For all the Trees.

Oneshot.

A bloody Craig and a panicked Tweek.

Thought I'd upload an old story of mine. It's unedited, so... ...

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"C-Craig?"

Each of Tweek's golden strands of hair quivered visibly as he knelt, nervous and frantic, in front of Craig's weakened body, his coffee forgotten and spilt unceremoniously on the cement behind him from where he'd first seen the hatted boy. "GAH! – Craig! W-what happened?"

After attempting to let out a weary sigh, Craig had to stop and cringe painfully as his ribs protested. They felt as if they'd been kicked in – oh wait, they had. "I'm fine, I just…need a moment," he rasped, trying to sit up only to have his muscles scream at him too. This was almost too much pain for him to bear.

"Oh, Jesus! You're bl- you're bleeding!" Tweek cringed away from the blood running down Craig's forehead, his breathing accelerating greatly as he squeezed his eyes shut from the sight. He twitched violently before forcing himself to look again. "Christ! This is way too much pressure! I'm calling an ambulance!"

Sure enough, Craig watched with half-lidded eyes as Tweek pulled out his cell with trembling hands and punched in a few numbers, cursing conspiring cellphone companies when he had to erase them and type them in again, before finally putting it up to his ear. It briefly occurred to Craig to protest that he didn't need an ambulance, but he gave up and just watched the blonde and his large doe-eyes that gazed at him so worriedly.

"Urgh! Jesus, hello?" Tweek's free hand fumbled with his green sweater as he talked into the phone, his eyes now darting over all Craig's visible injuries. "I n-need an ambulance! My frie- ACK! - I mean, there's a boy here covered in blood! I-I don't know what happened, he can't talk much! But – Oh, Jesus, there's so much blood, you need to hurry! Please!"

If Craig's mind wasn't dimming and his muscles disobeying him so fucking much he would have rolled his eyes and commented at how there wasn't that much blood. But as it were, he could hardly even keep his eyes open. The rest of what Tweek said into the phone didn't compute to Craig, and he didn't even try to make sense of the muffled words because he just didn't care; the dark surrounding him was too comforting, too luring and intoxicating. He closed his eyes in relief and began to welcome it.

"CRAIG!"

Moaning, half in pain and half in annoyance, Craig cracked his eyes open to look up hazily at the jittery blonde leaning over him. "Sweet Jesus, Craig, you can't –ARGH – you can't go to sleep! The nurse on the phone said so!"

Fuck it, Craig was tired, so very tired, and he wanted to sleep! And anyway, no one tells Craig Tucker what to do. So after a moment of blank staring at Tweek, he closed his eyes again and started to drift….only to be shaken painfully back into focus by the blonde.

"Fuck." The dark-headed boy murmured sharply yet weakly.

"Please don't, Craig! Please!" Tweek's trembles were escalating, and he was so panicked that you could see the struggles to stop himself from crying out and ripping at his hair before rocking back in forth in the fetal position. "CHRIST! You'll DIE!" He screeched.

Irritation flooded Craig's mind as he was forced once again to open his heavy eyelids. If he wasn't so out of it, he was sure that he would be a lot angrier at the skinny boy for touching him, for yelling at him and throwing orders at him. But his anger just balanced on irritant for some reason or another.

"Oh God, Craig! I can't have someone -Urgh!- die in my arms! Jesus, I'll never be able to close my eyes again! And you'll- you'll be dead!" He rambled.

Stupid Tweek... Craig thought, mentally frowning and ignoring the boy's babbling. Wait, in your arms…? The older boy looked up at Tweek's face to realise that he'd moved and was now gripping Craig's upper body against his thin chest, and that he was being rocked as the boy was forced to curl in on himself in panic and fear. Not only that, but Tweek was crying. He could hear him murmuring.

"-And then I'll -OH JESUS- I'll die too! It would be just way too much pressure!" Tweek sobbed between hiccups and sniffs, his rainforest-green eyes wet and tear-rimmed. Distantly, Craig could feel the violent tremors and shudders the boy suffered.

"Jesus, Tweak…fine. Just shut up," Craig managed to get out, his head throbbing and his limbs aching all the more the longer he clung to the realness around him instead of just accepting the soothing, dark warmth.

The rocking stopped for a moment as Tweek absorbed the words wide-eyed before he started up again. "Christ, C-Craig, I'm sorry! I just can't h-handle this," he whined miserably, clenching his eyes shut to try and stifle the embarrassing tears. "Just- Jesus, just wait a little longer, the ambulance will be here any -Gah!- moment!"

The snow-covered ground under Craig suddenly became chillingly apparent to him, making his tired body shiver and his skin to sprout Goosebumps. Not caring what Tweek would think he forced his sore and bloody body to shift towards the other boy's warmth and his face to very uncharacteristically nuzzle Tweek's bottle-green sweater.

"Oh crap, you're cold aren't you- of course you are! St-stupid!" Tweek scolded himself before he mumbled and twitched as he tugged off his jacket with difficulty and draped it over Craig's numb body that'd been left in the blisteringly cold back-alley to freeze and bleed out.

After being covered in nothing but thin clothes in the snow for who-knows how long, the warmth from Tweek's jacket was such a relief that combined with the rocking, it almost made Craig slip into the depths of sleep. But Tweek wouldn't allow such a thing and continued talking to him, nudging him, and poking him to keep him awake.

Finally, the paramedics turned up with apologies of being late because they'd had trouble locating the back-street, and loaded Craig onto a hand-held stretcher. Craig wasn't heavy, nor was the ground back here easy to wheel through, so they'd opted for the old-fashioned way. It was a short trip to the ambulance and Craig could hear the men asking Tweek a barrage of questions that the boy struggled to answer.

There was a moment when Craig felt the unexplainable urge to tell the men to 'go screw themselves and leave Tweek alone, he didn't know', and he probably would have voiced this if he wasn't struggling to merely keep his eyes open. But when Craig was slid into the back of the ambulance and the paramedic sat next to him to tell him to stay awake, it was almost a joy for the seventeen year old to flip him the bird (a very weak one) and then close his eyes with a silent sigh.

But apparently Craig would have no relief because not five seconds later had they gotten Tweek in on his other side to plea with him once again to 'stay with him'.

"H-he's not -ACK!- paralysed is he?" Tweek almost shouted fearfully as he gripped a handful of his blonde hair and tugged on it, his left eye twitching. "OHJESUS! He won't be able to walk! He won't be able to run away from- from anything! CHRIST! Anything could get him!"

The paramedic watched Tweek warily before shaking his head. "No, he's not paralysed, he's just been badly beaten…with some obvious broken bones…chance of a concussion… Do you know who did this? If they hit his head particularly hard at all?"

Tweek shook his head frantically before his gaze snapped back down to Craig's bloody form again to look at him with such raw worry, fear and feeling that Craig found himself staring right back at him. Until, of course, Tweek realised what was happening and wrenched his gaze away with another shrill little cry of his.

But that question, "Do you know who did this?" Had Craig's mind reeling. What did happen?

:Flashback:

Craig's body skidded a couple of feet in the snow before harshly colliding with a streetlight. With a groan he hauled himself up and gave the bulky bouncer a pissed off look and the finger before shaking the whiteness from his clothes and general person. That fake id Cartman sold him was useless, and boy was that fatass going to regret thinking he could sell Craig Tucker a dud tomorrow.

Limping away from the bar, Craig righted himself as much as possible so he wasn't displaying the aching pain that he'd just gained in most of his right half. Damn that guy must really work out.

A vibrating Jean pocket notified the black-headed boy of an incoming call with a jolt, and he lazily scooped his cell out and hit the answer button, noticing that whoever was ringing had tried to do so before. "What?" He demanded in a monotone. He wasn't exactly in the mood for chitchat.

"Craig? Where the fuck are you?"

Craig rolled his eyes at his Father's cold tone. "And a good evening to you, too," he said nonchalantly as he fished out a slightly bent cigarette and patted down his pockets in search for his cheap lighter. "Obviously, I'm out."

"Craig you're seventeen, you still have to tell us where you go! Your mother has been worried sick about you all night!" Daddy Dearest cried, and Craig could easily imagine his face turning an angry red. "We had- no, HAVE no idea where you are! You're to come home right now, you hear me?"

"Well I don't have a hearing problem, if that's what you're insinuating," Craig said flatly as he lit his cigarette up and took a long draw from the stick. "And no I'm not coming home, I'm staying at Clyde's house tonight." As soon as he realises I'm not in the club any more and gets his ass out here to look for me… He thought darkly to himself.

There was a sound of frustration and anger on the other end of the phone, but Thomas Tucker just sighed and said something about 'you better be home tomorrow for lunch' before Craig abruptly hung up.

Hey, Craig was really tipsy and he'd just been thrown out onto his butt in the snow! You wouldn't be in a very good mood either.

With a rather hazy mind, Craig just kept walking slowly, hoping to clear his mind and his temper as he walked in the cool evening air. The chullo-wearing boy wasn't exactly thinking straight when he gave a bunch of guys who'd wolf-whistled at him laughingly from across the street a scowl and the finger. If he'd been in his right state of mind he would've just ignored them. But…as it were, he wasn't.

"What was that, Fag?" The whistler spoke up, pushing himself away from the wall he'd been leaning against and starting to look a little annoyed. "Did you say sumthin?"

"No," Craig immediately spat as he continued his walk. "I didn't, you deaf-fuck, I did this." And he flipped him the bird again fearlessly.

That did it. The next thing Craig knew he was being dragged into a back-alley and even though his mind was a little hazy on the whole matter he remembered thinking how bright the stars were that night. He didn't remember any faces or names, but he remembered certain kicks and punches that had him doubling over and falling into the snow for the second time that night. He also remembered the fact that he'd taken down three of the guys by the time they'd gotten Craig down, and that they'd almost seemed intent on killing him.

Maybe they thought they HAD killed him, because they left him in a pile of blood, bruises and broken bones. Spitting on him and muttering darkly as they went. Or maybe they'd left him there to slowly die alone.

Then, there was cold. Cold and pain. Cold and pain. Cold and pain…and nothing else, for such a long, agonising amount of time…And just when he thought he was about to spill over the edge of this overflowing bowl of cold and pain, he heard a voice…such a warm voice…and he saw a warm face. And some of the cold and pain went away.

…"C-Craig?"

:EndFlashBack:

Craig hated the hospital. Four painfully white walls with three other crook humans who fussed and groaned and snored. God, what a fucking hellhole. Craig wasn't sure whether being alive was worth it.

Of course, his parents came. His mother crying in guilt and despair whilst his father lectured him about what Craig was sure was everything and anything the man could come up with. His sister just cried and hugged him.

Another guilty visitor was Clyde, who'd left for home that night thinking Craig had gone home himself. Craig assured him that it was over and done with and that he didn't hold grudges, but Clyde either wasn't listening or just didn't care; he was still sorry. Token also visited (with Clyde) and expressed his guilt. And although he wasn't harsh or angry with him, Craig didn't feel like saying 'it's okay' either.

The only visitor Craig didn't want to throw out the window himself was his last for that day. Tweek. He came with a bag of Craig's favourite sweets and a nervous face. He didn't say much, for once, and appeared to have been trying very hard to force himself to keep his mouth firmly shut when he wasn't being spoken to.

Craig wondered how he knew what kind of candy he liked.

"I never thought I'd say -GAH!- this, but I'm actually glad we ran out o-of coffee the other night." Tweek murmured with a sheepish smile as he sat beside the hospital bed cradling a Styrofoam cup of what could contain nothing else but coffee. "Otherwise I wouldn't have gone out for some- some more and stopped at Harbucks on my way."

Craig didn't know how he remembered it, but he distinctly remembered Tweek dropping a thermos. "But you didn't have Harbucks, or any supermarket coffee for that matter," he pointed out. "You had a thermos."

The blonde nodded. "I hadn't made it to the supermarket yet and the H-Harbucks' staff know me by face, I'm one of their b-best customers, so they'll just fill up my thermos for me if I ask," he explained shakily, taking a sip from his cup. "Y-…you were, oh Jesus, you were in the alley next to Harbucks…"

"…I must have scared ya, looking like I did," Craig commented idly, trying to imagine Tweek's face the very first moment the boy had seen him crumpled in the snow. Picturing him with a horrified expression somehow pleased him. Which was just wrong. "The nurse said I was pretty messed up. Though I doubt I look much better now, considering it was only the other day."

Tweek shook his frazzled, blonde-mopped head almost frantically. "You were covered in so mUCH BLOOD!" He clamped a trembling hand over his mouth to stifle his voice which had been steadily rising in volume and looked up at Craig sheepishly.

Managing a little smile despite his predicament and his company, Craig shrugged and otherwise ignored the other's loud outburst. He was about to make another comment when there was a bang and the curtain separating Craig and the patient beside him was yanked open harshly.

"Stop making such a noise! This is a hospital, not a playground!" An overweight, snobbish-looking man who's snoring Craig had been putting up with, yelled arrogantly at the two boys, making Tweek cry out again, this time in fear, before taking up some violent shaking. "There are people in here trying to get well! They don't want to listen to you and your friend yelling and screeching!"

"Well that was rude. You, sir," Craig began, cutting the man off mid-rant, "Make more noise at night than a aeroplane taking off, so I suggest you shut-the-hell-up and leave my friend alone, who might I add cannot help the noise he makes, before I do it for you." He shot the man a pointed, pissed-off look before grabbing the curtain and yanking it back in place to block out the man's shocked face. But of course not before showing him his favourite finger.

Frazzled and blinking rapidly, Tweek looked at Craig with a face full of emotions, some of which Craig couldn't and didn't even care to identify. But there was definitely awe and fear there, mashed up with everything else. "C-Craig…?"

"Yeah?" Craig huffed, settling back down in his bed with a sigh and a wince of pain.

"Sorry a-about that…I didn't mean for -urgh!- for you to have to-…that is I shouldn't have-" Tweek tried for an apology, but wasn't having much success, which made him fidget and shake all the more until he just clamped his mouth shut. Apparently he was afraid of having another outburst.

After just sitting there and staring at Tweek silently with dull eyes as the boy ranted, Craig shrugged and waved him off. "You should go home now, Tweek," he said bluntly, without even looking at the boy.

Tweek's gaze snapped up from the ground to stare at Craig for a moment with slightly wider eyes before he nodded obediently and quickly grabbed his empty cup and his bag. "S-sorry. I'll see you -Ngh!- …at school then."

"You're not coming to visit me again?" Craig asked in a monotone, arching a brow up at the now-standing blonde.

"ACK! Y-you want me to visit you again?" Tweek yelped, a free hand shooting up to tug at his hair ferociously. "Oh, Jesus, why?"

Smiling again, Craig shrugged. "You're my friend, not to mention you probably saved my worthless life, so I owe you one."

"Wh-what? Worthless? O-owe me?" His trembling hands dropped his Styrofoam cup and he quickly bent to pick it back up again. "JESUS you're not going to bash me up too are you? I-I-but-I-I-!"

"Of course not, Tweek…" Craig frowned, sitting up a little straighter. "I mean, I'm indebted to you, ya know? I'm not going to hurt you…okay?" The fact that Tweek was so quick to jump to the conclusion Craig wanted to hurt him surprised the dark-headed boy. Made him wonder too, how often that conclusion that the correct one when it came to the twitchy boy.

The cup, now all squished and collapsed inside of itself from Tweek's relentless little hands, was dropped into the trash. "O-okay, Craig, if you say -Gah- say so…" he murmured humbly, stealing little glances at the older boy every now and then.

"I do," Craig confirmed. "Now scat and go get some more coffee for yourself before you explode."

"OH, JESUS CHRIST!"

Sometimes you can't see the forest for all the trees.