A/N: Hello, people. This is my first published Crenny fic. I was kinda hesitant on posting it, because I didn't like the way I wrote Craig, but some awesome people read it for me and told me it was good sooo.. Yeah. R&R, please!

It was an ordinary morning. Craig was sitting in the living room of his family's home, flipping through the TV channels. It was still early, so Craig was surprised when he heard a knock on the door. After looking through the keyhole to make sure it wasn't someone he hated, he opened the door. Standing there was the younger sister of his boyfriend.

"Karen? What do you want?" He demanded.

"Um... Sorry, Craig, but..." Karen paused. Craig noticed how distressed she looked and felt somewhat bad for snapping at her.

"Just tell me." Craig said, more gently than before.

"Kenny died last night." Karen said quickly. "He was being an idiot and skateboarding on the streets and some idiot hit him."

The words hit Craig hard. He took a few deep breaths. "He'll... He'll come back, right?" He asked. "Like he always does?"

"Yeah... I hope so." Karen said. "Well... I better get home."

Craig watched as the girl left. Sure, Kenny had died a lot in the past. But the last time he died was months, maybe even years ago. Way before Craig had started going out with the blonde, and falling in love with him. He didn't know if, somehow, aging had caused Kenny's death to be permanent. He went back up to his bedroom, ignoring his awakening parents, and sat down on his bed, grabbing the framed photograph of him and Kenny off his dresser. He sat on his bed, staring at it blankly, wondering if he would ever see Kenny again.

Craig woke up hours later. He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep. When he awoke, he was still grasping the picture tightly. One look at the clock told him it was well past midnight. Craig sat up with a groan. His eyes were still rather heavy from held-back tears. He got out of bed, placing the picture back where it belonged.

'I gotta get out of here,' Craig thought to himself. He found his backpack and emptied it out before grabbing the picture, along with his fake ID, and placing both in the bag. He snuck out of his bedroom and then out the front door.

Craig headed to the closest liquor store, the one where the clerks didn't give two fucks about who they sold booze to. He bought a bottle of cheap white wine, quickly flashing the fake ID.

After stashing the wine in his bag, Craig went to the cemetary. He walked around aimlessly, looking for the fimiliar name. When he saw it, Craig almost felt like laughing at the hundreds of death dates on the tombstone.

"Hey, Ken." Craig said to the stone. He sat down next to it, and opened up the bottle. He took a couple of long gulps before placing the bottle next to him. He hated feeling so worthless, so helpless, so pathetic. Craig knew, with no doubt, that he loved Kenny and no one would ever make him feel the way Kenny did. Wanting to be void of all thought, Craig finished off about half the bottle of wine before passing out, drunk.

The next few days went pretty much the same for Craig: He first woke up with his head pounding, leaning against Kenny's tombstone. It was often right as the sun was rising. He would finish off the bottle of booze from the night before in order to try to postpone the hangover symptoms. He then stored the bottle in his backpack and trudged home, where he tried to get into bed as quietly as possible. His parents didn't seem to notice Craig's state, and if they did, they didn't care. It was one of the few times in his life Craig felt grateful for their ignorance. He would then try to get through his day showing as little emotion as possible. Once his family was asleep, Craig would sneak to the liquor store, buy some sort of cheap booze, and head back to Kenny's grave, where he would sit all night, talking to the tombstone and drinking until he passed out. He didn't cry, even when he was completely alone, even though he felt more broken each and every day.

On the fifth day of doing this, Craig didn't go home. He stayed at the cemetary, slumped down by Kenny's grave, for hours. There were tears running down his face, and he could barely breathe. Once or twice, he almost passed out, but wasn't lucky enough for these moments to stop his sobs. The sobs eventually turned to dry chokes, and then to silent whimpers.

He nearly jumped when he heard a pair of footsteps coming from behind him. Craig took a few deep breaths before turning around to see who it was. His heart nearly stopped at the sight of a familiar blonde.

"K-Kenny?" He choked out.

"Yep." Kenny said, a large grin on his face.

Craig threw himself at Kenny, a fresh stream of tears flowing down his face.

"You fucking idiot." Craig mumbled, holding onto Kenny as if for dear life. "You're such a goddamn asshole."

"I know, I know." Kenny said, still grinning.

"You goddamn idiot. Who the fuck-" Craig's words were cut off by Kenny's lips. The two stood there like that for a while. Craig pulled away first. "I love you so fucking much." He said.

"I love you, too." Kenny glanced around quickly before getting down on one knee.

"Kenny... What the fuck..." Craig mumbled.

Kenny grabbed Craig's hand. "Craig Tucker, you have made me the happiest person ever. I know I'm poor, and I'm an asshole, but... Will you marry me?"

Craig gasped a few times, trying not to start crying again. "Yes."