Ayy this chapter was really fun to write. Just gonna let you know I love Craig going crazy, so there might be a lot of it. Also, I want to warn you in advance that I like writing very graphically (raw emotion, violence, sexual encounters etc). There won't be anything smutty in this chapter, but in the future... just a heads up lol
Enjoy
A monitor beeped. A fluorescent light flickered. Tweek's chest rose and fell.
Craig had gotten patched up himself already, and afterwards refused to recuperate in his bed. They reluctantly let him stay by Tweek's side as long as he promised not to cause a ruckus. He had been holding Tweek's limp hand in his for a time, but thought it best to leave it be as he kept on having to drop it whenever the nurse walked in.
They had cleaned him up quite a bit. The soot was washed away, and the worst of his cuts and burns were bandaged tightly. Still, there were a few small blisters that riddled his skin, and a bit of raspiness to his breathing. His hair looked like shit too as every spike of his hair was jagged and blackened from having been scorched in the fire, but Craig couldn't make any comment because his looked equally as shitty.
Flashes of several hours before plagued his mind, although he was in such a state of hysterics at the time and remembered blacking out, so the memories were rather fuzzy.
Craig was relieved, to say the least, as well as furious at himself for letting such a thing happen, and furious at Tweek for not following his directions. They could have been home free by now, living it up as the two most eligible, straight, bachelors… but now, they weren't just back to square one with everyone cooing delightedly at the sight of Craig keeping a vigil over his wounded lover, they were set back even further as now they were held accountable for arson.
They'd have to come up with a different plan later, but for now, Tweek needed his rest. He'd been through a lot and Craig didn't want to push him.
He knew. He knew deep down in his little Grinch heart that Tweek was carrying the torch for him, but he refused to acknowledge it. He had to. He just didn't like guys, he could never live it down knowing that he did something as faggy as feel flutters for another guy, hold hands… kiss...shit.
He already felt sick to his stomach.
Be right back. He mentally told the unconscious boy as he got up to go to the bathroom and splash some water on his face, he'd been up for over twenty-four hours, after all. Then he would go to see his family downstairs, he was sure they'd be around if Tweek's parents were.
After leaving the bathroom, fear struck deep into Craig's heart when he saw who was coming straight for him in the hallway. Mr. and Mrs. Tweak were like a couple of hysterical homing missiles, falling over each other as they flew through the hospital to get to their son. Craig was sure they'd have his head for putting their son in mortal danger. However, it was too late to turn tail and run away now. He'd been spotted and he couldn't flee.
"CRAIG!" Mrs. Tweak shouted, already choked up with tears. Craig braced himself for a slap to the face.
What he felt instead surprised him. Two pairs of flabby, adult arms grabbed hold of him and squeezed the life out of him. Maybe it was the fact that they were cutting off the blood flow to his brain, but he couldn't understand why they would want to hug him in this situation. Didn't they blame him for almost killing their baby? Why were they trying to console him?
"We came as fast as we could." Mr. Tweak stated. They both pulled away to look him in the eye, something he couldn't bear to do in return.
"How is he? Oh, you must be devastated! Oh, Craig!" Another constricting hug was issued. "What would we do if our baby boy was gone?! And he and his star-crossed lover ripped apart so soon?!" Mrs. Tweak cried and sniffled into a tissue.
Craig was absolutely speechless.
He could do naught but lift a shaky hand to direct them to the room Tweek was in when they asked.
He wandered through the hospital hallways and stairwells in a wide-eyed daze. Perhaps a lack of sleep, or the disorienting feeling of a long day that had yet to begin at 3 AM, or the sort of PTSD feeling that gripped him in wake of the fire and what had happened afterwards… perhaps all of these were contributing to his head swimming like moldy soup. He couldn't pick out any single, coherent thought in such a storm. He simply became a zombie, dragging his corpse around on shuffling feet, without a single thought or feeling.
Eventually, he arrived at what he realized had been his destination before his utter mental dissociation. The waiting room, where several people waited to be treated, sobbing families huddled together, and pregnant women were wheeled in and out, screaming in agony.
His eyes swiveled aimlessly around until he caught a combination of thinning orange hair and a blue sweater stretched over a big belly. His father. And on either side of him, his mother and sister. They rose from their seats when they saw him approaching.
"Craig!" Both women wrapped him in their arms as his father looked on, relieved.
"You're supposed to be in bed recovering, aren't you?" His mother said worriedly, sizing him up to see if he had any serious injuries, ready to give any doctor that hadn't done his job properly what for.
Craig wasn't sure what he said, to tell the truth, he might not have said anything at all. It was simply a series of murmurous gibberish and vague hand gestures that did not resonate with him nor his family.
They must have thought he had had a stroke of some sort and quickly grabbed him up, demanding he be put back in a recovery room that instant. And not just any recovery room. They would not stand for any other room besides the one that Tweek was in, and no other bed but the one that lay empty beside Tweek's.
Craig let it all happen. He was far too gone to hardly even notice, let alone fight it.
Tweek finally awoke when he heard the scuffling of Craig's family. It was a bit difficult to stay asleep while all of them argued back and forth without skipping a beat. However, he kept his eyes closed, he didn't want to have to face them if they knew he was awake and tried to talk to him.
"Now, son," Craig's father said as they were on their way out. "don't get too… frisky. This is a public place, you know." He choked on almost every word that came out of his mouth.
Tweek's face turned red. Oh God, why did you have to say something like that?!
He could imagine Craig had the same reaction. Strangely, though, he hadn't heard Craig say a single word this whole time. He was usually so quick to rebuttal and yet now, he was as quiet as a mouse. He wanted to turn and look at Craig to see what was wrong with him, but he waited until he heard the footsteps of his family a decent distance down the hallway.
Tweek turned on his side, ready to greet Craig with a smile as he felt he hadn't seen him in such a long time. His smile faded, however, when he noticed Craig looked almost like a corpse. His skin paler than usual, his eyes wide open and staring lifelessly at the ceiling, and his limbs stiff, yet positioned in unnatural ways, as if he were catatonic.
Why in the hell would Craig's father have to warn him about getting frisky? He was practically a lifeless statue!
Tweek sat up immediately, feeling a shooting pain where seared and tender skin stretched, but ignored it and asked in a concerned tone. "Craig, what's wrong? What's wrong?"
In a rather eerie way, Craig's body remained motionless, and his eyes alone flicked over to where Tweek sat, but they seemed to look right past him.
He didn't answer.
"Craig?" Tweek waited, but he was starting to get nervous.
Still no answer. Although now, Craig's face at least was colored with a bit of an expression. A subtly contorted one that looked as if he were about to cry.
Tweek's mouth fell open and his heart dropped. He had never seen Craig make any other face besides one of anger or one of laughter. He never cried. Never. At least, he had never let Tweek see the weaker side of him.
Tweek quickly pulled the IV out of his own arm and the blanket from his legs. His whole body ached and his legs wobbled like that of a baby deer when he tried to walk, but he couldn't leave Craig alone in this state.
"Craig," His voice was softer now as he approached the bedside.
His face seemed to contort even more. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips clenched together as he watched Tweek come closer. Tweek was taken aback when Craig's cold, emaciated hand reached out and lightly grasped the fabric of Tweek's hospital gown.
Craig started to sob.
Tweek felt the need to fly into a panic at this sudden display from his usually stoic friend, but he could do nothing except watch as Craig's shoulders shook and his nose turned red and runny.
"Tweek," Craig's hushed voice scratched out in between sniffles.
Tweek reached a nervous hand up to Craig's forehead and brushed the singed black hair, now sweaty and sticking to his skin, away from his face.
"Tweek, don't ever leave me."
A silence rung throughout Tweek's head and a shiver ran through him.
Did he just hear him right? Was this really Craig here beside him, crying and telling him not to leave?
He had to shake away these thoughts. Of course it was Craig and he couldn't waste time dwelling on his own feelings. He had to be there for Craig in this moment.
Tweek gripped the cold metal of the hospital bed rail and hoisted himself up, careful not to hurt Craig's arm that rested in a sling. Craig, still crying albeit calmer now, moved over to allow him room.
"It's ok, Craig, I'm here now." Tweek assured him, wrapping his arms around Craig's shaking body and burying his face into the warmth of his chest. "It's alright, Craig, I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. We're fine." He felt Craig tighten his grip around Tweek, as if he didn't trust him, as if he believed Tweek really would be snatched away from him somehow.
"I was so scared…"
"I know. I know."
"I was so… I thought you were dead. I thought… I killed you."
"No, Craig. It's not your fault. It was all my fault. I was being stupid and careless."
"Please, Tweek, don't ever leave me." Craig repeated as though he were in anguish.
It was difficult to see his face, as he was so close, but Tweek was touched by such an absolute and pure display of affection that resonated through Craig's actions, words, emotions, and above all, his touch. There was not one superficial thing about this that was happening between them. The people could talk all they wanted about what they believed their relationship to be, but this was real.
"I promise."
Although he felt guilty about smiling, Tweek couldn't stop himself. He felt the closest to calm he ever had for the longest time. He truly felt that in this moment, nothing could ever be so bad ever again.
"FUCK! TWEEK!?"
Craig, now drenched in sweat, stared at the open window where Tweek's spiky blond hair had disappeared from sight. He had thanked God that he himself was athletic enough to climb through it as he had done his part of the fire, but he had forgotten that Tweek was a total weakling, not even able to lift more than twenty pounds.
"TWEEK, I - I'M COMING IN AFTER YOU!" He searched frantically for another opening. He could have easily climbed through the window again to get to Tweek, but the problem was getting him out. He ran around the building searching every side for another door or a loading dock or something, but there was nothing. There was only one door at the front, and one at the back of the store. Both of which were burning hot from the flames behind them.
Craig felt his heart in his throat. He felt as though every thunderous pulse in his ears was the ominous tick of a clock, gauging how much time he had left to save Tweek. Tweek hadn't said a word or made a noise since he fell down and as Craig searched, his mind was flooded with images of him getting eaten up and turned to ash by the fire.
As hurriedly as he could, Craig once again found himself dousing his face as well as his body in snow. He felt stupid, but patted it all over him and rolled in it, not knowing how in the hell these tiny water droplets were doing to protect him from the fire, but he had to try. He jumped to his feet, and took a breath before running into the heavy, rusty back door of the Whole Foods. He threw his entire weight against it over and over and over until he was sure he felt his shoulder dislocate. He began to kick and pound at the handle to get it to fall out until it finally was fucked up enough to allow the door to be shoved open. Thankfully, it wasn't melted shut already.
He burst through the door, already screaming Tweek's name.
The second after entering the building, he felt as though he were being cooked alive in a giant stove. Tremendous heat and smoke blew unrelentingly into his face, making his eyes water and throat constrict. The walls were beginning to crumble on the inside, some beams from the ceiling and produce shelves were already piles of rubble on the floor.
"TWEEK? TWEEK?!" Craig knew exactly where he was, but as he fought his way through the hellish setting, he instinctively felt the need to call his name.
Finally, he spotted him. Lying crumpled on the floor in a pool of sweat and blood. The fact that the flames hadn't gotten to him yet was a bit of a comfort, but not enough for Craig to feel at ease in the slightest.
"Oh God. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god." Craig sprinted over and scooped Tweek up with a struggle. He cringed at the squishy feeling of the fluid filling the blisters on Tweek's skin, and the way Tweek's mouth hung slack as if he were already dead.
Craig ran as fast as he could back to the door, having to jump through part of the fire and burning off his eyebrows and a good portion of both of their hair and clothes.
Once outside, they were greeted by the flashing of blue and red lights from police cars, ambulances, and firetrucks. A crowd of onlookers and authority figures had gathered all around them, but Craig did not give a shit about them.
He ran a safe distance away from the building as the firemen ran up to it with their hoses, and he laid Tweek down in the snow.
"Oh my God, Tweek. Tweek please." He muttered desperately, immediately placing his hands on Tweek's chest and pumping as hard as he could. "Please don't be dead, Tweek. You can't be dead, Tweek. YOU CAN'T BE FUCKING DEAD, TWEEK!" His voice and movements became more frantic as seconds, seeming like hours, passed with no results.
Sweat, tears, maybe saliva too dripped down from him and created clean streaks as they slid through the soot on Tweek's face. He was becoming a madman again. Hysterical as the intrusive thought of Tweek dying at his hands became more and more realistic.
He saw the feet of the paramedics run up to the two of them. They tried to push him away and grab Tweek up, but Craig would not have it.
Craig shoved their grubby hands away with all his might. "DON'T TOUCH HIM! DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HIM! I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!" He felt as though his voice box would break in two, but he was incapable of stopping.
He could hear their voices, sounding far away, trying to calm him down and convince him to let them take care of Tweek. But he would not let himself hear it. Only he could touch Tweek. He had gotten him into this, Tweek was his responsibility, nobody else was allowed to touch a hair on his fucking boyfriend's head.
It seemed forever that they were grabbing for Tweek, but Craig held steadfast for as long as he could, throwing his body over Tweek's and probably looking like some rabid, territorial dog as he screamed and fought at the numerous adults that approached them.
Two policemen came running up to help, hands on their utility belts.
"LEAVE US ALONE! LEAVE US ALONE, YOU MOTHERF-"
A swift blow to the back of the head from a nightstick and Craig was out cold. His raging thoughts instantly put to rest as his body went limp and slumped over Tweek's.
Don't touch Tweek, he is mine.
