Author's Note: I'm working heavily on edits and changing some things. I found something in future chapters that I'm not happy with so I have to work everything around these ideas I'm coming up with. I don't know how frequent updates will be for the next couple weeks because of this, so I'll try to update as much as I can. I want to thank you for reading, and this one has a slight trigger warning. Until my math class today this chapter didn't exist. But I feel it is one of the pieces to connect the changes I'm making. So hang tight and thanks for reading, again.
Honestly I had to take a break from this because this chapter, combined with the playlist I'm writing (I listen to it when I write Kenny-centric stuff), made me cry. And it's really difficult to do that, especially with writing (my writing specifically.) I kind of unloaded on this one.
This is kind of one of those break chapters I write sometimes. That's why it's a little shorter. :)
Title from "Sleepwalking" by Bring Me The Horizon
Chapter Twenty-Six: Should I Sink or Swim, or Simply Disappear?
The muzzle of the gun felt warm as it pressed against his temple. Warm like putting your near frost-bitten hand into a glove; still cold but warm enough to feel at least a slight sense of comfort.
His blonde hair fell over the barrel and he closed his eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.
He could end it all. He could pull that trigger, blow his brains out, stop the fear and the itching and that nagging in his blood for another hit. He could shut off his mind from going back to that night and feeling their hands, their teeth, the punches and the glass as it bit into his skin. Into him... ripping and tearing and slaughtering what he kept for himself for so long. Ruining his body.
But deep down he knew he was never innocent. No matter how hard he tried to maintain a sense of purity his mind and blood were corrupted. He was always fucked up in the head, always knew and never had to ask. He would never be normal, never even close, and in the silence he heard the gun cock as he heaved a long, sad sigh. His breath shook, just like his shoulders.
He would come back brand new. There would be scars that ached in the middle of the night but he wouldn't feel the heat or pull or constant stabbing pain if he so much as turned a little too fast. His mind was in a constant fog and that scratch in his brain kept clawing; the marks on his arms were there for a reason. He would come back in a day's time; maybe no one would even know he had been raped in the first place. He could play it off as if nothing ever happened.
But someone would know. Someone would blame himself for his death and for what happened to him; when it was really his fault and his alone. He acted on impulse; why had he shot up? What tripped the trigger in his head to actually make him plunge that needle in his vein?
He felt his hand shake and his throat tighten. There was someone who knew what this was like, who didn't have an easy way out, who suffered in silence. He dealt with the pain and the fear, the horrible and awkward feelings, the anxiety, and he had finally found some peace. And he was innocent in every sense of the word.
He was strong and beautiful and knew his pain more than anyone else. And he had been a little boy, who didn't know right from wrong, who was told love was in the form of cruelty. He didn't have a chance to ask for help because he didn't know it was wrong. And he was pure innocence. He was pure and everything good; he was everything he wanted to be but would always end up being just out of reach.
And he hadn't ended his life. And he wouldn't have, even if he had the chance. Some things you can't run from, no matter how much you want to. Butters was so much stronger than him because he made it out alive; he still smiled even when it hurt his mouth. He still walked even when his body felt as if it were set on fire.
But he had to stop these thoughts. These feelings. Their hands groping and pulling and twisting... the burning and the blood and how he couldn't stop himself from feeling pleasure from their actions. He didn't want it. He didn't want it. But his body betrayed his feelings and it only encouraged them. It made it all okay for them; in their minds their actions were justified.
But not for him.
Kenny bit down hard on his arm and screamed into the skin. Blood filled his mouth and he felt himself gag. He pushed down the urge to vomit and his index finger hovered over the trigger. One slight move and it would be over. One gentle push and it would be done with... for now. It would be the best feeling he'd have in days.
"FUCK!" he screamed into his arm, his teeth dug deeper in his flesh and blood trickled down his arm. He shuddered and pulled his mouth away. He had tasted his blood that night, when they put that bottle in his mouth and they-
Kenny shivered and dropped the gun onto the ground. He wrapped his arms around himself and rested his head on his knees as he curled up on the bench at Stark's Pond. He couldn't take this anymore. There was so only so much bending before finally breaking.
And he had snapped long ago, he was only feeling it now. He was always in control. Always the one who knew what to do and how to do it. He wasn't afraid of anything. But now... now he wasn't invincible. Now he wasn't stone. Now he was just broken glass. Shattered and fragmented and left in a mess everyone was afraid to clean up. Especially himself.
Not even death would save him from this inner hell.
Hell would be better than this.
He felt powerless. Weak. Wrong; in every sense of the word. His breaths were sharp and hitched, his eyes stung from exhaustion and from trying not to cry. His throat was sore from screaming. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth so tightly. His body was in ruins and he just wanted relief. But death wouldn't bring him that. Death would make everything worse.
Because even if his death was only temporary his friends would still mourn. His friends would still realize he was too weak to handle this. His friends would blame themselves and that just wasn't fair.
And Butters... he shook his head. He couldn't do that to Butters. No matter what they were, he wasn't quite sure, he knew he couldn't give up like that. Because Butters hadn't given up as a child, and Butters blamed himself for so much of this, when he was so, so wrong.
But he just wanted to die... he wanted it to be over. He wanted to finally be free and just get rid of this awful feeling of helplessness and hopelessness and just being wrong.
He had always been wrong.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
"Kenny?" He heard the voice on the other line and he couldn't help it. A strangled moan came from his vocal chords as he broke down; he was too tired. Too weak. "Kenny..." There was pity now. There was sadness. He didn't need it. He didn't want it.
"There's a gun in my hand and I-I don't know if I should pull the t-t-trigger," he sobbed; his tears fell like tiny crystals of glass. They were hot and seemed to burn his skin. He sniffled and bit down on his lip, felt the scraping of his lip ring and tasted metal. Another little whimper, another hitched breath. He bit into the palm of his hand and stifled the wounded moan.
"I don't want you to die."
Kenny dropped the phone next to the gun and buried his head in his hands. He tried to push his hands into his eyes, to stop the crying, and to stop from seeing the jarred memories from that night that were distorted by his high. He pulled at his ears to stop from hearing himself sob and to stop listening to the memory of their voices, their grunts, their laughs... stop stop stop stop stop-
"I can't go back to ten months ago..." he heard the quiet voice from the ground. He breathed heavily and pulled at his hair; it was wet and frozen from the snow and wind. "I can't let you die. I can't let you give up knowing I couldn't help you."
"I don't w-want you in trouble..."
"I don't want you in trouble," Butters said it back to him and Kenny covered his mouth as he screamed once again. He heard Butters sniffle from over the phone and he shook his head. He didn't know what to do.
His eyes focused on the gun and he reached his hand down.
"I don't want you alone..." Butters trailed off, "where are you?"
"S-Stark's Pond..."
"Does Kyle know?" Kenny shook his head and realized Butters couldn't see him. But he knew.
"I'm just about done making dinner for mom and dad and I'll tell them I'm going to work on pre-calc with Kyle. Stay there. Don't touch that gun. Don't leave me again..."
"L-Lee..." he didn't know what else to say so he hugged the phone. He didn't want human contact. He didn't want to be touched.
They took away what he loved the most. They took it all away.
"I know, I know..." he heard him whisper. "Don't hang up the phone... just give me two minutes. Why don't we talk about Thanksgiving break, or Christmas break, huh?" Kenny nodded and hugged his arms around himself as he curled up on the bench. It hurt to sit. It hurt to move. "We're gonna have a movie marathon, okay? We're gonna watch all those stupid movies you like and make commentary. We're gonna get high with Stan and Kyle and Cartman, we're gonna build an igloo... okay? We can look at the stars on Christmas Eve and wait to see the reindeer... we can watch "The Little Drummer Boy" 'cause it's your favorite... we can build a snowman and make him tall..."
"Or not so tall..." Kenny trailed off, laughing through his tears. He heard Butters sniffle and laugh gently.
"We can name him George... and we can make hot cocoa and try to make candy cane straws. We'll have a "Call of Duty" competition and try to make Kyle eat something with meat. We can watch his fireplace until the last log burns out and we can talk all night... and I can try to make you laugh by doing my silly voices... okay?" Butters asked with a wet voice. Kenny nodded and dug his nails into his forearm as he wept with his mouth closed to stifle the sounds. "Give me a minute, Ken... mom? Dad?"
Kenny closed his eyes and took a strangled breath as he felt the snow fall on his face. It soothed the burning, swollen skin just a little bit, and it felt like a gentle caress to the cheek.
"Mom..." he pleaded in a small voice, "mama..."
He hummed quietly as he curled his legs closer to his chest. His hand cradled the phone to his heart as he heard Butters explain to his parents where he was going. He didn't want to hear his father, he didn't want to hear the twenty question game. He just wanted his mom. He just wanted to hear her sing to him... sing him to sleep, sing to him until the tears finally stopped. Until the pain was over. Until he breathed his last breath.
"You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy
When skies are grey..." he trailed off in a whimper; he heard her in his head, felt her arms wrap around him in a tight hug. His voice caught in his throat and he sobbed as he tightened his grip around himself. He felt her warmth. Felt himself rest against her as she held him close and kissed at the tears falling down his cheeks. Just like she always did.
Except as he opened his eyes he was alone. Suddenly that wasn't a good thing. The ghost of her warmth left his body and he touched his shoulder to feel a semblance of her embrace.
"You'll never know dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away..."
Kenny couldn't help the mournful wail that tore from his throat as he heard Butters sing the last half of the song, gently. He could hear a door close and his feet crunch against the snow.
"You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine...
You make me happy
Everyday...
You'll never know dear,
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away..." Butters sounded angelic, the voice of reason and he felt his breathing even out. Kenny listened to him hum quietly, comfortingly, and closed his eyes. Tears slipped from his eyes and rolled slowly down his cheeks.
"Kenny?" The voice on the other end asked quietly, bringing him back from the thoughts that followed. Kenny breathed a quiet reply and dug his nails into his shoulder. "What do you want to do over break?"
He shook his head. His eyes looked at the gun and his numb fingers reached for it. "Ken?"
His fingers touched the cold metal and he whimpered as he lifted it once more. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, and pointed the gun at a slight angle pointing up. His finger was on the trigger and he felt tears burn down his cheeks as they fell. "Kenny, put the gun down."
His eyes opened and his index finger hovered over the trigger.
"Listen to me." This wasn't a suggestion or quiet mumble. This was a command. "Put down the gun, put the safety on. It's not there... got it? You're not going to die, tonight. You're not giving up on me."
Those words struck Kenny's heart and his eyes widened. He pulled the barrel from his mouth and felt his jaw relax. He gazed at the pistol and touched the cold metal, ran his finger over the muzzle, and held the barrel to his head.
"You're not a quitter, you're a fighter. It's not in your blood, it's not who you are. I know this is hard, Ken, I know. You know I do. I know you're scared and you don't feel right and everything is so fucked up, but listen to me... you're gonna be okay. This is only temporary. But if you killed yourself now you wouldn't know how strong you really are. I know you are. I see it, I feel it... I know you're embarrassed to cry and I know you're crying... you can't hold it back, hon. I know you're terrified to close your eyes and I know you don't think it will ever stop but it does. I love you, Kenneth McCormick. I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes, and... I can't stand the thought of me not being able to help you. I can't lose you again, I would go insane. I can't find you like that. You're not dead, Kenny, you're so alive. It's okay to hurt, it's okay to cry, it's okay to feel fucked up... but it's not okay for you to give up on me." A moment's pause. "I'm here. Where are you?"
Kenny opened his eyes and stared out at the pond. The water had frozen over and the moon glowed over the frozen water and snow, illuminating the night.
"B-by the pond..."
Kenny heard snow crunch and he held the gun in his hand. Butters knelt before him and held his wrist.
"Give me the gun."
His voice was kind but stern and Kenny felt his grip on it loosen. Butters slid the safety button to "s" and tossed the gun on the ground. He held a hand out in front of Kenny and then slowly moved to put it on his back. Kenny whimpered as he felt the innocent, loving touch, and Butters recoiled.
"You're going to get sick... c'mon, I got the heater on full blast in the car. We can go in there, okay?" Butters asked. Kenny gave a nod and slowly moved to stand. He winced and let out a pained gasp as he situated his legs. Butters put his hand around his waist, to the small of his back, and ever so gently helped lift him off the bench. Kenny bit his lip and staggered forward, then closed his eyes as he throbbed in pain. "Can you walk?" Kenny nodded and curled into Butters' side as the bright blonde wrapped an arm around him. He watched as he bent down and grabbed the gun, then put it in his coat pocket.
Kenny rested his head on Butters' shoulder and felt his body wrack with sobs. The older boy tightened his grip and slowed down, careful so Kenny wouldn't slip as they ascended the snowy hill.
Butters opened the passenger seat door and lowered the seat to a laying position rather than sitting. Kenny looked at it in distaste but lowered himself in nonetheless. He stared at the driver's side door and watched as Butters sat down next to him, then lowered his own seat.
"There. Now we're equal." Kenny smiled weakly and Butters turned to lay more on his stomach. "Why did you come out here?"
"I... I needed to think. If I... I figured no one would find me. What if I died and no one r-remembered what happened? N-no one would care or worry... I d-don't want them to worry. I don't want you to worry."
"I always worry about you, bright eyes." Kenny furrowed his eyebrows at that. But Butters just smiled at him and he felt himself relax in the warmth, in the seat, and soon he found himself liking that little nickname. "Just like you always worry about me."
"I don't know if I can live like this... I'd come back in twelve hours, I wouldn't even-"
"No. That's not you. You've only killed yourself to help people... or prove a point. This wouldn't be anything but selfish, and you're the most selfless person I know. I'd be mad if you killed yourself. Sad too, devastated. But mad." Kenny closed his eyes and heard Butters sigh softly. "I considered killing myself when I was little... but before I knew what was happening I was on a plane to Hawaii."
The dark blonde opened his eyes and stared right into the azure pools across from him.
"And someone saved me. Someone took the time to make sure I was okay. My guardian angel. You've always been there for me and... here I am. I took the gun from you, and now you're going home. You're gonna call me whenever you feel like this... and I won't tell anyone. I covered for you with Kyle and Stan, they were worried sick."
"It's always worry, it's always-"
"Because you left, Kenny!" Butters cried, "because they didn't know where you went or what could happen! They're terrified, we're all terrified. You can't leave us, okay?! Because they know! Subconsciously they know that when you don't come back it's because you're dead. They might not realize it but they know... and they knew tonight. And I am not letting you die, I'm not letting you give up that easy. I don't care if you're immortal. I don't care if you'll come back... you think dying fucking sucks? Losing you over and over fucking sucks. And I'm not losing you tonight. I'll die to save you."
Kenny's lip trembled and tears rolled down his cheeks. Butters slowly moved toward him and put an arm around him. Kenny let out a quiet wail and wrapped his arms around Butters; he craved comfort. He craved contact. He burrowed his head in his chest and breathed in deeply. Vanilla.
He touched his back and ran his hands through his hair, held him close and tried to hide himself. Butters tried to suppress his sobs as he began to cry. His arms held Kenny loosely; he was too scared and too wounded to hold tight. But it was enough for the taller boy, who finally unloaded all of his thoughts and pain and worry and itching in the violent wracks in his shoulders and the river of tears that soaked into Butters' coat.
"I've got you," Butters whispered in his ear, "I've got you, Kenny. You're safe..."
"Oh my God..." Kenny gasped, his fingers clutched at Butters' coat.
"You're safe... no one is going to hurt you... no one is gonna touch you."
"I'm so sorry..."
"None of this was your fault, don't blame yourself. Don't ever say you're sorry."
"I can't stop..."
"It's okay, it's gonna be okay. You're going to be okay."
"God, it hurts..."
"It's only temporary, it's okay... it's okay..."
"Don't let me go," Kenny managed with a tight voice. Butters nodded and pressed their foreheads together. "Don't let me go, please...?"
"I've got you, don't give up on me. Don't you dare give up."
Kenny pressed his nose against Butters' and looked deeply into his eyes. For the first time he felt as if someone could see into the darkest depths of his soul, read his every thought, and that feeling scared him half to death. But Butters held him, and their tears melded together as they looked into each others' eyes.
"I love you," Kenny whispered, and laughed weakly amidst the crying. Butters sniffled and laughed too, and he felt Kenny's arms tighten around him.
"I love you too," Butters whispered, "for all eternity."
Kenny felt their noses rub together and he glanced down at Butters' lips. He had felt him say that, felt them move against him and yet he didn't even push his boundaries. Kenny's throat tightened and his eyes burned as his lips hovered over Butters' and brushed against them timidly, as if they never even touched.
"You have me..." Butters nodded.
"I do," he replied, "and you have me... no one will ever take that from us," he looked down at Kenny, "I see you... just like I did that night we made love... and you are beautiful. You're alive... more than you ever were."
"That was yours..."
"It is mine..." Butters breathed. "It was yours to give, and no one's gonna take it from me. It's safe with me, you're safe."
Kenny shivered and pressed his lips against Butters' again. It was tender and chaste, but it was exactly what they needed. And it felt new. There was more passion between them than ever felt before, it burned in his skin and for the first time he didn't feel dirty. Or so wrong.
"Promise?" Kenny couldn't help but ask; he wasn't used to feeling this low; this scared and insecure. This close to purity. Butters nodded and ran a hand through Kenny's damp hair.
"I promise..." Kenny closed his eyes and burrowed his head in Butters' neck. The bright blonde pressed a kiss to his head and his eyes shut as well. They had each other, they were going to be okay. They were safe.
Everything was going to be okay. He just knew it...
It had to be...
Kenny shivered and counted his breaths as he lay in his arms. His body felt warm, inviting. Like finally being able to breathe when you finally submerge from freezing cold water. Warm and enveloping; it was comfort in the purest form. He held him tighter and exhaled.