Dark Days for Denver

Chapter Five

The first thing Kenny noticed was the smell of Craig's aftershave on his face. He had a hard time breathing, and an itchy fabric-like texture stroked his jaw when he let out a yawn. He felt like absolute shit, just like every other morning after one of his countless deaths. Although this one was different in a way, because for the first time in a long while he had really hoped it wouldn't be a permanent one. The air was uncomfortably warm and moist, like it had been kept in one small place for too long. Opening up his eyes to escape it, Kenny only found more darkness. Slowly, he listed Craig's hat off his face. The rim was covered in his drool from the inside, but he didn't mind and just put it over his dishevelled hair. It felt like a miracle he hadn't just suffocated and died yet again.

Kenny took a deep breath. His chest and lungs were fine, if a little rusty, and the throbbing pain the bullet had caused was long gone. Now that his vision was functional, he could see the sun coming up through the blinds.

The very worst part about dying- or rather, the resurrection- was always his inability to control the exact way people remembered - or rather, forgot - him. To him, every second, every event from what he assumed to be last night now was perfectly clear, like headlines and articles lining up in a newspaper. They had caught the criminal. Cartman had shot him. Craig had confessed his feelings. Kenny's chest warmed up at the very thought of Craig's hands in his, before it became so heavy that he had to grasp for another breath of fresh morning air. What version of the story was left? Him dying most definitely wasn't a part of it. Nobody ever remembered, and although in his early days it had bothered him, now he was fine with it. More crucial questions had to be tended to. Had they caught the actual criminal? Had Craig been injured? Would he remember his confession? Kenny certainly wouldn't mind hearing it again.

All that and more was rushing through his head as he picked up the phone, slowly turning disc for Wendy's number and nervously twisting the cord between his fingers. "Kenny, good morning! Why are you still at home? Didn't Craig pick you up on his way?" He rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand, trying to focus. Apparently, Craig was alive and could still drive, so that was good. "His way where?" "The police station, of course. After the events of last night, I honestly thought you'd be there interviewing or interrogating the guy yourself. Should I send someone else? I'd understand if you wanted to rest, but- ""-I'll be there in a few minutes, and the article will be in your hands before the other stations even know what's going on, Wends." He interrupted her before putting the phone back down and rushing out the door, not even pausing to put on a coat or his bag.

Although the station Cartman worked at was several blocks from his house, Kenny had no patience to wait for a taxi. The rain was pouring and soaking through his clothes and Craig's hat, his shoes were almost slipping on the wet plaster, but he didn't stop running once until he reached the entrance of the run-down police station. His lungs were burning so badly, Kenny had to take a second and lean against the cold stone walls and catch his breath. "Kenny? Are you alright?" Craig had opened the door and stared at him with an eyebrow raised in concern. "Did you...walk here through the rain?" Kenny flashed a proud grin, but his breathing was still flat and his throat hurt. "I ran, actually."

He followed Craig back into the station and through the hallway to the holding cell. In it, only one person was sitting on a bench, back leaning against the wall. The piercing blue eyes stood out against his short and ashy blond hair and the all-black clothing. The suspect, Kenny had no doubt about it. Grabbing a notepad and pen from a random nearby desk, he stepped closer towards the metal bars. Craig shook his head at him, but couldn't hold back a smile. "This is a police station and what you are doing is -technically- theft." Kenny just shrugged. Even if he had brought anything, the rain would've rendered it absolutely useless anyway, and he had to do his job. Whoever the notepad belonged to surely would understand.

"What's your name?" The blond just scoffed at him. "I don't have to tell you anything. You're not police." "You don't have to tell the police anything as well, you know that, don't you?" Kenny shot back, but added a friendly smile. "I'm Kenny McCormick, from the Denver Post, and I just have a few quick questions for an article." The man seemed to give it a few seconds of thought but ultimately nodded. "Leopold Stotch. Pleasure to meet you."

It was the kind of interview that had Kenny hooked from the very start. Leopold Stotch, who had immediately confessed to robbing all 5 locations with no regrets other than being caught, told him every detail Kenny asked for. Confirming Craig's suspicion, he had not been aware of the tickets, and his getaway car had also turned out to be a stolen vehicle. A bit of a surprise to Kenny was the motive. His parents had investments in all location, and Leo had mostly wanted to harm them, not the employee's or anyone in Denver, although he didn't seem to mind it. Classic case of a shitty childhood. Kenny could -to an extent- relate. The money from his last target had been recovered except for the few bills that got destroyed in the accident that followed their car-chase.

All remaining cash was still missing, and it was one of the few points the man refused to talk about. Kenny had to admit, for a criminal he was extremely well-mannered and polite. Not in a way that could indicate remorse, though. Kenny wasn't all that deep into psychology, but had been a journalist for long enough to know his way around people and how to interview them. Leopold didn't strike him as some criminal mastermind, but maybe that innocence was his whole deal. After two hours and five pages of the scribbled down interview, Kenny backed away from the cell. In the corner of his eye, he could see the other reporters waiting impatiently.

Craig had taken a seat near a window, eyes glued to the pages of a book. 'In Cold Blood' was written on the already worn-out cover. At least it fit into the surrounding police station. Kenny nudged him with the tip of his elbow. "Ready to get out of here?"

The Ford's motor was humming along with the soft music coming from the radio. Kenny leaned back into his seat while watching Craig's hands manoeuvre the steering wheel. His fingers were running across the leather, every so often one hand letting go to shift. Craig's eyes were focused on the asphalt ahead, the trees and landscape rushing by the window frame behind his head. "What's next for us? Our relationship, I mean." Kenny finally broke the silence that had weighted on him since leaving the station. Craig tilted his head towards him. "What do you have in mind?" "Well, for one you could stay here with me, in Denver. I know my apartment isn't the epitome of luxury, but it's enough for the two of us. We don't have to tell anyone, if you don't feel comfortable doing so. I don't care what they think, I just want you in my life."

Craig lifted his right hand from the steering wheel to take Kenny's, intertwining their fingers carefully. He had spent a lot of time chewing over their situation, but eventually come to the conclusion that there had never been a choice for him to make in the first place. He had never in his life experiences a happiness like this one. How could anyone let go of something so beautiful? His thumb caressed the back of Kenny's fingers. "I'd like that."

Behind the mountains the sun was slowly disappearing, a golden hue settling in just like the night before. It felt so oddly familiar, although Craig couldn't pinpoint the memory. Everything he remembered was hazy and clouded. He blamed it on either sleep deprivation, caffeine or the general shock and rush of adrenaline. "Can I confess something? I'm actually not sure if I told you already last night, but just in case, I just want to say it again and make sure. I love you, Kenny."

The smile that promptly formed on Kenny's lips held something more, he was sure of it. "I love you, too, Craig."

As Craig parked the car and Kenny got out to watch the sunset, he noticed Kenny's final piece of writing left on the seat. Careful not to bend the paper he picked it up. The black ink was dried up without smudges.

'Dark Days for Denver are over'

Stepping out of the car, he observed Kenny climb onto the Ford's roof, stretching out his arms into the sunset. Craig got up as well, sinking down next to his boyfriend. The metal was cold and wet, but Kenny's arms were filled with more comfort and warmth than any blanket could have been. Further leaning in, Craig closed his eyes, overwhelmed by the absolute beauty of his surroundings.