#*mctucker

A hand on Craig's wrist pulls him to a halt and whirls him around as startling light blue eyes meet his. Craig vainly attempts to pull away, only to hear words that stop his movements, words that are just as stilling as a kiss. "Don't run away this time. Please," Kenny begs as he stares at Craig intently. His eyes match the worry in his voice that Craig can somehow catch. It is the worry that freezes Craig's bones. He stops struggling to run away. His body slumps and Kenny drags his dead weight from the sidewalk and to the privacy of trees.

Craig leans against a tree to hide the fact he might just fall apart from the memories that are now digging inside of his mind. He averts his gaze from Kenny's eyes to the dirty snow that covers both of their feet. Kenny is too close, and he is all too aware of it. The thoughts that are rubbing uncomfortably against his memories in his jumbled mind to create something else as that familiar unsettling feeling sets in the pit of his stomach and throughout his entire being. He cannot place it as his hands begin to shake. No. He was not allowed have a panic attack right now. The tendrils of one are not creeping in and choking his throat, causing him to breathe deeply. He is not lifting his hands to block out the thoughts, and he is definitely not going to cry. This is not a panic attack. Not now, any time but now.

Reality trumps fantasy as Craig begins to fall to the snow trembling slightly. Kenny instantly recognises it from the previous incident in the woods. It is the exact same protective position as before. Craig's breath comes out laboured as he tries desperately to calm down. There is no Ruby here to help him this time. Kenny wants to help, but he is hesitant to how. His childhood vigilante skills never taught him how to deal with things like this. He wants to know what Ruby said, but he is sure she has a certain something he does not. He sighs deciding anything he tries might be better than nothing at all.

That is why there are suddenly two orange clad arms wrapped around Craig to still the shaking and placate the thoughts. That is why Craig is so suddenly shocked out of his panic attack at a sudden, affectionate embrace as his indigo eyes open wide having not really expecting anything but definitely not expecting this. He is wide-eyed and surprised, gloved blue fingers somehow finding their ways to the arms to check if they are really there. Fingers that end up gripping the parka that they come into contact with, the body.

"Stop running away. I'll only catch you," Kenny whispers. His blond hair tickles Craig's cheek as he says the words. The words that cause Craig to finally find the him he hid behind. Still, somehow he does not want to move from the snow he sits in. He only wants to stay here in that peaceful moment. This moment in which he feels a spreading calmness in his fingers and toes.

"That's so fucking cheesy McCormick," Craig finally says to shatter the silence growing between them. The words are said in their usual sarcasm, but you can hear the slight crack in Craig's voice when he makes the comment. He is still shaking ever so slightly, but now his mind blames the cold, blames the wind, anything but himself. He is holding the other with no sign of letting go despite his obvious lack of trust in these types of things (too close, too close). He pushes away his nerves and panicking thoughts as he focuses on the small warmth from the body pressing against his. He has no idea how long they stay like that, him leaning in and buried in the fabric of Kenny's parka and Kenny all too wrapped around. All he knows is that when they do break apart, a part of him longs to be wrapped in the arms again (that part of him that does not win although).

Craig stares at his feet as he keeps his knees pressed to his chest. He is now trying to ignore the boy in front of him, He tries to pretend he is not there and this did not happen. He allows the silence to return and envelop them. His apathy and indifference wash over him like a blanket (an invisible cloak). Craig wants to be invisible, to hide and fade away, but he is trapped here in good ol' South Park with the memories that stab at him every day, every night, and in every fucking nightmare he cannot seem to ever wake up from until he is biting back the urge to scream. He is trapped in red and violet and blue (blood and bruises and scars). He cannot fathom any of it, his existence and what he ever did so wrong to deserve it all.

"I was born."

The declaration is a quiet whisper carried on the wind right to Kenny's ears. He does not see the confused expression, only continues in a mechanical monotone. "I was born, and I was hated for being born." That is the answer to all his problems as far as he can tell. Everything is caused by contempt everyone (anyone) has for him. He is despised for being who he was, who he is not, his simple existence. The thoughts are pushing through his mind and eats away reason like a parasite. He very well knows that he is loved. He is cared about. Still, those thoughts seem ridiculous in that moment. Memories paint everything sombre black, sombre blue.

Then it is gone as fast as it came. The words are whispers in the wind, and Craig is standing up as if the words had not been said, as if nothing really did happen. His legs are walking off before Kenny could even stumble after him. He pulls at his hat to make it cover his eyes more only to find it cannot envelop him like the security blanket it used to be, but the simple feel of the knit beneath his fingers reminds him of hot cocoa, laughing, cosy couches and books on coffee tables. He wants to go home (not home, but home). He wants to go where his heart is, and where he can be himself without the façade of being okay. He walks faster at the thought.

Kenny nods to the question, but his eyes do not look down at the textbook. Instead, they wander to where he sees a blue chullo peeking from beyond a row of books. "I'll definitely study more later..." he promises in an offhand manner as he stands and walks away from the table. Kyle hisses a whisper to stop him, but Kenny has a pretty long stride and is already out of earshot. It was either this, or he was simply ignoring Kyle.

Craig is reading a book. He picked it up at random, but now he is completely captivated. It looks a bit under-advanced for his age, but the story seems to relate to his own life. The boy in the story kidnapped and abused only to come home and find nothing is the same. His friends abandon him, and he is picked on day after day. He is so entranced that he does not notice Kenny stepping behind him and poking his shoulder. He mutters a "fuck off", not bothering to look up and see who is disturbing him.

"Is that any way to talk to the guy who is willing to buy you something at Harbucks?" Craig looks up at the words and the voice. He tilts his head ever so slightly wondering why Kenny is there. They had not spoken in nearly a week, and he thought that perhaps he had lost his newly acquainted friend. He arches a brow in questioning and shuts the book. "Seriously," Kenny says, "I just got paid, and all my other friends are too busy to hang out with me at the moment," The tiny white lie slips out easily. He knows very well all of his friends will be willing to accept the invitation if asked.

Craig stares a bit more before agreeing. The lie stops him from wondering why exactly Kenny came to him. He follows Kenny to the cafe, Kenny happily ordering a Mocha Valencia and a cinnamon muffin. Craig listens to the order and scans the place with a quick gaze. He had been searching for blond hair and twitching fingers when the waitress finished writing down Kenny's order and turned to him. "Peppermint cocoa," he says to the waitress. He turns back to looking at Kenny across the table, fingers absentmindedly thumbing the sleeves of his hoodie.

Kenny manages to drag Craig into a conversation. Craig's eyes look more their violet hue by the time the waitress hands them their orders. They both stop talking to enjoy their beverages. Although, unlike most silences he has with other people, Craig feels at ease. It is the first time in a while that Craig has felt this comfortable outside his Nana's house.

It is the first time he feels a lot of things.

The feelings are ignored, blindsided by indulging in his cocoa. They also go unnoticed because he just doesn't want to notice them. He simply takes a long sip of the cocoa, eyes closing as he drinks it. He licks away any whip cream that is on his face. It feels good not to worry, not to think about unpleasant things. He stares out the window to watch the passersby.

The slightest touch can startle anybody under the right circumstances. This even goes for stoic boys who appear to never be fazed. Kenny's ungloved fingers reach and wipe the corners of Craig's mouth to his cheek. "Sprinkle," he explains to deaf ears. Craig's hearing dies for a split second as he stares. The thoughts are coming back to him, but the memories are drowning in blue eyes. An unwanted flush covers his deadpanned face. The hand that reaches up and touches his cheek feels the heat, and his eyes widen slightly.

Honey blond hair and a cheesy grin is his undoing.

Craig's jumbled mind seems to catch up with the situation and understand what Kenny had said. "... Sprinkle...," he says slowly his voice still steady despite everything. His eyes are a swirling indigo, bright violet tinged over the blue to create the colour. His hand never leaves his cheek, apathy covering his features yet a contradicting light flush is giving him away. It does not help that Craig is outrageously pale skinned.

"Craig Tucker, I believe you are blushing," Kenny states without thinking. He is just as surprised as Craig is. The movements were an act of unconscious thinking. He had not thought Craig would react in this way. He had not thought at all. His words do not help the situation. They only make Craig's flush grow darker. It is a bit comical, an impassive face wearing a blush. In fact, Kenny thinks it is a rather flattering on Craig.

"I am," Craig says in disbelief. His eyes widen as his mind clears completely, and he realizes how his body betrayed him and his pact to apathy. "Fucking," he curses as he looks down at his cocoa, blaming the heat on his face on the steam coming from his dark mug. "I mean, I'm not... Shit," he says keeping his voice in monotone.

Kenny tilts his head. "I think it suits you," he says with a grin. He has no idea why, but he wants to fluster Craig just a bit more. He wants to see just how far he can go before Craig gets up and leaves. A tiny bit of Kenny is hoping Craig will do something "unexpected." He has not hung around the other long enough to be sure of what to expect.

Craig curses again, not looking up so he could will the blush back down. "Fuck you, McCormick," Craig finally says standing up from the table. His legs are preparing to walk right out of Harbucks and back home, but then Kenny stops him with a restraining hand around his wrist and a good-natured laugh. Both stop Craig in his attempt to escape, his curses dying in his throat momentarily as he stares at the one across the table once more.

Blue eyes are sparkling as they realize they have accomplished their mission. "Shit Tucker," Kenny says, using Craig's last name just to be coy, "You sure can't take a compliment very well can you?" There is a smirk on his lips. His comments are uncontrollable, the words coming out on their own.

Kenny's uncontrollable comments match Craig's uncontrollable thought process. As quickly as it halted, it came stuttering and bumbling back. The things his mind saying running together and not making any sense at all. Craig frowns slightly again at this, not liking the foreign feelings. "Fuck you. You just like making people uncomfortable," he says finding that the flush across his cheeks does not die down at all. In actuality it is still there faintly, Craig feels it the heat warming his cheeks and threatening to colour his ears as well. He is trying his best to muster the will power to push it back down, but Kenny is just saying some other thing to make him become flustered again. He feels like Tweek. Not in the way of twitches and sudden shouts, but in the way he suddenly has a quickening heart and his thoughts are not in order at all.

Kenny finds his smirk growing into a smile. "Correction, I just like making you uncomfortable Tucker," he says reducing Craig to another silence. Craig somehow finds himself sitting down again in this peculiar situation with no idea what he is doing. He stares at his mug once again as if it holds some sort of answer. There is an odd nagging at the back of Craig's mind that this is so very wrong, but he pushes it back and focuses on the whipped cream swirling in his half-drunken cocoa.

Words finally find the way to his lips as the feeling is pushed back completely, a hand reaching down to pick at his sleeve beneath the table. "... Consider yourself successful," Craig mutters looking up from his mug to the male across to him. Those baby blues are staring at him too hard to the extent that they are boring holes into his head. He nearly regrets lifting his gaze from the cocoa to those eyes because now he cannot look away. He does not realise there is a hand caressing his cheek or another on his shoulder to tug him closer.

Two meets one across the table although neither really expected the turn of events. A simple brush of the lips that taste of peppermint cocoa mixed with orange espresso tinged with the everlasting flavour of nicotine. It is a sweet kiss that lacks the usual eagerness expected of Kenny McCormick, long-lasting, but nothing more than that simple pressing of their lips across the table. Then Craig's arms begin to shake. His breath catches in his throat the longer they continue as one minute became five. It is his mind tangling with his heart and the thoughts in between.

The nightmares always rouse Craig before anyone else. He wakes with the images of blood and screaming painting his mind. He knows deep down that in that the death was inevitable. One of them was going to die in that house. He is just not sure if Ruby made the right decision in playing God. He nibbles his lip absentmindedly as he wanders around the empty house. He arrives to the kitchen and fixes himself a cup of hot chocolate. He secretly drinks a cup every morning, not wanting to admit just how much he enjoys the sugary indulgence.

Craig munches on the peppermint stick while he cleans up any evidence he had been there. He walks to the bathroom, exiting just when Ruby is waking up. She passes him in the hallway as if not even noticing him. Her eyes are empty as she brushes past. Craig's eyes glance at her, but instead of focusing on surfacing worry he walks to the living room and picks up a novel resting on the coffee table. He loses himself in the book for the next hour. The world of words is so much more pleasurable to the world of his own.

A tap on the shoulder makes Craig slip out of his reading. He looks up and meets eyes like his own and red hair. Lips form a sentence to tell him it is time to go. Craig nods and places the book back in its place. He remembers the page number in case he comes back to it before following Ruby out the front door. Cold air and frost suit their moods when they leave their secret paradise. His feet shuffle on the sidewalk for a bit, but he picks up pace when he pulls out a cigarette. Only one because he and his sister agree that it is cheaper to share a fag between them rather than smoke one a piece. Besides, they both enjoy the closeness of sharing despite neither of them admitting it.

They arrive at the school and part with their usual hesitation. Craig watches her until she is in the building. The cigarette is still between his lips as he watches silently. He does not burn it out until he reaches his own school. He watches the red embers go grey in the wastebin before pushing open the large double doors of South Park High. He stops at his locker which is "fortunately" located near the guidance counsellor.

Craig turns the combination with ease, his locker never changing in the past three years. He had wished to be closer to his friends, but it seems as if that even that does not matter any longer. His friends are gone, but the emotion is drowned out with a tardy bell. It is gone just as fast as it came. The leftover tendrils of the feeling are pushed away before they can form full thoughts of dreams. His dreams never come true in the way he hopes. Dreaming and wishing is a risky business.

Craig walks down the hall with an uncaring air. Mind forced blank as he passes the other lollygaggers in the hallways. He finds his way but is late again. He sits through his class boredly, eyes staring ahead but not really looking. He has perfected the talent of not caring to the very detail. Fifteen minutes into the class his eyes shift to the window. He stares at the falling snow. Snow in November is not an odd thing in for South Park. He watches the flakes fall until he suddenly sees a flash of orange fly past the window. Then there is a face with the colour, one he recognizes from yesterday. A hand is beckoning him over clad in light brown gloves. He shakes his head, noticing that a few students are turning around to stare. It will not be long before the teacher catches them. Craig shakes head even firmer, his face not changing as he tries to get Kenny away before they are sent to the principal. Fortunately, Kenny ducks out of sight by the time the teacher does turn around.

Ten minutes pass before there is a light knock on the door. The teacher sighs wondering who is interrupting her lesson. Despite her slight irritation, she tells the student behind the door that it is unlocked. Craig sees Kenny come in, and those cyan eyes glance at him ever so subtly. None of the other students even notice. They do notice what he says however. "Craig Tucker needs to report to the office immediately," he says appearing serious in a calm, carefree manner. Craig is staring in disbelief wondering what Kenny is up to despite the impassiveness air he is still giving off.

The teacher nods. She is far too used to Craig being sent to the office that she does not even bother to ask for evidence of Kenny's claim. "Mr. Tucker, please leave," she says motioning for Craig to stand. Her eyes shift back to Kenny, who is holding back the urge to grin widely. "As for you Mr. McCormick, can you please tell the central office to wait before or after my class hours to interrupt me? I would appreciate it," she says as she turns back to the board to continue rambling on about whatever she is talking about.

Kenny nods only paying a bit of attention to her. He is actually looking through his peripherals as Craig gathers his stuff. Craig is soon walking out of the door in front of him, and Kenny gives a quick wave to the teacher before he shuts the door behind them. Craig wants to question the situation, but Kenny offers an explanation before he can get the sentence free from his lips. "I was bored, and I thought today was enough to be 'later this week'," he says leading Craig to the nurse's office.

Craig snorts, a look of surprise flitting over his features. His display of surprise is slightly arched eyebrows and maybe widened eyes. Other than that, his face remains impassive. That snort had been the closest thing he had came to a laugh in the weeks since his mother's imprisonment and his father's death. He covers it up just as quickly as it came and looks around the spotless nurse office. He sees why Kenny has brought him here; the poor boy's things are tossed in a corner.

Craig waits as Kenny puts his book and things in his bag, his own hands getting antsy in their waiting. He picks up a tongue depressor to put in his mouth to have something to do. He does not see Kenny's eyes watching his movements, but he does notice when the other is finally done. He adjusts his bag again and walks alongside Kenny out the door. From there he is led to a familiar side door that the school pretends not to know about. He knows because he has sneaked out of this very door several times to escape the prison of a school.

Craig's eyes squint as they adjust to the warm sunshine. He does not question where they are going. His curiosity for things never has been the best. When his mind did begin to wander, it focuses on how the hell had he gotten himself tangled with the person beside him. He decides to take a quick glance to see what expression Kenny is wearing. He is sure that Kenny is someone he can read well. Kenny seems like he is too honest.

Kenny is humming softly with a soft smile on his face. His eyes look straight ahead, and his expression is calm, carefree. Craig stares a bit, his mind blanking as it usually does yet not the same at the exact same time. His eyes fixture on how Kenny's hair is only slightly showing due to the other pulling his hood to cover his head. He did not fasten the mouthpiece, so his face is open to the wind. This also made his face open to Craig's vision. Suddenly the blank thoughts pick up the tendrils of something growing, not from his mind but his heart. Craig stares before suddenly finding it so very hard to breathe. He cannot have a panic attack here, not now. He whispers this to his mind, but then he takes off in a sprint.

Maybe it would have been wiser for Craig to save his favourite finger for when he got to his feet, but Craig had not been thinking. His consequence to his finger reflex was a kick to the stomach while he is still on his knees. He falls again, and his face slams into the concrete as he struggles not to cough again. Coughing, pain, crying, and emotion are all things he does not even consider as the familiarity of his situation passes through him.

As the boot hits Craig's back he manages to pick the pieces of a broken memory. His lucidity brought on by a headache making it hard for him to focus. He manages to count three boys before one of them hoist him up so the other can kick him openly. The cough Craig had been holding in leaves his mouth and hacks, and it is getting harder to ignore the blood that is running down his lips, his face, and his hands. He kicks in an attempt to strike one of the boys and escape only to get slapped in the face again.

Craig looks up into the hate-filled eyes as the other laughs and spits the blood he has in his mouth on the aggressor's shirt. "Fuck you... fuckin' bastard," he says his voice reflecting the cold, deadpanned expression he wears. He can hear the irritated noise the boy makes. He can see the fist rise. He counts the seconds until first contact.

One... Two... Three...

When had he closed his eyes? Craig opens them when nothing happens. Then he feels himself falling to the ground and hears the sound of running footsteps. Kenny towers over the leader of the group that attacked Craig with a broken beer bottle in his hand. He looks over at Craig and grins. "You have the bastard part right. Bringing four upperclassmen to help him beat up some lowerclassman is just not fair," he states to explain his interference. If there is one thing Kenny McCormick cannot stand is injustice. He is still a vigilante in his heart. A superhero ready to save anyone who needs his help.

Craig looks up and wipes his mouth again. His eyes whispering a thank you his lips do not form. For the first time his eyes actually register the one in front of him as a friend. He takes the hand offered to him as he continues to absorb the fact. His thoughts are disjointed somehow, and he blames how his head had hit the concrete before. "I'm used to it," he finally says earning a frown he does not see.

The frown fades as he follows Craig off of the school grounds. Craig glances back, but he does not tell Kenny to leave. He just continues to walk until he reaches the place where Ruby is waiting for him. Her eyes rise to question the one behind him before turning back to her brother who merely gives her a small shrug in response. Kenny just stands off to the side kind of looking at the clouds overhead before following as they continue walking. He stops Craig before they can continue on with a small yell of his name. "Wanna do something later this week?" he asks once he has the noirette's attention.

Craig nods quickly on impulse, not really paying attention to the shouted question. His sister is staring at him as he agrees, her eyes dark as she seems to be questioning the situation. Kenny pays her no heed, Craig's response enough to leave him in a good mood as he turns to walk away. Ruby is still staring at him with those eyes as if she does not trust him until she faces the opposite direction continuing to walk with Craig. "You've made a friend," she says once they are half a mile from the school and walking toward home.

Craig says nothing, not really sure if that is exactly what Kenny is. He looked at the other as a friend when he helped him in the fight, but now his deep rooted trust issues resurface and bring with them the same doubt Ruby holds. Ruby tugs out a cigarette as he continues to say nothing. She wants her brother to have friends, but she wants him to be careful. Most of the other people he had chosen as friends betrayed him in the last few harrowing weeks. They betrayed him in the worst way possible: they abandoned him.

Ruby does not wish for that to happen to her brother again.