It was cold in that hospital room. The tile floors never knew anything else. The silence was deafening, the boy's constant chatter was absent.
Cold was the only thing Craig could feel now.
Cold was the snow. Cold was the breeze. Cold was the hospital bed.
His parents were informed of what happened and got on the quickest flight. Hopefully quick enough.
The doctors and nurses hadn't said much about his condition. All anyone could do was wait.
The air in the room was still for a very long time, until it was interrupted by dull, hesitant footsteps, followed by the soft compression of a chair to the left of the hospital bed.
Once again, everything stood still, all except a blonde boy with his head in his hands. No, this can't be it, not yet.
Kenny couldn't cry. He wouldn't allow himself. He scooted the chair closer to the resting body in front of him, the faint beep of the heart monitor at a steady pace.
He couldn't look at him. All he could do was stare at his hand. Nearly every other body part was damaged in some way, all except his hand.
He wanted to hold it. That was all he wanted. The same hand that threw stones in the pond. The same hand that punched Stan in seventh grade. The same hand that doodled guinea pigs with a ballpoint pen. The same hand that pulled the steering wheel. The same hand that used to rest on Kenny's. It fit perfectly there.
Not anymore.
Yesterday afternoon was when Craig told him.
He told him Kenny deserved better. He told him he didn't deserve to be with someone like him.
That was supposed to be the end of it. All of it.
Craig went home after that. Nobody knew what he did between the time he entered his apartment and the time of the accident. Nobody but Craig himself.
Kenny didn't let himself hold Craig's hand. He just stared. He still didn't cry, he couldn't, not yet. He just watched, his eyes finding Craig's face and sticking there intently. Craig never liked when he stared like that, he would normally tell him to fuck off, but clearly that wasn't an option in that moment.
Ken tried to imagine what Craig would say right now if he could speak. If glass hadn't pierced his skin in the worst places. If he could breathe on his own. If he could open his eyes.
He couldn't. No matter how ingrained Craig's nasally, monotonous voice was into Kenny's mind, he just couldn't find it in himself to hear it.
"Craig," He whispered in a hushed voice, as if his name was a secret, just for Kenny alone. "Did you know your name means ' rocks ' ?" He forced a giggle, choking back tears while clutching onto his parka. "Kenneth means handsome, I guess I win." He gave a fake smile and immediately huddled back into himself on the chair. He spoke into his sleeve. "You know it's funny cause like, I used to say your spirit animal was a rock. Remember?" Kenny waited a moment, peering out from his parka and fixating on Craig's hand once again.
Craig's body was tattered, mangled if you will. tubes and wires ran all over the bed, connecting to the boy at every possible location. Barely any pure, untouched skin was visible.
His parents would be there soon. What would they say? What would they do? How is a parent supposed to react?
Kenny shoved all his anxiety inducing thoughts as far from his mind as possible, reaching his hand over to Craig's, but stopping before he could feel the familiar, cold, calloused palms that belonged to the boy.
He pulled back. This wasn't right. None of this was right. He began to speak but choked on his words until he couldn't take it anymore, his tears spilling over and dripping down his cheeks onto his coat. He sobbed into his parka for a few minutes that felt like hours, until managing to form a sentence.
"What the fuck Craig?!" He stood abruptly, the chair being pushed backwards with a squeak.
"I'm the one who dies, Craig. Not you."
He couldn't help but be angry. Did he do this on purpose? Did he do this on purpose?
"I'm done!" He sobbed. "I can't fucking do this!"
And in a quick moment, the room fell back into the beat of the heart monitor and nothing else.
In another moment, the heart monitor fell a few beats short.
In another moment, doctors and nurses poured into the room with equipment and concerned faces.
In another moment, the room fell quiet once and for all.
At that same moment. a blonde boy in a parka exited the hospital.
It was cold in that hospital room. The tile floors never knew anything else. The silence was deafening, the boy's constant chatter was absent.
