In the cold early Saturday morning, a single bus pulled into the station of South Park. Hissing out, blowing smoke out skywards from its exhausts, lowering it's suspension and popped up its doors. From behind them stood a larger in stature young man, cyan colored knit cap over his head and head down as he descended the few steps onto the sidewalk.

"Y'all have a good one now!" The older gentleman behind the wheel shouted as the doors shut behind the young man.

The town of South Park had never looked so beautiful.

The dirt and snow, the stinging cold, the bum camps out by the storage buildings. The distant smell of manure and foliage, not to mention the general boring scenery of the town architecture.

Removing his hat and gazing around him, Eric Cartman was happy to finally be home.

He stood outside the bus station suitcase in twoe, hair neat trimmed, wrapped in a thick red coat similar to that of the one from his childhood, back jeans and snow boots. He to a deep breath to really soak into the fact that he was finally home-far, far away from that horrid learning facility concentration camp his bitch mother shipped him off to.

The smiles, the rainbows. The glossy eyes of the fools who bought into the propaganda the big heads running the camp would stuff down their throats, the stupid borderline pedifile baiting uniforms he would. He remembered the first days and the final hours of him being there, the rest blurred together in a hellish Pollack painting of bunnies, smiles, and the many, many unwanted bear hugs he was given.

Which lead to his escape-recovery. Eric Cartman was reborn-a fresh faced young man, his eyes opened wide to the world brimming with positive qualities and lovely people. No longer did he seek out trouble, thrust his unwarranted hate towards his colleagues, or attempt to alter the faith, fate, or power of the small mountain town.

Yes, the Eric Cartman walking abouts the main streets in a confident stride was of a purer elk. And looked forward to seeing his good friends after what felt like ages prior to his imprisonment-departure.

Why, just as Cartman thought of maybe stopping somewhere to grab a bite after his long bus ride home a poor defenseless bum sitting outside the post office stood up with his hands extended.

"P-Please sir," the unfortunate spoke with a scratchy beard and oversized flannel coat, "spare some change?"

Eric smiled, the clouds above them parting in tears and allowing the sun hiding to shed god rays over the reformed Cartman. He leaned forward, grin spreading across his lips.

"Get a fucking job, you disgusting hippie!" He shouted, scaring the old bum and sent him retreating back towards the bus station. "And you smell like raccoon piss!"

As he disappeared down the block, Cartman took a deep breath and breathed back out into a smile.

"Home sweet home," He grinned.

Clyde Donovan stirred the sinking mound of whip cream into the hot chocolate, biting his tongue in thought. Craig Tucker sat in lulled with his coffee across from him. His stirring eventually ceased, studying his childhood friend with his thoughts cycling like the whirlpool just beneath the paper rim before him.

The scent of Tweek Bros was a blending of roasting coffee beans and the sweet fresh baked pastries behind the counter. Smooth jazz filled the air, occasionally broken by the grinding of beans or steaming milk at the espresso bar.

"Hey man," Clyde spoke just louder than muttering, "Can I ask you something honestly?"

The teen gave a absent shrug, earning an exhale from Clyde looking for the right words. "What...when, like-" He crossed his arms, turning his stared to the ceiling in a search for what he wanted to say.

Craig knitted his brow, finding light amusement in it. "Can you tell me what you find, like, attractive about him," He said, his eyes falling from above and into the cup then back up to Craig, "like, I get you both have been...intimate, but…"

The sullened Tucker flicked his blues to Donovan's. "What attracts you to Bebe?"

"She's hot," Clyde answered immediately, "She's pretty, and smart and just the best chick in the world-duh! What does that have to do with Marsh though?"

Craig shifted uncomfortably in his seat, peeking over his shoulder and reaching beneath his knit hat to scratch his head. "Promise me you won't laugh. Or act weird."

Taking another sip of his drink, Clyde fixated his gaze in earnest. "Of course, man."

Craig gave a sigh, "Alright well...I believe underneath the thick headedness, the alcoholism, and borderline middle school logic and reasoning," Craig took a deep breath, "Stan is the most caring, kind hearted guy in South Park. And I can't think of another person like him."

Clyde eyed his friend, taking a sip from his hot chocolate while Craig continued. "I should've just been more forward." he sighed, "But now, I have to just let him have his space with Kyle."

Clyde frowned at that. Craig took a sip of his coffee, the steaming black medium roast soothing his taste buds.

Clyde pouted, feet lightly kicking. "I'd kick his ass."

"I know Clyde."

"Like for real," Clyde pressed his index finger atop the table. "Call me-it'll take ten seconds; five to get there, three to crush him, and two to point and laugh."

Craig felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Appreciate it, dude."

Clyde smiled, "And don't get me wrong, I was starting to think that you two would actually make an interesting couple."

Craig peered over his cup. "How? Him and Kyle were obviously made to be annoying together."

"Pffft, aw and then you get all pouty!" Clyde snickered. "Okay, Bebe's kinda right. That's adorable."

"Fuck you and Bebe," Craig glared, pulling his coffee cup to his lips and flicking Clyde off.

Clyde pretended to wipe tears from his eyes just as the bell above the front doors rung. His smiled quickly faded, his hand falling to the table before locking eyes with his friend. "Red alert!" He hissed, "Red alert!"

"What are you talking about?" Craig tilted his head as he watched Clyde slump lower in his seat. He turned slightly in his chair and found what Clyde had ment, his stomach falling to his feet. His eyes locked on to a forest ushanka and back of Kyle Broflovski's signature orange coat. He leaned over onto the counter while he read out a list to the barista behind the bar.

"Fuck…" He cursed under his breath, facing away and forcing himself to remain calm. As long as he didn't see him, he had nothing to worry about. Even if he had, it's not as if he would even want to talk. For all he knew, Kyle hated him and would rather anything than a conversation with him of all people.

"Stay calm," he heard Clyde whisper, peeking over the side of the table.

"Get up!" Craig hissed back, turning to the few sitting around them indulged in newspapers. "You're make a fucking scene!"

"And make sure to use almond milk," Kyle said over the bar, "my friend could use less lactose, if you know what I mean."

He turned so that his back as against the counter, nose buried in his texting back and forth between him and Stan. His boyfriend-wow that is weird to say still- and Kenny were waiting outside the Cartman residence in wait of their returning forth-a day Kyle couldn't believe would possibly the highlight in the past week.

Crash!

"Shit!"

"Ugh, it's all over me…"

Kyle snapped his eyes up to see a table capsized, Craig Tucker helping Clyde Donovan-covered in presumingly hot chocolate-off the floor.

"Geez, sorry man," Clyde grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

Craig shook his head, using a few napkins to wipe off the seats and table top help Clyde. "Why does everything with you end up with you covered in something?"

"Not everything!"

"I swear, if Token and I weren't with you at all times…"

"Uh…"

Craig froze, Clyde staring past him to the jew standing behind them. He held a bundle of paper towels and fighting a smirk. "Need some help?"

Craig stared back, before accepting and turning back to right the table. Onlookers watched as the three wiped off the table and another barista soon joining them in the clean up. After the clean up, Clyde rushed to the restroom in an attempt to clean himself off, leaving Craig and Kyle alone with each other

The raven haired boy pinched the bridge of his nose. Kyle sat beside him holding the remainder of unused paper towels as the barista muttered swears and moped away the rest of the mess.

"Babysitting." Was all Craig said, shaking his head with coffee in twoe. Kyle gave a sigh, eyeing the counter across the room. Neither had said much to each other in the clean up.

Since the only employee on the clock was cleaning up after the hijinks, Kyle sipped his cappuccino in lull of the situation while the other three drinks he had ordered sat written on empty paper cups on the pick up bar.

He chanced a glance in Tucker's direction; Sitting slumped over and completely embarrassed or pissed, Craig looked anywhere but to Kyle. His coal black boots had sprinkles of drying chocolate as well as the light brown splatter on his jeans. Clyde's jacket took most of the spillage and noted the smell still present in the air.

He kicked his feet softly, feeling the still awkward silence eating at him little by little. "So what have you been up to?" He offered to the quiet Craig, not out of curiosity but to chip away at the icy wall between them given recent events. "Haven't really seen you around at school, I mean. Been sick?"

Craig dropped his hand from his face, a look of ambiguity still meeting the floor. "Y-Yeah. Been feeling a cold or something."

"Ah," Kyle replied, nodding into his cup. Seconds passed, Craig fidgeting and Clyde still in the restroom. "I want to say something."

Oh no.

Craig then glared at the floor, unresponsive.

Kyle bit his tongue, tasting the espresso still fresh on his taste buds. "I want to try and understand things. I get with this kind of thing it's not really a clear view-what I'm trying to say his," he turned in his seat. "We never hung out before Stan and you got close, and I opted out of every opportunity because I just..."

Craig eyed the jew, furrowed brow and lips parted.

"I was jealous," Kyle forced a chuckle, "and I guess part of me now sees that." He bit his lip, looking right at Craig, "What I'm saying is that I'd like us to be friends."

"...What?" Said a small surprised voice secreeting from the boy beside him.

"I mean, seeing as how we both in some way care for Stan right?"

Craig's head was starting to hurt, the barista having moved on to Kyle's order. "Wait...so you're not mad at me?"

Kyle smiled again, another laugh falling from his lips. "I guess a little bit? I think it's because I'm also kind of mad at myself. It could have easily been you, you know?"

Kyle's smile faltered slightly, fingers clutching the coffee cup tighter. "He almost swears by you with Kenny and I," he told Tucker, "You were there for him and that kept him happy, which does still mean a lot to him. In extension, that means a lot to me too."

"I mean," Craig scratched his ear, "We both kinda kept each other afloat for awhile. I wasn't in the best space of mind for awhile, to be honest."

Kyle listened, biting the inside of his cheeks while Craig searched the boards beneath them for words. "Despite how much they're there, Token and Clyde can't meet me on that level of self loathing, or completely pull me out of it sometimes." He glanced to Kyle, "If that makes sense."

"No, it does." Kyle smiled, toying with the cup in his hands. "Stan unfortunately knows how that is. His drinking a reoccuring side effect."

"I tried to stop him once," Craig murmured. "From drinking, couples months back."

"Oh? What happened?"

"We made out in his car."

The two fell in silence, the surrounding patrons engaged with laptops and coffees while smooth jazz played on air between the two teen boys. At some point, the barista called out Kyle's order and he stood from his spot by Craig.

"Sorry."

Craig buried his face into his hands, feeling as if he would willing let God take him from his mortal coral were he given the chance in his stupid mistake.

"Hey."

Craig looked up, Kyle holding a cup tray of varying sizes of cups within. He offered a smile, tilting his head with his phone in his spare hand.

"We should get together," Kyle said, still grinning. "Bring Clyde and Token, Stan would be down, and it would be a good opportunity to turn things around a little bit."

Craig studied Kyle's expression. The smile sat to purely on his litely rosey lips, his freckles drowning his cheeks wrapped in the curls seeping out from beneath the ushanka keeping the rest of the thousand curls atop the ginger's head in check. Eyes staring back at him awaiting his answer, the light sheen over the sparkling green like rare minerals.

A single word tease and at the end of his tongue but would refuse to be uttered.

Kyle's smiling mug never faltered however, and he simply nodded. "I get it if you're not, but I mean if you still have Stan's number I can have him text you mine if you're interested after all." He turned towards the front doors of the coffee shop before flicking his head back. "Later, dude!"

The doors swung shut behind him, the cold air shooting out past him greeted Craig in a second's embrace and stung his nose. The words sat on the roasting scent in the air before him, the spot where he stood once stood forever disturbed him.

"Hey, man! Sorry I took so long," Clyde returned, smiling as he wiped off his hands. "Don't think I'll ever be able to wash out the smell-Wait, what happened?"

Craig eyed the spot, his heart uneasy and hands uneasily holding the coffee cup.

"Craig?" Clyde reached down and shook the teen's shoulder. "Did you guys fight, what happened?"

"No," Craig said, shaking his head before pushing away Clyde's hand and rising from his seat. "Come on, let's go to Token's."

As he approached the door, Craig was tugged back by Clyde. He wanted to turn and yell at his friend, but found him staring back with concern. "I meant it when I said that I'd be there as quick as you needed me."

Craig stared back with tired eyes, tongue poking around at the inside of his cheek. "I mean it, I'm fine."

Letting out a sigh, Clyde nodded and the two departed