Just A Blinking Red Light- CH 4 III

Chapter 4

Chapter Track: Hello My Old Heart - The Oh Hellos

Craig returns to school the next day feeling more like himself, having gotten a fair amount of sleep during the day and being able to catch up on everything outside of himself for a while. He needed to get out of his own head, just be alone for a little bit. And, for now, he's been able to push the tutoring thing with Stan out of his mind; his English teacher said that they'd have to reschedule for Mondays after school, as that's the only day Stan doesn't have something going on. Since it's already Wednesday, he'll have to wait until next week- which is more than fucking okay for Craig. The last goddamn thing he wanted to do with what meager free time he has during the week was spend it with Stan, let alone doing anything that would help the guy. The last time he tried to do that, shit went south quick. He'll figure something out.

Eventually.

Craig pushes into the building and pulls his sweatshirt sleeves up to his elbows, adjusting his messenger bag at his hip as he shoves his phone and earbuds into the front pocket. He also managed to stay out of his dad's way completely last night; having gone home from school early, it was easy to just hole himself up in his bedroom for the rest of the night and not do anything that required human contact. It's always best to just stay away from him after nights like that. In all honesty, Craig is probably going to stay away from him for the rest of the week. He's not sure what his father remembers, if he remembers anything at all. It's usually the case that he forgets everything completely, or at least he pretends like he does.

And he has to be more careful about the bruising. While the ones on his neck weren't caused by his father for once, they are pretty suspicious; even Ruby pulled him aside to ask him about it. She stopped him before he was able to slip out to school that morning, her brown eyes boring holes into his skull as she questioned him. He just shoved her away and fixed his hood so it covered them, mumbling something about getting tangled up in his jersey at practice during a drill before slamming the door behind him. While it wasn't the best excuse it worked, as Ruby just trudged out after him without another word about it. She isn't stupid, and she's going to catch on eventually.

Craig's thoughts stop in their tracks when he gets to his locker on the second floor, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. There are three sticky notes on the door, all with the same loopy but cramped handwriting. Craig peels each one off methodically, running his thumb over the pen marks as he reads over them.

Hey dude here's another song

Rainbow Veins by Owl City

You looked like you could use a little pick-me-up :)

-Kenny

are you good? Haven't seen you since English

-Kenny

Tweek told me you went home, but you'll get these eventually lol feel better dude -Kenny

Escape by Kongos

Craig feels a sort of twist in the center of his chest as he reads the notes, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. That's.. That's actually really nice of Kenny to leave these for him. He kind of thought that he was just trying to be nice to him since they had to work together and after the incident with Stan, kind of like he was trying to bandaid the situation by being overly good to him in public. But this seems weirdly sincere of him, like he left all of these because he actually cared about what was going on with Craig- something completely separate from Stan and appearances and everything else that goes into being publicly nice. This is just between the two of them.

Crap, that means that Kenny cares about Craig.

The thought makes Craig's chest tie up in knots and his stomach do flips as he stacks the notes together and creases them once through the middle, sticking them in the front pocket of his messenger bag. The thought of someone caring about him leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He doesn't want anyone else to care about him. When people care, things get messy. Things get complicated. Things become harder and harder to explain away, and it hurts more when the people that care eventually leave. This can't continue. Craig will have to talk to Kenny to get him to stop, tell him that it was cute and fun for a little while but now it's annoying. It's distracting, it's irritating, it's unnecessary. He doesn't have to be nice to him anymore. They're done with the project, and Craig doesn't need Kenny watching over him like some white-trash angel or something. Whatever it takes to get Kenny to stop leaving him songs that he somehow always likes, even though they're far from what he usually listens to. And how Kenny has always smiled at him in the hallways, even before everything with Stan happened and he started leaving notes, even when Craig would scowl back. And how much he liked working with him on the English project. He has to stop leaving notes now. It's weird.

..then again, even though he refuses to admit it and knows that it's all a terrible idea, Craig kind of likes the idea of Kenny caring about him. And it's not like the songs are exactly a bad thing, right? They're just songs. And Kenny smiles at everyone in the hallways. Plus, he's always been good in English; he's been in honors since freshman year, and always got high marks before that.

Pulling in a deep breath, Craig pulls open his locker and grabs the small stack of sticky notes he keeps there, digging for a pen in one of the pockets of his bag. As he's walking to homeroom, he slaps the finished note on Kenny's locker- even though the back of his neck is burning with blush and his brain is screaming at him that this is a bad idea. He's got a lot going on, so it's only fair that one of things could turn out how he wants it. It's only fair that one of those things turns out to be a good decision... Right?

Sinking into his seat in homeroom, Craig lets his bag slide off his shoulder beside his desk with a sigh, turning to Tweek and Bebe beside him. Their already hushed conversation slows to a stop as they both turn to look at him as well, his neutral expression souring. They quirk their eyebrows at him, and he knows what they're asking before they even speak. Eventually, it's Bebe who does.

"What was with you yesterday?" She asks, toying with the silver necklace she's wearing; Tweek gave it to her on their one year anniversary. She keeps a picture of them in it, along with a little yellow flower they found that night while walking along the bank of Stark's Pong. Craig stares at it as he tries to come up with a good enough answer, his eyes following the pendant as she slides it along the delicate silver chain.

He's not exactly sure how much they both know about Craig's home life. While he'd never in a billion years tell them what goes on behind closed doors, Tweek is good at reading him. Bebe is observant, and she tends to know shit about people before they know it themselves. Together, they could set up the most decorated spy ring on the face of the planet.

"Craig?" Tweek says, snapping his fingers in front of the raven's face. Craig blinks, smacking Tweek's hand away and scowling at him.

"Why the hell do you assholes care so much?" He mumbles, folding his arms over his chest and turning around in his seat.

"You can't just ignore us after that b-bullshit you pulled yesterday," Tweek starts, leaning across the aisle and tugging at his friends sleeve. Craig has been acting weird for a while, and it's not like Tweek is blind or something. He's noticed the frequent bruises and absences from school. A handprint around Craig's arm didn't fucking happen on the goddamn baseball field, or whatever field he happens to be on at the moment. He just wants to know if everything is getting worse with Stan or if there's something else wrong with Craig. He can't fucking lose him, too. The thought makes Tweek tug at his hair and bite at his lip, his mind running wild with visions of walking into Craig's room and finding him dead on the floor. Bebe rubs a hand over his shoulder, easing his fingers out of his hair and curling her manicured nails around his palm. Craig rolls his eyes, pushing his glasses up further on his nose before folding his arms over his chest.

"Hon," Bebe starts with a soft sigh. Craig's jaw tightens. "You don't just act like that out of the blue. And after what happened on Saturday.." She looks up at Craig, her green eyes scanning him up and down. It makes him shift automatically in his seat, tugging down his sleeves. "You know we mean well. We're worried about you, okay?"

"Guys, it's fine. I'm fine, Stan didn't break into my house and assault me, no one cornered me on the street, no one pushed me around in the hallways. Nothing happened. I woke up in the middle of the night and puked my guts out, came to school thinking it would be good. While I admit it wasn't the brightest idea, I didn't wanna miss class. I went home after English." Craig explains, folding his arms over his chest and turning to face them with a neutral expression. While it doesn't seem to satisfy them, it's what he's going with. He doesn't need more people hovering over him like he's some scared little puppy or something. He can take care of his goddamn self. They act too much like his parents, anyway. Tweek and Bebe share a long look before turning back to him, their expressions a bit more normal- though it seems a little forced.

"Was it a-another headache? I know how awful that s-shit is for you." Tweek asks softly, his eyebrows crinkling slightly. Craig feels another knot loosen in his stomach, the air around them turning back to normal as he shifts once more in his seat to face his friends. He pulls in a deep breath and shelves his anger, holding it in the back of his throat; the only thing that he'll accomplish if he lashes out at them is to make them more suspicious. He needs to act like what he had said was truth, like there's nothing out of the ordinary.

"Yeah, but it's okay now. My mom gave me some meds and it went away pretty quickly." He explains. Bebe still eyes him warily but moves on with their conversation, telling him about a party that Clyde is planning on having this weekend or something. He's not too sure he wants to go, but he promises that he'll think about it and get back to them at some point. Then the bell rings and they all go to their respective classes, the conversation forgotten.

In all honesty, Craig kind of forgets about the note he wrote to Kenny a little bit during the day, throwing himself into his schoolwork and looking forward to the photography club meeting and soccer practice he has after school. In recent years, he realized that doing a lot of after school activities keeps him out of the house, which in turn keeps him out of the line of fire some of the time. He also realized that if he puts himself in sports, he can explain away a lot of his injuries; he plays soccer in the fall, basketball in the winter and baseball in the spring. It keeps his mind off a lot of things, plus it's good for him to get out of the house and do shit with other people instead of talking to his camera all day. The rest of the day passes in pretty much the same way, with Craig goofing around with his friends at lunch and scribbling in the margins of his notebooks when classes get boring.

The end of the day comes quickly, and Craig finds that he didn't miss much in all of his classes. He did all the homework last night after he woke up from his nap, so he just needed the classwork. It's when he's back at his locker that he notices something is off; there's no return note from Kenny. The raven frowns, tilting his head at the forest green locker door in front of him before checking the floor below his locker, finding nothing. Hm. He spins the lock and pulls it open, rummaging in his bag for a moment before placing all the books he doesn't need onto the shelf in front of him.

It's a little weird that Kenny hasn't left any notes yet. Just because he's been doing it every day this week, a few times a day. He's almost... disappointed about it. Maybe it was a bad idea that he left one in return this morning. Maybe this whole thing was a big mistake. God, he knew he should've just told Kenny to stop leaving him notes, or maybe he should've just ignored it.

See, Craig has had this philosophy that he's lived by since he was a young kid: being boring is good. He's learned that being boring keeps you safe. Knowing what's going on in your life, knowing what to expect each day keeps you safe. You don't go to Somalia or the future or fucking Peru if you choose to be boring. And, besides, it's not boring to Craig. He likes making dumb movies with his friends and playing soccer and reading and chilling with his Guinea pigs. Its fun to watch his little sister's dance recitals and go to Jimmy's comedy shows and Token's debate matches and Clyde's football games. It's not boring to him, none of it is. It's just normal, and it's fun.

What isn't fun is getting your hopes up, then being let down.

Craig scowls at the shelves of books in his locker and slams it closed behind him, turning on his heel to head outside. Maybe this is for the best. Craig is better off by himself, just the way his life is right now. There's nothing wrong with everything, so why should he change it all up? At least he hasn't seen Kenny all day, so he doesn't have to look at his stupid face.

Wait, he hasn't seen Kenny all day.

The thought makes him slow to a stop on the side of the hallway, his brows furrowed. He scans through his memory of the classes of the day, not being able to recall Kenny being present in any of them. Craig automatically heads towards Kenny's locker down the hallway, knowing that he'd be there right around now to pack up his books. He spots him from across the corridor, and he ducks behind a group of sophomores for cover.

Kenny gently pulls Craig's sticky-note off the locker door, running his fingers over the handwriting. Craig can't see his face, but seeing this makes him feel weirdly warm. They both jump when Cartman suddenly appears beside Kenny, slamming his fist into the wall of lockers behind the blonde. Kenny scowls up at him, quickly tucking his note into the pocket of his worn-out parka.

"What." Kenny mutters flatly, frowning up at the brunette. Cartman rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his wide chest.

"Dig the sand out of your vagina, McCormick," He starts, quirking an eyebrow as he lets his eyes sweep over his friend. He reaches forward and yanks down Kenny's bandana before he can stop him, making Kenny yell and smack at his hand.

"Leave it alone, Cartman. I'm fine. I can handle myself." Kenny mutters, yanking his bandana back into place over his mouth and nose. Cartman rolls his eyes, waving his hand over Kenny.

"Yeah, looks like you did a great job, Ken. You seem really healthy and happy right now, way to go." He says, sarcasm dripping off of every word. Kenny's hands ball into fists at his sides. Cartman sighs, raising a hand to his temple and massaging tiny circles into his skull. He lowers his voice, his expression softening ever so slightly. "I told you to come over if shit gets bad, Kenny. You don't have to just sit and take it, or even sit and watch it."

"I don't need your pity, Cartman. I said I can handle it, and I can. So fuck off." Kenny hisses, slamming his locker closed and turning on his heel to storm out of the school. Everything is becoming too much. Everyone is too close, the air is being sucked out of the room. It all feels like it's closing in on him, and he bites down hard on his lip as he walks swiftly towards the front doors. Then he runs straight into someone, nearly falling on his ass and pulling down his bandana in the process. "Sorry-" he mutters as he looks up, locking eyes with none other than Craig himself.

They stare at each other for a moment, and Craig lets his gaze sweep over Kenny's face. A deep purple bruise streaks over his right cheek and a cut dribbles drying blood down over his eyebrow, his eye swelled slightly shut from the irritated skin below it. Another cut beside his lip is still leaking blood, a welt growing on his jaw. Craig feels his chest twist up in knots, and his breath hitches in his throat.

"Jesus Christ, Kenny," He mumbles, reaching forward to gently touch the bump on his chin. Kenny smacks his hand away, scowling at him.

"I'm fine." He blurts, though there's less conviction in his voice than when he'd said it to Cartman. Craig just stares at him then, his expression unreadable. Kenny pulls in a deep breath, swallowing thickly as he feels his resolve slowly crumble away the longer Craig stares at him.

"Let me help you." Craig says finally, his voice gentle and quiet. Kenny goes to object, but stops cold when Craig rests his hand on Kenny's arm. "It's not pity, it's payback. You helped me with Stan, I'll help you with this." He explains, rubbing his thumb over the crook of Kenny's elbow; the blonde feels himself melt a little bit as he nods. They walk in silence to the nearby bathroom, placing their backpacks near the door. Kenny sheds his parka and hops onto the counter as Craig digs in his bag for some supplies. He unloads some bandaids onto the sink beside Kenny, who watches him curiously out of the corner of his eye. This clearly isn't the first time he's done this.

"Why do you carry those?" Kenny asks softly as Craig wets a paper towel with warm water, squeezing it out over the sink. His gray eyes flicker up to Kenny's for a moment, shrugging.

"Tweek messes with his fingers a lot, and I like to keep them in case he starts bleeding or something." He says softly, only half lying. Tweek does pick at his hands when he's nervous, but Craig has used his fair share of these bandaids over the years. He turns his focus back on Kenny, raising the wet paper towel to gently clean the blood off his forehead. He tries his hardest not to press too hard as he smooths a clean bandaid over the cut over his eyebrow, not wanting to hurt Kenny any more than he already is. Something tells Craig that they share more in common than he once would have thought. Everyone knows that Kenny doesn't live the best home life- it's no secret. Since that stunt when they were kids, when the McCormick's ended up on that tv show, everyone knows about how shitty it is over there. At least, they thought they did; Craig didn't know they were physically fighting.

"...you run your tongue over your teeth when you concentrate." Kenny whispers slowly, without thinking about it. His voice draws Craig's gray gaze to his striking blue eyes. Jesus, they're really close together. Craig didn't realize how close he'd leaned in. He could count each and every one of Kenny's light freckles, could draw constellations and masterpieces between them. He pulls in a sharp breath.

"I- um... Yeah." He mumbles, sucking the corner of his lip between his teeth as his face flushes. "I started doing it when I had braces; I was self conscious of them, so I'd mess around with them." Kenny smiles slightly at this, though the feeling of numb sadness in his eyes never goes away. "Kenny..." He whispers, his voice breathy and far away. It makes the blonde's chest ache as he rests a hand on Craig's shoulder. Kenny feels him stiffen under his grip, and it makes his heart sink. He knew there was something more to those bruises. He knew it wasn't all Stan that day.

"Craig," Kenny whispers back, drawing the raven closer to him. He knows how Craig feels, and it feels like shit. Having to wonder about your safety whenever you go home. Wondering if you're going to get a full night of sleep, or have to deal with something worse. Worrying about your mom and your siblings and everything else that goes into living like this.

Kenny wants to make all of those feelings go away, if only for a little while. No ones ever treated him like Craig just did. They always seem to feel bad for him or something. Hell, Stan and Kyle treat him like he's their kid more than their friend. And Cartman isn't much better. He always thinks he has the answers, always thinks he can control Kenny's fate by making him do something new this time. Nothing new ever works. His dad is still overworked and pissed off and drunk, his mom is still gone, and his brother is still the drug addict that he's been since he was twelve. Nothing works, nothing makes it better. So Kenny has learned to just deal with it. There's never been anything he could do about it, so he's learned to live with it. He can tell that Craig is in the same situation, deals with the same problem. No one can wave a magic wand and make their problems go away, but they can learn how to make do. That's why Kenny didn't object to Craig, but practically blew up in Cartman's face; there was something there that Kenny has never seen in any other of his friends.

Craig runs his tongue over his teeth once more, and that's what makes Kenny lean forward.

Craig doesn't move when he feels Kenny's lips press against his own, his whole body stiffening and his eyes widening. The first thing he registers is the softness of Kenny's lips, and how gently they're resting on his; like Craig is glass, and Kenny is afraid to break him. Then he realizes how long Kenny's eyelashes are, and how there are barely-there freckles peppered all over his eyes. The last thing he realizes is that he wants this. He wants this so badly that he feels like his entire existence has boiled down to this one moment, this one little instance that makes everything else disappear.

Craig's eyes slowly drop closed as he responds to the kiss, stepping closer to the counter and resting his hands hesitantly on Kenny's hips. Kenny cups Craig's jaw, tilting his head and pulling the raven a bit closer. Craig has never been kissed like this before. It clears his mind, his body taking over as the temperature seems to rise around them. He can't think, all his thoughts replaced with a dull buzzing. But the buzzing has a name, and his mind repeats it over and over and over again- /Kenny, Kenny, Kenny, Kenny/... He runs his hands up and down Kenny's ribs, counting them over and over again as his fingers press into the spaces between them. Kenny flinches and he stops moving, pulling away to look up at him curiously.

Kenny keeps his eyes squeezed closed as he shakes his head, running his fingers through the hairs at the base of Craig's neck as he mumbles his curt response. "Bruises. Don't stop." His voice is low, and it makes Craig kiss him again with twice the ferocity. And, fuck, he loves it when people play with his hair. He loves it when Kenny plays with his hair. Craig slips his tigers under the hem of Kenny's jacket and shirt, running the tips of his fingers over the blonde's lower back. A shiver runs up Kenny's spine and he smiles against Craig's lips, letting go of a shaky breath.

They both jump a mile into the air when they hear the door open, revealing a freshman in a sweater and black-rimmed glasses. Craig propels himself away from the counter, his cheeks immediately flushing a deep red as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Kenny slides off the counter and swallows hard, his blue eyes wide. The freshman's face drains of color and he sputters apologies before hurrying out, the door clicking shut and bringing silence and reality back to the room.

Craig panics. He absolutely panics. Stepping towards the door, he picks up his messenger bag and shoves into the hallway, his heart pounding in his ears. He doesn't even hear Kenny's voice as he calls for him to wait. All he can think about is how much trouble he'll be in if someone finds out. If that little asshole freshman tells someone, and that shit gets around school.. Craig is totally fucked. The moment he hits the sidewalk outside Craig breaks into a run, his mind replaying the situation on a loop.

The feeling of Kenny's lips, how warm he was. How there's little flecks of green in the blue of Kenny's eyes, and how his freckles are all different shades of brown, gold and pink. How he's never kissed anyone like he's kissed Kenny, and how intoxicating it was. It was like everything else fell away, like the entire world boiled down to the two of them, to that moment.

Christ.. He's totally fucked.

When he gets to his house he's panting and out of breath, his chest heaving. He has to talk about this. He has to get to his camera. It feels like he's going to explode. It doesn't matter that he's missing soccer for the second time this week, or that he missing his photography club meeting. Nothing matters more than this right now. He flies up the stairs to his bedroom, barely able to set up his equipment before he's speaking.

"Something happened with Kenny," He says, his voice breathy and tight. It feels like his lungs are about to explode, but he lights a cigarette anyway, his fingers shaking as he moves. A terrible thought occurs to him and he stops short, his words caught in his groats as he flies to the window. Good. His dad's black Prius is absent from the driveway.

"Something happened with Kenny," He repeats, dragging his hat off his head and tossing it onto his bed. "Something.. Awesome. Awful. I don't really know yet. But I know I liked it, and I like him. A lot." He sighs, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. "I know this won't turn out well, I just know it…

"I guess I kind of always knew I.. wasn't straight. I also kind of thought that I would never act on it, at least not now. Maybe when I was out of the house or something… I don't know. I just know that dad will freak the fuck out if he suspects anything… that's why he left mom. She cheated on him with a woman, and he flipped the chuck out. Thought it was worse than cheating on him with a guy. I've met the woman moms dating, and she's nice, but.. They made it so much worse for me. Now, whenever he sees a gay couple or hears about stuff like that on the news, he-he gets this look on his face, this disguised look.. it makes me feel so scared, and dreadful. I'm dreading my future because I know that whatever I do, I'll disappoint him."

Craig pulls in a shuddering breath, biting the corner of his lips. "This sucks. This sucks so fucking hard. I really like Kenny.. He's so awesome. Like, he's always so nice and happy; I don't think I've seen him mad at someone in years. And, God, he can kiss. But.. I know I can't do anything with him, I can't start anything. It's a fucking suicide mission. The minute I do anything else with him is the minute I sign my fucking death certificate." Craig pauses again, pursing his lips and swallowing thickly, picking at his cuticle.

"…whatever. I'll figure this out, I guess. I'll just have to tell Kenny that I don't like him like that, that I'm not interested. It'll have to do. Over and out." With that, he reaches forward and shuts off his camera, watching the blinking light slowly burn out.

His bedroom door slams open and he jumps, nearly dropping his camera as he whips around to see who's in his room with a frown. His sister, Ruby, stands in his doorway, her brown eyes wide.

"You like guys?" She shouts, her expression unreadable. Craig feels the color drain from his face, his blood running cold.

"Um.."