During Craig's time sitting quietly beside Tweek's bedside, he'd already grown accustomed to the smell of death that clung to the air of the hospital. The squeaking wheels of the gurneys that moved patients around irritated his ears, and the walls littered with advice bored him. Despite one of his friends briefly leaving the room to fetch drinks, and another unconscious on the bed beside him, Craig felt alone.
He thought back to three hours ago when he had to force himself not to sprint down the hospital corridors. How confusion momentarily washed over him as he passed Kyle and Stan who were equally looking pale, only to stop when he heard Kyle's rough voice calling his name. Craig remembered thinking the redhead had been crying, but that was just his guess. He recalled with detail as he cautiously walked back to his two classmates, despite wanting to carry on with his mission to find his friend, and only as he stopped beside them had he noticed who's room they were moping around outside of.
His thoughts were interrupted when Clyde's crutches knocked against the wall as he struggled to make his way over to where Craig was sitting. The plastic bag hooked through his arm was then dropped onto Craig's lap, filled with different types of drinks that most likely made the landing uncomfortable for Craig.
"No signs of waking up then?" Clyde mumbled as he casted a glance to the blonde. He hadn't properly looked at Tweek yet. Then again, he wasn't sure if he ever would. Not until he was better at least. He caught sight of Craig barely shaking his head, uninterested by the drinks he'd sent Clyde to get not long ago, which made the brunette believe he'd just wanted some time with Tweek alone.
"Token should be here after school, his parents wouldn't let him skip the day. They fear for their golden child's perfect attendance." Clyde continued but even still, Craig was hardly paying him any attention, and as he rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, Clyde watched, deciding his new task was to distract. "Coach says if my ankle heals up well he'll save me my place on the team. Man, if it doesn't I'm screwed. My grades are bad, and without the team, I'll never get into a good college. I'll be washing dishes with you at City Wok for a couple of bucks an hour, for the rest of my life. Oh mom would be proud."
"Your ankles going to heal."
"Yeah I know that, question is, will it heal in time? There isn't long left until we graduate, and at the rate we're going, Token is going to be the only one who gets to shake the hand."
Craig sighed, keeping his eyes on the unconscious blonde as he muttered, "Tweek will graduate too."
"Let's hope." Clyde folded his arms in his seat across from Craig's, giving him the perfect view of the scowl he received. "I'm just saying."
Silence followed up, neither of the friends speaking a word as they waited for some news, any news from the doctors. They waited for any signs of Tweek's parents showing up, but according to Clyde, Tweek's mom had left just before Craig had arrived, most likely to help her husband at the coffee shop. Craig figured they couldn't handle the sight of their son in the state he was in, he imagined their chests hurting so much that they needed some time away. The other reason made him too angry to consider.
Kyle swallowed thickly as he overheard the doctor speaking to the McCormick's. They were inside Kenny's room while he and Stan waited outside. Immediate family and all. They could hear Karan's quiet sobs through the closed door and they pictured her to be beside her brothers side, holding desperately onto his hand. The only words he could make out from the doctor were, 'we're doing all that we can for your son'. Something that could be interpreted into either good or bad. He prayed they meant good, but he'd seen Kenny's body earlier and he certainly wasn't thinking 'that looks good'.
Beside him, he could see Stan mentally beating himself up. All the cuts and swollen bruises weren't enough, he just had to torture himself some more. Kyle knew Stan blamed himself. He knew Stan wanted to trade places with their friend and the fact that he couldn't was killing him. He felt guilty, Kyle knew this by the way his friend avoided eye contact when the McCormick's had arrived last night. And even though they didn't blame him, Stan certainly did.
It was around this time, when Eric finally came strolling down the corridors, taking his time. When he'd heard the news, he'd figured this was another of Kenny's usual accidents which gained him a day off school, and for that he was happy. That was until he'd shoulder barged Kyle out of the way to peer through the door, his smile slowly morphing into a frown at what he saw, before the doctor was shooing him out and closing the door in his face.
He could still hear Kenny's monitor in his mind, the slow beep, and at that thought he was quick to turn on Stan, scowl in tact as he pointed an accusing finger at his so called friend. "What did you do, Stan? And why are you out here looking all pretty, while Kenny's in there. You used his body as a shield so that you'd survive, didn't you?"
"Leave him alone, Cartman. This isn't Stan's fault."
"Shall we ask Kenny that? Oh wait, we can't since he's practically dead." Eric patronised, still scowling as he watched Stan quickly standing from his seat only to hold back the tears as he rushed away out off sight.
"Nice going, jerk." Kyle fumed, shaking his head.
Stan's legs felt like jelly. They tingled painfully, so much that he had to stop. Only once he was some way away, out of sight from anyone, he roughly pushed his back against the wall, his head tilting back while his shaky hands pulled at the sides of his hair. There was too much pressure in his head, and all of the cuts he'd gained overnight stung as hot tears streamed down his face. With his legs giving out underneath him, he slowly slid his back down the wall, bringing his knees to his chest while his head rested on them. He sniffled in shame and all he could think about was how Eric was right. He killed Kenny.