*Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to South Park.

Chapter 14

I could hear my heart pounding through my ears. My hands were still clutched tightly around Craig's hat, frozen and unable to move. My whole body felt as though it was quivering beneath my thick clothing…and I knew it wasn't due to the cold.

Craig had fallen asleep long ago in the front seat. His even breathing and occasional snores gave it away. But my gaze was set forward, and even though my body ached and trembled; I couldn't find it in me to get up. Getting up would be like admitting that everything I'd just heard was real. At least laying down I could pretend I was dreaming. Pretend that I didn't just hear my undead old crush admit his stupid feelings. Pretend his cold lips never touched my face. Pretend I didn't like it.

Ugh, fuck me.

I wished I had a pillow so that I could have smothered myself with it. I couldn't focus on this. Not now. We were so close to South Park, we just needed to get Bebe back, and then I could figure out what to do about Craig.

Unless Bebe isn't alive anymore.

"Ngh—stop it." I grumbled, curling farther into myself. I glanced down at Craig's hat in my grip and frowned. The fabric smelt rotten, but I kept the article of clothing close to me. I found some sort of strange comfort in it, like a child does in a blanket or a stuffed animal. Maybe that's why Craig's been keeping it around.

I sighed before finally stretching out as much as I could—which wasn't a lot—and sitting up. The world outside of the car windows was slowly lighting up, well, as much as it could with thick clouds forever blanketing the sky. The dull gray light dripped into the windows, exposing the tears and spattered blood stains ground into the seats.

Craig continued to sleep in the front, and I watched the back of him warily from my spot in the back. I never wanted him to wake up, because I knew the moment he did that I would have to address the things I'd heard him say last night. No more shoving important stuff like this aside. It seemed like we'd been doing that ever since we began traveling together. I was sick of throwing away words that needed to be said. If I didn't have this conversation with Craig, my chest might explode…and he'd be eating my organs off of the cracked windshield.

Whimpering at that beautiful image, I climbed awkwardly into the passenger seat, dragging my baseball bat along with me in one gloved hand, and Craig's hat in the other.

I plopped down in the torn leather, the slight noise I made only causing the slumbering zombie beside me to mumble incoherently. I let myself examine him while he slept. It's amazing how much a hat can change an appearance. He seemed like a completely different person. His hair was greasy and hung low around his face. Some of the strands were matted together toward the top of his head, making his hair look like a frantic disarray, as mine usually does.

I didn't even want to know what my hair looked like. It probably didn't even look blonde anymore.

Craig began to stir as the dull daylight brightened up the small car's interior. I watched him silently, gripping his hat loosely in my lap. His body suddenly stretched out in the torn seat, and his mouth opened wide in a deep yawn. I wrinkled my nose as Craig's putrid breath filled the car momentarily. My stomach lurched at the memory of the same blue lips touching my cheek just a few hours ago. How could I even think about being attracted to him? He's dead. Like, Jesus man, that's disgusting!

Don't forget, he tried to eat you.

That boy I'd bludgeoned, Craig had begun digging into him. I didn't even know if the boy was really dead or not, and then Craig lost control and pounced on me.

He stopped though.

It doesn't matter! He still did it, what if he does it again?!

"My hat."

My internal argument suddenly ceased at the sound of Craig's low tired voice cutting through the silence. Startled, I glanced over at him, involuntarily squeezing the damaged clothing. He was sitting forward, his gaze awkwardly rested in my lap. I could tell by his strange expression that the event from yesterday was still on his mind. Normally, he probably would have just grabbed the chullo from my grasp, but right now he seemed cautious…even leaning away from me to some degree. Which was strange, considering he basically had a one sided conversation with me while leaning only inches from my face.

Then again, he didn't know you were conscious.

So this behavior was for my benefit.

"Uh, yeah," I finally squeaked, "I-I forgot it was in my pocket." I thrust my arm in his direction, his hat held in my tight shaking fist.

Craig reached a pale hand for it carefully, tugging the cloth from my trembling fist. He pulled it over his greasy hair slowly before settling back in his seat.

My nerves calmed down at the familiar image, reveling in the normalcy of it.

"Oh, by the way," Craig muttered, shifting as he dug into the pockets of his jeans, "I found these last night." I heard the well-known sound of jingling before he produced a small ring of dirty keys.

For a second I thought my heart skipped a beat.

"H-Holy shit, are those for the car?" I asked eagerly, previous serious discussions momentarily forgotten.

"We're about to find out." Craig shrugged. Picking out the key with chunky black plastic on the top of it, he shoved it into the ignition and turned it hopefully. I held my breath, nearly pissing in happiness as the engine roared to life.

"It works!" I shouted, probably alerting every zombie in any one-mile radius. Craig cringed from my squeal and sent an irritated glare in my direction.

"Fuck yeah it does." He eventually said. "And it looks like we've got enough fuel to make it to South Park." Craig glanced over at me, and once again his expression seemed strange. This wasn't like the caution he was showing before when I had his hat though. This was something else. Something I couldn't place.

"Well let's get moving." I said awkwardly, reaching to pull on my seatbelt but stopping when my hand connected with ripped elastic. "B-But drive well, the seatbelts are gone." I added nervously.

Craig gave me a humorless stare. "Don't ever change, Tweek." He said flatly, shifting the car into gear and pressing the gas.

About half an hour into the drive I decided that it would be best to finally begin the conversation I'd been dreading. I knew we must have been approaching South Park soon, considering that the dreary scenery blurring passed us wrung a familiar bell in my mind. I gave us an hour, maybe two, before the wooden sign welcoming us to South Park would appear.

So far the drive had been awkward and silent, and I supposed the only thing to do now was make the atmosphere even more uncomfortable.

"Craig," I squeaked, my voice cracking humiliatingly, "w-we need to talk." Ugh, God, this was going to be so bad.

Craig was quiet, his grip adjusted uneasily on the steering wheel. "Okay. Talk."

I twisted my fingers together uncomfortably, staring into my lap and trying to decide where to start.

Taking a deep breath I chose the best approach.

"What were you thinking when you started…eating that kid from before?" I asked carefully.

Craig seemed almost relieved by this question.

"I don't know," he replied, "I didn't think anything." He paused, thinking. "Fuck, it was like, I blacked out without actually blacking out, you know?"

I twitched and narrowed my eyes. "No."

"Instincts." Craig eventually muttered. "I had no thought process. The idea of…eating him felt so fucking right, so overwhelmingly right, that I didn't even have time to think it through." There was a tiny bit of shame in Craig's usual gruff monotonous voice.

"So, when you attacked me—"

"Attack's kind of a strong word…"

"You jumped on me and almost ripped my face off!"

"But I stopped."

"Ugh, whatever." I huffed angrily. We glared at each other for a brief second before I continued. "So when you attacked," Craig grimaced, "me, y-you didn't really know what was going on?"

"No, not at first. But, uh, your scent kind of triggered something." The zombie next to me mumbled awkwardly. "Like, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to bite you. But I didn't act on instinct. Because I recognized that smell as you, and—despite what you think—" I rolled my eyes, "I don't want to eat you."

I took that in slowly, turning my head to look out the grimy window. We passed a few zombies, their gnarled decaying faces spun in the direction of our car, but they ditched the idea of a chase after a few steps.

"What's going to happen to you when we get to Hell's Pass?" I asked, suddenly concerned. After all, we couldn't just go waltzing in with Craig as a zombie. Especially since he was some sort of failed patient who managed to escape.

"We'll figure something out." Craig shrugged, although I could tell by his posture that he was tense on the subject.

I was incredibly tempted to once again push what I needed to say to Craig away. Because, Jesus, we had no plan. We didn't even know if Bebe was alive. Shouldn't we have a backup plan if she's…if she's dead? I didn't know what I wanted to say next. My thoughts were a jumbled train wreck, and the next words out of my mouth were not nearly as careful and calculated as I planned them to be.

"I was awake during your…confession last night." I whispered. The clarity in my voice was eerie, and even surprised me.

Suddenly the car lurched to a halt. My eyes snapped to the window nervously, inspecting the empty landscape around us: nothing but dead grass and mountains. Anxiously, my gaze traveled back to Craig, who looked considerably more uncomfortable than before.

"What confession?" He asked carefully, pressing his foot gently down on the gas.

I narrowed my eyes. There was no point in playing dumb with this.

"You—ngh—kissed me last night! On the cheek!" I pointed at my dirty skin as if to paint a picture.

Craig scowled, his brows furrowing angrily. He bit down on his torn lip with rotten teeth, his hands clenched tensely at the tattered steering wheel.

"I asked if you were awake." Craig growled. "Why didn't you tell me?" He hissed, shooting a glare in my direction. I was pretty sure that if he were still human, his face would have been red with either anger or embarrassment.

"Because I was trying to get some sleep!" I lied quickly. "I didn't want to stay up any later than I had to!" I pulled off one of my leather gloves; picking at the frayed seems in an attempt to calm myself down.

Once again the car ride had become awkward and silent. My stomach growled irritably, causing my face to flush in embarrassment. I was waiting for Craig to say something, anything, but all he did was keep his black gaze trained on the empty road, swerving around stalled cars or mutilated bodies.

It had been a good ten minutes before Craig finally responded.

"So, uh," Craig mumbled, taking a tense hand off the steering wheel to scratch the back of his neck, "what do you think?"

"What do y-you mean, 'what do I think'?" I asked, wrinkling my nose in confusion.

"Of what I said. What do you think?"

"I think your brain is actually rotting out of your head." I spat. Craig narrowed his eyes, offended from my insult.

"What the fuck? Why?"

"Because man!" I wailed, throwing my hands up for emphasis. "You can't just kiss me. You're a-a zombie, and this really isn't the time for romance!"

"I'm not looking for romance." Craig argued.

"Then why the hell did you kiss me?" I shot back quickly.

"I don't fucking know," Craig huffed, "it's not like you pulled away or anything." He eventually mumbled.

"Craig—"

"I also kissed you in Bebe's car." He interrupted. "And you didn't stop it until I bit you."

"I-I think you biting me is a pretty good reason to stop a kiss." I snapped, childishly turning in my seat to look outside the window rather than Craig's stupid rotten face. The worst part was that I felt myself so easily slipping back into the old feelings I'd had for Craig; even though I spent so much time swallowing them up and squishing them until they disappeared.

Now it looked like all that hard work was for nothing.

"What if I didn't bite you?" Craig asked, almost cautiously.

"I still would—ngh—have pushed you away." I answered with little hesitation.

"Why?"

"Because of how you used to treat me!" I retorted impatiently, glaring at the dead trees and ruined road signs.

"You heard me apologize—"

"That doesn't clear your history, Craig." I leaned my head against the cool glass of the window, shutting my eyes.

"So then, where are we at this point?"

I sighed shakily through my nose. I didn't like this. I didn't like being the one who had to come up with all the answers. I couldn't deal with holding all the answers. My brain was buzzing but my body was shutting down. I know I wanted this conversation to finally be pushed out of the way, but I also knew that we'd be in South Park soon, and this topic wasn't what I should be focusing on.

I had more important things to worry about.

"Can we finish this conversation when we get Bebe back?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel drowsiness already weighing my limbs down now that the anticipation of my confrontation was over.

Craig didn't respond, and I had to crack an eye open and make sure he was still alive…or—uh—conscious…whatever he was. He had that strange expression on his face again. The expression I couldn't read.

"Yeah, yeah we can talk about it then." He finally replied reluctantly.

I closed my eyes again and almost instantly felt myself drift to sleep.

I dreamed that I was on a pirate ship. The ocean roared beneath the large wooden boat, causing it to lurch and sway dangerously. I was currently clinging to the railing, staring petrified at the black waves that sprung up and licked the side of the boat.

"Shit." I heard a familiar voice growl.

Turning my head through the spraying salt and whipping wind I spotted Craig, trying desperately to keep the ship steady by pulling at the large timber wheel.

The boat took a dangerous plunge, soaking me in seawater.

"Fuck!" Craig cursed loudly. "Tweek, wake up!"

My eyes flew open and I launched forward, nearly banging my head against the stained dashboard.

I looked around in confusion, immediately recognizing my surroundings. To my right I saw fields and mountains, and to my left, passed Craig's tense form, I saw the thin road that split from the freeway and led to South Park.

However, we weren't on that road. We were on the side of it, in the grass. Facing forward, I realized why.

There was no mistaking the colorful rundown shops of South Park in the distance. Just seeing them made my heart ache in my chest. However, the road was splotched with countless dead bodies. Many of them decapitated, and even more of them so mangled it was hard to tell if they were even human.

Abandoned cars, chicken wire, and molten furniture created half hazard barricades that stretched all the way back to the town.

"Holy shit." I whispered, wide eyes unable to leave the baron scene. Clearly South Park went down fighting, and judging by the lack of activity, it didn't look like it won.

"There was some serious redneck warfare over here." Craig agreed, looking just as awed as I did.

I didn't want to picture people I knew crouching behind these makeshift barriers, holding shotguns and trying to fend off the cannibalistic monsters come to hunt them.

I couldn't cry, not now.

Pulling my goggles over my eyes, I twisted in my seat, grabbing the backpack full of food and unbuckling myself. Slinging the bag over my shoulder, I motioned to open the door when a cold hand stopped me.

I spun around to see Craig's eyes trained on the road.

"There are a couple of zombies." He said, bringing his black gaze back to me, looking me over. "They'll smell you."

My eyes traveled to the road, picking out three walking figures that I didn't notice before. I scanned the area ahead for more, but couldn't see any.

"Let them." I grabbed my baseball bat at my feet. "It's-it's only a few." As soon as I stepped out of the car the three slouching figures froze. I heard Craig slam the door beside me, obviously as careless as I was as far as noise went.

I let out a deep breath and began walking forward, skirting around the fallen bodies and broken barricades. I heard Craig shuffling behind me, but my focus was forward. The zombies were already on their way, knocking into walls of furniture in confusion. One was slower than the others, dragging its twisted leg as it tried to crawl over barbed wire.

"Which one do you want?" Craig asked, coming up beside me.

"Th-the right." I stuttered, my nerves getting to me despite the easy challenge. The black haired zombie simply nodded before heading off in front of me.

I sped up my pace, bringing my bat back as the zombie got closer. I could see its rotten features nearly melting off of its skull. Loose skin was nearly green with decay; gray hair barely clung to the scalp. It opened its mouth wide in a low moan, raising its arms in front of itself in desperation to reach me. Based off the poor state of the undead monster, I was willing to bet it hadn't eaten in a while.

The zombie bumped into one of the barricades, managing to tangle itself in rusted chicken wire as it tried to crawl over. I watched it squirm and growl, almost finding some sort of sick amusement in the scene.

Shivering, I stepped in front of the wiggling creature, bringing my bat up over my head and slamming it down.

The zombie stopped moving almost immediately.

Black blood covered up the crimson splatters that marred the end of my bat, bringing back a sense of normalcy that I didn't know I missed.

I stared back down at the motionless corpse, hoping it would be the last I had to kill for a long time.

But mostly, I was afraid of bumping into someone I recognized with the same black, glazed hungry look that all zombies wore before they came at me.

All but one.

I glanced over at Craig, only to see that he'd already taken care of the third zombie and was now waiting for me. He was wiping his mouth, clearly erasing any evidence of a small snack he might've indulged in during my slow kill.

I rushed forward, skirting around debris and wire to meet him.

"D-Do you think there will be many more?" I asked, following him as he began to walk.

"Don't know." Craig shrugged, seeming preoccupied, like something was on his mind. I chalked it up to our earlier conversation. "We might see people we've known." He told me seriously. "And if they…if they didn't make it. We'll have to kill them."

"I know." I mumbled, forcing my gaze ahead of me and shivering at the sight of the desolate town I used to call home.

The town where it all began.

I felt an eerie feeling that a secret I had yet to be exposed to was hiding in the abandoned walls of its houses as I passed a blood spattered wooden sign.

Welcome to South Park.

Wow sorry for the slow ass update haha! But I'm really excited for next chapter. Craig and Tweek finally get to Hell's Pass in hopes of finding Bebe…(review? Lol)

*Special thanks to The Scribz, Random anon, Sandy x Maxwell 4ever, Creek Grrl, Amberpaw199, Guest, and Goregeous for reviewing! And thanks to anyone really who even reads this poop haha!