Clyde sighed heavily, flopping himself down into his spinny computer chair. He was exhausted. Physically and emotionally. Thankfully, his face was dry and it's normal color. He wasn't sure how much longer it would stay that way. He could feel it. His emotions rising up, he wanted to let it out, like he always did. And so he did, the tears fell freely, his chest heaved as he sobbed.
His father, as dying. It was going to be a slow death. But it had been a long time coming. A very long time. Since that fall nine years ago, when his mother died. It started with something simple, something they all knew would eventually catch up with him. A simple virus.
A hopsital visit that sparked many more, medications, more medications, and then the time off work.
He hadn't noticed though. He had been wrapped up in his senior year. In his part time job.

He didn't realize his father was dying.
The guilt. It pressed on him. Sometimes, it felt like he couldn't breathe.
His dad had always been awesome. And now..., now he had to watch him waste away.
The tears kept falling.

Through tear blurred eyes, he woke his computer and opened a Word doc. He wrote sometimes. Sure, he wasn't the smartest guy, but he definetely let it show when something affected him. And on occassions when his friends would beat him up for crying, he held it in and wrote something instead.

'Unseeing

Drink a little more,
Pop a few to numb,
Blind yourself from the reality.
Don't watch,
It's far too painful to see.
You always knew,
But now you've lost yourself.'

The tears fell quicker, a strangled sob escaped his barely parted lips. He hunched over his arms wrapped around his legs.

He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it. He hadn't seen his dad was fading away. He hadn't fucking seen it! He'd been so absorbed in his own life, he hadn't seen the life slipping away from his father.
His entire body shook with his sobs. He rocked himself, to and fro, unable to stop the tears any more. He had held himself together all day. But now, he was alone, and he couldn't stop himself. He knew he was a mess, his eyes would be red and puffy, his skin would be flushed and his nose was dripping. He tried to stop his tears and his shaking. It was all to no avail, he kept rocking back and forth, the tears still slipping down his face.

Numbly he stood, and staggered over to his bed, all but falling on to it. The tears still fell escaping closed lids, and he whimpered softly into his pillow, unable to quiet himself.

Suddenly though, he was warm. He opened his eyes, glimsping orange.
"K-kenny?" he mumbled thickly.

"Mhm," was the response, the arms around him tightened, fingers deftly stroking the soft brown locks.

Clyde only cried harder, his face pressed into Kenny's chest. Dimly, he felt bad about dirtying his friend's parka, but he couldn't stop crying enough to apologzie or protest.
He didn't know how long it was before the tears finally ceased, but Kenny was still holding him.

The brunette sat up, wiping his eyes and then his nose with his sleeve.
"Thanks," he mumbled, not daring to look at his friend.

"It was no problem," the blond smiled, his hands having moved to his pockets.

"L-lemme wash your parka, since I got it all gross an stuff," Clyde muttered, still averting his eyes.

"It's fine," Kenny protested.

"Please?"

Kenny grumbled but he couldn't resist the puppy dog look Clyde was giving him. He unzipped it and passed it to his friend. Clyde took it downstairs and tossed it in the wash with his jacket and the other clothes sitting in the laundry room. He returned to his room to see Kenny laying on his bed with his arms folded behind his head.

Clyde lingered in the doorway, unsure of how to approach his friend. He had cried in front of them before, but not like that.
Eventually he made himself go back into his room where he sat in the computer chair.

"Thanks again," Clyde mumbled, sitting hunched over, still unable to meet his friend's clear blue gaze.

"No problem. Really. Do you want to talk about it?"

Clyde considered the question, he wanted to, but at the same time, he didn't. It was rather personal, and though Kenny had comforted him while he cried, he wasn't sure he wanted to tell him. It was, afterall, a family matter. For now anyway. Being a small town, it was only a matter of time before everyone knew. He supposed it was better if Kenny heard it from him first.

He took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
"My dad is dying."

He felt Kenny's eyes on him.
"He didn't say it in so many words, but I'm not stupid. I know the signs. He's fading away. It's going to be slow. I didn't notice, I was caught up in my life. It wasn't until earlier today, just hours before, he told me all the things that are wrong with him. I mean, I knew he was going to the hospital a lot, but I didn't realize how serious it was. I don't know how I didn't notice. He's fucking dying Kenny."

Kenny said nothing for a long time. His blue eyes focused on the brunette.
"I know it doesn't mean much, but I'm sorry Clyde. But..., maybe, now you can help him more. Spend as much time with him as you can."

Clyde nodded, his eyes downcast.
Blonde hair suddenly eclipsed his vision as Kenny knelt before him.

"I want you to know something Clyde," Kenny began, taking the other teen's hands in his own, threading their fingers together, "You can talk to me about anything. Just send me a text and if you need me, I'll be there. I mean it, You don't have to go through this alone. I know, I know, you have other friends, but we both know they're not exactly good with emotional stuff. I'm not either, but I'll always listen."

Clyde slowly smiled, at his friend who was smiling brightly up at him.
"Since it's the weekend, you can stay here tonight," Clyde told the blond.

Kenny gave him a mock salute with his usual grin, standing and wandering back to the bed where he promptly flopped down.
"And with that good sir, I bid thee good night."

Clyde laughed, watching his friend, marveling at how he felt better from just a few words. His thoughts turned bittersweet though, because he knew it wouldn't last. His heart was heavy, but it couldn't be helped. Kenny had tried and mostly succeeded, but the knowledge of his dad's impending death crushed his spirits. With a sigh, he slid his pants off and climbed into the bed beside Kenny. He closed his eyes and drifted off quickly, utterly exhausted.
Kenny though, laid awake, gazing at his friend. He hoped Clyde would take what he said to heart. He meant it. His eyes fell closed and he slowly slipped into a deep sleep.