Author's Note 1: Tags for - Major Character Death(s), Torture, Suicide, Alcohol, Sex, Swearing.
Author's Note 2: I decided to edit and post the completed version as a one-shot. Thank you to everyone who is/has read, reviewed/followed/faved. I appreciate it so much.
It rained. And it had been for 5 days now, ever since that Sunday.
The rain was constant. It did not come and go. It was not soft either. It was hard rain. The kind that is bitter and stings your skin, relentlessly striking at the earth, beating it down and then washing it away.
The sky was dark because as long as it had been raining, there had been no sun. Just the same, ever present steel gray-never lightening nor darkening.
It was funny what changed and what stayed the same. Weather was supposed to change. It was divided into seasons. Differences in pressure, temperature brought new weathers: wind, hail, snow. These were natural forces. Things outside of anyone's control.
But for Craig Tucker, emotions did not change from day to day. There were no seasons and no other force controlled them but him. His feelings ran deep. Silently and sacredly held, Craig kept his emotions beautifully locked within a guarded prison.
The priest finished his final "Amen", closing the Bible and his eyes in a moment of silence. Mr. And Mrs. Tweak looked on. They wore the same detached expression toward their dead son as they had when he was alive. Craig watched them from across the open grave, an impassable space that divided them into two distinct factions. Those who knew Tweek Tweak - really knew him - and those who did not. Craig knew he was in the former. There was no doubt.
Craig watched as they lowered the casket into the ground. It was so still. A motionless box of wood. It seemed wrong to put him in a narrow box like that. Tweek was always moving, always twitching. How could he move around in there?
The coffin hit the ground with a thud. Numbly, he watched as dirt was thrown down. Slowly but surely cementing his love under ground. Tweek hated small confined spaces, Craig remembered. They terrified him.
Suddenly, Craig was glad for the rain. Glad because no one could tell he wasn't crying. At least not outwardly - he knows he is unable to show any emotion. Craig cursed himself for not being able to give that to Tweek. To cry for him when he deserved it. To show him how devastated he felt inside.
Broken and alone, he watched on. His soul burning in agony but his face expressionless. On and on, until the last shovelful of dirt fell.
Craig's fingers softly traced the other boy's jaw line. He trembled in Craig's arms.
Craig held him tighter, reassuring him. His fingers curling around the other's chin, Craig pulled him close. Tweek's eyes were round and bright. His body still shook. Little breaths, sweet and coffee scented, warmed Craig's face.
His thumb pressing Tweek's bottom lip as his other hand gripped at the back of Tweek's shirt. They're bodies pressed together, hot and trembling, each boy hard and aching with anticipation but nervous at the newness of it all.
When their lips met, it was a passionate collision. Wet, sweet lips bit and sucked while tongues explored. Craig realized that Tweek was no longer twitching – possibly for the first time in his life.
"Craig?"
Craig slowly raised his head. A tall, blonde boy stood before him. His heart skipped a beat. Tweek?
"Craig?"
Craig blinked. No. It wasn't Tweek. It was Kenny standing on the other side of the table, looking concerned. Craig continued to silently regard him, wearing the same apathetic expression.
"Mind if I, uh, eat lunch with you?" Kenny asked, trying hard to be casual – something that usually came easily to him.
Dull gray eyes continued to stare up at him. Kenny took his silence as a 'yes' and sat down at the table.
It was just Kenny and Craig. Which Kenny felt was an improvement, since the in two weeks following Tweek's death, Craig hadn't allowed anyone near him. Any time any person tried to get close, tried to talk with him, Craig would simply walk away without a word.
"So…nice day today, huh?" Kenny offered, scrambling to make the best of this opportunity.
"If you like rainy days," Craig replied dryly.
Kenny glanced from Craig to the window. It was sunny out. Really sunny and not a cloud in the sky.
"Yeah. Ok," he said slowly, taking a small breath. Why not just go for broke? "Look Craig, wanna come by my place tonight? I got your favorite beer and movies. We'll get wasted and – he was going to say 'it'll be like old times'. Kenny did not want to remind him of the past right now – it'll be awesome!" he finished awkwardly.
Craig was silent. But Kenny was almost sure he saw something else behind those lifeless gray eyes. Some desperate emotion, wrestling around Craig's mind.
"Please," Kenny pushed a little more, with all the charm he had.
And there it was. Craig sighed heavily, "Ok."
As Craig watched Kenny walk away, he was mesmerized by how much he reminded him of Tweek. Same hair. Same height. Same annoying habit of caring about Craig.
And Craig began to think maybe Tweek still existed somehow…inside of Kenny. No. No that's crazy. But then again, crazier things had happened, right?
Craig arrived at Kenny's house around 9:30 that night. Kenny opened the door wearing his trademark grin, a cigarette bouncing on his lip. "Come in, come in" he ushered Craig past the empty living room (where his parents were gone) and down the hall to the room he shared with Kevin. Electrical tape ran down the middle creating a division between whose room was whose. Kevin wasn't there however. And Kenny said he wouldn't be for a few days. Kenny seemed relieved at that. Craig felt indifferent. He didn't care much about who was or was not there these days.
Kenny directed Craig towards the bed on his side of the room. He handed Craig a beer and grabbed the movie choices.
"Ok, what do you want to watch?" He asked, holding the movies up.
"A movie" Craig replied flatly.
Kenny's face fell a little bit. "Good call," he quickly regained his smile, "we'll watch this one." He put the VHS into the machine. Fuck, Kenny's family was poor.
Kenny grabbed himself a beer and lit fresh cigarettes for himself and Craig before settling in next to him on the bed.
It was an older movie. One that Craig had seen a bunch of times. Where the hero, alone and trapped on an unexplored planet, stumbles across a race of vicious aliens and has to fight to stay alive. It really was one of his favorites – his favorite, actually. Craig always did have a thing for space.
But that wasn't the only reason it was his favorite.
Really, it was because he had watched it with Tweek. It was the first time that he had invited Tweek over to his house to watch a movie. No, not really, Craig thought. It was the first time he invited Tweek over to watch a movie after Craig realized that he had developed "feelings" for his anxious blonde friend. And it had taken a lot of convincing. It was a pretty suspenseful film, a lot of pressure for the pressure-sensitive Tweek. But he agreed to watch it. And he held on to Craig the whole time. Tweek was like that with Craig – loyal and trusting. Even if he was beyond scared, he believed in Craig enough to fight through it Tweek-style.
Craig remembered after the film, looking down at a trembling Tweek looking up at him with those trusting green-blue eyes. It was all Craig needed and he kissed Tweek right then and there. Their first kiss. Sweet and short and coffee flavored. Tweek was even warmer and softer than Craig imagined. It was like breathing for the first time.
Craig inhaled deep. Bitter chemicals swirled through his body. He loved the feeling of nicotine. The way it made the world sharper, harder. But he couldn't feel it now. Kenny shifted next to Craig. Impulsively, he reached out and grabbed Kenny's hand. It was bony and cold but strong and oddly soft. Kenny didn't pull away but he looked at him, a little uncertain or sympathetic. Craig couldn't tell which and he didn't really care. He rubbed a thumb over the back of Kenny's hand, like he used to do with Tweek and lost himself in memories once again. Reassuring himself that things could stay this way. He could relive all his moments with Tweek again through Kenny. That way he wouldn't lose him. Not really.
Kenny held Craig. It was so unusual. He never thought he'd be this close to Craig and now here he was, crying into Kenny's shoulder and Kenny had no idea why. Not that he got much of a chance to think about it because suddenly, Craig was pressing his lips into Kenny's.
Kenny jumped. His first reaction was to pull away, hands on Craig's shoulders to steady his friend. His eyes searched Craig's face but he could not read any emotion or intention behind the hollow gray eyes. Still, nervously he questioned, "Craig, are you sure?
Craig answered with more kisses. He was aggressive, tearing at Kenny's clothes and biting at his lips and neck. Kenny tried to slow him down but Craig wouldn't. And, even though he understood the situation perfectly (all too well actually – he was used to being used) Kenny wanted this - had been wanting it – for so long, so badly. With a low moan, Kenny gave in; lying back on the bed, letting the weight and heat of Craig cover him. Craig's body slid up over the top of Kenny's until they were face to face. Kenny had just enough time to stare up into those eyes, steel gray and dripping with lust, before Craig lowered himself down; his hands pinning Kenny down as his tongue pushed through Kenny's lips.
Kenny did his best to keep up, to make himself as available as possible but Craig was insatiable. A hand moved through blonde hair, roughly pulling Kenny's head back as Craig's mouth bit the sensitive area of Kenny's neck, causing Kenny to gasp and arch his back in pleasure. A low growl escaped from the back of Craig's throat. His other hand trailed slowly down Kenny's torso, fingernails dragging as they went. Kenny hissed at the feeling; pleasure and pain mixed so that they were no longer separate feelings.
There was a deep moan from the whole of Kenny's body as those fingers passed under his waistband, closing around his cock and began sliding up and down his length, slick with precum, making Kenny ache. It was so intense; he thought he could come from Craig's hand just as it was. He cried out, for what he didn't know, but it was silenced with a rough pair of lips and a hand pulling his head back even farther.
Kenny writhed in agony and bliss underneath Craig, no longer aware of anything else. Until, without warning, Craig pulled away. Kenny whimpered at the lonely feeling, the torment of being left burning like this.
Craig stared at him. Hungry, nearly black eyes drank him in. "Clothes off," he ordered. His voice hoarse with desire. Kenny's clothes came off, thrown to the floor, and ripped off Craig's too.
Once again, Craig straddled Kenny drinking in the sight of him; lean and muscular, with ice blue eyes and damp blonde curls clinging to his face, his cheeks flushed, lips parted, breathing heavily. Craig felt so powerful in comparison. He was more muscular, more solid, messy black hair falling across eyes that were like gray fire.
He slid his body once more over his lover's. Kenny moaned wantonly beneath him. Running a hand down, Craig's fingers stopped at the space between Kenny's legs, which were pressed together. Craig leaned into Kenny's ear and roughly growled, "Spread for me."
Kenny's legs snapped open, displaying himself for Craig, willingly his whore. Arousal growled from Craig's throat. A finger traveled further down along the tender skin, circling firmly Kenny's tight entrance, where no one had ever touched before. Kenny angled his hips up in anticipation. Pressing himself against Craig's finger, desperate for relief.
Craig wasted no time. One lubed finger pressed in, followed shortly by two and finally three.
Craig worked Kenny open, loosening him while strong fingertips massaged his prostate. His other hand stroked Kenny's cock in a slow rhythm-just enough to keep him at that edge but not enough to push him over. Kenny was nearly in tears, moaning and calling out Craig's name like a prayer. His head was spinning. He felt so much intensity and it was happening too fast. He couldn't continue like this. He needed release. Now. "Please. Craig, please!" Kenny begged.
"Please, what? I want to hear you say it," Craig demanded.
"Fuck me!" Kenny moaned, "Please Craig! I want you to fuck me!"
Craig bent down over him, feeling his heat race, biting at Kenny's ear. "Slut," he whispered into the damp blonde hair.
Craig positioned himself at the blonde boy's opening. It was the only moment Craig seemed to pause and consider what he was doing. But just as quickly, he was lost again. Kenny groaned as Craig's full length slammed inside of him. Kenny clawed at the sheets below him as Craig's body slid into his. Kenny's hips lifted to meet every thrust, back arching, his head thrown back in ecstasy. Craig continued his brutal pace, finding Kenny's prostate each time. It was all Kenny could do to hold on. His arms tight around Craig, nails digging into his back as if Craig was the only thing keeping Kenny together. Until finally, Craig came, namelessly crying out. Kenny's own orgasm blessedly following right after. Craig collapsed on top of Kenny, and Kenny held him there against his chest, sweaty and dirty, his thin fingers combing through the wet black hair. Craig let him. He didn't really care, lost in thought again. He supposed he had believed that having sex with Kenny would somehow have brought him closer to Tweek. It hadn't. Feelings, a thing Craig always tried to avoid, pressed down on him, crushing him. Memories of his beloved, whispers of conversations, faint laughter, images of a smiling blonde haired spaz, suffocated him. Once he was sure that Kenny had fallen asleep, Craig began to cry silent tears that he could no longer hold back until his body gave in from exhaustion.
Suddenly, Craig was conscious and for a fraction of a second, he had no idea where he was. Or why he was. Or who he was. He was just thoughts without a memory and without a future, totally alone in an endless black space. And in that brief moment, Craig felt at peace.
Craig opened his eyes and it all came rushing back. His fleeting sense of calm twisted back into tremendous pain.
The room came into focus before him. He was naked, in a dirty bed, tangled up in Kenny McCormick.
Kenny's face was peaceful, relaxed. His eyes were still closed. They were also a deep purple that suggested he usually didn't sleep well. Craig felt the weight of Kenny's arm around him. A protective gesture, he guessed. Or maybe it was gratitude. Kenny had seemed to enjoy himself, Craig remembered.
Carefully Craig rolled over and out of the bed. He stretched and checked the little beat up alarm clock on the windowsill. Red digital numbers read 4:23 a.m. He stood for a moment naked in a foreign bedroom and looked down at Kenny. Really looked. Suddenly he realized that he had been wrong. That actually, Kenny was not very much like Tweek at all. And worse, that didn't make him upset. Or sad. Or mad. It may have even made him a little happy. He continued to analyze Kenny, seeing him for the first time: his bony frame, his pale skin, his scarred body and those bright blue, impossibly hopeful eyes. Eyes that danced with laughter, even though Kenny had more reason to cry than half the town. His arm was still outstretched across the bed, unaware that the body it was keeping close was gone. The soul too, Craig supposed.
It was then that Craig felt it; a spark of some warm, traitorous emotion. He pushed it down and ran from it.
The McCormick's bathroom was dingy. It had just one bare light bulb, a cracked mirror and an old, worn enamel sink. For fucks sake there wasn't even a tub. Just a crappy little shower, covered in grime and barely big enough for one person. He rummaged around until he found it – a small razor. Calmly he left the bathroom, to the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge, a fresh cigarette tucked firmly behind his ear, and walked out the front door.
Craig made himself comfortable on the hood of his car, cracking open the beer to toast an imaginary Tweek. It was warm and bitter and he drank it down in one cruel long breath. It gave him a small rush and he easily shook it off. Shakily, he lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. Enjoying the way it mixed with the alcohol, the way it steadied his hands and made him numb.
He watched the horizon as he drew long drags. It was dawn. The sky was lightening, orange rising violently up through the fading blue. He watched the sunrise. And it truly was a beautiful view from where he sat atop his car parked on the McCormick's lawn.
But Craig couldn't see it.
All Craig saw was rain.
That's all he had seen since Tweek had died.
And Craig thought that would all he'd ever be able to see again.
"Fuck", he whispered.
He took his last drag and flicked it to the ground.
Slowly, he withdrew the razor. He forced himself to think of an infinite black eternity, calmly stretching on for all time. Washing away his pain. With a cold hand, Craig methodically carved deep cuts, twin vertical lines from his wrist to his elbow. Blood poured out, spilling out over his arms, his clothes - red rivers like veins spider-ing across the hood of his car.
He fell back onto the cool metal, the empty beer bottle crashing with a soft thud on the wet grass.
Finally free, he thought.
And for the first time, in a long time, Craig finally felt something.
He promised himself he'd keep his eyes open for as long as he could because Craig Tucker was not a coward and he was determined to leave this world bravely facing whatever came next.
Relaxing into this feeling, like fading slowly away, Craig looked up at the pale stars fading and laughed.
It had finally stopped raining.
Kenny woke up, sitting straight up in his bed, gasping for breath and covered in a cold sweat. A terrible feeling had come over him. A familiar feeling. With as many times as Kenny had died, he'd grown used to the feeling of Death but he had never become comfortable with it.
His gaze fell to his side. Where was Craig? Panicked gripped him, a fist closing tight around his heart. Kenny flew out of bed, a sense of urgency permeating his body. He went to his closet, heart racing, to check on his handgun. It was still safe in its shoebox but Kenny felt far from relieved. Quickly pulling on jeans, Kenny went to search for Craig, that feeling of panic only growing stronger.
He called out but no answer came.
He searched the house but Craig was clearly not inside.
And then Kenny threw the front door open and found him there. Bleeding, sprawled out on the hood of his car.
Solemnly he walked to Craig's side, all the urgency gone from his actions. There was no need to rush. There was nothing he could do to save Craig. He felt Death hovering just above him. Kenny knew Craig would be leaving soon.
He forced himself to look down at Craig. He was so pale. His skin ashen blue color, like some vibrant that had gone dull. He dared to inspect further, tenderly performing an unnecessary vitals check. He felt a faint pulse. Small, slow beats growing more infrequent. He felt shallow breathes, irregular and labored.
Gently, Kenny laid a hand on Craig's shoulder and looked into the face of the boy he'd loved for so long; a boy that he'd always been invisible to.
Dying before him.
Cold. Broken.
And alone.
Tenderly Kenny brushed the hair from Craig's face and bent down to his ear.
"Wait for me," he whispered, "I'll be right there." And placed one last kiss on the cool lips.
He no longer felt a pulse. There were no more breaths.
Somberly, he walked back to his room to the shoebox and pulled out the gun.
With all his experience, Kenny considered himself something of an authority on the afterlife. He knew where Craig was headed. He knew what waited for him once he arrived there.
Damned if he was going let Craig suffer there surrounded by infinite darkness in agony.
Maybe Craig didn't love him.
So, Kenny couldn't keep Craig alive, here with him.
Or make him whole again.
But he could do one last thing for him.
For the boy he loved.
A shot rang through the early morning air. Except no one was left to hear it.
Pain.
Craig screamed,
Endless pain.
blood sprayed from his mouth.
No light.
He blindly grasped at the darkness around him,
No warmth.
the cold stabbing his nerves,
No air.
every scream suffocated and buried in the empty hell enveloping him.
A jagged knife ripped through his flesh, carving a slow merciless path to his throat. He choked on the blood pooled in his mouth. He would suffocate to death, except he'd already died.
The agony lasted for days or maybe years. It felt like decades and there was no way to prove it wasn't.
And just like the torture, time continued eternally on.
Craig was helpless.
Helpless to do anything but cry, scream and feel. Any and every plea smothered by the unrelenting silence of this black void.
His body never went into shock. He was tortured until he was mess of bloody ribbons hanging loosely on bone - only for the process to again start anew, as if it was the first time.
And he felt all of it.
He continued to scream. For all the good it did him.
Until he couldn't remember words.
Until his voice was raw and bleeding and the blood clotted in his throat.
Until he didn't remember his name.
Or remember being human.
And all he knew was the darkness.
And the silence.
And the pain.
And then, suddenly, it all stopped.
And there was light.
Craig stretched out. And felt no pain. He meant to feel panicked. After all, he'd never moved without pain before. But, he couldn't bring himself to worry. He felt different. New. Like an echo. Infinite. And he felt like he would never be anything again. Be anywhere again.
Craig felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see a familiar reckless grin and those damn hopeful blue eyes.
"Found you" said the voice. A voice warm and sparkling like the light surrounding them. He thought he could remember that voice laughing, whispering words to him in the dark…
Craig looked around, "Was I lost?"
"Yes," said the voice.
"The darkness was my home…"
"No. No, I'm here to take you home."
"How did I end up there?"
"You wandered a long way," Kenny smiled sadly.
Craig didn't remember that.
"Where are we? It's bright here. Its so bright," Craig wondered.
"You just haven't adjusted yet. Open your eyes more."
Craig was confused but he did as Kenny told him to anyway.
As if he were a lens being adjusted, it was like a picture coming into focus.
And all of him came rushing back.
The air tasted sweet and the light was a warm blanket.
He heard faint voices like silver bells in a breeze.
There was green grass, warm and soft under his feet.
And a blue sky hung overhead.
He felt lighter. And then the light settled. It didn't fade away. It just kind of readjusted. Became permanent.
And Craig fell to his knees, "What is this?"
"This is where some souls call home," Kenny stated.
"Home," Craig repeated, tears rolling down his face.
Kenny placed both hands on his shoulders, raised Craig up and leaned in close. Gently, he kissed him and Craig felt so much love. He felt guilty for never noticing it. For treating Kenny as a Tweek substitute. And he suddenly got the feeling that Kenny was used to being used a lot. When Kenny pulled away, Craig could see tears brimming in his eyes. Kenny smiled and sighed, "Craig, turn around now."
And he did.
He felt Kenny, still holding on to him. Craig stared in the direction he now faced.
And there he was.
Looking happier than Craig had ever remembered.
Tall with messy blonde hair.
Eyes bright and beautiful.
Smiling in the surrounding light.
And Craig stood still - afraid to move in case Tweek might disappear.
But Tweek rushed forward, throwing his arms around Craig, and pressing his lips into Craig's passionately.
Kenny stood aside, chuckling to himself.
Craig sank into Tweek, holding him tightly.
"I can't believe you're really here!" Tweek exclaimed after some time.
Craig nodded wordlessly, but turned back to look at Kenny, "I'm not…supposed to be here, am I?"
Kenny shrugged, looking off to the side innocently, "Yeah, well, I called in a favor."
Craig opened his mouth but Kenny held up a hand.
"Whatever," Kenny grinned, "Alright well you two probably have some catching up to do." He winked.
"See ya around," Tweek called after him.
And Kenny shook his head and laughed as he faded away.