South Park © Matt & Trey


Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

God, the sound is driving me crazy. I hate hospitals… but at least Craig is stabilized. He's alive. They said he'll wake up soon and he'll be in rough shape. I didn't find that surprising.

I called his parents. They should be here soon… but right now, it's just me and Craig alone in this room. I stare down at him lying in the cot, clad in a blue gown. There's a cannula in his nose and some tubes in his arms. He looks paler than usual. I reach a hand forward and touch his face – his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips. I sniffle some more and let out a breath.

When I turn around, I see his parents standing in the doorway. They stare at me as if they don't know what to make of my presence.

"You found him," Laura says. Her voice is terse, but I can tell it's not anger she's feeling – at least, not towards me.

"Yeah," I whisper.

"Is this what you do when you're together?" Thomas snaps at me. "Are you the one who did this to him?"

"No!" I protest desperately. "I don't do this… I don't… I don't do drugs…"

"Thomas," Laura puts a hand on her husband's shoulder, trying to calm him down. They move into the room and I decide to vacate, making space for them.

I sit in the waiting area and wrap my arms around myself. I tap my feet impatiently, feeling restless. What exactly am I waiting for? For Craig to wake up? For his parents to scream at me to leave their kid alone? For his dad to kick the crap out of me? For his mom to try and have me arrested? I don't fucking know.

I let out a shaky breath, trying to distract myself until a voice says my name –

"Kenny, right?"

I look up and see Craig's mom standing a few feet away. "Yeah," I say.

"You never tried to hurt him, did you?" Her voice is soft and it's not quite a question. It's more of a realization.

"Never," I whisper, though it's a slight lie. She doesn't need to know about the punches I've thrown or the shitty things I've said. It all seems a little irrelevant at this point in time.

"He's always been trouble," she admits, sitting down next to me, "but we didn't mind. We loved him all the same. We loved him as if he were ours… He is ours… We've had him since he was two. Even then, he wasn't a happy child. I think it put a lot of stress on Thomas. He was always very quiet and too independent for his age. The fact that Craig is so unhappy makes Thomas feel like a failure as a parent. Craig has never wanted anything to do with us... Plus, he's sick. He's a very sick boy. Even after his diagnosis, he wouldn't let me or Thomas do a thing to ease him. Perhaps we only have ourselves to blame. Thomas works a lot and, these days, so do I."

"It's not your husband's fault," I murmur. "It's not yours… it's not Craig's. In a way, it's like when kids fall in with the wrong crowd."

"How?" she asks pleadingly. "He never talks to us…"

"Jason," I start simply. "They used to be friends. He's a dealer. He got Craig into stuff he shouldn't've been dabbling with. Then they had a falling out, but Jason's still using him and Craig's letting it happen. H-he… He helps Craig hurt himself."

"Hurt himself…?" she questions, brows drawing together warily.

I can feel my eyes leaking. I run a hand through my hair and sniffle some more. "He, uh…" I let out a breath. "He has very little self-respect. Since he doesn't have money, he finds other ways to pay for the drugs Jason hands him."

"Oh." She leans forward, head in hands. "Fuck…" she whispers wetly.

"He feels unwanted," I continue, feeling solemn and sounding even more so. "Maybe the drugs numb that feeling… and maybe the sex helps. I don't know."

"With women?" she asks.

"Men," I correct. "I'm not the one who hurt your son, Mrs. Tucker. Jason is."

She puts her palms over her mouth and briefly squeezes her eyes shut. "Why?" she asks in a muffled tone. "Why would he do that?"

"Jason hates Craig," I murmur. "That's all there is to it. Jason is vindictive and spiteful and low-key evil. He says… he likes to have control over Craig. He likes humiliating him." And maybe I should shut my damn mouth, but I can't. I feel for Craig's parents, really, I do. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a child and not know what's going on in their life… knowing they're in so much pain and not being able to do a damn thing about it. It's for the best that they know.

"I remember them playing together when they were little," she says offhandedly, sounding like the memories are painful. She places her palms on her knees and sighs. "Jason's mother passed away and his father worked, so I would look after him. Jason was… Well, he wasn't a nice boy. He made Craig cry a lot when they were young. I always thought it was just children being children… nothing more. I mean… Kids are like that, you know? They're not really capable of understanding what they're doing is mean or wrong. They're… innocently selfish."

"Yeah," I say softly. I never realized Craig and Jason went back that far, but I guess it makes sense. The amount of hatred they both hold for one another is something that has probably been piling up for years and years.

"When they were twelve I caught Jason holding Craig down, touching him," she continues distantly. "There was this… faraway look in Craig's eyes and I knew he didn't understand what Jason was doing to him. So, I separated them and I told Jason's father I wouldn't be able to babysit anymore. He didn't seem to care when I told him why. He said, 'Boys will be boys.' But I disagreed. Boys still need to be held accountable. I wasn't going to let Jason near my son after that, but there's only so much I could do. I guess Jason found his way back. I couldn't always be around to protect Craig... and he never wanted me to."

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and hoarsely say, "Oh…" I guess Jason has been fucking with Craig for a long, long time.

"Is he gay?" she pries further. "Craig, I mean?"

"Would that bother you?" I retort, glancing at her.

"No…!" she insists quickly. "No, no… No, it wouldn't. I just… I never knew. I'm his mother and I know nothing about him."

"I love him," I decide to confess. "I mean… I'm in love with him. I don't know if he feels the same way, but I know he feels something for me… So, that counts. I don't mind that he's been with a lot of guys. I don't mind that there are days he'll act like a completely different person. I don't mind any of that…"

She nods gently. "I'm glad," she says sincerely.

"I've been with him, but it's like… He won't even look at me when we sleep together," I murmur. Maybe it's a weird thing to be telling his mom, but I can't find it in me to give a shit. "It makes me feel like he doesn't even want to be in the moment with me. He says he can't separate the sex we have and the sex he's had with everyone else."

Laura looks somber. "He doesn't trust easily," she says, "but I'm sure you already know that much. He's never told me and Thomas that he loves us. I suppose he doesn't. I think… that no matter who says it and no matter how many times, there's a voice in his head that tells him everyone is lying."

"I think he trusts me," I admit. "Not a lot… but a little bit. It's on and off, but sometimes he'll be real with me. He'll cry or smile. It's relieving to know he can still feel things – good things. I used to think he was like a zombie – moving around, but never feeling a damn thing. I know that's not true now. Craig feels things. He feels a lot. Sometimes I think he just feels too much and doesn't know how to handle it all."

"Yes," she agrees quietly before suddenly asking, "Do you know anything about a man named Carl Denkins?"

"Carl Denkins?" I repeat, grimacing.

"He's one of Thomas' friends," she says, letting out a long breath. "He was arrested the other day. The newspaper said..." She shakes her head, frowning. "I just... I can't –" she cuts herself off, shaking her head again.

"You can't believe it," I finish, filling in the blanks. "You can't believe a man you've known, a friendly neighbor, would do something so vile... least of all to your son."

Laura raises her head and stares blankly at the wall. "I didn't know. This is yet another thing about Craig I didn't know. He keeps everything to himself. They didn't say Craig's name in the newspaper, so of course I tried to brush off the event an distance myself from it as best as I could. I didn't want to think about it... but a police came to our door and then it all clicked." A pause. "We allowed that man into our home..." she whispers gravely. "Countless times, we've allowed him near Craig."

"It's not your fault," I insist yet again. "You didn't know what was going through his head every time he saw Craig. People like that... It doesn't take much for them to grow obsessed. That's what they're like. It doesn't take much for them to latch onto a person. Maybe all Craig did was smile at him. Maybe it wasn't even a real smile."

Craig can be charming when he wants to be. With his pretty looks, it's a lethal combination.

"There will be a trial," Laura adds. "Craig is going to hate that."

"It'll be over soon," I offer, but maybe I'm lying. Craig still has a lot of shit to work through. That part of it might never be over.

Laura simply nods her head, offering me a faint and lackluster smile. "Thank you for being honest with me," she says before standing up. "I'm going to join Thomas and see if Craig has woken up yet."

I nod and tell her I'm going to stay here. If Craig is awake, they'll probably want a moment alone with him. I let out a breath and lean back in my chair, staring at the white walls. After a few minutes, I stand up and wander back to Craig's room. I stand outside the door and listen to the faint sounds of voices. No yelling, so that's a good sign.

Suddenly, the door creaks open and a doctor exits. "Are you family?" he asks me once he shuts the door.

"Yeah," I lie. "I'm the one who called 911… So, how he is?"

"He'll be fine," the doctor says wearily, as if saving a kid's life is tiring. I want to snap at him, but I don't. Instead I simply nod my head and watch the asshole walk off.

After a few more minutes of hovering, I decide to make my presence known. I knock on the door before opening it and softly saying, "Hi."

Craig's mom offers me a small smile while his dad remains still. Craig is awake. He looks angry and miserable. His mom is holding his hand in hers. She doesn't look like she wants to let it go. I might not have the right but I say, "Can I talk to Craig for a sec?"

Strangely, they let me. They leave the room and when they're gone, me and Craig simply stare at one another.

"I'm glad you didn't die," I say bluntly. I want to smack myself when the words leave my mouth, but I don't know how else to express my relief. Nonetheless, he doesn't look mad.

"Me, too," he confesses quietly. "Again… thanks for saving my dumb ass."

"I love you," I decide to tell him. I approach his bedside, taking the place his mother was standing just a minute earlier.

"Love," he echoes in a murmur. "How quaint." A pause. "So, aren't you going to ask me if I did it on purpose?"

"No," I admit. "I already know the answer."

He smiles hazily. "Of course you do. You know everything, don't you?"

"Not quite," I say, offering him a small smile in return.

Life is the slowest death. I know Craig would agree. So, maybe it doesn't matter that he didn't succeed in his attempt. Maybe, in the meantime, he'll find ways of killing himself on the inside to make up for it. Maybe that's what he's been doing his whole life. Perhaps someday he'll stop and allow himself to feel something good for a change, but until then…

I grab his hand and hold it in mine. He's clammy and sallow-skinned, but he's alive. In the end, that's what matters.