Warning: character death, comas, unhealthy relationships, drug use, violence.
Summary:Whatever anyone said about them would be forgotten because they have each other in their fucked up, dysfunctional relationship.
But then suddenly Craig wasn't there to not give a fuck. It was just Kenny, caring too fucking much.
a/n: requested by and for Skylar. Enjoy.
When news spread of what happened, no one was really surprised. It is sad to say, that the expectations of two teenage boys were so low. Kenny never really cared what other people said about him. He was used to it. He was notoriously known as the poor kid, the bad boy, the one that wasn't going to go far. He even fed into that image.
He got more defensive when it came to Craig though.
Before the incident, they would laugh it off. Craig really could care less as well. People talk shit on them all the time. Kenny would trace Craig's lips with his fingers before pressing his own mouth against the others. It'd become heated, desperate in their drug induced haze. Kenny's hands would roam the taller males body, touching him, feeling the soft flesh beneath his hands. His soft lips would cover Craig's mouth and he'd swallow the pants and moans as he would fuck him. On the ground there would be pills scattered across the carpet, empty bottles of booze, clothes and plates. Whatever anyone said about them would be forgotten because they have each other in their fucked up, dysfunctional relationship.
But then suddenly Craig wasn't there to not give a fuck. It was just Kenny, caring too fucking much.
It all starts the night after graduation.
It is a surprise either of them graduated, honestly. They were seldom in class. Always skipping, spending the day under the covers. They'd lay there with a bottle of whiskey that would later be thrown on the floor, discarded with the rest of them.
They wanted a party. But a private one.
The bed is a gold mine. Craig's grandma gave him a bunch of money and he blew it on drugs and alcohol. Kenny whistles as he picks up the baggy of weed. His gap toothed smile becomes wider as he watches Craig roll a blunt for them. His boyfriend is beautiful. A little bit if a pain in the ass, cruel with words and stoic at times. But beautiful. He can't contain his emotions and leans over to kiss his jaw.
Craig turns his head and their lips meet in a light peck. Nothing hardcore, nothing extreme yet. The night is young.
"I want it to last." Craig explains, voice nasal. His eyes are half lidded and tired looking, dark, unreadable. The blunt finds its way to his lips and he lights.
That is the start of the night. They progressively become more lost in their supply. They fuck a few times, changing positions. Craig riding Kenny's cock desperate and loud, louder than usual. Kenny letting Craig fuck him from behind, pulling at his hair and speaking vile, nasty words into his ear.
Somewhere along the line they decide to climb down the ladder outside of Craig's window. Kenny pulls out the damn thing every time he sneaks into the house. They both think the Tuckers know what is going on, but they choose to ignore it. As long as they don't have to see It, it isn't happening.
They're clumsy and by the last step of the ladder Kenny has to catch Craig before he falls on his ass. Kenny laughs up a storm at this, thinking it is so funny. Craig only raises up his middle finger and dust himself off.
A path of footprints are left behind them as they crunch through the snow. Evidence of their departure. They surely don't know where they are going. But they go. They walk and walk through South Park. The street lights illuminate them as they explore the area. Kenny talks trash. Loud, animatedly about everyone and anything. Talks and talks and Craig listens, keeping his gaze firmly ahead.
They are trudging through some field when they hear it. The slamming of a door, the chatter of humans. They opt to ignore it. Who cares, right? Probably just some kids celebrating. Kenny throws an arm around his boyfriends middle, hands eventually sliding down to Craig's ass.
They stop. Their feet has led them to where their bones were telling them to be. The night is crisp, cool, biting. They have long since left uncharted territory. The only light to guide them is the moon and their cellphones. It is scary, but kind of adventurous.
Craig and Kenny stand in a silence, feeling like the only people on earth. Stars litter the black of the sky, and it is baffling and beautiful. They may be high and gone but if anything, it enhances the beauty. Kenny's hand meets Craig's and he interlaces their fingers.
There is the sound of a car door slamming again, and that brings them back to the reality of the fact that there are other human beings on this earth.
Kenny turns his head in the direction of the vehicle and notices a few kids their age walking towards them. He nudges Craig who looks over his shoulder at them as well. The group of teenagers stop in front of them.
"Well, look what we have here. The bad boys of South Park." The biggest of them all says. He towers over Kenny but misses Craig by a few inches. However, what he lacks in height he makes up with width. He is thick. Thick arms, square face, large torso. Kenny can sense trouble. He stands his ground, though wary. There were quite a lot of people, and only himself and Craig.
"What do you want, asshole?" Craig speaks up, stepping forward. Kenny wants to stomp on his foot, but doesn't. Normally he'd take a challenge. But his eyes roam the group…and he feels something unpleasant twist inside his chest. Danger. This was dangerous. They didn't look a friendly lot and they outnumbered Craig and himself.
There is a chorus of oooh's from the punks. Craig raises his chin up. Kenny still hasn't let go of his hand.
"We want to see just how bad you guys are. You look kind of puny for the reputation you have." He says, he grins maliciously at them. Bared teeth, like a dog getting ready to pounce. Kenny lets go of Craig's hand. He steps in front of him, protective.
"Hey man, we don't want trouble. Just piss off." He starts and there is an onslaught of laughter. Kenny knows what is next, but Before he can think there is a fist colliding with his face. And that is how it starts. It isn't much of a fight, Kenny tries to hold his own, blocking kicks and punches in all directions. He tries to push Craig out of the way. Telling him to run. But he is so stubborn and is trying to fend his own, Kenny watches him go down. It is the last thing he sees before his face slaps against the ground and he is knocked out. It is nothing Kenny hasn't endured. He has died countless time.
He just hopes that is not the case with Craig. Kenny believes in god, though he seldom cares enough to be just and good. But he prays that they don't kill his boyfriend. He prays and prays and prays, feeling the wave of panic and adrenaline in his body as it runs through his head. Please don't kill him. It is his last thought before it goes black.
Waking up from death is not foreign to Kenny. It is like waking up from a bad, painful dream. Eye lashes that were resting on tanned, freckled cheeks flutter. They twitch before the lids shielding blue eyes from the world open. Kenny sits up straight, head whipping around. He takes in his room. Pills and empty whiskey bottles. Posters lopsidedly hung up. A bong somewhere buried under clothes.
His heart is pounding. He died. He died, what does that mean for Craig? He stands and doesn't bother changing his clothes. His hands quiver as he pulls open his bedroom door. He runs passed Karen and Kevin's room, passed his parents in the living room. He runs and runs and runs through the snow and passed the houses he has grown up around. Has familiarized, knows exactly who resides in them. He runs until he gets to The Tucker residence. The ladder is gone, he notices. It usually is the mornings after, but somehow it makes him feel sick.
He trots up the steps of the porch, fist colliding with the door. Harsh, desperate knocks. He doesn't realize it but he is crying. There are tears rolling down his cheeks, down his jaw and neck.
Laura Tucker opens the door. She looks so tired. Exhausted. Her gaze falls on Kenny and suddenly she looks so angry. It is a quick transition, a dull expression to one of absolute loathing. Laura waits for what Kenny has to say and he doesn't relent. He speaks the first thing that comes to mind.
"Craig. Craig. Is he-where?"
Before he knows it the door is being slammed in his face. The sound of a lock is being clicked into place and it fucking tears Kenny's heart to shreds. His stands there, lost as to what to do.
He stays like that for a good few minutes. Frozen. He does 't know what is going on or what happened. He needs to know. He needs to know what happened to Craig. Needs to know if he is alive. He sucks air into his lungs, feeling like he has stopped breathing for a few minutes.
His feet lead him to the only place he can think to go. Numbly he walks through the snow. Freezing cold, face red and wet from the water works.
Kenny's pace is slow and he arrives at Kyle's house within 5 minutes. His knock is lighter, his demeanor going from being panicked to eerily calm and he is just all around zoned out. Kenny patiently waits for Kyle to open the door, and when he does he looks a bit taken aback. But he then looks angry. That seems to be a common reaction when people look at Kenny lately. The frizz haired boy steps aside to let Kenny in.
They take a seat on the couch in the living room. Kyle was drinking hot chocolate before Kenny came and stirs the beverage with his spoon. The silence is thick. Kenny can tell his 'friend' is mad. It took something like this for him to even speak to him. Kyle initially wasn't happy with a lot of decisions Kenny has been making since they have entered high school. However, when Kenny and Craig started dating it became like they were the only two people on the planet. Kenny became so consumed with drugs and Craig that he stopped talking to people like he used to. It wasn't really intentional. However, he still did it.
"Listen, Kyle—"
"Oh, fuck off. I don't want to hear it." Kyle says. He drops his spoon in the cup and it makes a clanking noise. Kenny flinches a bit. Kyle stands and folds his arms. He looks just as tired as Mrs. Tucker, like he wants to cry or yell or scream.
"He's in a coma." Kyle says. He looks Kenny in the face as he says it too. Hazel eyes burning right into Kenny's blue ones. Kenny looks away, unable to stand Kyle's disappointment. Shit.
He feels his heart drop in his stomach.
He doesn't cry this time. He takes quivering breathes. Trying to comprehend it all. Trying to make sense of it. This is real. This is real, this isn't some fucked up dream.
The couch dips with the weight of Kyle who rests a hand on Kenny's shoulder. He looks a lot more sympathetic now. Hazel eyes fall on Kenny's hands and he covers them with his own.
"Maybe it is for the best. You guys were…unhealthy. Maybe when he wakes up, you can get the help you need." He says. Normally Kenny would tell him to fuck off. Tell him they are great together. Beautiful together. No one knows them the way they knew each other. But in that moment he feels so overwhelmed with sadness that he remains quiet.
He smokes that night. Hotboxes the closet and tries to calm himself. His hands are sticky from eating cheesy poofs. Drug induced hunger.
When he wakes up it is dark and he is scared because he forgets where he is. After a few seconds of panicking, however, it dawns on him that he is in his closet. Kenny feels around for the door handle. Twists it and pushes the door open to his dim room. The light filters in through the blinds and Kenny steps over trash and clothes to sit on his bed.
This is real.
It is real. It is real, and it begins to settle that he doesn't have Craig by his side to take him away from it. His eyes close. He needs to see him. Kenny needs to see Craig because he can't believe this. It is surreal. Kenny pinches his arms every once and awhile, hoping he'll wake up. When he doesn't he clenches his teeth together.
Kenny grabs Kevin's bike and rides the distance from his house, over the train tracks, through town to Hell's Pass. Without skipping a beat he walks to the front desk. Inquiring where Craig is, thanks. His heart pounds in his ears as he walks, fast paced to the room they told him he is resting.
He gets lost and frustrated until finally he turns around and there is is. An open door with the room number next to it. There is a white board below it, where Craig's name is scribbled. He hesitates at first. Kenny rests a hand on the door frame, closes his eyes. Counts to ten. He isn't sure he is ready to see his boyfriend in such a state when just the other day he was kissing him.
But he opens those blue eyes again. He opens them and makes his way into the room. Kenny stops and his lips part as he takes in Craig's state. He sits down on the chair next to Craig's bed, baffled.
He is bruised and battered. His lip busted, eye black, arms scattered with bruises. Kenny can see what looks like purpled skin in the shape of a hand, wrapped around Craig's arm. Craig's black hair is strangely neat, like it always has been. He looks peaceful, despite his state. His chest rises and falls gently with every inhale and exhale he takes.
Kenny immediately takes Craig's hand in his own. It's limp, and Craig doesn't squeeze back. Kenny doesn't care though, he just misses the physical touch.
He gently runs his thumb across the surface of Craig's skin. Gentle little circles.
Kenny doesn't know why. But he feels like he should talk to him. He always sees that in the movies. Always sees the survivors lover or family talk to them, tell them everything. Tell them stories. So he does.
They didn't like each other at first.
Kenny laughs as he remembers it. He hated Craig. They were in preschool, and even then he was a negative nancy. Kenny remembers it. He remembers watching Craig play by himself while everyone played together. And when Clyde finally started talking to Craig, he was so mean to the other male. He'd make him cry, would steal his blanket.
He remember thinking he was strange and an asshole. Sometimes he wanted to defend Clyde. But he was a bit scared of Craig at the time.
He was scared of him until they were forced to work together in 1st grade. Kenny remembers it vividly. He remembers following Craig home after school, the other male quiet and cold towards him. He remembers sitting down on the porch and working together on their project. It was simple. Fill out and discuss their family tree. Except it wasn't.
"I don't know who my dad is." Craig says, dully. His brows furrow and he crumbles the lined paper. His half lidded eyes fall on the dirty snow beneath his boots.
"Mom and I were always alone." He says, dull, nasal. Kenny never said anything in response to that. He just took the information in. He didn't pity Craig, but it did make him a bit more human. It made Kenny understand a bit more. If Craig was always alone, then maybe that is what he is used to, right? Maybe he doesn't know how to be a friend. Maybe he is angry that he doesn't have a dad. Kenny still thinks Craig is wrong and an asshole. But it gives him some insight.
This was before Mrs. Tucker married Mr. Tucker and had Ruby. Craig's last name was actually Nommel until the end of 1st grade.
Kenny helps Craig bullshit some elaborate response.
He remembers working on other projects after that. On doing animals close up with a wide angle lens. They aren't especially fond of each other…but they tolerate each other. They even held hands and were partners on a field trip. They had a love hate thing going on. One moment Craig would let Kenny in on something, one of his little projects for school and would let him hold his hand. The next he was explaining how much he hates his group of friend. How he wants things plain and boring. He is confusing.
They enter high school not talking at all. Craig has disassociated himself from their group. Kenny is on to his own devices. He always loved women but suddenly he is taller, he lost the chub from Kyle's spoiling of him with food. He has a job on a farm, is building muscle and girls actually like him. They always thought he was pretty. But now older women are hitting on him too.
The drugs don't come into play until the sex does. Suddenly he is selling. He doesn't know how that happens. His brother just drops it into the palm of his hands and tells him "do your magic". Kevin has always been a dealer. It's all he's know, and now he passes it down to Kenny.
Kenny doesn't notice Craig at all until 10th grade when he is climbing through his window, shakes him awake and drops money on his bed.
"How much can I get for this?" Kenny looks up at him from where he lays and snorts. He takes in that apathetic demeanor. The straight line of a mouth, the cold dark eyes. The contrast of dark hair with pale, creamy skin. The long, slender nose and dorky ears of his that only someone who has seen Craig without a hat would know about.
His tongue darts out and he moistens his lips. When did Tucker grow up? Jeez.
"Enough to get high. Give me a second, Tucker." Kenny says. He pushes his thin blanket off of his body. Leaning over to look under the bed. He pulls out a box and rests it in front of himself. Craig's eyes watches his movements as he opens the lid. Lazily, Kenny pulls out a dime bag of weed and tosses it to the other male.
Craig tilts his head, looking Kenny over with those dark eyes. It makes Kenny flush a bit, the attention. But as soon as Craig's gaze is on him it is gone. He nods his thanks and climbs out of the window. Kenny gets a nice display of his ass. And that is the first time he thinks of Craig that way.
"I thought you had a nice ass. I wanted to pull you back in and bend you over, fuck you from behind. But then I also thought about deciphering whether you were really as cold as your eyes were. I wanted them to stay on me. For your interest to be less fleeting. In a weird way I knew that was the beginning of something. I just didn't know what."
Kenny says this as he rubs circles into Craig's hand. He closes his eyes. Exhales through his nose.
"Visiting hours are over, son." Says a pretty little nurse with blond hair pulled back in a bun. Kenny nods in response. He looks at Craig for a few more seconds, yearning for him to get up and talk back. He knows his wishes are futile. He leans in and kisses Craig's forehead.