himself as he began to feel a little better.

"That's good," she soothed. "Now, have you burped him lately?"

"Yes, after his breakfast," Kyle lifted his son to reposition him more comfortably on his hip.

"He's eating at regular times? Getting naps at regular times?"

"He's a baby, mom," Kyle tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice. "He doesn't exactly adhere to a strict sleeping schedule."

His mother chuckled softly and gasped with Kyle as the front door opened. Craig poked his head inside and grinned at Kyle then raised his eyebrow at the screaming baby in his arms. Kyle made a pleading face with him and Craig immediately dropped his bag and scooped his son up into his arms. Kyle properly held on to the phone as his jaw dropped.

"Daddy must be home," Sheila laughed as the crying stopped almost immediately following Craig's apprehending of the child.

Kyle closed the door and sighed. "I don't believe it. I'm outnumbered in my own home." He said goodbye to his mother and put the phone down before giving Craig a proper greeting of a kiss and bottle.

Craig grinned as he zoomed in on chubby red cheeks and a messy mop of blonde hair. David looked up at his father with large brown eyes and slapped his hands up and down, squealing. He had a three month break before pre-production would start on his first original screenplay, Maelstrom. He was particularly nervous about this production because it would be the first time he would be credited as writer, director, and producer. At the moment, however, he was busy making a home video of his son playing with a series of pots and pans in the kitchen. Kyle was wandering around their dining room on the phone with one of his fellow researchers. Every once in a while he would peer around the corner, eyes soft and adoring as he watched his boys playing.

Kyle had just finished his phone conversation and sauntered over to sit next to Craig in front of their oven. He looked bemused at the camcorder then applauded as their son beat a series of notes on a frying pan. He sighed happily and leaned his head against Craig's shoulder, smiling as an arm snaked around his waist. They continued to watch their child and Kyle felt warm and sleepy as the strain of working at the university and raising a child caught up to him.

"Da-da," a small voice woke him instantly. Craig lowered the camera and peered in astonishment at their son. "Da-da." He threw his wooden spoon at Kyle and looked to both his parents expectantly.

Craig immediately had him in his arms laughing "That's it, buddy!" while Kyle tried not to sob over the phone as he updated his mother on this momentous occasion.

The camera recorded an image of the floor for half an hour.

"You are not going to believe the mess that Emily made today," Kyle groaned into the phone. Some assistant rushed into the trailer Craig was using as his office/bedroom and immediately retreated when he saw the smile on the director's face. "Mom was scolding me for hours about her hair, too."

Craig's face fell slightly. "Oh, no, she didn't-"

"Yep," Kyle's lips popped as he ended the word. "She cut it herself."

Craig sighed but was very much amused. "She's still pissed that we're the Tuckers and not the Tucker-Broflovskis, huh?" Craig felt his heart ache with homesickness as Kyle laughed into the receiver.

"Craig isn't a very Jewish name," he exhaled with the practiced line he used on his mother every holiday meal they had had since the two got together.

"And Kyle is?"

"I only took your name for the celebrity that comes attached with it, you know." He paused then added thoughtfully, "And the insurance."

Craig chuckled and idly scratched his chin. He needed a shave. "Craig Broflovski," he tried for probably the thousandth time when the topic came up.

Kyle made a strangled sort of noise. "No good."

Craig shook his head. "You didn't have to take it, you know," he smirked at yet another assistant who rushed in, made a face, taking the statement completely out of context, and high tailed it out of his trailer.

"Are you ditching break time?" Kyle sounded genuinely upset. "That's the second time I've heard your door slam. Craig Tucker, if you go over on your deadline we're staying at your parents' this year for the holidays."

Craig grimaced and waved a hand as his personal assistant opened the door and made a meaningful gesture towards his watch. "All right, all right." He waited until the door closed behind him and stood up. He made sure no other people were approaching the door to walk in on him and held the phone to his ear with both hands.

"I miss you."

He could hear Kyle's smile on the other end. "I miss you, too. Go make another award worthy film," Kyle's voice took on an air of playfulness. "I want to redo the kitchen."

Craig laughed as the phone was wrestled from his grip by his personal assistant.

"Wave to Daddy, Steven," Kyle was gushing at their infant son and pointing to Craig with his video camera held up, filming his son's first birthday. Craig grinned as the one year old blinked at his parents and then slapped his chubby fist into the center of the cake. Kyle gasped and moved to grab a paper towel to clean up his son's arm only to turn around and have his face pelted with pieces of chocolate as the infant squealed in delight and threw another piece at his older sister. Dancing behind him and tugging at his pant leg was their oldest, whining about how he wanted that piece. Craig zoomed in on his son's cheerful smile and grinned back.

"That's my boy."

"But I don't want to go to school," David moaned as Kyle rubbed soothing circles on the five year old's back. "I want to stay home and watch Red Racer with Daddy."

Kyle shot Craig an irritated look as he affectionately ruffled their son's blonde hair and lifted the tiny backpack off the ground where it had been unceremoniously dropped five minutes ago. Craig held it up with an amused expression. It didn't seem all that long ago that he was heading off for his first day of school himself. It seemed to have played out in much the same way. He had huffed and flipped off his mother for making him go while his dad stood irritated by the car, waiting to drop the little bastard off. Craig then blinked and realized how much more love his own family had and turned to give Kyle one of their secret smiles only to frown deeply. Kyle's eyes were growing red and watery as he patted down their son's arms and tried to straighten his soft hair.

Craig grabbed David's arm and tugged him out of Kyle's grasp before the waterworks could start. By the time the week was over, he didn't know who was more distraught; Kyle because their little boy was growing up so fast with all the daily stories of his new friends or himself because Kyle withheld sex every night in retaliation for tearing his son away from him without so much as taking a David's First Day of School photo.

"You're the artist, Craig! You didn't even have a camera in your hand! How could you do that to me?"

"I love you, too."

It was the dream every director of his generation had and oh how he enjoyed the guild's disappointed faces when word went out that he, Craig Tucker, was going to direct the new Star Wars films. For years the public outcry for the final trilogy had fallen on deaf ears, but once the Lucas family reconsidered a heavy battle was waged over the question of who would direct them. Craig didn't know which of his tricks did it, but he had secured the job and was ever so eager to rush home and take Kyle in his arms and boast and brag and maybe get a little Jacuzzi action after the kids were put to bed.

What he didn't count on was that it would take six years of his life to finally complete the films. He suddenly had new appreciation for Peter Jackson and a patch of graying hair by his left temple. The wrap up party for the finale of all finales had carried on a little longer than most other wrap ups and Craig was acutely aware that even though he was smiling, Kyle was not in any mood to stay for the entire thing and get shitface drunk like Craig wanted. He managed to pull Kyle to the side where they were able to talk at a normal speaking level.

"What's up," he kissed Kyle's forehead gently.

"Did you know that David is playing baseball?"

Craig blinked. "No, I had no idea. How long-"

"Three months, Craig," Kyle sighed. "Emily had her big recital last spring and Steven is constantly seeing you on the news and watches that stupid interview on the Maelstrom DVD damn near everyday."

Craig's eyebrows furrowed. "He's too young to see that movie."

"He doesn't watch the movie, he watches the bonus features."

"Oh," Craig finished lamely.

"He talks to you – the you on the television screen – and then asks me why you don't respond to his questions," Kyle huffed in frustration and that meant he was on the brink of angry crying. He looked up at Craig. "He misses you."

"I know-"

"And you're missing out," Kyle said with more force than he intended as he crossed his arms and sighed. "I'm so proud of you, baby, really," he moved closer to Craig without tearing his eyes away, "and I know you still have another four months of promotions but after that… can't you take a break? It's been non-stop for you for the past ten years. Spend some time with our kids. They love you and need you right now. I need you right now."

Craig glanced back at the crew enjoying the release of stress that had built up during production and exhaled. David was going to be in middle school in the fall, Emily was in ballet or gymnastics or… hell he didn't even know anymore, and little Steven. That meant he was already in elementary school, Christ they were growing up. He nodded then turned back to Kyle and pressed their lips together gently.

When was the last time he had spent time with Kyle? Kyle's worried expression melted into one of the happiest smiles Craig had seen in a long while as understanding broke across his husband's face.

Too long, Craig mentally answered his own question.

"As you wish," they grinned and held on to each other for the rest of the night.

"I can't believe we're actually going this time," Kyle shook his head in disbelief as Craig hummed happily, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel. "Everybody's going to freak."

"They are not," Craig gently admonished and glanced in the rear view mirror. "Steven, I'd better not be seeing your butt out of that seat again."

"Emmy has all the crayons," their youngest whined.

"I do not," the ten year old snapped. "Coloring is for babies."

"Give your brother his crayons, sweetheart," Kyle sighed and nervously chewed his lip.

Craig looked at Kyle from the side then darted his eyes back to the road. It was such a waste of gas to drive from Los Angeles to South Park for their high school reunion, but they both agreed that a road trip was a great solution to figuring out the summer vacation debacle since the kids had plotted together in protest of being sent away to camp. Craig decided it would be good, he had never gone away for a trip when he was their age, and even though they were just driving back to South Park for a week he knew it wasn't really the destination that was important. Then again…

"Say, why don't we keep going after we get to South Park?"

Kyle's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "We promised we would be there, Craig, we can't ditch."

Craig smirked, lines creasing on his face, and glanced at Kyle. "I meant after that. The kids didn't want to go to camp because it's boring, but sitting around while a bunch of lame adults talk about their past isn't much better, right?"

The two youngest exchanged smiles and even David pulled himself out of his pre-teen funk to sit up straight.

Kyle observed all this and chewed the inside of his lip. "Where do you propose going?"

Craig mulled over possible ideas and was happy that Kyle had been so meticulous with their finances to afford a last minute change in plans. Not that they couldn't either way with all his movie earnings. He sighed dramatically and made a bored face at his kids through the rear view mirror.

"I suppose your father would prefer something educational," he didn't even flinch as Kyle playfully hit him on the shoulder. "How about a tour of the nation's capital?"

"Fuck that-"

"DAVID," Kyle bellowed and shot his son a meaningful glare when the teen shrugged.

"All I've ever wanted was to go to Disney."

The younger two gasped and started chanting "Disney, Disney" while Craig laughed and Kyle looked around in exasperation then sighed and turned to Craig.

"Well?"

"It seems we're going to Florida next."

"Come on, please?" David used his big, brown eyes trick knowing it only worked on his father, but sometimes if the mood struck him his dad would fall under its spell.

Craig shook his head with a smirk and brushed some of his salt and pepper hair out of his eyes. "Your father would be sorely disappointed if you didn't start college in the fall, David."

His son made a face. "I've been in all these advance classes and shit all my life," he sighed, thankful that his dad was more accepting of his vocabulary, "I just want a break. Not even for a year."

Craig studied his son thoughtfully and crossed his legs. He was due to spend the next five and a half months in Prague filming another war movie and for some inexplicable reason David wanted to tag along. Not once had his son shown an interest in Craig's work and he had to admit to himself that it was kind of flattering. He took a deep breath.

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Of course," David grumbled and slumped in his seat. "He said it was important to push through school and get ahead. Don't be a slacker, David." He mimicked his father's voice and Craig laughed softly at the irony.

"You still haven't decided on a major?"

"He said I should take my basics until inspiration strikes," David shrugged.

Craig pursed his lips in a smile. Kyle was going to kill him. "Tell you what, I could use an assistant to help organize our production notes and fetch me coffee. You'll be my gofer, got it?"

David looked hopeful and nodded.

Craig lifted a finger, "The condition is that you sign up for online classes. You aren't going to get out of starting college without an idea of what you want to do with your life… but I understand that you probably just want a change of scenery."

David grinned and pounced off the couch and awkwardly hugged Craig. "Thanks, Dad. Really."

Craig smiled and waved him off to break the news to Kyle. He waited, finishing his cigarette as the exasperated shouts echoed from the kitchen. As soon as his name was called he snuffed out the end of his cigarette and decided it was an opportune moment to hide out in his dark room.

Kyle studied the seventeen year old standing nervously in his foyer. He had never seen this kid before at any of the school functions he attended and fought back the urge to interrogate him for information. He really was becoming his mother.

"So how long have you known Emily?"

The teen shuffled from one foot to the other. "We've been friends since middle school. We've actually been dating for a few months, Mr. Tucker, sir."

Kyle blinked and frowned to himself at the thought of his daughter keeping this kind of information from him.

Before the teen could reassure the overprotective father they were distracted by the sound of footsteps and video camera as Craig walked backwards down the stairs, filming their daughter in her flowing sapphire prom dress. Kyle's heart ached as she smiled shyly at the camera and her date. She was a genuine princess.

Craig lowered the camera and switched it to take photos of the couple, then one of Kyle with Emily and then called Steven into the foyer to take one of the fathers with their daughter. He kissed her on the temple, careful not to disturb her curly up-do and patted her date on the shoulder.

"You make her cry; I kick your ass."

The boy looked slightly star-struck as he properly escorted Emily to their ride.

"Wow, threatened by the Craig Tucker."

Kyle looked around the small dorm room sadly and wondered when he became such a chick about everything. Steven was dumping out the last box of video games he brought on his bed while Craig finished assembling his bookcase.

"That ought to hold," Craig groaned as he stood up from his crouched position, knees popping audibly.

"Damn, Dad," Steven raised an eyebrow. "Getting kind of old to be in that position?"

Craig stretched and responded with his middle finger causing the boy to laugh and Kyle to gasp.

"He's your son, Craig!"

"Right smart bastard if you ask me," but he was grinning.

Kyle fussed with Steven's closet and adjusted the framed photos of the family Kyle insisted he bring to school. Steven shoved his hands in his pockets and looked very small and too grown up at the same time. Craig snickered and wrapped an arm around Kyle's shoulder, bringing him in for a half hug, and buried his face in his thinning red hair.

"It's time to go."

"No," Kyle whined and twisted his fingers in the front of his shirt. "He hasn't properly made his bed or gotten any groceries yet."

Craig sighed and pulled out his wallet with his free hand and passed over some money to Steven. "Christ, Kyle, we've done this two times already. You'd think you'd be used to it by now."

Kyle sniffed loudly and puffed up his chest a little. "But he's my baby," he covered his mouth with his hands and Craig and Steven exchanged uncomfortable faces.

"And you're embarrassing him in front of the whole hall," Craig sighed and kicked the door closed on a few bewildered faces passing by in the hallway. He guided Kyle to Steven and smiled as all the air was squeezed out of his body as Kyle hugged him.

Craig was able to pry Kyle away after a few minutes and mussed his son's hair before parting ways until Thanksgiving. When they got back to their home Kyle looked mournfully at the empty space. He sighed as Craig came up behind him and pulled him to his chest. They entwined their fingers over Kyle's stomach and stood in silence for half an hour.

"Dad," David licked his lips nervously as he held the hand of a very pretty brunette seated beside him. "We've decided to get married."

Craig blinked in surprise while Kyle jumped up to hug Jennifer then his son.

"I knew it," Kyle beamed. "I'm so happy for you two."

It was a sunny afternoon when the doctor told Craig that Kyle was going to die. He stood upright, like a man ought to, and nodded automatically as the doctor explained procedures and how comfortable he would be in the hospital his last days. Emily was standing, tearfully to his right and clutching at his hand. She thanked the doctor and was in the middle of discussing room arrangements when Craig interrupted them.

"I'm taking him home."

The doctor looked at him uneasily. "Mr. Tucker, that will only exacerbate his condition. We can make him comfortable."

Anger swelled up inside him. "No," his jaw trembled in defiance.

Emily looked shocked and quickly stepped between her father and the doctor. "Maybe we need some time…"

"No," Craig turned on his daughter, her husband at her side at once to place a reassuring hand on his in-law's shoulder. "He will be with family."

He looked at his daughter's anxious face and the faces of his other children and grandchildren. This was Kyle's legacy – their family. He deserved to die surrounded by loved ones, not some harpy who would forget his name or sell the story of how Craig Tucker, the film director, was bawling his eyes out over the death of his husband to the first reporter that happened across the story. Besides, Kyle had spent years working on their home, it was full of color and joy and sun and none of this cheap white linoleum and sterilization. He knew Kyle would feel more… well, more alive at home where compassion was evident in every nook and cranny. This was the right decision.

"We're taking him home."

Craig did just that. He arranged for everything Kyle would need to be brought to their home. He was severely weakened from his treatments but somehow still managed to fuss with Craig about the stupid expenses of having the machinery invade the sanctity of their bedroom. Craig laughed at this and told him to shut up and open his mouth for another spoonful of soup.

"I want to be in the backyard," Kyle squeezed Craig's hand, marveling at the ring that matched his own on his left hand. "Next to the lilies." They had made it to another anniversary.

Craig looked at him, vulnerability in his eyes. "So we still want to convert the house into a library?"

Kyle smiled and nodded.

"Bookworm," then Craig took a shaky breath and kissed him.

Kyle died three days later.

He barely registered when acquaintances from his years in the business came up to him, offering condolences and remarking on the service. He was more grateful now than ever that their children had decided to stay at the home during the last few weeks. All of the sons had done a remarkable job on the arrangements while the daughters took care of their own children and kept Craig occupied until the day of the funeral. Most of that time had been spent on the back porch. Even though he laughed sadly with the others at the antics of his grandchildren, he kept spying the empty chair to his left and swallowed thickly as he realized it would remain that way.

He blinked detachedly as yet another lawyer or agent or some nobody and his wife offered condolences and shook his hand. He wanted this whole affair to be over with soon even though he didn't have the slightest idea what he was going to do later in the day, the week… the month… ever…

"Craig," a dark shadow loomed in front of him and extended its hand. It was stupid, Craig thought as he slowly looked up at the familiar albeit aged face lined with genuine grief. They hadn't spoken in years, yet Craig had always suspected that Kyle kept up this one piece of Old Home.

"Stan."

They looked at one another for the longest time. Eventually, Emily noted the silence and came over with concern marked on her brow. She looked questioningly from Craig to Stan and extended her hand.

"Emily Harding," she smiled as Stan shook her hand then acknowledged the woman standing next to him. "I'm their daughter."

The woman shot Stan a concerned look then smiled at Emily. "I'm Angie, this is my father Stan Marsh. He and your father were very good friends in childhood."

Emily smiled. "Yes, yes, Stan Marsh!" She patted his arm. "Father spoke about you often."

Stan gave a meek smile and looked at Craig. Craig stared back, feeling emptier than ever.

"Jesus Christ, Tucker," Stan spat and sighed softly. "You look like shit."

Craig didn't respond and tuned out the admonishments of the surrounding attendees.

"We need some scotch," he looked to Emily, who blinked and pointed dumbly in the direction of the kitchen. "Come on then," Stan hesitantly put an arm on Craig's back and led him in the direction pointed out to him. By this point, Craig and Kyle's children had all spied the exchange and moved to follow. Craig looked at them and shook his head, they understood and occupied Stan's daughter with idle chit chat about their families.

The kitchen was packed and Stan must have acquired a short temper in his old age and looked to Craig for navigation. He took a deep breath and led Stan through the kitchen and to the library – Kyle's library – where he shut the door behind them and gestured to a small bar in the corner. Stan chuckled to himself as he shuffled over to it and rummaged around until he walked over a bottle of something and two glasses. They sat on opposite sides of the desk Craig had imported from Germany for Kyle to use as his office space, Craig sitting in Kyle's seat and Stan occupying the plush chair opposite.

Stan poured them each a generous serving into the glasses and slid one over for Craig. Craig took it in his hand and stared dumbly at the photos on the desk. Him and Kyle on a vacation in their 40s, Steven's family portrait from two years ago, David and Jennifer's wedding photo, Emily and her fathers beaming proudly with her doctorate, all the grandkids eating ice cream in the backyard. Stan swallowed a lump in his throat as he lifted his glass.

"To Kyle."

Stan took a long drink as Craig leaned over the desk, grabbing the first photo of him and Kyle together that Clyde took all those years ago. It was the only time he cried.

A/N: Okay, so the only thing left to say is that I'm actually sorry about this chapter because it was ridiculously sappy. I wanted to write up till their deaths because people rarely write up till a couple's death but this was sappy and lame.

Well, I only have to say that if I get interested in this again I'll totally work on it but in the meantime… enjoy this!