Buried (a Creek fic)

19. Forget

It probably took twenty minutes until Craig decided to finally get off the bedroom floor, ignoring the part of himself that was inwardly complaining at the thought. It seemed much more enjoyable for him to stay in the empty bedroom than to go back downstairs. He didn't want to see Wendy or Bebe or anyone. He just wanted to go home and leave Kenny behind, but he reminded himself that there was a reason why he was here in the first place and that was because of Kenny.

Begrudgingly, he stood and began to trudge out of the room. He noticed that the music was still blaring, but not as loud as it was before. Though, his mind might've exaggerated the volume of it before from stressing out or something. Everything did seem a lot less overwhelming, though the stench of booze and vomit was still as unpleasant as ever. He also noticed that there weren't as many people and he silently cheered for that. It would be easier to find Kenny and drag him out of there.

It wasn't too difficult to find him, considering he was chatting up some bubbly brunette with tight clothes and lots of cleavage hanging out near the kitchen. As he approached, noticing that this girl was definitely more than happy with the idea of Kenny getting in her pants, Craig wrapped his arm tightly around Kenny's and taciturnly began dragging him towards the door.

"Craig - what the fuck - I was busy!" Kenny protested.

"Don't worry, you're not missing out on much," Craig muttered, rolling his eyes and continuing to pull Kenny towards the exit. "I'm sure she'll find another drunken loser to bang her."

Ignoring his continuous whiny slurring, the two made their way outside into the frigid night air. Knowing that Kenny was in no condition to drive, Craig withdrew that car keys from the other boy's parka pocket. Once he unlocked the car, he opened the passenger side door and plopped Kenny down onto the seat. He shut the door once Kenny was fully inside and he made his way over to the driver side door.

After sliding into the seat and shutting the door behind him, Craig looked over at Kenny. The blonde didn't look so good; he was uncomfortably slouching in the seat next to Craig with his eyes going in and out of focus. His mouth was drooped into a pained-looking frown and a hand rested on his head in agony.

"You alright, dude?" Craig asked, eyebrows connecting together.

"Please don't take me home," Kenny mumbled. "I can't go back there."

"Where else am I supposed to take you then?" he wondered.

"You can't take me back there. I can't go back," he repeated, eyes frantically fixing on Craig. "Please, Craig."

"Alright, fine," Craig gave in, turning the key in the ignition and listening as the worn down car roared to life. "But I don't want to dump your drunk ass off at Stan, Kyle, or Cartman's house with no explanation, so I guess you're coming home with me for the night."

He expected some type of snarky innuendo to fly out of Kenny's mouth about spending the night at Craig's, but the boy remained strangely quiet as Craig pulled the car out of its spot on the side of the road. He turned the wheel in the direction of his house.

The two rode in silence the entire way there. Craig could here Kenny randomly sniffle at times, but he didn't tear his eyes away from the road, not wanting to witness the boy getting emotional. At one point, Kenny inhaled deeply while wiping at his eyes and pulling on the strings of his parka, his hood closing in around his head. Craig wanted to say something, anything, but he didn't want to risk the chance of making anything worse, like he usually seemed to do.

Craig parked the car in front of his house, listening to the screeching of the brakes and the tires as the car slowed to a halt. He dragged the keys out of the ignition, plopping them down into Kenny's lap. As he moved to open his door and climb out, he suddenly felt a hand, almost desperately, wrap around his right wrist.