AN: Okay yes, third update this week. I said this would be coming out in like a week BUT I'm on a roll and this chapter is SUPER important and I couldn't wait. Anyways if you don't read authors notes please make sure to read the one at the end!

My clothes are gone.

My clothes are fucking gone. Oh no. Oh god no. I need my clothes. I need my clothes right now. Craig can't see. Craig can't see me. If he sees me he'll think I'm disgusting and he'll hate me. Oh no. I need my clothes. Oh god.

"C-Craig!" I wrap the fluffy purple towel around my torso and clutch it tightly. I feel so exposed. I feel exposed and disgusting and- "Craig!" Oh god. No. Where are my clothes?!

"Tweek? What is it?" I don't know whether to be horrified or relieved to hear Craig on the other side of the door.

"Craig, w-where's my clothes?"

"I put them in the wash. You puked on them, remember? I grabbed you some of my clothes." The door handle jiggles as the teen on the other side attempts to open the door. It's getting hard to breathe. I feel sick again. "Dude, are you going to let me in?"

"U-Uh just, uh, set t-them on t-the floor. I-I'll grab them s-soon." Oh god. He can't see. He can't see.

"Are you okay?"

"J-Just leave t-them on the floor!"

"Tweek, what's going on?"

"D-Damn it, Craig! L-Leave them on the f-floor!"

"Fuck dude, okay." Craig huffs then seems to step away from the door. I wait until I hear Craig's footsteps fade down the hall. With a heavy sigh I hesitantly open the door. A neatly folded pile of clothes wait for me. I pick them up and lock the door behind me.

Craig brought me a pair of black basketball shorts and a gray t-shirt that says Space Camp 2006. I need a long sleeve shirt. This isn't good enough. Oh god this isn't good enough. He'll see me. He'll see my disgusting arms. He's going to see it. Oh god.

When I pull the shirt over my head I don't shove my arms through the arm designated holes. Instead I press my ugly limbs to my chest. This outfit is gigantic. I'm paranoid the pants will slide off. But more importantly he can't see my arms.

Through my shirt I carefully open the bathroom door. I make my way to Craig's room. Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm Tweek.

His door is wide open and covered in various signs that stay out. Craig is standing with his back to me. He's fiddling with something in his hand. I stay quiet. I don't want him to see me. He can't see me.

If I stay distracted I'll stay calm… Okay Tweek. Just distract yourself and stay calm. Look around Craig's room. Ground yourself. Remember what Bentley would tell you to do. Stay grounded into reality.

Craig's walls are painted dark blue and he still has the same soft twin sized bed from elementary school. His walls are covered in all kinds of posters and drawings. Various bands and indie movie posters I've never heard of decorate the dark blue surfaces. His ceiling is peppered with glow in the dark stars we spent hours putting up in fourth grade. It feels me with unexplainable joy to see those tiny little plastic shapes still there.

His desk is occupied by a desktop computer and dual monitors. I'm pretty sure Craig plays a bunch of video games and stuff. He has a couple of bookshelves that have some books but they're mostly occupied by random boy-ish knick knacks.

I love his room, somehow it screams 'Craig Tucker'.

Craig Tucker. Oh god. That's right. He can't see. I feel my chest tighten up again and I have to force myself to breathe. Deep breaths Tweek, deep breaths Tweek. Stay calm and grounded. Breathe!

Craig must hear me breathing because he turns around to look at me. The noirette looks a little worried but he's still as stoic as ever. His short hair is spiked up slightly from sleeping on it. He also changed into fresh pajamas. He's wearing sweatpants and a shirt that says; "Are you from outer space? Because you're out of this world."

Oh god, he's perfect.

"Tweek," he glances at my arms that remain stubbornly under my shirt. "What are you doing?"

"U-Uh," I've never been very good at lying. I don't even want to lie to Craig but-

"I-I'm cold."

"You're cold." He repeats, monotonously.

"Y-Yes Craig, I'm cold."

"Okay."

"S-So can I have a jacket o-or something?" Craig just stares at me. He eventually starts to slowly move towards his closet.

"Sure," he sounds like he doesn't believe me. Oh god. "You sure you're okay?"

"J-Jesus! Yes Craig!" This can't be happening.

"You're lying." Craig grabs a hoodie from his closet then starts to make his way back over to me. "You bite your lip. When we were kids you did that. You'd always bite your lip when you lie." Craig doesn't stop until he's towering right over me. "I remember because in elementary school I asked you if you drank coffee when you were trying to quit. You said no and bit your lip so hard it started bleeding and you freaked out."

"I r-remember that." Craig had then spent the next half hour just trying to calm me down. In the end another cup of coffee was the only thing that did the trick.

"And then you admitted that you lied." His voice is soft. "So Tweek, what's wrong?"

Oh, Jesus. Man. This is way too much pressure. How does he remember something so random like that? Oh man. What do I do? Oh god. He can't see.

"N-Nothing!"

"Tweek." He takes a hold of my chin and tilts my head up so that I'm looking at him. I think he's showing the most emotion I've seen in a long time. He actually looks kind of worried. "If you don't actually want to date me or something you can just tell me."

"W-What! N-No!" I quickly snatch a handful of his shirt. It's a little tricky to do considering I have to grip at him through the material of my own shirt. I push myself even closer to him so that our bodies are pressed together.

I feel better now that we're touching. I think I actually really like Craig. I like how this is going. I like kissing Craig.

I like Craig.

I think I've always liked him. I didn't want to like him. We weren't friends anymore. I just pushed this adoration away and ignored it. I didn't want this to new feeling to be real. I told myself that he's scary. I told myself I hated him. But-

I don't want to lose him. Not so soon. But why would he ever like someone like me? And soon he'll see them and he'll hate me. He'll quit his job and we'll never talk again. I'll never ever date someone again because I'm so gross. I'll be alone forever.

He's going to hate me.

"Then what is it?" He taps my chin so that I'll look back up at him. His weird eyes are intently fixed on mine. Those blue-gray eyes are peering into my soul. He's going to find out. It's over. This is all over. Oh god.

"I-I can't t-tell you."

Craig frowns. "Yes you can. Just open your mouth and say it. Dude we're like dating now. You're supposed to be honest and shit, or whatever." Craig seems incredibly awkward. He's such an awkward dorky giant. Oh I love how he's such an awkward dorky giant.

I feel myself make some kind of whimpering noise. It's so embarrassing when I make weird sounds. I sound like some kind of dumb animal. Ugh, I hate it. I hate this. Why am I so dumb? Why am I so fucking messed up?

"Tweek. Why are you hiding from me?" Craig's hands let go of my face and move down to grip my puny biceps through my shirt.

Oh god. My heart is pounding so hard it's going to explode. My entire is pulsing with this awful force. I swear to god my heart is going to explode. Seventeen is too young to die. It's too young. I just started dating Craig!

"I-I'm cold." The words are weak and half-hearted. I try not to but I feel my two front teeth graze against my lower lip. Craig sees it. He knows I'm lying. But I can't tell him. He can't know.

He's going to find out. He's going to see. Just a couple of weeks ago harming myself seemed like the perfect solution. It's proof of my pain. But- now? Now I feel so gross and disgusting and ugly. Why did I ever hurt myself? What's wrong with me?

"Tweek, c'mon." Craig's hands slide from my biceps to trace down the length of my arm until he reaches my hands. His fingers slide against my own. "Why are you hiding your arms? It's okay. Just show me."

"I can't."

"Yes you can. It's okay." His voice is soft and barely above a whisper. His touch is calm and gentle. I haven't seen this side of Craig in so long… I've missed this. Why did I ever push him away? Why did I ever let our friendship end? Why did I ever let him go?

Everything is happening so fast. I can't keep up. I can't do this. I can't. I can't. I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't do this.

"Tweek, calm down." Did Craig say something? What did he say? I think it's getting hot in here. I think there's something on my chest. Why is everything so heavy? What's going on? I can't. I can't? "Tweek you're panicking."

Did he say something about panic? Or was that Titanic? Manic? Wow, it's kind of hard to breathe.

I can't.

I can't.

Why can't I breathe? Oh god. I can't breathe.

Wait.

My arms. Oh god. Where are my arms? Why can't I move my arms? I can't breathe. I have no arms. Oh god. I can't. I can't. I can't I can't do this. I can't breathe. Oh god. I can't. I can't!

"TWEEK! Hey, buddy, just pull your arms out. It's okay. You can breathe. Deep breaths, okay? In and out, man. Just in and out." That voice is familiar. That voice is soothing. That's Craig? Yeah, that's Craig. He's right. It's about breathing. I feel my arms being pulled and tugged.

Cool air hits my flesh and I'm free again.

It's okay. I can. I can. I can. Breathe. Yes, I can breathe. Just breathe.

I can.

Wait.

Oh god. My arms.

Reality returns to me.

I was having a panic attack. I'm in Craig's room. I'm okay. I can breathe. I have arms. I was having a panic attack. I can. It's okay.

But- It's not okay. It's not okay because there is a set of stunning blue gray eyes that are fixed on my stupid ugly arms. There's a stupidly perfect face turned down to stare at scrawny destroyed arms. Arms I destroyed. There's a normally neutral face disfigured with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

He knows.

He hates me. He's disgusted. He knows my secret. Someone knows. It's over. It's all over. It was so perfect. It was so short. It was so perfect but now it's over.

It's getting hard to breathe again.

What do I even do? It's really cold now. I think I'm shaking. I'm definitely shaking. The only things keeping me warm are the two hands that grip my wrists tightly.

He knows.

He's silent. He hasn't looked away from my arms. They're no longer bandaged and the majority of injuries from my latest episode have healed. Only the worst of cuts are left as ugly dark scabs. It's all so gross and- ugh.

It's over. He knows.

"Tweek." No. Don't say a word. Don't say anything Craig. I don't want to hear it. I don't think I can handle it. I know. I know. I know. I know how disgusting I am. I hate me too. It's okay. I hate me. I'm so disgusting. Oh god. It's over.

His hands slowly slide down. He weaves his fingers through mine. Why did he do that? What does that mean? He hasn't looked up and met my eyes. Why is he holding my hands?

It's over.

"Tweek, I-" Craig cuts off to sigh heavily. He sounds so tired. He still hasn't looked up. His eyes are focused on my stupid ugly arms. Look away Craig. Please. Please stop looking. "Hey, it's alright."

No it's not. It's not 'alright'.

"Don't cry," he softly coos. Why does he sound so caring? Why does Craig Tucker sound sweet? Craig Tucker doesn't do sweet.

Wait- crying? Am I crying? I pull one hand free and touch my face. I'm shaking so hard. My face is wet. I am crying…?

"Tweek, it's okay. Just keep breathing, okay?" Craig finally looks up at me and our eyes meet. His icy façade is back but it's not as closed off as usual. A sliver of emotion is still there.

The handsome teen doesn't look away from me until I nod stiffly. "Okay, actually this isn't okay. Fuck-" I knew it. He's breaking up with me. It's over. It's all over. Craig cuts off and runs his free hand through his hair. "I'm not good at this feeling, talking crap. I think you know that.

"But it's not okay that you have to do this to yourself. It's not okay that you're covered in these. Hurting yourself is never the answer. Absolutely never." His free hand goes back to grab my own. "This is shit you're going to live with forever, but I think you know that. It's not okay that you have to turn to harming yourself to feel better. I don't hate you or anything because of it though. Don't give me that look. I'm not going to break up with you over this shit.

"I just wish you never had to resort to this bullshit." Craig sighs. "Besides all that shit it's okay. You're not any less of a person. I still really fucking like you, okay? You don't have to be scared of me seeing this part of you."

I don't know what to say or think. I feel kind of numb and empty. Is this really happening? It's taking me nearly an entire minute to just process what Craig is saying.

What do I say now?

"I'm s-sorry," is all I manage to force out. I can't tear my eyes away from our clasped hands. Craig lets go of one of my hands to push my chin up. Our eyes meet and he gives me a half-hearted smile. My eyes flutter closed as his head dips towards mine.

His lips carefully being pushed against mine fills me with sweet relief. The kiss is short and sweet. That one little action is worth a million unsaid words that a shy stoic Craig Tucker can't express. But most of all it means that this is okay. We're okay.

Craig rests his forehead against mine and his fingers carefully sweep over my arms. I watch his dazzling eyes trace over every blemish on my skin. After several moments of peace he pulls away from me and takes a step backwards.

"Hey Tweek, I have something to show you, okay?" I nod.

I gasp when Craig's hands reach down to grab the hem of his shirt. He starts pulling it up and I look away out of embarrassment. In the corner of my eye I see him fully take off his shirt. He tosses it over his computer chair.

"When I say I have something to show you that usually means you're supposed to look, dork." Craig sounds mildly amused but also… nervous?

I slowly turn my head so that I'm looking at him and I gasp.

Out of all the things I could have ever imagined I never expected this.

"Like I said, it's not okay. It's really not. But I also really fucking understand. I actually fucking understand Tweek."

Craig does understand.

He knows.

Because…

Craig's torso is scarred.

Dark pink parallel lines are etched into his flesh. All the way from the side to his ribs down to nearly his hips. Both of his sides are marked the most and the front of his torso as well although not as much. His scars are puckered and ugly. They're all deep and disturbing.

Craig Tucker has scars.

Craig Tucker understands.

Craig Tucker knows what it's like to be broken.

My body is moving on its own. Pretty soon I'm standing directly in front of Craig and my fingers are tracing the raised flesh. I still feel nothing but there is a swelling pressure in my chest.

"Hey, don't cry." His large hands are wiping at the corner of my eyes.

I never thought Craig Tucker would be someone who would understand what it's like to be me.

"H-How?"

"I don't know." Craig shrugs. His hands slide down to grip my shoulders. "The doctors told me I had borderline personality disorder and your classic depression. I guess I've always just kind of had it? I never knew it because I just never really felt anything. I always felt empty and far away.

Does that make sense?" Craig glances up to look at me.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper. I know exactly how that feels. Craig understands.

"I never felt anything and sometimes I just wanted to feel. I could feel pain. So when I wanted to feel I'd just do this to myself." Craig pauses and I nod at him to continue.

I really had no idea.

"Then last year Ruby walked in on me and my whole family freaked. I had to go to a bunch of doctors and therapists and shit. Now I'm on medication to help it and yeah. I've been clean for like five months or something."

I don't know what to say. "I'm sorry." Craig laughs softly and yanks me closer to him. He wraps his arms around me and I quickly hug him back. I feel his chin tuck itself over the top of my scalp. My forehead is pressed against his collarbone and I press my lips to his chest.

I want to make him feel better.

"Don't be sorry. Just promise you'll try not to hurt yourself again, okay? You're better than that. I actually fucking understand Tweek. Just come to me or something, okay? Or I'll go to you. Whatever you need. Just promise me, please?"

"O-Okay. I promise." I don't know if I can actually do it but with Craig by my side I think maybe I can.

I want to change. For Craig.

I didn't get home until about eleven that night. We spent all day lying together in Craig's bed as we started watching the relaunch of Red Racer. At first we actually paid attention as Craig ranted on about how the original show is a million times better.

After the third or fourth episode we ended up just making out and talking. I told Craig about my bitter decline into mental illnesses and being institutionalized for it. He got frustrated that he 'let me go', even though I was the one who pushed him away. In return he told me more about his experience with his own illness. I wish I had been there for him.

I used to always wonder when we were kids how Craig and I were friends. We virtually have nothing in common but we always got along so well. I think now I get it. I think we both just always understood each other in ways other people can't. We both understood what it's like to struggle and feel empty and broken. We both understand what it's like to just want to feel loved and not alone. We made each other feel not alone but then I ruined that when I pushed him away...

At dinner Craig's family got super excited to see me. Thomas, who's Craig's really scary dad, told me it was nice to see me around. Craig's mom kept asking me questions non-stop and Craig practically had to pull Ruby off of me. Before I left they all told me to come back and visit again sometime.

I left Craig's house feeling loved, understood and happy. I can't remember ever feeling this content. I don't feel so alone and it's a great feeling.

I'm not naive enough to think that everything will suddenly be alright now that I have a boyfriend. But I've made a new connection in life and I think I just really needed this. I really fucking needed this. Maybe now I'll start to get better?

I don't know. Craig is really distracting me. I left his house like fifteen minutes ago and already he won't stop texting me. He keeps asking me what I'm doing. And now he's going on about how Clyde won't stop texting him asking about us.

It makes me smile.

I really can't stop smiling.

I'm not really sure where my parents are. I promised Craig I'd ask them about the work schedule. For now I'm too focused on trying to make some coffee while texting Craig. He seriously needs to calm down. Five seconds of peace would be nice.

I'm sitting at the dining room table enjoying the coffee I had finally finished making when my parents walk into the room. I'm not really sure if they just got home or if they were upstairs or something. I don't really care.

"Tweek honey, how was hanging out with your friends?" My mom looks kind of dazed and out of it. My dad just goes straight to the coffee pot and starts helping himself to my coffee.

"I-It was good." Oh god what if they can tell I got drunk last night? Or what if they can tell I tried drugs? Oh god.

"You boys are inseparable, always running around together." My mom laughs softly. I think she thinks I'm like twelve again and that I was never not friends with Craig. This happens. I guess mom really is sick, just like me.

"I g-guess mom."

"Do you have school tomorrow? I just can't seem to remember…" Mom hums delicately and glances off into the distance. She must be really out of it if she can't remember that it's summer break.

"Dear, I do believe Tweek is on summer vacation. Isn't that right son?"

"Y-Yeah."

"Oh is that so?"

"Son this coffee is wonderful. It's subtle and mild. Mild like that first splash of sun on an April morning. This coffee is coffee the way it should be." My dad winks at me. "Now you remember that kiddo. Also, you and Kenny are working tomorrow morning, you hear?"

"D-Dad Kenny quit. I'm working with Craig n-now, remember?"

"Oh that's right. Silly me. Almost as silly as the unneeded additive creamer serves in coffee. The rich dark roast really is it's best on its own. Don't you agree son?"

"Augh! S-Sure!" I pause to make sure my dad is finished. I always have to make sure he's done with his coffee metaphors otherwise he won't listen to me. You just have to wait for him to get it all out of his system I guess. "Can you make a copy o-of the schedule for work f-for Craig and I-I? You also n-need to set up Craig's paycheck stuff o-or whatever."

"Oh? I hope Craig isn't working just for the money. Coffee is an art that needs patience and care. He understands that, right?"

"G-God dad! Jesus! Sure! We j-just want a schedule."

"Tweek don't yell at your father." I really wasn't yelling. "He just wants to make sure you boys take your job seriously. The shop is very important to this family. I know you're young but it's no excuse to slack off."

"Ack. Mom, o-okay."

"I'll get that stuff ready but you remember what I said, okay? Coffee is-"

"No! I d-don't want to hear it! I know!" I can't stand having this same stupid conversation every time I try talking to my family.

"Sweetie why don't you get to bed? It's getting late and you have school tomorrow." My mom is staring at me with blank eyes and a wide smile. God. Why can't my parents just be normal?

"O-Okay. Sure."

"Don't forget your coffee!" I smile weakly at my mom but head upstairs anyways.

Deep breaths Tweek. Just deep breaths.

AN: OKAY I SWEAR THIS IS IMPORTANT PLEASE READ (sorry its so long)

SO. This chapter marks the end of the first major arc in this story! This fic is not nearly over, I know where I want to end it but I don't know how it's going to get there. So I'm probably going to take a week or two off from updating just to start planning out the next chunk of this story and to start writing it.

NEXT. This chapter was HUGE. I think this was a big scene you were all really looking forward too. Hopefully it met your standards! This chapter was really hard to write for several reasons. One of the biggest reasons is because I tried really, really, really fucking hard not to romanticize self-harm. Like, seriously. I just want to stress that self-harm is a serious problem. It doesn't make anyone any less of a human but it's not something to be promoted or romanticized or idealized or anything of the sort. I think you all really know that, but, often in media mental illnesses become this seducing sinful thing that people seem to just kind of idealize? I really don't know how to word what I'm trying to say so hopefully this makes some sense. (And that I'm not offending anyone? If I am I'm so sorry I'm not trying to)

For anyone who needs someone to talk to or ANYTHING feel free to contact me! (On here or tumblr - )I honestly don't care if you want a new friend or if you need advice or just want someone to talk to. If you need/want someone to talk to I'm always here. I'm here for you all! Mental illnesses are hard and they suck. So yeah. Just. Don't be afraid to talk to me. I'm human just like all of you guys.

Well on a last note, thanks like ALWAYS for all the amazing comments and stuff! I mean, asks on tumblr and even FANMAIL? Just. Whoa. TBH you guys made me cry because I was so flattered and touched? When I posted this fic I didn't expect any attention and you guys are all just so sweet? (There's over 100 of you combined on ff and AO3 :O and that's like 100 more than I ever anticipated?) Yeah, you guys get it. Just. AGH. THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH.

IN THANKS LEAVE SOME SP ONESHOT REQUESTS ON MY TUMBLR AND I PROMISE ILL WRITE THEM AND POST THEM ON TUMBLR. LIKE THEY CAN BE PAIRING REQUESTS OR RANDOM SITUATION OR IDEAS OR YAH JUST WHATEVER. You can even feel free to drop more than one request (in or out of anon, I don't care) and as long as I'm not swamped I'll write them alllll. Okay. I'm done ranting now. Thank you babes xxLanie