Tweek

A normal recess for Tweek Tweak was rather boring to be perfectly honest. Usually, he spent the time allotted to them hiding away from everyone else. Because many other people had the same idea, it was sometimes a little difficult to find somewhere to hide, but Tweek was very good at hiding from the rest of humanity.

It wasn't like anyone wanted to bother him anyway, no, people were pretty good about leaving him alone. After all, no one wanted to talk to the strange, twitching boy in the corner talking to things that weren't even there. So all he had to do was find somewhere empty and then sit there and no one would bother him. All very boring.

Was it lonely? Well, sometimes, but Tweek was used to being lonely so really it wasn't that bad. Usually, he sat outside, near where the goths hung out but not close enough to actually talk to any of them. He knew that the ground was filthy and breathing in second-hand smoke could probably give you cancer and kill you but it was better than sitting in the cafeteria where there were just too many people or sitting somewhere else in the school, where he chanced getting knocked around.

Out here, the worst that happened was Kenny showed up and chose to make his life difficult. And really, what could you do about something like that. The odd blond just sort of did what he wanted and Tweek had no way to get him to go away.

But today, thankfully, Kenny was leaving him alone for which Tweek was eternally grateful because if there was one time that he needed peace and quiet, it was today. He'd spent all morning freaking out after all, unable to think about anything but the fight that he was going to be part of after school. It wasn't like he could just ignore the horrible grey cloud hanging over his head after all, it just wasn't possible.

The worst part, in Tweek's mind, had been how Craig had acted.

For the first time in months, Craig hadn't looked his way once. Tweek hadn't been able to keep himself from glancing over at the tall Noirette every few minutes but Craig had never looked up. Except he hadn't been simply calm and unconcerned with what was going on around him, no, Craig had looked endlessly conflicted and angry.

It wasn't immediately obvious, was Craig ever immediately obvious? But Tweek, who knew Craig's expressions like the back of his hand, could see those little twitches that meant Craig was furious. He's furious with me, this is all my fault. He hates me, I just know he does! That's what Kyle and Stan had said, they'd told him just how much Craig hated him, how much he made fun of him for no other reason than to be cruel. It drove him crazy because when he looked at the boy, he just didn't want to believe it.

Craig didn't do things like that, he was straightforward and swift in his anger. He didn't use underhanded tactics like telling Tweek he was going home then showing up when he knew that Tweek wasn't there. That was so stupid but then Tweek saw the anger in Craig's blue eyes and he felt his bones freezing and solidifying in his skin. I have to fight him, I have to protect myself.

Curling up against the frankly filthy wall of the school, Tweek put his head between his knees and tugged at his hair until it felt like it was going to come out. He didn't want to do this! He would but he didn't want to! It wasn't fair that this had to happen, didn't he suffer enough already? Why did the world have to hate him so much?

At least he could eat lunch in silence. Tweek needed this moment of quiet, just doing nothing, just staring at nothing while he twitched and drank his coffee, entirely dead to the rest of the world, even while his mind consumed itself from the inside out. THIS ISN'T HELPING! Frustrated, he grabbed for his thermos. It slipped from his grasp almost instantly, rolling away from him. With a cry of panic, Tweek lunged forward, hardly caring when his knees scraped against the ground.

As it slipped from his fumbling fingers once more, Tweek let out a cry and almost face planted right then and there. He couldn't handle this! Finally, his fingers managed to close around his thermos and he scrambled upwards with relief, glad to have his fix back in his hands.

"Hey Tweek." Jerking at the sound of that voice, Tweek dropped his thermos again as he looked up at Stan and inevitably Kyle, both of whom stood above him. Stan had his arms crossed and he was looking down at Tweek as though he'd done something wrong.

"W-what do you want!?" Tweek squeaked, reaching for his coffee only for Kyle to pick it up and hold it out of his reach. He hated this, being sprawled out at their feet like this, it made him feel even more pathetic and weak than usual and that was saying something. The fight is later, why are they even here?! Did I miss something, are they upset with me?! Oh god, they are!

"You need to come with us," Stan told him coolly, his eyes betraying nothing. Tweek hated this. He didn't understand people, the only one he could really read was Craig and that was only because of how often the boy stared at him. Tweek was in the dark when it came to these two, all he could do was fear them and what they would do to him if he didn't comply.

"OH JESUS!" he yelped, scrambling backwards and curling up against the wall. "I DIDN'T DO IT!" He didn't even know what he hadn't done, Tweek just didn't want them to hurt him. He didn't know if they would but they were friends with Cartman and they'd never stopped him. Twitching hard, he shivered and stared at his thermos, which was still in Kyle's grasp.

"No dude," Kyle said with a sigh of exasperation. "You didn't do anything, but we need you to come with us, okay?" The boy looked impatient, but at least he was showing more emotion than Stan, who was still just staring at him with that slight frown on his face. "Can we not do this?"

"ACK! DO WHAT!?" Tweek demanded, unable to believe that they didn't want to hurt him. He'd done everything they wanted him to do, he'd agreed to fight Craig, mostly because of their goading, he'd never tried to fight back against any of them, why would they want him to do something now? "Where do you –ngh- w-want me to go?"

"Stop freaking out, we don't have time for this," Stan muttered, rolling his eyes. Without any care for how terrified Tweek was, the taller boy stepped forward and just grabbed Tweek's wrist and dragged him upright. "You want to fight Craig, right?"

"B-but that was supposed to be after school, right?" Tweek squeaked, squeezing his eyes shut against the too-hard grip of Stan's hand. He didn't dare fight the hold, he just let himself be dragged along. "OH GOD! D-don't make me fight him now! I'm not ready!" His feet caught on one of the stairs and he felt himself going down. Not wanting to be pulled down himself, Stan let go of his wrist, letting Tweek fall face first into the school.

"You aren't fighting yet," Kyle explained, stepping around the fallen boy so he could stand beside Stan. "We're weighing you, okay? Come on, the Nurse is only out to lunch for another ten minutes. You're going so slowly."

Struggling to get to his feet, even as his body protested him, Tweek shuffled upright and managed to avoid Stan grabbing his arm again. "JESUS OKAY! I'LL COME!" Following their clipped pace, Tweek nervously walked after Stan and Kyle, who were arguing about something. They're probably planning how to kill me. Oh god, what if Craig is waiting for me and they're going to have me fight him now anyway?! It's too much pressure!

As he got a bit closer, he managed to make out what they were saying, not that it made him feel any better. "Dude," Kyle was saying, still waving around Tweek's precious thermos, probably because he'd forgotten he even had it. "I'm telling you, he's always staring at him. There's no way that he's going to actually do it. It'll be an easy fight."

"I mean, Tweek is pretty strong, isn't he?" Stan agreed, keeping perfect step with Kyle. It was almost mesmerizing to watch, the way the two of them instinctively matched their pace with each other, walking in sync like they'd practiced it. "Remember that time he ran through that glass door? He was crazy!"

Tweek shivered at that memory. It had been in third grade and if it weren't for the coat that he'd happened to be wearing that day, his arms would have been torn to shreds. As it was, he still had several scars on his palms and his thighs from the mess that had resulted. Of course people remember it, people don't just forget things like that. He'd stayed at home for a week afterward with orders to get looked at, but his parents had forgotten to get him to a psychologist and so in the end, he'd just gone back to school, nothing fixed and nothing changed.

"It doesn't matter, what matters is Craig isn't going to fight back," Kyle argued, his voice full of that logical tone that he always got when he was explaining something that he thought was entirely self-evident. "As long as Tweek doesn't freak out, he's got this."

Craig might not fight back?! No, they were wrong! Of course Craig was going to fight, he hated Tweek, that was the whole point! He'd said a bunch of mean things and that's why Tweek had to fight him. Because Craig wanted to fight. What were they talking about, him not fighting? Just because Craig stared at him didn't mean that he wouldn't fight back and hard.

If he doesn't fight me, I'm not going to fight him!

"But that's not exactly a fight," Stan pointed out, waving the arm that wasn't almost constantly bumping against Kyle's in that weird way of theirs that Tweek never failed to notice when the two of them walked next to each other. "Craig needs to fight him, otherwise we haven't proved anything. Look, if Craig gets angry enough, he'll fight, plain and simple."

"Whatever dude," Kyle muttered, clearly done trying to convince Stan otherwise. Whimpering softly, Tweek fell back a few paces and tried to understand what they'd just said. Nothing was making sense anymore! Why were they so excited about the two of them fighting? Why was everyone so into this!? It didn't make any sense, especially when most of the time, Craig didn't seem to like broadcasting his fights. He just did, he didn't turn it into a big deal.

Now, it felt like the whole school knew and it made Tweek feel sick to his stomach.

"Come on Tweek, we just need to get your weight," Stan told him, ushering him into the nurse's office. Glancing over at his thermos, which Kyle held between his hands, Tweek twitched hard to the side and asked, "D-do I have to take my shoes off or anything?"

"Nah, don't bother," Kyle assured him, watching as Stan pulled out the nurse's cheap bathroom scale that she'd had for goodness knew how long. "I don't think Craig did. Did he?" Stan looked up at Kyle and thought for a moment before shrugging and making sure Tweek was positioned in front of the scale.

"Don't think so. Whatever, just step on the scale Tweek." Doing as he was bid, Tweek let out a small, involuntary noise before stepping onto the scale and waiting while the other two boys took down his weight. It was made difficult because he couldn't stand still for more than a second or two, but finally Kyle all but pushed him off of it and waited for Stan to put it away before heading towards the door.

"C-can I go now?" Tweek asked nervously, unable to focus on Kyle's face or anything for that matter. What if we get caught?! THAT'S TOO MUCH PRESSURE! But he didn't want to scream right now, even though he felt like doing it anyway. He just wanted to get out of there!

But apparently, he wasn't going to get away that easily. Stan shook his head, that frown reappearing on his face. "No way dude, we have to get you to the cafeteria. You want to fight Craig, right? Well you need to listen to us or it's not going to happen." Good, Tweek wanted to yell. I don't want to fight him! Except when he looked at Stan and Kyle, he felt something in him duck and run for cover. Mute, Tweek nodded.

"Good," Kyle commented before exiting the nurse's office, leading them towards the cafeteria, Stan back to walking at his side. All Tweek could do was follow and pray he survived.

The moment they stepped into the large, fluorescently lit room, Tweek felt his blood run cold. Instantly, all he wanted to do was flee. Everyone in the grade was there, all gathered around a table that had been pushed almost against the wall so it served as a podium of sorts. All the other tables had been pushed out of the way to make room for the spectacle. Above the table hung a banner.

In big letters, it proclaimed TWEEK VS. CRAIG. Tweek was pretty sure he was going to pass out.

Eyes finally traveling over the people already seated at the table, Tweek felt his heart stop. There he was, his face an impassive mask of unfeeling. The moment they stepped through the door, Craig's eyes traveled towards Tweek and they fixed there, intense, unmoving. Tweek couldn't look away.

Craig didn't look as upset as he had earlier, if anything, the moment he made eye contact with Tweek, some of the tension leaked out of his shoulders. His expression didn't soften, Craig's face didn't move, but Tweek could almost feel the stab of regret that ran through the Noirette in that moment. But then it was over and he was being ushered around the crowd of kids, towards the makeshift podium. Did that really happen? Am I imagining things? He still wants to kill me, right? That's what this is all about, that's why he's here. He's been upset all morning!

Sliding in beside Cartman, Kyle didn't bother to meet the fat boy's gaze as he stiffly leaned over and conferred with him before leaning away quickly and saying something to Stan, who had seated Tweek between them. Nodding, Stan faced the gathered kids and addressed them, almost like an announcer would.

"Okay, so, just to set the record straight here, the fight will be happening out by the tetherball poll at 3:30." Tweek shivered and twitched in his seat. That's how long he had till he died. That's how long he had to reflect on how miserable and pathetic his existence had truly had been. Noticing that Kyle had finally set down his thermos, Tweek yearned to reach for it but didn't dare. Not when it was so close to Cartman.

He could feel Craig's eyes burning into him but he couldn't meet them, he just fixed his attention over the heads of the other students and tried to tune it all out as Stan continued. "Tweek just weighed in at 45 pounds, Craig at 48." Tweek shivered. There wasn't as much of a difference between him and Craig as he'd expected, but it was still there, in addition to the height difference which was staggering. This isn't a fair fight!

But since when had he had an opinion?

From the crowd, a kid Tweek recognized instantly as Clyde, one of Craig's closest friends, raised his hand. "Uh, how long do you expect the fight to last?" A few seconds? How long do you think it's going to take him to kill me?! What if Craig drew it out though, what if he wanted to make Tweek suffer?

Unable to help himself, Tweek looked over at Craig. The boy wasn't facing him anymore, he was instead looking at Clyde with a blank expression. As if he was confused, the Noirette slowly opened his mouth and said, "I- Uh…"

Cartman covered his mouth swiftly with one of his large hands. With a smarmy smirk, the boy said, "However long Craig wants it to last." Tweek slammed a hand over his own mouth to stop himself from screaming. As if drawn by the sudden movement, Craig's eyes looked over Cartman's arm and over at Tweek. Trapped in those blue eyes, Tweek shivered and bit down on his lip hard enough to draw blood.

As all the kids laughed, Cartman pulled his hand away, seemingly assured of Craig's continued silence.

"Look, make no mistake," Cartman continued, oblivious to where Craig's attention had gone. "Craig has been ready for this fight since day one. He doesn't even view it as a challenge." Tweek searched Craig's gaze for confirmation of this fact but all he found was that unending calm, that utter flatness. But still he narrowed his eyes, trying to understand what the boy was thinking.

Then suddenly, Craig's eyebrows fell and Tweek saw it. He's not ready, is he? OH god, neither of us are ready for this! HE'S SUPPOSED TO HATE ME WHY DOES HE KEEP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!? His head felt like it was about to explode. But Craig's expression didn't change, he just stared at Tweek like he wanted to speak but couldn't.

"He'll view it as a challenge when he's getting his ass kicked!" Kyle announced, glaring at Cartman in anger. No, just shut up! Tweek wasn't even sure what he was supposed to do. He couldn't tell if Craig was angry at him or not and every time the other boys talked about him fighting Craig, Tweek felt more and more trapped.

Cupping a hand to his ear mockingly, Cartman crooned, "Huh, did you hear that?" His words only seemed to piss Kyle off more. Tweek hated it, he just wanted Cartman to stop. "It sounds like some diarrhea coming out of someone's mouth or something."

Furious, Kyle shouted, "SHUT UP FATASS!"

Whipping around, Cartman growled, "Don't call me fat, you son of a bitch!" Without even a moment's pause, the larger boy tackled Kyle, knocking him to the ground. As Cartman started punching at Kyle's face, Stan leapt up and ran to his friend's defense, delivering a hard kick to Cartman's gut.

With an easy shrug that seemed to be directed at the audience gathered before them, Kenny slid his legs around and jumped into the fight as well, tackling Stan and driving him away from Cartman. As they fought, Tweek found himself tangling his hands in his hair and pulling hard, the anger surrounding him driving him insane.

But then Craig caught his eyes again. As the boy stared at him coolly, that regretful look gone like it had never existed, Tweek found himself able to breathe again. Usually that gaze would have stressed him out more but at that moment, Tweek found himself releasing his hair and just twitching hard as his heart raced in his ears. I- I don't get it.

From the crowd, Clyde unhelpfully observed, "Wow. Tweek and Craig really hate each other, huh?" Grinning, he announced, "This should be a good fight!" As if snapped back to earth by his friend's voice, Craig looked away from Tweek. Before the blond could even blink, Craig's hand shot out and he grabbed Tweek's thermos before slipping off the bench and walking out of the cafeteria.

WHAT THE HELL!? Feeling his panic welling up again just as quickly as it had gone, Tweek scrambled to get off of the bench, confusion and anger in his blood. What an asshole! He knows I need that! After everything, this Tweek realized, was irrefutable proof that Craig hated him.

It wasn't enough to simply steal what little peace of mind he had, no, Craig had to take the one thing that could partially calm Tweek down. Now who knows what he's done with it! Oh god, I have to get out of here! Shaking harder than he had been through any of the other stressful events of the day, Tweek blindly pushed his way out of the cafeteria and slammed the door behind him, wishing he could just scream.

"Hey, Tweek."

He did scream. "GOD! FUCK! AHHHGH!" Covering his ears, Tweek crouched against the door, trembling uncontrollably.

As the owner of that pair of long legs pushed off of the lockers, Tweek watched and cowered, terrified. He knew those dark pants, those old sneakers that had seen better years. Looking up ever so slowly, terrified of what was going to happen to him, the blond let his eyes travel over that blue hoodie, aged yet somehow better in its age. Over those large, strong hands that held a familiar silver thermos, its usual gigantism dwarfed by the person holding it.

Finally, Tweek's eyes found that face. Each feature committed to memory. Like he couldn't even help himself.

Tugging down the edge of his old chullo with his free hand, Craig stared down at Tweek impassively, just like always. There was no anger there, but there was no emotion either. He just stared at him, like he was waiting for Tweek to make the first move. When all the boy did was twitch and tremble, Craig almost sighed.

"Here." He tossed the thermos at Tweek, who by some miracle, managed to reach out and catch it. Its minute warmth and familiar weight made some of his trembling slow. "They were about to knock it off the table," Craig said, by way of explanation, his eyes never leaving Tweek's. Always so unnervingly steady and blue. "It would have fallen."

Staring at Craig in badly concealed wonder, Tweek quickly opened the thing and took several large gulps of the steaming liquid inside, relishing the taste of coffee as it slid down his throat and warmed his gut. Shutting it before he managed to spill it everywhere, Tweek muttered, "T-Thanks." Meeting his eyes once more, Tweek wanted desperately to open his mouth and ask the questions just waiting on his tongue. Do you actually want to fight? Do you hate me? Did you really say all those horrible things about me or were they making them up?

Are you really as scary as I've always thought you were?

But he couldn't, and after a second of silence, Craig flipped him off and said, "See you this afternoon," before walking away, hands in his pockets, completely calm.

All Tweek wanted to do was scream.