A/N Only one more chap after this one~!

Thanks to RavenChild2

Disclaimer I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc.

FOURTEEN

I get up early the next morning to shower, leaving Tweek sleeping soundly under the heavy blanket. It's seven in the morning, and considering how early we went to bed last night, that means that we got something around eleven hours of sleep. I feel content, satisfied, and on top of things, like I actually know what we're doing for once. Which I do, and that's amazing. The cabin's layout is already familiar, and, somehow, it's started to feel like home after less than a day. Even the woods, lit pale green from the morning light and crested with dew, seem almost welcoming.

Showering, of course, is also a welcome experience. It's not the best-furbished of bathrooms that I find myself in, but at least there's hot water, and that's really all I could ask for. It's always helped me think, bathing—maybe it's that way for everyone, but something about the strength of the warm jets arching down my shoulders and back is calming, and seems to ease along the cramped passages of my brain.

I stay in there for a full thirty minutes, drenching myself in burning wetness, until the whole room is clouded with steam and the last reserves of heat are beginning to fade away. Then, stepping out reluctantly and shivering in the immediate rush of cold air, I pull my jeans and Craig's T-shirt back on—they're both still relatively clean—and head down to the kitchen, where I find a toaster and a bit of stale bread. That's how Tweek discovers me a quarter hour later, gnawing on butter-less toast with my hair fluffed up in its half-dried state. He seems to have borrowed clothes from what I guess to be one of Chuck's younger cousins—in any case, the red plaid top and black skinny jeans fit him rather well, though the shirt is a bit loose around the chest and shoulders.

He blinks sleepily, and his gaze lowers down to the slice of mildly burnt bread in my hand. "Food?" he mumbles.

I laugh lightly. "If it could be called that. Bread's in the cupboard over there, go ahead and have a bit. Though I think it might be even better if you don't incinerate it first."

He nods vaguely and trots over to the cabinet, his bare feet brushing against the floor as he pulls out a slice of bread and sits himself down next to me on the table, shoving a bite into his mouth hungrily. "Any plans for today?" he asks through a messy mouthful, dragging his sleeve over his mouth with a slight cough.

I shrug, polishing off my own bit of toast and leaning back creakily in my chair. "Just hang around, I suppose. I might take the car to town and try to grab some food."

"I can come with," he offers quickly. "I… well… I'd rather not be left alone, if it's all the same to you…"

"'Course," I promise immediately. "No problem. You might want to stay in the back seat, though—one teenager, people will let slide by their radar, but both of us… not so much."

He nods silently and continues to nibble, gazing thoughtfully at the wall.

"Other than that…" I shrug. "I don't know, really. We could scout around the woods a bit… nothing big, just close around the cabin. Search for bears?"

"Not the stupid bears again," he whines, looking a bit nervously out the window. "I hate bears… they're so big and ugly…"

"Calm down," I sigh playfully. "The bears won't be able to hurt you, okay? We won't go anywhere near deep enough to meet any kind of animal. I was just teasing."

"Yeah…"

I shrug slightly. "Anyways. How was last night? Sleep okay after our little double-feature?"

"Really well." He nods, offering one of those little smiles that seem to be growing more and more frequent. "I… I usually am really restless after I watch a scary movie like that, but… I felt… I felt safe." He ducks his head slightly, cheeks flaming.

"…I'm glad," I respond softly. "That's what I want for you, to feel safe."

"You're going a pretty good job of it." He swallows a final bite and stands up, rolling his shoulders and speaking louder than his previous hushed tone. "Anyways, are we gonna go outside? If we're going to go into the stupid forest, I want to get it done before it gets… dark or anything."

"'Kay," I agree, rising as well. "Shall we, then? Then we can head into whatever town is nearest when we get bored, sound good?"

"Sure." He follows me out the front door. It's a cool morning, and I shiver lightly underneath my thin T-shirt, but the sunlight is a perfect light touch of warmth. We pace along the woodchips, and I'm the first to enter the forest itself, letting out a low sigh as the glowing canopy forms over my head. Everything is lit almost magically over my head, like I'm in some sort of fairyland. It's nice, peaceful. A bird's call cuts through the still air, and it somehow reminds me of the last time I was in a forest in the early morning—after the night with Craig.

I give my head a quick, firm shake, trying to clear those thoughts from my mind. I don't want to cloud my happiness with thoughts of Craig right now. This, right here, is perfect, and disrupting it is the last thing that I want to do.

"It's smells nice, doesn't it?" I murmur.

"Yeah… like pine… it's pretty," he agrees, his voice small in the wide space of the forest. I lean against a tree trunk, fingering the rough bark and trying to shove down images of Craig, of him pinning me roughly against a similar tree and kissing me, hard…

I jerk my head again as though I can knock the thoughts askew.

"Are you… okay?" Tweek asks a bit nervously from behind me.

"Yeah, fine, I'm fine," I promise quickly, straightening up again. "Just… got a bit of a twitch. It's nothing big, don't worry." I glance over my shoulder, tossing him a casual grin that he seems a bit suspicious of.

"O-okay… if you say so…"

"I do say so." I step over and bend down, kissing him lightly on the forehead. "Bit shivery, that's all. It is rather cold out here."

"Oh—um, w-well, you can take my shirt… if you want." He offers one arm, the red plaid sleeve long enough to hang down over his fingertips, like oversized pajamas.

"No, it's alright," I laugh. "You have absolutely no muscle on me, so I'm sure you need that a lot more than I do. I'll be fine, promise. Now come on, let's keep going."

"Okay, but… not too deep, right?" he asks a bit nervously as we continue in. Amazingly, the branches laced above us are so thick that they've begun to block out the fresh sunlight, leaving pools of darkness interspersed amongst them. "I mean… I don't want to… you know, get lost or anything."

"How could we get lost when we're just going in one direction?" I snort, but my face grows serious at his slightly scandalized expression.

"Okay, calm down," I mutter. "We can go back, if you want…"

"N-no! I don't want to rush you! It's just… not too much farther?"

"Not too much farther," I promise with a slight sigh. To be honest, I'm enjoying this little trek of ours. It's remarkably relaxing to recede so deep into the woods that nothing else reaches us, not even light. It feels safe, though perhaps not quite so safe as the cabin. A bit more adventurous than that, a bit more daring, a bit more wild. I take in lungful after lungful of clear morning air, letting it flow through my mind and chill my scalp where my hair is still wet.

"Let's not go any farther," Tweek begs. I turn around, look at him in slight surprise. He's leaning against a tree, staring into the now-dark air. A small cloud of fog escapes his mouth as he exhales heavily. "This is deep enough… I don't want it go get too dark…"

"You really are a bit jumpy, aren't you?" I tease gently, closing the distance between us with a few quick steps. "Nothing in here's gonna hurt you, Tweek."

"I know, but—I just don't want to. Can you just respect my wishes, please?"

"Yeah…" I nod, slowly. "Okay, okay. Do you want to head back out, then?"

He shrugs widely, still not meeting my eyes. "Well, if you wanted to come in here for any particular reason other than to just… wander… now would be the time to tell me."

The truth is that I really don't have another reason. The woods looked nice, so I decided we ought to go in. It's a small thing, not necessarily one that will have a real impact on us, but I'm happy to be here—not necessarily to do anything, just to stand in here and listen to the whispery breeze and breathe in the piney scent. Tweek's approach seems impatient, even irritable in comparison.

"Just sit back," I offer. "Maybe we did come in here to wander. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Enjoy the peace… it's rare enough as it is."

"S'pose so," he agrees reluctantly, folding his arms and giving a delicate shiver.

"Too cold?"

"A bit."

I sidle up next to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and pulling him closer to myself. His tiny, shaking frame is indeed ice-cold, even under his heavy plaid shirt. "You need to put on some muscle," I tease. "Otherwise you'll freeze to death before we spend a week here."

"I'm tougher than I look," he objects, but doesn't sound really offended. On the contrary, he rests his head on my shoulder. I lean against the same wide tree trunk as him, squeezing his upper arm, and we both tilt our heads upward, gazing into the tiny fragments of azure sky visible between the complex lattice of thick and thin tree branches.

"That's for sure," I agree. "You've definitely proved that to me."

"I wish Craig could have realized that," he murmurs. "That was beyond him, though… he always called me weak…"

"Let's not talk about Craig right now." I pull away from the tree, and he yelps to regain his balance as I turn around and face him fully. My mouth is moving, the words are coming out without my thinking, and it takes me several moments to process that, out of nowhere, I feel angry. Angry that Tweek should bring Craig up now, of all times, just now, just when we were being happy. Yes, we're both thinking about him constantly, but that doesn't mean we have to mention it. I take a deep breath, try to keep my words reasonable. "Alright? Let's just keep it to the two of us right now."

His eyes slowly search mine, a slow, almost wondering look. "Why?" he asks plainly, bluntly. "Why the hell shouldn't we talk about him? It's… I like pretending as much as you do, but we both know the truth. We both know that he's never going to stop searching for us unless he's caught or… or killed somehow…" A rough swallow. "We both know that we're both in love with him, Kenny. Don't deny it. So why shouldn't we? Why the hell shouldn't we bring him up when he's the most important thing in the world to both of us?"

I open my mouth for a snarled retort, then find that my voice doesn't want to come up. My throat seems to have tightened. "Because…" When the words finally come out, they're tiny, weak, pathetic. "Is he? Is he really… the most important thing?"

"If not for Craig, we'd both be home right now." He watches me cautiously, his eyes shadowed. "You know that."

"I don't want to know that."

"Do you have some sort of problem with the truth?" he demands. His eyes are brighter than usual, teeth clenched, hands stiff at his sides. I don't want this to happen, don't want us to start fighting again, not when everything has been going so perfectly. But I can't back down from this—or, even if I wanted to, my temper wouldn't let me.

"Why… why can't I just spend time with you… why is that so hard?" The frustration building up inside of me is cumulative, no doubt. There's no other explanation for why it would be so fiery. His gaze changes from defensive to alarmed in a split second.

"Kenny… I don't mean—we can still be happy, okay? I just… I don't want to act like… to act like he doesn't exist when he does. I don't want to live in some fake world! I want… I want to know that we can be happy even when he does exist to us… that his presence doesn't make any difference! I want us to be together… no matter what!"

"But we won't be!" I yell back. "You've made that all too clear, haven't you? Saying he's the most important thing in the world to you, constantly going on about how the two of you had so much, about how I'd never have that much… not with you or him. Because that's fucking who I am, isn't it? I'm the one, the goddamn one who's always going to be left out in the dark, who you can both play with—even you. Tweek Tweak! No one likes you. None of the girls, none of the boys. It's only ever been Craig, and nobody understood why he, who could have anyone, went for you. I didn't understand that! I didn't realize it at the time, but maybe… I think I might have… been jealous. Me, Kenny McCormick the fucking man whore, jealous. Jealous of you."

"Kenny—"

"But it couldn't stop there, oh, no. It had to keep going. It had to escalate. As if it wasn't humiliating enough to have a skinny little bitch be where I wanted to… no… it got worse. Because do you realize where I am at this point? Do you realize?"

"Kenny!" he squeaks, "you're not making any sense! Please, calm down, I'll listen…"

"You'll listen," I repeat, my voice suddenly quiet. "Of course you will. Because you're like that. You have so many fucking problems, you're so fucked up, but you'll listen to me, to me, who's here out of choice, who's happy when you aren't. It's things like that, Tweek. Little things like that that make you so much better than me, better than Craig, better than anyone I fucking know. You'll listen. And… and now I…" My voice is rising again. "And that's how I got trapped in this goddamned awful situation! Because of you, because of you being so damn perfect… I couldn't stop at wanting to replace Craig for you. I couldn't just like Craig. Now I'm stuck in a position that's so humiliating, so fucking mocking because it's so pathetic… somehow… somehow I'm not jealous of you. Somehow I'm jealous of him. Because as amazing and seductive and gorgeous as Craig is… he's not the one I've fallen in love with, Tweek. It's not him!" My voice scares off a nearby flock of birds, which depart in a shuffling cacophony. "It's never been him, not really. Of course I'd fucking crush on him, who wouldn't? But I was never in love with Craig Tucker. It took time to realize… but now I'm positive. I'm absolutely fucking positive. It's you."

I drag a deep breath in through my lips, staring at him straight in the eyes, done with everything else, done with beating around the bush and avoiding his age like a fucking pussy schoolgirl. "I'd say it's 'always been you' or some clichéd bullshit like that, but it wouldn't be true. It hasn't always been you. You were an insignificant person at school who I didn't give a single fuck about. I didn't think twice when I found out that you were the person I would be… well… raping that night. But I've gotten to know you in these last few days, Tweek, and you've gotten to know me, better than anyone else has. And I'm not going to deny anymore that I love you. That's not something I say to everyone, whatever you think. I've never felt like this before, not so completely, not like my life is absolutely tied to another person's. But it is to yours. I know it is."

"K-Kenny…" he whispers. He's pressed back against the tree trunk, and I realize that I've gotten all up in his face, so that there's barely a millimeter of space between our noses. I step back with a slight cough, pressing my lips together and folding my arms silently.

"I…" His eyes flicker around desperately, as though he's not sure what to look at.

"I understand," I promise with a calmness that surprises even myself. "I know that for you, it could never be anyone but Craig. That's fine. That's all I'd expect, okay? And if he ever gets better, I want you two to be together, because I want you to be happy. And you will be happy with him, much more than you ever would be with me. So… just… do that for me…" My voice cracks out of nowhere, and I feel a slight burning starting behind my eyes and in the base of my throat. "You said it to me, yesterday, before you jumped. You wanted me to be happy. And now I want you to be happy. And this isn't a test to see how loyal you are to me or anything. Happiness was… never meant for me. I'm supposed to provide it for other people. That's the answer, isn't it? That's why I'm able to keep on dying. Because that way I can sacrifice myself as many times as I need to. My purpose is to let other people be happy, or ignorant, or alive. It's a… mistake for someone like me to fall in love. But I have anyways."

We stare at each other in silence. My chest is heaving, while his is perfectly steady. The birds have returned—they're chirping again, high-pitched little noises that feel like pinpricks through the blanket of silence. My eyes start to itch with the urge to break contact with Tweek's, but I force them to remain in place, almost challenging him. Just when I'm starting to wonder how long we can last like this, he lets out a loud, noisy exhalation and shakes his head.

"You are an idiot," he states calmly.

I won't deny that that rubs my fur the wrong way. "What do you mean?" I demand defensively. "How—how am I an idiot?"

"You're not meant for love? You really believe that shit?" He raises his eyebrows, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a mocking smirk. "Give me a break, Kenny."

"Cut it out. I'm being serious."

"So am I," he sighs quietly, leaning forward and kissing me.

I freeze for a moment, surprised and caught completely unaware. He pulls back almost instantly, still with that steady, knowing look in his green eyes. I don't know what to say, how to react. So I settle for stammering, "What was that for?"

"What do you mean, 'what was that for?'"

"I mean—exactly what it sounds like!" I should probably be happy, flattered, even, but I'm not. I don't understand why he'd have to do this to me, to mock me like this. "You don't get it, do you? I can't keep doing this. If we're going to stay together… it has to be as friends, okay? I don't… I don't want to think that I can have you and then not. I mean… I'm sorry, but… it's hard for me. Unimaginably hard. This isn't easy, for me, to have a—a light relationship like this with someone I really care about. I'm used to this type of thing with all the sluts and whores and shit who pay to have me, and… well—the point is, I'm not going to be able to cope with thinking that I have you for a few days, weeks—months, whatever—and then losing you as soon as Craig comes back. I can't do that."

"I'll say it again," he says steadily, "you're an idiot."

"Stop it!"

"Kenny… do you think I get involved with people easily? I've never dated, Ken. Never anyone but him. Never. Here you are, with all your piles of girls, but I've never had anyone but Craig. Not in my whole life."

"That's my point!"

"No, it's not. Because you're missing a really vital aspect of it." He bites at his bottom lip, looking almost nervous for the first time. "A really, really vital aspect."

I half-glare at him suspiciously. "Go on, then, don't leave me in the dark. What's this oh-so-important thing that I've managed to miss?"

"Never anyone but him, until a few days ago. Until that day when he decided to call you to the house, and when you didn't just stand there and watch, but helped me. Don't you realize how few people would do that? I can't think of a single other person in the school who would risk themselves like that for no reason at all. Just like you said, you didn't know me. You have no connection to me whatsoever. And yet you saved me. From him. Who else would do that?"

"What… what are you saying?" My stomach is twisting in about fifty-seven different directions at once, and my mouth has suddenly become very dry. But I can't say it's an altogether unpleasant thing, to be honest.

"I've dealt with him for so long. That night was no worse than any other. But I left anyways, I ran away with you. And that wasn't because I wanted to escape from him, Kenny. It wasn't a push, it was a pull. I came with you so that I could be with you."

I shake my head infinitesimally, not letting myself believe him.

"I wanted to find out more about the person who was selfless and brave and kind enough to risk his… well… his everything just so that I could stop suffering. And I did, and I liked what I found. You are… the most amazing person I've ever met, Kenny. Of course… you aren't going to replace him for me… nobody ever is. But the fact remains that Craig and I can't be together anymore. Even if he did manage to… recover, somehow, to become himself again… too much negativity has passed between us, at this point. Just thinking about him… God, I love him so much, but that love hurts. I don't want to be with someone who hurts me, even if it's a blissful hurt. I want to be with someone who can make me happy, Kenny McCormick, and that person is you."

"Me," I repeat.

"Yeah. You."

"So… what are you saying?" I ask again, more slowly this time. I can't imagine that he's trying to communicate what I think, what I want to think, but I can't come to any other conclusion. "Just… like you said, I'm an idiot. Lay it out for me. Say it. Please. Just… in the plainest terms possible."

"In the plainest terms possible?" he repeats. "I should think that's pretty damn obvious by now, Kenny. Even you aren't that stupid."

"I… I don't want to assume anything…"

"Don't assume, then. Guess." He leans in, tilts his head up so that we can meet each other's eyes, presses up next to me so that our chests are touching, separated only by our shirts. "Whatever's in your mind… say it for me."

"It sounds like…" My voice is too loud, too harsh next to his soft murmur. I swallow, and the next words come out in a strangled whisper. "It sounds like you're saying… you're saying that…"

He reaches up, grips the collar of my shirt with one hand and rubs the fabric between his fingers. I can't move. I'm petrified, every time his nails brush my neck I get a thousand electric shocks, and his eyes, oh, God, his eyes, they're so big and wide and deep… green, green eyes, framed by long, pale lashes and underscored with a light hint of deep violet from lack of sleep, fainter than usual since he could rest decently last night… they flicker in the movement of a blink, dusting the pale skin of his cheeks for the briefest of moments, casting delicate, blurry shadows.

"Tell me," he whispers, his breath ghosting against my lips.

"You're saying that you love me."

"Damn straight."

We both lean into each other at the same time, and, somehow, this feels like the first real kiss, even though it's far from the first—there was the time at his house, the one at the motel, the one at the cabin. Each progressively more tentative and sweet than the first—backwards for most couples, but for us it makes perfect sense somehow. Sunlight streams down from between the treetops, illuminating our entwined figures, but my eyes aren't open to see it. One of my hands is on his shoulder blade, gently tracing the bone, and the other is at his waist, holding him as close to me as I can. It goes on for minutes, one melting into the other, and we don't so much as gain energy—it's just a simple process of pressing our lips together over and over, moving them in new but still soft ways, tasting and feeling each other as time passes by. Neither of us notice, though, because there aren't any clocks out here—there's nothing out here, nothing but each other, and that's perfect, so perfect.

I don't think about the fact that he said I'll never be what Craig was to him.

I don't think about how I myself still haven't abandoned Craig altogether.

I don't think about how we're still being hunted.

I don't think about how there's no food back home, about how we'll have to drive to town and buy some.

I don't think about there ever being any reason for this to even come near approaching an ending.

But not thinking about something doesn't make it any less inevitable, and so it is that, after a long, long time, he finally takes a couple of steps back, letting go of my shirt and taking a deep breath. I'm a bit lightheaded myself, and make sure to inhale sharply to steady the world that's spinning around me. It doesn't do that much to help, but at least I'm fairly confident now that I'm not going to topple over randomly.

"You okay?" he asks with a slightly nervous laugh.

"Fantastic," I reply, grinning widely. "Never been better. How about you?"

"Oh, y'know… pretty much perfect."

We both laugh, then, giddily and stupidly, and once I start I can't stop. I'm just so damn happy. Things keep getting better and better between us, even with the small fights. I can deal with the small fights. And I will, if that's what it takes.

I can deal with anything, if that's what it takes to be with him.

Of course it doesn't last.

I should know that the chill suddenly running down my spine is caused by more than just the sun slipping behind a cloud. But I don't give it any thought until I'm pinned to the ground with Craig's hands around my throat.