A/N: I'm planning to wrap this story up within the next few chapters. Don't fret, though. There will be a short epilogue after the final chapter. I will also be writing another fic after this. However, it won't be South Park.
This chapter is short simply because it is a filler to build up for the next few chapters. While it isn't absolutely necessary for the plot, it still helps keep pace so the story doesn't move too quickly.
On a side note, I had a fuckton of trouble uploading this because I made the mistake of writing while on the school's wifi. Long story short, it deleted like 1/3 of what I had and I had to rewrite the ending after I was ready to publish it before.
Disclaimer: I do not own, nor do I claim to own, South Park.
I came out to Karen a week after Craig and I started dating. She was fine with it, and completely supported us. The only problem left was hiding from our parents.
I stayed at Craig's more often, and made sure to check on Karen when I could.
About a week prior to prom, Craig and I were together, cuddling in his bed. It was peaceful. He held me, making me feel safe. My eyes were beginning to droop as it got later.
Just before I fell asleep, I felt Craig shift, and then a warm hand on my bare back. He was tracing shapes and constellations into the freckles that covered my skin. I couldn't help but giggle. "That tickles," I said, though I didn't really want him to stop. It was relaxing, in a way.
He chuckled, continuing to slowly move his finger along the pale skin. "I love your freckles. I mean, I love everything about you, but your freckles are so fascinating for some reason."
"Hm...I guess. I've had them all my life. They've showed up for various reasons. Be it a sunburn or I was born with them, they have a way of just appearing on my body."
Craig hummed softly. It was soft and deep, a contrast to his usual monotone. It eventually lulled me to sleep.
The next morning, Craig was the first awake. I was suspicious at first, afraid he didn't sleep, but there was no evidence that he was up all night. Usually, there was some sort of sign when he didn't sleep. "Good morning, sunshine," he greeted.
"Mornin'," I mumbled sleepily, a yawn following. "What time is it?"
"Eleven," he answered.
"So you just let me sleep all day?"
"No, I'm the one who sleeps all day. Sleeping until eleven is perfectly normal."
"Well, whatever." I sit up, stretching. "I'm hungry."
"Well I can't cook for shit, so how about we go get coffee or something," Craig suggests.
"I'm broke after the tux shopping. My paychecks from the rest of last month were blown on groceries."
"Then I'll pay. Simple as that."
I ended up borrowing Craig's old clothes which involved an Iron Maiden t-shirt and black skinny jeans. Then, we walked to Tweak Bros., giggling and holding hands like most couples would. Since South Park is relatively neutral about everything, not many people even spared us a glance.
The bell on the shop door jingled, signaling our entry. Since I'm indecisive, I let Craig order for me while I chose where to sit. He was soon back with our order, and I was immediately glad I trusted him to do the ordering. He got iced mocha coffee for each of us and a giant cinnamon roll that definitely needed to be split between to two of us.
"Jesus Christ. It's like diabetes in a meal," I said.
"You've gained a little weight, but you're still underweight. I could count all your ribs if I wanted. So, I'm going to fatten you up. Even if you gain weight before prom, you're tux will still fit," he explained.
"Fair enough." I shrug and begin eating. I hadn't realized how hungry I was until I had taken my first bit and tasted the cinnamon and icing melt together on my tongue.
We spent a while chatting in the small cafè, enjoying each other's company. We talked about simple things, happy things, and things we loved, not caring about the burning daylight.
Around two that afternoon, we left to go to his house again, hand in hand.
This was often how we spent our days; doing simple things that, to anyone else, would probably mean nothing. We didn't have to kiss to show our affection towards each other. Our little talks and I love you's were enough.
Our nights were usually spent at his house. I had to go home every few days to avoid getting a beating from my father, but I spent as much time with him as I could. The nights that I was with him were just as simple as daytime. We would play video games and watch cheesy movies on Netflix. When time started creeping towards the late hours, we would talk about anything and everything.
One night, Craig asked, "What's death like?" He sounded a bit timid, knowing it was a sensitive subject.
"I still can't believe that you're even able to remember."
"Neither can I..."
"Death is like...Well, it's just complicated." I paused a moment, thinking of how I should word it. "It's scary to wonder if you'll go to Heaven or Hell. Most people do end up in Heaven, with the exception of terrorists, murders, those who have committed suicide, and people who were overall just terrible. Heaven is like living as royalty. Hell is like being a prisoner. Depending on behavior, Satan favors you. Due to my frequent visitation, he and I get along swimmingly. Even Damien, his son that stayed here for like a week in fourth grade, isn't as bad as he seems."
I looked up at Craig. He seemed to be deeply in thought over what I was saying. "Do you want me to continue?" He nodded.
"The scariest part is purgatory. You're in a whole other plane of existence, neither Heaven nor Hell, dead, but still among the living. Only a select few people like psychics and mediums know of your existence. Every one else will just suddenly feel cold or maybe hear a soft whisper in their ear. You're just a wandering spirit, cold and in pain. When you're in that state, you appear just as you did when you died. It's quite terrifying to see people in such a mangled state."
I stopped and asked, "Does that answer anything?"
"Yeah. Could you describe one more thing, though?"
"Might as well. What is it?"
"How badly does it hurt?"
"Well, have you ever broken a bone?" I asked, getting a nod in response. "Getting hit by a truck is much like that pain, but excruciating and all over your body. Another sort of common thing is asphyxiation. First you start getting a bit dizzy, then a burning feeling begins to spread through your chest, and black invades your vision until finally, you're dead." I thought a moment about another death I could describe. "Bleeding out is sort of like a death that stops time. It seems like ages before you die, but most of the time, it doesn't take long. There's always the pain that comes with the wound, but then you start to feel cold and sleepy."
Craig shivered at the thought of the things I was describing. I took that as a good sign to stop. "I think that's enough for tonight," I said. "I don't want you having an existential crisis or something over this."
He nodded, pulling me closer. He kissed my forehead. "Goodnight, Angel," he said softly.
"Night," I said back.
I feared I had said too much, and tempted fate to get back at me for saying too much, but then figured that was ridiculous.
That was really the only weird night. It was a night that we had thought a little too much and took a morbid turn in conversation.
Everything was going great, better than I could have ever expected. But, of course, it was too perfect to be true.
