Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In just 24 hours, Kenny had done a lot of things.

He had woken up at 6 AM, called for his mother, who had helped him get dressed and moved him to his wheelchair. He had then rolled to the dining table, where his sister was waiting patiently for some bacon and eggs that his father had been cooking. After eating said breakfast, Kenny had brushed his teeth, grabbed his baseball cap, said goodbye to his parents, and strolled off to Park Department Field #2, which was only a block away.

He then saw his friends on his baseball team, smiled, and pushed his wheels a little faster to meet up with them. The Junior All-Stars, their team name that had been created a couple months ago with the drafting, were prepared to give it their all in this upcoming game. Kiesha gave him a high five, Ernie laughed and waved, and Achmed gave him a fist bump, as the two usually did.

By 10 AM, the game was ready to start, and Kenny wheeled his way over to the mound, pulling his glove on extra tight. Ricky waited nervously at the home plate, and Kenny grinned as he sent a fastball flying his way.

At around 12 PM, the game was over and, as usual, the All-Stars had won. Lots of claps on the back were exchanged, and no tension resided between the two teams. Lisa remarked that she had to go home for lunch, and most everyone left to do the same thing, except for Achmed and Kenny, who grinned at each other and headed for the latter’s house.

By the time 12:30 rolled around, the Kawaguchi’s barbeque was in full swing, with both the neighbors and the Khan family invited. In the backyard, Kenny was showing Achmed how to pitch, and while the younger boy couldn’t quite get the hang of it, the two of them laughed anyway. Amir watched in fascination while his older brother tried to pitch, and Vicki lay close by, playing with their dog Woofer. Finally, some hamburgers were announced to be done, and the two older siblings dashed excitedly to get some paper plates.

The two doing things together had been very common since the first draft, with several arranged playdates and even a few sleepovers, today being one of those lucky days. While school wasn’t quite in session yet, they both knew that they shared the same teacher, and so the year was bound to be fun even after the summer ended. As Achmed scarfed down his food and quickly ran over to the grill for seconds, Kenny continued munching on his burger.

This day, he thought to himself, watching the headphone-wearing boy pile some cheese onto his patty, is pretty great. It might be my most fun day ever. Especially during the sleepover… he grinned, noticing that Achmed had returned with a fresh burger.

“Hey, dude! My dad brought a couple cans of soda - do you want some?” He excitedly noted. “It’s cherry flavored, which is totally the best!” Achmed was met with an even bigger grin.

“Yeah, we both know cherry flavored soda is the best- wanna race to get ‘em?”

Achmed smirked. “You know it!”

On the count of three, both boys dashed across the yard once more and around the corner, before Kenny came to a stop just slightly faster than Achmed, making himself the winner. He celebrated by grabbing a soda and popping it open, offering a second to his friend, who accepted it gratefully. The younger of the two plopped down on the grass, exhausted from the quick sprint, while the other looked over the wheel of his wheelchair.

“Hey, do you wanna go inside for a sec? It’s kinda hot out here…” Kenny offered, sipping cooly on his soda. Achmed nodded, swiping his headphones from his head to his neck, and the two trudged inside, where they were met with the wonderful presence of the Kawaguchi’s air conditioning system.

Not wanting to move any further away from the delightful stream of cold air, the two boys pressed as close as they could, with the gentle hum of the machine only being interrupted by the occasional sip of soda or bite of a burger.

…

“Hey, uh…” Achmed fidgeted. “I kinda need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back, alright?” Kenny nodded, mostly focused on the bliss that came with the air, and Achmed stood up, working his way down the hall.

The bathroom, while less cool than directly next to the air conditioner, was still cold enough that Achmed could use the bathroom and wash his hands without sweat running down his back. Despite this, he did accidentally knock over some bottles when trying to shut off the water. Luckily, the caps did not fall off, and Achmed arranged them back on the counter in a similar enough pattern.

Achmed did not, however, read the labels on the bottles.

Wiping some sweat off his forehead, he turned off the light and returned to the AC.

…

At around 5:45 PM, the barbeque, and by extension dinner, had mostly concluded, with Amir and his parents returning home and wishing the two boys a fun sleepover. The neighbors were bidding their final goodbyes, and Kenny’s father was packaging the leftovers for another day.

Kenny and Achmed were toying around in the game room, playing a game of speed Twister.

“Right foot yellow!” Kenny giggled, watching the other twist around in what must have been a painful position, but it never showed on his face, looking up to greet the taller with a smile. 

“C’mon, man, give me a hard one!” Achmed taunted, and Kenny helplessly spun the wheel to declare any combination that could have stopped the younger boy.

“Okay, okay, Left hand red!”

“It’s like you’re not even trying!”

“Right hand green!”

“Oh, come on, making me cross over was dirty, dude-”

“Left hand yellow now!”

“Wait, I’ve got this-UMPH!”

The two broke out into proper laughter, seeing Achmed finally succumb to the wheel and fall to the ground.

“Hey, you can’t even play! Now I can’t get you back!” Achmed fake-whined, a smile still prevalent across his face.

Kenny turned away dramatically, sticking out his tongue. “No, but if I could play, I bet I’d still be way better than you.”

Achmed scoffed. “Puh-lease, dude, everyone knows that the only one better than me at Twister is Ernie, and that’s because he has long legs, which you do not .” He began folding up the mat. “Alright then, what should we play next?”

Both boys looked at the stack of board games, none of them catching their attention for more than a moment. Kenny sighed. “I wish we had some better games.”

Achmed’s eyes lit up. “Oh! Do you think your parents will let us throw baseballs again? It is getting kind-of late, but it’s only in your backyard!”

Kenny tilted his head mischievously. “If you can pass Dad without him seeing, I’ll let you toss the first ball.”

Achmed smirked. “Deal, dude!” and the two shook hands, before Kenny quickly turned his wheelchair to move through the hall.

When they got to the front door, Kenny held back from rolling onto the ramp, instead peeking around the frame to watch Achmed try to tiptoe around his dad. While his dad was still talking to the neighbors ( It’s been thirty minutes since the barbeque ended , noted Kenny exasperatedly), he was unfortunately alerted by the neighbors, who were informing him that a child was sneaking behind him. Kenny laughed silently from the door, and wheeled out to collect a sullen Achmed.

“Darn, I really thought I had him there for a second!” He mentioned, scuffing his shoes in defeat.

“Well,” Kenny snickered. “Looks like I get to throw the first ball.” He turned the corner of the house, and scooped up a stray baseball from the grass.

Achmed rolled his eyes, but backed up with a glove and another smile.

By 8 PM, the boys were exhausted once more, and moved to enter the house again. Achmed held the door open dramatically, as if Kenny were royalty, and the latter placed a hand on his own cheek in mock shock.

“For me ? You shouldn’t have.” He mimicked a high-pitched, girly voice, pushing himself inside. He could hear weak laughter behind him, something that probably would have been a lot louder if they hadn’t spent the last 20 minutes practicing fastballs on eachother.

“Boys?” Echoed a voice down the hall, before Kenny’s mother stepped out of her bedroom. “I know you two are having fun, but you should go to bed soon - It’s already eight!”

“Yes, Mom.” Kenny obeyed, wheeling off to his room with Achmed in pursuit. Achmed grabbed his sleepover back that contained his pajamas, and walked off to the bathroom to change. Meanwhile, Kenny’s mother came into his room to help him swap between clothes.

When Achmed exited the bathroom, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand, Kenny was waiting patiently outside, ready to brush his teeth and use the toilet. Once the door was shut behind him, he carefully loaded his toothbrush with toothpaste, and got to work.

Once his teeth had been brushed clean, he spit out the rest, washed his mouth, and grabbed for his medication. ( The one on the right , he reminded himself, unable to read the big words on the bottles.) Two pills and gulps of water later, Kenny was ready for beddy.

By the time he returned to his room, Achmed had already laid out his own sleeping bag, headphones set aside for the final time of the day. Using the railing on the wall, Kenny carefully navigated himself into his bed, while Achmed did his best to keep the wheelchair steady.

At 8:35, the lights were turned out, and the two boys turned to each other to whisper.

“Hey, what do we wanna do tomorrow?” Kenny questioned quietly.

“We can go over to my house and listen to my tapes!” Achmed clamored breathily. “And then, now that I’m a pitching pro- ” Kenny snickered. “-I can try to strike you out!”

The older yawned, pulling a blanket over his shoulder. “Yeah, sounds awesome.” He murmured, eyes slowing shutting involuntarily. He noticed, before they fully shut, that Achmed was experiencing the exact same thing, his guitar-themed pajamas becoming obscured by the shifting sleeping bag.

“ Sleepovers with you are awesome…” was the drowsy reply, and before either of them knew it, they were both asleep.

…

At some late hour in the night, Achmed heard a noise.

He wasn’t one to be scared of the dark, but a choppy, almost human sound made his skin crawl.

“...Kenny?” He whispered, slowly sitting up in his bag. “...Are you awake, K-man?”

He could vaguely see some movement coming from the bedsheets, movements that were, as a matter of fact, getting closer to him. He gulped, eyes darting quickly around the room. He was still in Kenny’s room, and the light-up clock on the wall read 11:56 PM.

In other words, really late for a late-night prank. Not like Kenny was one to pull that many pranks in the first place, but still.

“Kenny, this isn’t funny, dude.” He mumbled nervously, moving to grab his mini-flashlight from his bag.

An odd gurgling sound effect was all he heard in reply. He shivered and dug in his bag just a little faster.

Finally managing to remove the light from the bag, Achmed turned around just in time for something to land on his lap.

He screamed, scooting backward and turning on the light just to see that Kenny had landed on his lap, and अरे बाप रे his eyes were turned behind his head yet looking right at him and his mouth was babbling nonsense while spewing a foam and his arms were twitching violently and he wouldn’t stop making those horrifying noises of distress -

“KENNY! STOP!” He shouted, desperately trying to roll the older boy off of him without hurting him.

The bedroom door burst open, lights turning on as Kenny’s mom asked what was going on before also screaming, grabbing a phone on the wall and dialing 911. By then the other parent was in the room, moving for Achmed, picking him up and placing him away from the spasming boy. Their dog was barking, and all of a sudden Vicki was there, shouting what’s wrong with Kenny as she gripped her mother’s legs and suddenly, her eyes locked onto Achmed, who had been frozen in place ever since Kenny’s mom came in.

“You!” She cried, pointing a finger at Achmed. “Did you do this to my big brother?!”

Achmed snapped out of his trance, shook his arms and head no, I didn’t , tears welling up in his eyes. “I- he-”

“Achmed,” Kenny’s father interrupted, the room becoming suddenly quiet, save for Kenny’s writhing form. “I need you to tell me what happened quickly, alright? We have to tell the ambulance what’s going on.”

“Well, he-” The young boy gulped back tears to no avail. “I was sleeping and then I heard him bubbling at the mouth so I asked him if he was alright, and he started moving off of his bed and then he fell on me and I-” His words quickly devolved into gasps, and was unable to continue.

And how was he supposed to, when an ambulance showed up and Kenny had to be carried inside? Was he meant to say something else, do something different?

He watched with wide eyes as Kenny’s mom stepped inside the vehicle with a portable wheelchair, before the door closed and the truck left and despite that he could still hear Kenny’s pained gasps from moments ago echoing in his head-

His mind was too jumbled to form a single coherent thought and Kenny’s dad escorted him and Vicki back inside, various words bouncing around in his brain.

Sick , said one of them.

Dead , said another.

You. Kenny. Sleep. Night. Scream. Fault.

When he went back inside, turned out the lights and snuggled up in his sleeping bag all alone, was he meant to get a good night’s sleep?

And when Kenny’s alarm clock beeped at 6 AM, waking him from a sleep that he wasn’t in, how was he meant to feel?

Chapter Text

A seizure.

That’s what his mom had said it was, when he went home early the next morning.

“Why would he have a sei-zure? Is it because of his legs? He asked anxiously, headphones left unpacked in his bag.

His mom replied I don’t know.

His dad said There’s nothing you could have done - sometimes these things just happen.

His brother asked, eyes wide, Is Kenny dead?

No, no. His parents both assured them, though their expressions told Achmed that they, also, did not know.

Achmed hated it all.

He hated pretending like Kenny was going to be okay, he hated pretending as if he hadn’t heard Kenny’s (potentially last) noises of agony.

But most of all, he hated having to show up to baseball practice to explain why Kenny wouldn’t be here today.

I didn’t even say goodbye, he thought guiltily to himself.

Dragging his bat on the grass, Achmed’s blank expression drew a few stares, namely from Kiesha and Pablo.

“Hey little man, why so glum? Didn’t you have a party with your bestie yesterday?” Kiesha prompted, leaning heavily on the “little man” in question.

“¿No estás listo para jugar?” The even-littler man asked sympathetically, leaning on his bat. Achmed shook his head silently. Though he was wearing his headphones, nobody could hear the loud bangin’ beats that normally coursed through his ears.

“Heyy…” Mikey sniffled, looking around confusedly. “Where’s Kenny anyway? I thought you two had a sleepover?”

“Ooh, did it get called off, slick? That why your vibe’s such a bummer?” Tony slanted his head, popping his sucker back into his mouth. Achmed shook his head again, wordlessly picking up a baseball from the box and walking off towards the mound, where Kenny would normally sit.

“Ay, you don’t get to leave when I’m talkin’ to you!” Get back ‘ere” He shouted, eyebrows furrowing into a frown. “Ay, we’re a team! And Kenny’s our pitcher, not you!”

“Did you two fight, and now he’s not going to show up because he’s mad at you?” Lisa questioned, no tone change visible. 

Achmed gripped his hand into a fist. He really, really hoped that Kenny wasn’t mad at him for doing something. He just wanted Kenny to be okay - was there something different that he should have done?

“¿Vas a hablar con nosotros?” Pablo’s voice echoed over the mound. Achmed tried with all his soul to look at the baseball in his hand and just throw the darn thing to start practice already, but pitching was something that Kenny was teaching him, and Kenny wasn’t here-

Kiesha stepped up to him, face softer than before. “Hey, man, are you doin’ okay? You don’t have to try and pitch if Kenny’s not here, y’know Pete n’ Ernie have been workin’ on their throws…”

The small and bitter “Whatever.” that emerged from his lips was not what the team had been expecting at all.

“...Is there somethin’ you wanna talk about?” Mikey reached out, patting the boy in the back in an admittedly very poor but endearing way.

Achmed sucked a breath in through his teeth once he got a better glimpse at the baseball he was holding - this one was from a game where he had hit the ball so far, it became a neighborhood scavenger hunt to find it. Kenny and him had found it, and signed their names on it accordingly.

What a stupid, miserable coincidence.

He dropped the ball to the ground, sitting down in brewing resentment.

He wasn’t sure what he was becoming so angry about. Practice? His teammates?

Himself?

“Are you gonna-” Mikey followed up.

“Kenny’s not gonna come.” Achmed stated, looking down at his knees.

The rest of the team gathered round, either sitting beside him or standing behind him.

“And why’s that?” Ernie asked carefully, placing a hand on the shorter boy’s shoulder.

Oh, why was that what it took to make the dam break?

“Kenny m-might…” Tears were already threatening to spill as his lip trembled. The kids leaned forward in intrigue. “H-he might die and I was right there and did nothing…! ” His hands shook with… something. Frustration? Fear?

The whole team expressed various reactions. Shock, sorrow, outrage, confusion…

Nothing Achmed hadn’t already felt for the past 8 hours.

“Wh-what happened to him?” Tony’s jaw hung slack, sucker abandoned in his fingers.

“M-my mom said that he h-had a sei-zure, and his eyes were rolled behind his head and foam was coming out of his mouth-”

Mikey turned around nervously, gagging and threatening to throw up. Everyone else, however, came together to give Achmed a tight hug.

“H-hey, buddy, don’t worry.” Ernie started uncertainly. “My grandpa once had a seizure and he was A-OK in a few days! And Kenny’s really tough, he’s our best player so I’m sure he’ll be just fine tomorrow! I-I mean,” He searched for more words. “All my grandpa did was take the wrong medicine for him to have his seizure, so Kenny probably had something way more intense happen to him-”

“Medicine?” Achmed interrupted, turning to face the taller boy. Medicine, medicine , he thought to himself. Did Kenny do something with medicine? He scrunched his face up. When was the last time I saw medicine? 

The realization dawned upon him, and he felt a deep, seeded horror start clawing up into his chest.

“Achmed…? You’re kinda staring out into space, what’s happened?” Lisa asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“No, no…!” He hiccupped to himself, the tears starting to flow as he crumpled up on the ground, arms hugging himself tight.

“Achmed! Hey, listen to me, buddy! We’re all right here, Kenny’s gonna be fine.” Tony snapped his fingers, desperately trying to regain control of the situation. “Look at me, buddy, c’mon.”

“It’s-” He took a gulp of air, it immediately escaping him with a big heaving breath. “ I hurt Kenny. It- it was me.”

Pete laid on the ground beside him. “Uh, I don’t think so? I thought Kenny was-”

“IT WAS ME!” He suddenly yelled, voice breaking into sobs, his tears absorbed by the mound’s dirt. The baseball, forgotten, lay just a few feet away.

“I-I swapped some of his medicine by accident, I didn’t mean to but now he’s in the hospital-!” He couldn’t control himself anymore, freely sobbing in the center of the baseball field.

All the rest of the kids could do was offer a hug and stare at each other in despair when he finally accepted it. 

…

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

That was all Kenny heard. Day in, Day out.

He breathed in gently, unaware. Air entered his lungs.

He breathed out softly, unconsciously. His chest fell.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Not a single thought was able to cross his mind as he lay immobile in a bed. He didn’t know what bed it was, maybe it was his own.

Did time pass, or was he simply… Here?

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

He remained under the lull of sleep.

Chapter Text

The next day, the players were forced to cancel the upcoming ballgame for… obvious reasons.

Achmed didn’t know what to do with himself.

He didn’t mean to. He honest and truly didn’t mean to swap those bottles. He wished he never knocked them over at all.

He wished he never went to Kenny’s in the first place.

Despite this, his mother managed to find an activity for him to do: shopping.

“Achmed, come on, honey, we’re almost done. Just need to…” His mom listed in the supermarket. Achmed groaned miserably, eyes already raw from rubbing. Amir shuffled next to his older brother uncomfortably, never quite meeting his eyes.

“Here, when we pass by the plant section, let’s get some flowers for Kenny, shall we? I know his parents haven’t said anything about him waking up, but I bet they’d be a wonderful surprise for when he does, yes?”

Achmed sullenly and wordlessly followed his mother through the isles, hesitating when they got to the gardening section. Would Kenny like flowers?

He corrected himself. Would Kenny take flowers from him ? Did Kenny know about the mix-up that he caused ? 

Would Kenny still want to see him after this whole thing?

Regardless, he grabbed a small bouquet of daffodils, and walked quicker to catch up with his mom.

…

Many hours later, near 7 PM, Achmed’s mother stopped next to the hospital and parked the car. Amir had opted to stay home, promising Achmed that he wouldn’t break any of his tapes.

The two of them walked through the double doors, eying the mostly empty clinic. A lady at the front desk waved them over, and they approached her.

As his mother conversed with the lady, Achmed gripped the daffodils tightly and stared at the floor. What should he say? What should he do?

“-’s not awake, so only one person should go in at a time…”

Would Kenny even wake up? Would he ever wake up? If he woke up, would he hate him?

“-down in room 401, a nurse will go check on him and then come back for one of you…”

…Did he even want to show his face to the boy he might have killed?

“-lease wait here, we will be back momentarily.”

His mother guided him to the sterile, plastic seats that adorned the room, looking briefly at her son.

“Alright, honey, a nurse will come by to pick you up soon, okay?” Achmed nodded, and she turned her head back to her phone. “I’m going to wait here, if anything happens, give the nurse a shout, m’hm?”

Ten silent minutes passed, Achmed scuffing his shoes on the floor before his mother told him to stop. 

“Khan?” A voice echoed in the lobby, a nurse in scrubs peeking around a corner. His mother gestured with her head, guiding Achmed in the direction of the assistant. Said assistant smiled warmly.

“Alright, the room is a little bit of a walk, okay buddy?” Achmed nodded, and the two of them headed down the hall for the elevator. “Since Kenny isn’t awake, please shout if anything happens, and don’t touch the equipment, m’kay?”

The elevator doors opened, and they both walked inside. The nurse kept her gaze locked at the doors, while the boy subtly glanced up at her face. There were no smiles on either of them. The room felt suffocating.

Achmed wasn’t stupid. He knew that the nurse was trying to lighten things up because there simply wasn’t anything good or cool about his best friend being confined to a hospital. His thoughts seeded into bitter, resentful feelings, ones that decided to migrate to his gut and claim it as their own.

The elevator door opened. Both of them walked out. 

“Alright.” The nurse announced quietly. “I’ll be right outside, okay? Make sure to keep quiet otherwise - wouldn’t want to wake up the whole hospital, now, would we?”

And with that, Achmed was ushered into a room, the door shutting behind him.

It was cold, for starters.

The window curtains were closed, though he could see it was dark outside anyway. The lights were turned to the lowest setting, just barely illuminating the room. The gentle humming of an air conditioning unit was interrupted periodically by a beeping noise, one that seemed to come from near the bed. And speaking of the bed…

Achmed felt his gaze unwillingly turn to face the boy in the bed, and he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

Kenny… was not dead. The heart monitor placed near the bed told him that much.

But Kenny didn’t seem… Alive. At least, not to Achmed.

The Kenny he knew would tilt his head with a playful smirk, asking his friend what took you so long and how’s it going . He would have that confident glint in his eye, one that said he was ready to smack a ball into the outfield and dash to second. The Kenny he knew would chatter on about dogs and computers, would eat cheesecake, would do something other than lay motionless amidst the sheets.

But this Kenny seemed content to do just that.

He was almost beautiful, Achmed came to the silent realization, the way he was placed in the bed. Eyes closed gently, hands more still than he’d ever seen them, mouth covered by a breathing mask. His legs held no more weight than his head, and his head directly faced the window. He was a bit like (Achmed noted in embarrassment) one of the princesses that Kenny’s younger sister had gone on about one day.

And here stood Achmed, ruining the picture with his baggy clothes and bouquet that was barely holding itself together.

“I-” The boy started, voice hoarse and breaking immediately. He cleared his throat, shuffling in place and trying again.

“I’m sorry.”

There was no response, but this time Achmed wasn’t really expecting one.

“I’m sorry for accidentally switching your medicine, I didn’t mean to, dude, but if I didn’t then, well…” The rest went unsaid, and the bitterness that had been residing in his gut began melting away into something more miserable. 

“If I didn’t switch them, then, I wouldn’t be talking to you like this right now.”

The machine kept beeping slowly. Achmed kept going.

“I’m sorry for saying that you couldn’t play Twister, I bet you could still do really good even if you suddenly didn’t have a wheelchair.”

Something in his throat tightened. He swallowed and started talking again.

“I’m sorry I hit your wheelchair with my pitches during our practice the other day, I wasn’t trying to be mean, I’m just, y’know, not that good at pitching.” He looked away. “Ha, I bet you know that really well, huh?”

His eyes blurred. He took a deep breath to steady himself, the words starting to fall out of his mouth in a steady stream.

“I’m sorry I called you stupid when we argued a couple weeks ago. I’m sorry I hit a ball right to their center fielder when you were about to score. I’m sorry I patted your back really hard when we won a game. I’m sorry I didn’t play your favorite songs last time we were at my house.” Achmed choked, hoping the nurse didn’t hear and make him leave.

“I’m sorry for not saying goodnight at your sleepover.” He looked at Kenny again, his sweet, silent, unresponsive face sending a tear cascading to the floor below. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye when our sleepover-!” He wiped his eyes. It did nothing to stop the flow.

“I’m really sorry! I-!” In a bout of frustration (this time he knew it was about himself), Achmed flung the flowers onto the floor, stepping on them and kicking the bunch at the wall. They lay still, stems unbroken and petals intact, and Achmed practically threw himself into his friend’s lap, hand grabbing nonsensically at the sheets as he sobbed into his best friend’s arms.

Hiccuping in anger and misery, he demanded, “I want you back!”, like a selfish toddler who just had his favorite toy taken from him. Granted, Achmed would admit, Kenny was his favorite person, so why-oh-why did the universe decide that he was to be taken?

“I wanna throw baseballs with you again! I wanna-” He hiccuped. “I wanna listen to my tapes with you again! I wanna walk to the park with you again! It’s not fair !”

While his head lay against Kenny's chest, he could hear the faint but steady heartbeat that the machine echoed dutifully. The sheets (and part of Kenny’s shirt) had been stained with tears from his outburst. It was just another thing for the younger boy to feel guilty about. 

As if to play one last cruel trick on Achmed, the AC shut down, the only sounds remaining being his own labored breathing and Kenny’s singular indication that he was alive.

Achmed would have loved to stay there, curled up in his best friend’s arms, pretending to sleep like nothing was wrong and they were still having their sleepover. 

They would wake up to scrambled eggs and eat it together, and then get ready for baseball practice. Achmed would show off his newfound pitching knowledge, Kenny would smile and applaud and clap him on the back, and then the two would go over to the Khan’s house, where they would listen to Achmed’s tape deck together.

Instead, all Achmed had was a lousy, never ending sorrow, and a body in a bed.

Scratch that - a body that could breathe and mumble, as if that would be any better than how things currently were-

Hold on. 

Achmed’s head shot up and locked his eyes directly at his friend’s, watching in anticipation as he heard sounds other than a quiet breath or two. He saw through the breathing apparatus that Kenny’s mouth was moving, and suddenly a small sigh escaped the older of the two, and just like that-

Like angels wheeling open the gates of heaven, Kenny’s eyes slowly, slowly pulled themselves open, pupils unfocused but there .

“Kenny?” He couldn’t stop himself from whispering, God, he probably looked horrible, but it didn’t matter to him as he saw Kenny’s eyes dial in, focus, and turn to face his friend.

“Kenny! Oh-my-gosh, I-” Achmed threw his arms around Kenny’s torso again, wrapping him in a hug. “ I’m so sorry! ” There was a small noise of protest from the latter, and Achmed got the hint and let go.

“Sorry, sorry, I just-” He wiped his eyes again, face crinkling into a smile. “I’m just really glad you’re back, dude…! ”

Kenny tilted his head slightly, though from what, Achmed didn’t know. All he really cared about was the small smile visible beneath the mask.

Achmed watched as Kenny’s eyes traced the room, silently observing everything around him. His viewing stopped when his eyes fell on the flowers, strewn across the floor.

“Oh, uh-” The younger stuttered. He stooped to pick up one, looking away in embarrassment while he placed it on Kenny’s lap. “My mom helped me get these earlier today, they’re for you but, uh-” He cut himself off as Kenny fumbled with the stem gently. “You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”

There was a gentle shake of the head, and he motioned with his hands for Achmed to come closer. The boy obeyed, and Kenny raised his hand to grasp Achmed’s, fingers working their way into a clasp.

The two stared at each other, unable to look away. Achmed felt a heat rise to his face, noticing Kenny’s smile produce a red across his normally cool expression. He opened his mouth to say something-

“Hey, little buddy, your time is up, let’s get you back down to your mother-” The nurse entered the room and stopped abruptly when Achmed jumped back in surprise. “Kawaguchi’s awake?!”

She cleared her throat. “Well! I’d better go get the doctor, no? You two stay right there!” Exiting the room in a hurry, the nurse left the door ajar. Achmed and Kenny looked at each other again, neither of their expressions easy to read.

Achmed pulled at the neck of his shirt awkwardly. “Do, uh, you remember our sleepover?” There was a slow nodding of the head, followed by an obscured murmur and a cough.

He looked down in shame. “I’m sorry, Kenny.” 

Kenny’s ordinarily tame hair flopped messily over his eye. A sound posed as a question escaped his throat, before he coughed dryly.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa, dude! Don’t try to talk!” Achmed waved his hands nervously. “It’s probably super dry, y’know, I mean, you haven’t used it in a couple days-”

Kenny’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, looking around the room again. His face furrowed tightly in proper confusion now, tilting his head to face the footsteps coming from the hall.

“Do you-”

“Hello, Mr. Kawaguchi!” an important voice greeted. Achmed turned to see that the nurse had returned with the doctor.

“You must be tired. Mr. Khan, I’m sorry, but we need to bring you back to the main lobby with your mother.” The doctor motioned with his hand towards the door that they had just entered through, and the nurse beckoned him.

Achmed shuffled out of the room. “Oh, um, bye Kenny.”

Kenny waved mutely. The nurse escorted him back to the first floor, muttering “I told you to call me if something happened.”

His mother greeted him, and they walked outside to the car.

The car ride was silent.

The two of them arrived home, and Achmed brushed his teeth and went to bed.

As he laid on his mattress, room littered with various tapes and figures he’d not bothered to clean up, his face stayed still. A single tear dripped from his eyes and onto his bedsheet.

Though he’d cried on those sheets ever since the sleepover, these tears couldn’t be made more of relief.

Kenny would be okay.

Chapter Text

“Jeez, Axeman, watch the ball!”

Achmed held his breath as he picked up another baseball, aiming right for the gate on the fence. Rearing back, he threw as hard as he could.

Thwack!

“Hmm… not bad, might wanna try a little higher, though…”

Kenny sat beside the porch, watching Achmed practice his pitching. He had been unable to hit the center of the gate, repeatedly tapping the sides. 

The wheelchair bound boy sighed. “Wish I could show you. You’re getting pretty good.”

After being dismissed from the hospital just one extra day after Achmed’s visit, Kenny had been told to stay within sight of his parents for at least a week. Additionally, having not used his arms for three whole days, his arm strength was lacking, which was why he had stopped pitching after just a few throws.

Achmed squinted his eyes at the gate. “Dude, I just don’t get how you’re able to get around everywhere and then throw some pitches. If I had to walk on my hands and then play on the mound, I bet my arms would fall off!”

Kenny giggled. “It comes with practice.”

Silence.

Kenny’s smile faded. “Hey, y’know I don’t blame you for this, right?” He twiddled his thumbs, looking down at his feet. “You couldn’t have known which bottle was mine. I don’t even know which bottle is mine.” He joked.

Achmed shifted his stance slightly, looking back at the other boy over his shoulder. “Yeah, but…” He reared back for another pitch, focusing again. “You wouldn't have missed three whole days, and you wouldn't've…” He threw the ball. “...Almost broke your neck falling off your bed.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you were there to catch me.” Was the response. Achmed walked over to get the ball so Kenny wouldn’t see how red his face was.

“Okay,” He reasoned. “But you’d be able to show me how to pitch right now, and you’d be able to play in tomorrow’s game.” There was a creaking sound as Kenny rolled down the ramp on the porch.

“Hey, man, it’s fine. Even if I can’t play, I can watch you guys by the bleachers.” Kenny reassured. “I’ll be ready again in a couple days, Dad said. Plus, you can be the pitcher.”

“We’re down a person, so we had to get Kimmy from across the street to play.”

“Well…” Kenny looked around. “You win some, you lose some.”

Achmed sent him a look. Kenny shrugged.

Another pitch.

Thunk!

“Hey, that one was a little closer.” Kenny mentioned, a small amount of enthusiasm seeping into his voice. “Keep it up!”

Achmed sighed in frustration and dropped his glove, turning to face the other again. “You don’t have to keep pretending that this is okay, Kenny.”

He turned his head, confused. “I’m not pretending. I just thought-”

“Stop lying!”

The words bounced across Kenny’s mind, him struggling to understand exactly what he was lying about.

“Stop acting like things can just go back to normal , Kenny.” He spat, the other boy taken aback by the sudden bitterness in Achmed’s voice. 

“You almost died, in front of me, because of me. And you expect me to just move on? ” He cried, hands flinging up into the air. “That's so… So…” He twisted his fingers in frustration as he struggled to come up with the right word. “...Uncool, dude!”

Kenny wheeled closer, moving to rest his hand on Achmed’s shoulder. Achmed moved away.

“I was so scared . I thought that one day I might wake up, and find out that you were never going to play baseball with me again, and never going to listen to tapes with me again, and I would lose my best friend because of something I did. I-” He stopped, tears brimming in his eyes as he made eye contact with Kenny. “I thought I would be alone forever. I thought I killed you.”

“But you didn’t.” Kenny insisted, coming closer again, and this time Achmed didn’t walk away. “I’m still here, I can still listen to your tape deck and play baseball with you, just not for a couple days. And besides all that…” He adjusted his wheelchair to hold the other’s hand. “There’s no way you meant to hurt me.”

Achmed looked at his hand, intertwined with Kenny’s. With a small voice and a single tear that fell into the grass, he raised his head to meet the other’s eyes and said, “Why aren’t you mad?”

Kenny would be lying if he said that a little bit of his heart didn’t break when that was asked. Why oh why was Achmed so set on being punished for a mishap?

He scoffed, a smile reentering his face. “Why would I be mad about an accident? You’re my best friend, dude, isn’t that what we’re about?”

Seeing Achmed remain uncertain, Kenny let go of his hand and maneuvered his wheelchair so that the two were properly facing. Leaning on his armrest, he asked, “Do you remember the baseball game we had three weeks ago against the Wombats?” The other boy nodded sheepishly.

“We weren’t playing too good that game. How many players did I strike out?”

Achmed scrunched his face up in thought. “Wasn’t it only two?” He mentioned, before backtracking and shaking his head. “Sorry, not only. We still won because of your fielding-”

“No, no, that’s my point, Achmed. My entire job was making sure they didn’t hit the ball, and they did almost every time. We only won because of your game-saving home run in the fifth inning.” Kenny insisted, his hands fidgeting with one of the wheels. “But you don’t blame me for that, do you?”

“Of course not.” Came the immediate response. “We still won, and even if we didn’t, it was fun catching every ball that you threw my way.”

Kenny spread his hands, point proven. “Exactly.”

…

“Oh, wait , I kinda see what you’re saying…” Achmed realized, rubbing his hand on the back of his head, embarrassed. “But, y’know, I’m still sorry for what I did. And…” There was a hesitation, before he continued slowly. “I guess I’m kinda worried that, maybe I’ll do something like that again, but we’re not so lucky…?”

Kenny looked at him sympathetically, as once again the boy backtracked, stumbling over his words. “Which isn’t sayin’ like I’m gonna try and do that again, that’d be horrible, I just mean like-”

He stopped when the older of the two grasped his hand again, taking his attention and… maybe something else.

“Let’s take it slow here, okay?” Kenny smiled, and Achmed did his best to reciprocate, despite his freshly shed tears. He took a deep breath.

“Okay.”

“...For what it’s worth, if I accidentally killed you , I would also be really sad, and cry and stuff.”

Achmed elbowed him, and Kenny put his hands up defensively, laughing. 

“What? I’m not lying.” He exclaimed honestly. “If I’m bein’ real, this whole conversation makes me appreciate you more than anything, because at least I know that the person who could have killed me would feel sorry about it!”

“K-man, you-”

“Axeman, come on, don’t lie to me.” Kenny smiled mischievously, using the other’s nickname in return. “We enjoy each other’s company. If anybody was going to make me die, it wouldn’t be you, because we like each other too much.”

Achmed opened his mouth in protest, face flushing, before closing it without saying a word. He used one hand to poorly hide his face, looking away inconspicuously.

Now this was a response Kenny wasn’t expecting. Not like he wasn’t happy about it; in fact, this was great news.

This whole conversation, he noted, was really getting a lot off of both of their chests.

“Is there something you’re not telling me, dude?” He teased, letting his own hair flop down over his face when he tilted his head.

“I- no, it’s-” Achmed desperately tried to salvage the situation, cheeks practically matching the color of his headphones.

Kenny gasped dramatically, placing his hands on his cheeks in mock surprise. “Is Rockmed hiding something from me? Something…” He paused for added effect. “... important ?” There was a fake sniffle as he turned away. “And here I thought we were best friends. ”

“Well, it’s- I” the younger boy was tripping over his own words, twisting his fingers so hard Kenny was certain that they would fall off by the time he was done. Achmed slowly hunched his shoulder up to his neck, avoiding eye contact as he squeamishly asked, “...was actually hoping we could be more than that? ”

Kenny spun his wheelchair back around with a grin. “I thought you were never going to ask.”

This seemed to surprise Achmed, un-hunching as his eyes widened. “Wait, you mean-”

“I’ve meant everything that I’ve said this whole day, Achmed. When will you learn that I’m not a liar?”

They both looked at each other, Achmed watching in disbelief and Kenny observing his expression humorously.

“Y-you mean to tell me- since when, dude???” 

Now it was Kenny’s turn to become embarrassed, his own face turning a different shade. “I think… maybe after our second game together?”

The young rocker furrowed his brow in thought, remembering the game in question. “...The one against the Bombers?”

He nodded his head in confirmation. “I don’t know why, I think it was when you stepped up to bat for the first time that game and hit a home run with the very first pitch they threw.” Kenny looked away, remembering the finer details of the game. “And then you did the exact same thing the second time you came up to bat, and the third time you did the same thing but it was a grand slam…” He rambled on. “The other team couldn’t do anything about it!”

Achmed’s face flushed right back up with the praise. “You…Ah, that’s…” He attempted to connect the words in a coherent sentence. “But doesn’t Pablo do the same every game?”

Kenny gave him an amused look, half-lidding his eyes. “Look, do you want me to choose Pablo over you?” He ran a hand over one of his wheels. “Also, I’m pretty sure Pablo’s, like, four years younger than you. That’s just kinda weird.” There was a hesitation as something else came to mind. “Also, didn’t you ask me if I wanted to be with you?”

Achmed laughed, genuinely this time. “Sorry, I just…” He exhaled, head slumping backward. “A lot’s happened with us this week, dude.” He thought about Kenny’s response for a moment. “Wait, Pablo’s the best league player at five ? I thought he was at least a little older!”

They looked at each other, and giggled. Kenny grabbed Achmed’s hand and directed him towards the porch, so he walked over and sat down, the older wheeling beside him.

“Jeez, you’d think with how I’m supposed to be watched n’ all, my mom would’ve come out when you were yelling.” He remarked, taking a baseball out of his sports box and tossing it absentmindedly between his hands. “What do you think she’d tell your parents? Especially if she saw us… y’know…”

“ Stopppp .” Came the reply with a snicker, Achmed’s face growing red once again. “If Amir finds out, he’s never gonna leave me alone about it.”

“Ha, you know it’ll be the same with me and Vicki.” Kenny empathized. He threw a slowball at the gate, hitting it directly in the middle with a thump .

There was a light ahem from behind them, in the entryway to the door. Achmed turned around, startled, and Kenny made a quick twist with his wheelchair.

There Vicki stood, arms crossed and scowling at Achmed. “I’m right here, Kenny.”

“Vicki-! How long were you there?” He responded, pointing at her. Vicki rolled her eyes with excessive sass, straightening out her leotard.

“Only the whole time . Mom told me to watch you while she went to the grocery store.” She returned to glaring at Achmed. “I don’t get what you see in him. Don’t you remember how he got you sent to the hospital?”

“Oh, come on , Vicki! It wasn’t on purpose, we just spent the last ten minutes talking about that!” 

“No, you spent the last ten minutes sidling up to him and going all heart-eyes.” She retorted. Kenny’s eyes widened, and he turned away, embarrassment tinting his face red. “The ten minutes before that you were telling him that he wasn’t a bad person for almost killing you!”

“You’re the only person who thinks that Achmed’s a bad guy! Mom and Dad and his mom and dad and our whole baseball team still thinks that he’s awesome!”

Achmed smiled sheepishly at Vicki, who narrowed her eyes in return. “I’m gonna tell my whole baseball team what happened back here today. That means Amir will know.” She taunted. Achmed’s smile dropped.

“H-hey, give it a minute, Vicki! We only just talked about this, I-I mean, if you were here, then you heard how I still thought I was a bad guy, right?” He pleaded.

“Achmed, c’mon man, stop it, she’s just being annoying.” Kenny intervened. “Listen, Vicki, he’s right, we just talked about this. Can’t we at least wait a little bit, when I’m back on the team to talk about it myself?”

Vicki pretended to think, dramatically tapping her finger on her chin as if she were really pondering the question. Guess that kind of attitude just runs in the family , Achmed realized.

“Hmm, I might be more willing to think about it, if you give me your cheesecake at dinner tonight.” She grinned, tilted her head mischievously.

“Aw, c’mon, that’s supposed to be for me getting out of the hospital-”

“Oh well! I guess tomorrow, everyone will know that Kenny and Achmed were sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S- ”

“Okay! Okay, okay. You can have my slice of cheesecake, just, stop.” Kenny gave in, glumly extending his hand for a pinkie promise, which was gladly reciprocated. “Achmed looks like he’s going to melt into a puddle.”

“Deal~” She smiled, and twirled around to go back inside with all the grace of a ballerina and triple the attitude. Once she passed through the door frame, however, she turned back around and looked Achmed in the eyes. “Oh, and by the way, I don’t really think you’re that bad.” She giggled. “But it was worth it to get that slice of cheesecake…!” and skipped off to somewhere inside.

The cogs turned in Kenny’s head, before moving to wheel up the ramp, yelling “Hey, that’s not fair! I want my cheesecake back! You-! Agh!”

The other boy stared, dumbfounded, face still heavily flushed from the song Vicki was singing. Kenny reached the door, looking in dismay as he heard his sister slam her door shut. 

“Kenny, I, uh-”

“Darn! I can’t believe she did that, what an annoying little pipsqueak-”

“If you don’t mind, dude, um-”

“Oh, Achmed, what’s up?” Kenny finally reached the bottom of the ramp again, now eye to eye with the other boy, who was still sitting on the porch.

“I- I was just gonna say, that, it felt really nice to hold your hand?” He squeaked, nervously kicking his feet. “And, well, I was gonna ask if I could hold yours again?”

Kenny’s face morphed into a relieved smile, while Achmed’s transformed into a giddy one. He extended his hand. “Of course, dude. Or, I dunno. What are we supposed to call each other now if we’re, y’know…”

Achmed took his hand gratefully, savoring the feeling. “No, I still like dude. And you’ll still be K-man to me.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. ‘Cause I don’t know if this would’ve worked out if I couldn’t be called K-man anymore.” He kidded. Achmed placed another hand on top of the two.

“I just…” He took a deep breath, the exhale bringing a more soft, genuine smile. “It’s such a nice feeling to hold your hands when they don’t feel like they belong to a dead body.”

“Please don’t feel guilty over that.” The other insisted.

“I’ll try.” Came the response. “And if I do, then I’ll just remember how I feel right now, and I’ll tell myself that I probably would never have told you that I had a crush on you, and so we’d never hold hands like we are right now.” He raised a finger, imitating Dmitri. “And so I have learned: to get yourself a boyfriend, you must swap his medicine until he almost dies, and then he will be yours.”

Kenny snorted, before devolving into hard laughter, gripping Achmed’s hand as support. The other boy giggled as well, the two kids sitting beside a porch joking over the most ridiculous things.

“That’s such a terrible lesson to get from all of this; I hope nobody takes that as advice.” Kenny’s snickers mercilessly interrupting his sentence. “Actually, maybe you could tell that one to Ernie, and he’d learn how to tell funny jokes.”

Achmed hesitated. “But, then we’d have to tell them. Which, I mean, I think that’s fine, but I thought that you’re supposed to wait a bit before telling people that you’re dating…”

Kenny shrugged. “I dunno. I just didn’t want Vicki telling her team that we’d been, y’know…” Achmed grimaced and stuck out his tongue, while Kenny shuddered. “Really, I don’t know why people wait. Why do they do that? Is it just a weird adult thing?”

The tanned boy tilted his head in thought. “I guess I never really thought about it. So then…”

“Well, you can tell the team at tomorrow’s game, or we can wait until next week when I can play again. “ Kenny offered.

Achmed paused. “I, uh, well, hmmm… I…guess it’d be better to tell people tomorrow? So, y’know, Vicki doesn’t have time to go back on her promise…”

The two of them looked at each other, shrugging.

“Why not?” Said Kenny, adjusting their hands by interlocking his fingers with Achmed’s. He swore he could feel the other’s heartbeat flutter.

“Yeah.” Achmed agreed, smiling and dazed. “Why not?”

—

The next day’s game had just finished. The crowd cheered as the winning team, the Junior All-Stars, celebrated in the field.

Scanning the bleachers, Achmed finally located Kenny near the lower right. The boy in question was whooping wildly, waving his fist in glee. Achmed cheered right back, his own hand forming a rock’n’roll symbol. Kenny winked, and Achmed’s face appeared lightly dusted with pink as he waved his own hand excitedly. Hearing his name called by the rest of the team, he winked (poorly) back, and jogged over to the dugout.

Now, he reasoned with himself, was probably the best time to mention the news to his team. They deserved to know, and he was in a really good mood from winning.

As he got closer, he heard the team chattering excitedly. Kimmy had already left, saying she was too tired to talk with them anymore but had fun playing. Seeing him, Kiesha waved the boy over, a large grin on her face. “Hey, c’mon Axeman, come join in on the fun! Tony over here says his family’s throwin’ a barbeque down at their house, and said our team can join!”

“Yeah!” Ernie added, drinking from his water bottle. “What kind of food did you say was gonna be there again, Vec?”

Tony leaned against the dugout coolly, crossing his arms. “The whole shabang, Ernie. Hamburgers, hotdogs, heck, I think Angela convinced Ma to get us some soda! And you’ll never believe what kind…” 

The team leaned forward in anticipation. “Is it cherry?” Mikey asked hopefully, standing on his tiptoes to see over all of the taller kids.

“Bingo, Nugget.” Tony clapped slowly for the younger player. “I tell you, we’re gonna have a party tonight! How many of you plan on showin’? My dad needs the numbers.”

Most of the team immediately raised their hands, but Achmed notably kept his down.

“¿Ah qué? ¿No vienes?” Pablo asked, confused.

“Yeah, man, what’s up? Do you need to wait for your parents? My pops has a phone, he can call ‘em for ya.” Tony supplied.

“No, it’s, ah, nothing. I don’t have other plans, just…” Achmed paused. “I wanna see if someone else wants to go.” 

“Oh, what, Sticks? He can come, he’s fine. I’m sure he’ll have a blast.” The oldest reassured. Achmed shook his head.

“No, I wanna see if Kenny’s parents are gonna let him come.” was the answer. Kiesha laughed and slapped him on the back. 

“Of course his parents will let him go! They always do, you don’t need to worry.” She chortled. “Though it’s real nice of you, Axeman, always lookin’ out for your boyfriend.”

The whole group laughed, except for Lisa, who rolled her eyes, and Achmed, whose jaw dropped.

“How did you know ?” He blanched. The team went quiet, suddenly looking right at him. The boy felt his face heating up, he had been preparing himself nearly the whole game and it turned out they already knew?  

Kiesha cleared her throat in surprise, eyes widened. “I didn’t?” 

The team erupted into roars of laughter again, but this time everyone crowded around Achmed, giving him pats on the back and congratulations. He knew that his face was just as red as the previously-mentioned cherry soda, so he buried it in his hands. Ernie clapped as he hyuked behind the boy, eventually settling a hand on the shorter’s shoulder.

“Hey man, it’s okay! We’re all happy for you two! I mean, Kenny, right? What a score, huh?”

As if to add insult to injury, Kenny wheeled around the corner of the dugout. Initially, he appeared to be ready to compliment the team, but as he got closer and saw Achmed, who seemed to be properly humiliated, his happy smile transitioned to a confused one.

“Hey, Kenny, congratulations on getting a boy -friend!” Kiesha teased, before walking closer and raising her hand for a high-five. “Sorry ya couldn’t play, but Axeman over here said you’d be all ready to go by the next game?”

Kenny nodded, unsure why his crush looked so embarrassed - usually, that only happened when he was talking to him. “Did, ah, something happen back here while I was coming over?”

Tony paused his encouragement towards Achmed to face the newly arrived kid. “I tell ya, boss, Achmed over here mentions that he wants to wait for you before committin’ to my barbeque - by the way, you should totally come. He says, ‘I wanna wait for K-man.’ and Kiesha goes, ‘Aw, that’s real sweet of ya, waitin’ for your boyfriend!’ and Achmed-” The story was interrupted with a groan from said boy, who turned away. “Achmed over here, he goes, ‘How did you know?’”

Even Kenny had to laugh. “Not you too!” Achmed protested, uncovering his face to walk towards the other. 

“You have to admit that was a really funny way for them to find out.” Kenny smiled, readjusting the cap on his head. He held out his hand, and Achmed took it gratefully. “By the way, Tony, I’d be glad to go to your barbeque. The last one I went to was…” He glanced knowingly towards his boyfriend. “Less than great overall.” The boyfriend in question rolled his eyes, mouthing Eventually, this joke will be unfunny again to the other.

Tony held out a thumb. “I guarantee ya, K-man, this barbeque will be way better than whatever lousy one you held last.”

Kenny raised his eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

“Promise.”

Kenny turned to face Achmed again. “Well, it’s hard to beat a guarantee , wouldn’t you say?”

Achmed sighed, a smile finally reforming on his own face. “Yeah, although to be fair, nearly killing someone is a pretty low bar.”

Kenny stuck out his tongue. “If you’re gonna keep making jokes about me being in the hospital, I’m gonna keep making jokes about me being in the hospital. Can’t swing one way a moment and then swing the other way the next.”

Achmed nodded with a weary grin, leaning slightly on the wheelchair as the exhaustion from the game finally started to catch up with him. Pete looked at them, head tilted.

“...So does that mean you’re both comin’ to the barbeque?”

They both nodded in unison.

And when Kenny’s dad finally came by with the car to drive them to Tony’s house, Achmed looked over at Kenny, who was stationed right beside him.

Maybe it was just the fatigue talking, but by the time the car had arrived at the Delvecchio’s house, Achmed’s head was resting on Kenny's shoulder.

And Kenny had been leaning his head right back.

No matter how good or bad this barbeque was, the two of them knew it didn’t matter.

Because whatever happened, they would be at each other’s side.