Hey guys. Back with another chapter for this fic. As always, feel free to leave a review, it would mean a lot to me.
Chapter 27
Craig didn't show up at the AA meeting. Kenny had a lump in his throat, shaking off a gut feeling that something was wrong. But he knew what was wrong. Last night, he had yelled at Craig, and he regretted it. He swallowed his fears as a new member stood up, a man who looked to be about Kenny's age; with dark circles under his eyes, his eyes darting around the room. He shook nervously, putting up a hand and waving quickly, introducing himself as James. James sat down and the group leader motioned to Kenny.
"Have you seen Craig recently?" the group leader asked. Kenny shook his head, frowning.
"Just yesterday, but other than that I haven't even gotten a call from him." Kenny answered, the familiar lump of fear in his throat. "I'm actually kind of… worried for him."
"I'm sure he's fine." The group leader had an expression to match Kenny's. "We can't wait forever. We have to start the meeting now."
Kenny pulled up to Craig's house, killing the engine. He hopped out of the car, approaching the door, hesitantly knocking. "Craig?" he called. There was no answer for several minutes. Kenny swallowed, turning the doorknob. The door creaked open. The house was dimly lit; the only light was filtering through the window. It cast onto a chair in front of the TV; Kenny could barely see that Craig was sitting in it; he saw his messy black hair, the chair turned away from Kenny.
"H-hey, Craig…" Kenny rubbed the back of his neck, nervously awaiting a response. "How are you doing, man?"
"Kenny." Craig's voice was hoarse. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice shaky.
"I-I was worried. You weren't at the meeting today, so I thought-" Kenny started, but Craig cut him off by raising a hand. He lowered it and reached for a bottle of Jack Daniels beside him on the floor, taking a long drink. Kenny thought he saw blood smearing Craig's arm. He heard Craig swirling the contents of the bottle, sighing quietly.
"I came to a conclusion." Craig slurred, his words slightly jumbled.
"W-what's that?" Kenny swallowed, his heart dropping. "What happened to your arm, Craig? Is that blood?"
Silence.
"Craig?"
Craig propped the bottle between his legs and lit a cigarette, taking a drag, blowing smoke into the air. "My family disowned me. I can't get rid of my feelings for you, my friends left me. But the only thing I have left is you. And I can't even have that." Craig's voice was slightly above a whisper.
"You have me, Craig." Kenny stated. "C-can I just…" Kenny walked up to the chair and moved to face Craig. His eyes widened when he saw numerous cuts on Craig's left arm. "C-Craig…?" Kenny choked out. "Craig, what is going on?"
Craig had a sore vacant look on his face; Kenny could tell his mind was elsewhere. His eyes were dark, dark circles under them. He looked completely miserable. "When you left last night, I broke down. I just knew you would never have feelings for me, Kenny. That sounds selfish of me, but I just really needed you as much as you needed me in that time…" Craig trailed off, taking another long drag of his cigarette. "But now I realize something." He went on, a small smile on his face. "Nothing truly was getting better for me. Even during those two years I was sober, my friends and family distrusted me and eventually lost contact with me altogether."
Kenny swallowed the lump in his throat. "You have me, Craig. You are my best friend. Please don't talk like this-" he was cut off as Craig picked up an object at his side that was blended in with the black recliner.
"I'm just a hinder in your life, Kenny. Karen even said it herself. It's my fault. I got you back into your old habits. I'll always love you, Kenny. Please don't forget that." Craig's voice wavered terribly; he looked like he was almost in tears.
"What are you doing, Craig? Craig?!" Kenny's heart flipped as he saw Craig slowly lifting up a gun to his temple, shaking. "P-put the gun down! Please don't do this to me, Craig! I love you, you're my best friend, please don't leave me like this!"
"I'll see you soon, Kenny." Craig pulled the trigger; it felt like the world stopped spinning in that moment for Kenny. It went in slow motion; Kenny had his hand out reaching for the gun, his eyes widened. He stared in disbelief, blood splattered on the wall beside him, blood spattering Kenny's white shirt.
"CRAIG!"
"I'm sorry. We couldn't save him." A doctor murmured. Kenny was still in complete shock, he could barely speak. His eyes were wide, darting all around the waiting room of the hospital.
"Who?" Kenny asked. "Everything is fine. Craig will walk out of that room there," Kenny pointed towards the ICU room that Craig was wheeled into, "And say, 'Hey, Kenny. I'm okay!'"
The doctor's eyes softened. He didn't know what else to say, so he walked away and left Kenny standing in the middle of the waiting room. Several people stared at him, blood still spattering Kenny's shirt. Kenny turned to a man who was sitting cattycorner from where he was standing. "Craig is my best friend." he told the man. "Everything is fine. Everything is… f-f…" Kenny ran to the nearest trashcan and hurled, grabbing the rim firmly. The man got up, his features softening. He walked to Kenny, patting his back. Kenny shook, his body trembling greatly. "My best friend decided to kill himself today." Kenny stated. "In front of me. Why did he do that? Can anyone explain it to me?" Kenny felt a knot in his stomach as he threw up again, trembling. He spit into the trashcan as he stood up slowly, turning to the man.
"Some things just happen that we can't control." The man stated, his voice sympathetic. "Where are your friends, boy? You need them right now."
"Kenny!" Stan rushed in from the far door and down the hall, running up to his friend. He panted as he stopped in front of the two men, frowning. "What happened? Are you alright?"
Kenny smiled. "Everything is fine, Stan."
The man left, going back to his own seat.
"Y-you have blood on you, Kenny…" Stan trailed off as he surveyed Kenny's body, looking for any entry points. "Are you hurt? Please tell me what happened."
Kenny's eyes were still wide, a look of distraught in them. He closed his eyes, smiling more now. "Everything is fine." He repeated.
He's in denial. Stan thought. The others came rushing in; Cartman, Butters, Stan, and even Karen followed behind. Karen hesitated as she stopped further away from the four men.
Kenny began pacing the waiting room, stopping short when Karen pulled him into the corner. "What is going on, Ken?" she whispered quietly. Kenny looked at her, a look of pure distraught on his face. He stared at her, swallowing his urge to sob. Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to roll down his cheeks.
"He's not dead, Karen. He's just… he's just…" Kenny swallowed the lump in his throat. "Why did he do this to me?"
"Who, Kenny?" Karen persisted.
"Craig." Kenny was ready to break down. "He's not dead, right? Please tell me he's not dead."
"Ken…"
"I love him so much, Karen. He is my best friend. Why did he do this to me?" Kenny repeated, trembling.
Karen frowned, her features softening.
"I lost two people I loved because I couldn't help them. I couldn't help them, Karen. They are both dead because of me. Because of me." Kenny's chest began to hurt. "They were hurting, so they decided to hurt me, too. Why?"
Karen placed a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "Ken it's going to be okay."
"I don't think so." Kenny smiled. "They just really wanted to send me over the edge, didn't they? They just want to see me hurt. Well, good job, guys. You accomplished it pretty well. Bravo." Kenny began clapping, looking up.
"Ken…" Karen swallowed.
Kenny grabbed the sides of his head, letting out a frustrated groan. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.
The poor thing… Karen thought, her features softening. He's lost two people he was close to due to the same way.
The funeral was two days after Craig's death. Kenny stood, his head bowed in front of the casket as the lead man said the words of remembrance. The coffin was being lowered into the ground, Craig's little sister ready to burst into tears. Kenny felt the same way, mixed with anger and frustration. He held Craig's cross necklace in his hand, letting it dangle slightly. Craig's mother ordered him to take it; she couldn't even look Kenny in the eye, and she left before the service was over. So did Craig's father. Craig's sister still remained as she stood next to Kenny. Kenny choked back tears as dirt was piling on top of the coffin, gripping the necklace in his hand tighter.
I will never see him again.
A thought came to Kenny's mind, a dark flicker of realization. If I just kill myself with the gun Travis gave me, I can see him again. No, I'm not thinking rationally. He shook the thought out of his mind, trying to focus on the funeral.
Two weeks had passed since Craig's death. Kenny sat at the table in his apartment, staring at the gun Travis had given him. Again, contemplating eternal death. If I do it, it'll be all over. No more pain. No more suffering. I can see Craig again. I can see my sister again. Dark thoughts were swirling around in Kenny's head, the room dark aside from the kitchen light illuminating the gun on the table.
A knock at the door snapped Kenny out of his intrusive thoughts. He quickly shoved the gun under his couch cushions, panicking as his heart leapt in his chest. "C-coming!" he stuttered, rushing to the door. He wanted to be alone, but he wanted company as well, he was in his own head, a dark territory to be in lately.
Kenny unlocked the door, swinging it open to find Stan, Kyle, Cartman, Butters and Karen in the threshold.
"Hey Ken." Karen started after a few seconds of silence. "We came to check on you." her voice was soft with sympathy.
"Hey guys." Kenny's voice was barely a mumble as he rubbed the back of his neck, running a hand through his messy blond hair. "I'm fine. Just having a rough day."
"Can we come in?" Cartman piped up.
"Sure." Kenny responded lowly, his voice monotone. He led the group in, flipping on the main light switch and illuminating the darkened apartment. He begged silently that one of them didn't sit on the couch where the gun was shoved under the cushions.
"I've just taken the week off of work for bereavement." Kenny muttered, pouring himself a glass of cola. he plopped a few ice cubes in the glass, the frozen ice clinking in the cup. "Does anyone want something to drink?"
The group exchanged looks with each other, all nodding in unison.
Kenny pulled out five more Cokes from the fridge, placing them on the counter. Cartman popped the top first, taking a sip. "So Ken, how you been?" he ventured, knowing the answer to the question already.
"Just taking it one day at a time." Kenny mumbled, taking a long chug of his soda, wishing so badly it was a tall shot of Jack Daniels.
A moment went by without a word from the group, and Kenny piped up again. "I blame myself. I yelled at Craig the night before and..." he trailed off, tears coming to his eyes. "I feel like I was one the one who pulled the trigger, in a way."
Karen frowned. "Ken..." she whispered. "Craig had a lot going on mentally. It wasn't your fault."
"I can't sleep... I've barely eaten the last two weeks... It's just all a mess." Kenny sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I feel like I played with his emotions. Like I used him. The scene of him shooting himself in the head just keeps playing over and over again in my head. I haven't been able to throw that shirt away I wore the night it happened."
"Maybe you need to go to therapy, dude. It might help. It seems like you have PTSD." Stan reasoned, placing a hand on Kenny's shoulder, trying to comfort his friend.
"I keep jolting awake, in a panic." Kenny mumbled.
Kyle nodded. "I think therapy might help. It's worth a shot."
The group nodded a silent agreement.
"I'll even help pay for it." Karen offered. "If you think it will be too expensive, we'll all chip in." Karen suggested, looking at the four other men. The others nodded.
"Whatever will help you get better, Kenny." Butters piped up.
"Thanks, guys." Kenny whispered. "That means a lot to me."