Chapter Two- Phantom

Tweek did not know the time his olive eyes had creaked open and searched the askew view in front of him. His neck had craned in an unusual position as he gazed in uneasiness at the horizontal shelf packed with cheap junk food. Blinking multiple times, he attempted to conjure up the memory of how he had achieved such an awkward position.

It didn't take long for the thoughts to recall themselves to his exhausted mind. He remembered scraps mostly. The sirens, the Infectious, the purple blur of Token's shirt as he was shoved into the mini-van, Red, Kenny's sobbing, the silence, the two Infectious in the gas station…

Craig.

Tweek's eyes snapped wide open and he shot upwards by an unwelcomed jolt to his spinal cord. He glances around, suddenly dazed by the abrupt action. The makeshift sleeping quarters that surround him are now abandoned of people. As his eyes coordinate again, his ears pick up a conversation. Staggering onto his feet clumsily, he swipes his thin, brown jacket off of the floor. He realizes that, on top of being a light warmth to his midsection, it was also a cushion for his head from whatever ungodly hour he went to sleep at up until his uneasy awakening.

Taking a lousy glance at his worn out wristwatch he shambled forward. It was seven thirty one AM, not too of an early or late rise. He peeked his head out of the side of the aisle and tried to focus his morning vision on two ajar figures. As soon as his eyes had settled he realized it was Stan and Kenny standing beside the counter. Kenny seemed to be explaining something quietly as Stan fiddled with something that jingled with his finger movements. Kenny fell silent when he saw Tweek step out of the aisle and approach them slowly.

Kenny nudged Stan, who was facing the other way to alert him of Tweek's presence. The raven haired boy twisted his feet around, body catching up shortly so that his sapphire orbs laid on Tweek as the blonde meekly shuffled towards them. As the distance between them grew smaller, the shuddering teen realized that the shiny chain in Stan's had was actually a ring of keys. His eyebrows had knitted in confusion as he was finally upon the two.

"Kyle's sick," Stan had blurted as soon as Tweek stood before them.

Tweek blinked, his tired mind not processing Stan's words immediately. In a groggy voice, he returned, "Where is everyone?" then made an unsettled noise with his tongue.

Kenny glared at Stan, but answered Tweek's question with an obviously forced smile. This made Tweek wonder how the boy was still standing after suffering the loss of his sister, "They're in the back of the store trying to find any medications for Kyle."

"Then where's Kyle?" Tweek pressed on.

Kenny pointed to the key ring in Stan's hand, "Apparently, Kyle had found the key off of the employee when they cleaned them up yesterday, and it unlocks the Ford in the parking lot. Butters looked over the other body, but we still can't get into the other car."

"Yeah, the Subaru," Stan finished.

Tweek blinked again, "Okay but," another noise came from his mouth, "Where's Kyle?"

Realization seemed to dawn upon the other two boys' faces, "Oh," Kenny spoke, "He's sleeping in the Ford. Butters is out there with him. It's only a cold, so he just needs to rest."

"Yeah, Kyle gets sick all the time," Stan reassured, though Tweek could tell the assurance was more to himself than to either of the other boys.

"But we still want to get him some sort of medicine," Kenny added quickly.

Tweek nodded shakily, but before he could question further Token and Cartman had emerged from an aisle behind the trio.

"Sorry guys we looked but there's nothing in there that the Jew could use," Cartman said, crossing his arms in almost a defiant way.

"Actually, only I looked," Token growled, glaring poison at the fatter boy, then finished, "But yeah, there's no kinds of medicine in there."

Stan let out an irritated growl, staring at the ground for a moment as if he was processing the unfortunate news. After a minute or two of this pregnant silence, Stan changed his thoughtful gaze from the floor to Kenny's sky blue eyes, "We should go find some."

A blanket of confusion had wrapped itself around Tweek's small body, clutching him with all its force, "What?"

"We're all bound to get sick up here at one point anyways, we should go down into one of those rich people houses in the valley," Stan explained in one heaved breath.

It seemed that the pausing silences would have their grasp on the group all day once again, and Tweek wondered if it would ever lift itself from them.

"That's true," Token's voice came in a tone just above a whisper, then cleared his throat, "I mean, maybe we should just go get medicine? Even though Kyle isn't deadly sick, we don't know what will happen next."

"I suppose it's better to be safe than sorry," Cartman spoke, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Although unanimous thoughts knew that he wasn't really going to assist in the heist at all.

"Stan, Token and I will go," Kenny decided.

The whole group changed their gaze to the dirty blonde, "What? What happens if we get attacked here?" Tweek asked worriedly, making strange noises and tugging on his worn locks.

"We haven't gotten attacked all night so," Token itched at his cheek, thinking for a moment, "Maybe you guys should wait in the van, in case you need to drive away."

"You should be okay," Stan nodded, though his voice conveyed uncertainty.

"We obviously won't, seeing as I'm the only one who can put up a fight in this fucking shitstorm," Eric boasted with empty words.

Tweek rolled his eyes, but the group allowed Cartman to believe his lie anyways.

An electronic bell chimed above their heads and all eyes slid to the front door. Butters was standing there, rubbing his knuckles together silently out of nervous habit; something Tweek wish he had adapted over his clumsiness.

"Hey, uh, fellas," Butters meek voice reached them. The blonde shuffled over to them without further explanation.

"Is everything okay?" Stan asked slowly with a brow raised.

"Oh, uh, yeah! Kyle just told me to come back in here, because he didn't want me to catch his sickness and all," Butters stuttered.

Stan was quiet for a moment, then he said, "I have to go talk to him."

Tweek watched Stan's legs as they took him out of the store and outside. Kyle had already stepped out of the car, and even at such a distance Kyle looked much paler than he had already been the day before. Tweek wondered if the white shade of skin was genetic or if the ginger just didn't receive enough sun to tan. Unlike the day before, which was quite sunny, a blanket of clouds had rolled over the rocky countryside, seemingly an occurrence that happened overnight.

The redhead was leaning against the truck almost in a weak fashion, looking tired and perhaps even thinner than Tweek had first perceived. Stan had spoken by the time Tweek realized this. Kyle appeared to regain some of his energy because he shot something back at his friend about medicine. The duo exchanged some heated words until the raven haired teen had retorted something, and the redhead had fallen silent.

"God, look at those two fags," Tweek heard Cartman mutter under his breath from beside him. He immediately tensed up at the language, his mind recalling the slander Craig and him had received in the sixth grade. Which was coincidentally around the time the town came to its senses and all the strange happenings ceased occurring.

Also surrounding the time Craig had ended the play relationship.

The door had opened before Tweek could process much else and a defeated Kyle had walked inside. He was obviously upset, but even Cartman didn't mention anything on his distraught expression, "Token, Kenny, Stan's waiting for you outside. He said to bring the clubs."

Both teens didn't make a sound, but nodded to the redhead as the stalked away from the group and disappeared into the aisle that they had made into their sleeping space. They came back out not much of a moment later. Token had approached Tweek and wrapped his arms around the blonde in a tender hug. Tweek, for an unapparent reason, felt safe suddenly and briskly hugged the taller teen back. With the cold metal of a large club pressed against his back, he felt his existence validate itself again.

This strange safe feeling had left as abruptly as it had appeared, Token pulling away from Tweek and striding out of the gas station. Kenny followed in pursuit and watched as the two step inside the large truck. Stan was driving again, the blond beside him in the passenger seat and Token in the back. The car started with a smooth hum and Stan backed up.

"So," Butters began, pacing back and forth in front of Tweek and Cartman. Kyle and Butters had been watching the security footage. But eventually the redhead had gotten up to sleep in the aisle. It an hour since then and Stan, Token and Kenny had been gone for three. In that time Butters had continued watching footage of the day before on the bulky computer that hummed behind the cash register. Tweek had been watching the dead road and Cartman had been doing the only thing he knew how which was shoving his face full of greasy chips.

Tweek inquired wordlessly how long their stock would last with the fat boy around.

As soon as one o'clock was displayed on the digital clock that hung above the glass door frame; Tweek had grown bored of the watch and decided it was Cartman's turn to take view of the lifeless road. When he came into the gas station, however, his demand of Eric's help was put on a short hiatus as Butters began explaining what had happened to the two Infectious that tainted the station no more than twenty four hours prior.

"It seems that the one that screamed had uh, driven up here to get help from the employee," Butters explained, blue eyes meeting Tweek's wide ones.

Cartman let out a fake yawn, "This is boring, Butters. I already know what happened."

Butters was immediately offended, "Well then, Eric, you can excuse yourself and I can explain to Tweek myself."

"Actually," Tweek took a sharp breath in, then twitched, "I was wondering if you could take up watch?"

Cartman blinked, staring at Tweek as if he had grown a second head, then burst out laughing, "You're… You're joking, right?"

Tweek's eyes narrowed in rage, "No! Why the hell would I joke about that!?"

Cartman's face fell into a stern seriousness, "Because, there is no way in hell that I'm going out there to watch for brainless zombies. That was your job."

"Well," Butters exerted, "Eric, since you already know what's going on in here, maybe you should go find out what's, uh, what's going on out there!"

"But that's Tweek's fucking job!" Cartman insisted, voice raised.

"Yeah, but I've already been out there for two hours," Tweek spat at the fat boy.

Cartman stared at Tweek's angry face, then looked to Butters only to find that he was just as upset, "Fine, fine," he stood up begrudgingly, "I'll be the mature one and take up the stupid watch."

The two blondes said nothing as their eyes followed Eric's pudgy body waddle towards the door. Just before he stepped out, he turned around in the open doorway, "You'll regret this, though," and then he left, allowing the door to shut slowly after his dramatic exit.

Tweek could feel the tension in the store seep into the ground and disappear. He looked up to find Butters staring at the doorway, "They've been gone an awful long time, haven't they?"

Tweek swallowed harshly, thinking of what could possibly be taking them so long, "Yeah," another noise escaped him, "They have I guess."

"I told him not to go," Kyle had stepped out of the chip aisle and taken a seat next to Tweek.

"What do you mean?" Butters asked, staring at Kyle now.

Kyle shrugged weakly, "I told him that he shouldn't go. That we don't know what we're up against. That I'd be fine again by tomorrow."

"And what did he say?" Butters urged quietly.

"That he didn't want to lose me," Kyle whispered without skipping a beat. The sudden upturn of emotion from both Stan and Kyle made Tweek question their relationship. He knew they were best friends, but suddenly the blonde wasn't certain if that was the case.

Before he could voice his thoughts into a legible question, Butters spoke, "Well, we all care about you a lot, Kyle."

The redhead looked thoughtful, then returned, "Thanks," a quick pause, "Do we know what was up with those zom-" a much longer pause followed by a glance at Tweek; whom had been silent throughout the exchange, "Infectious, that were here yesterday?"

Julian Louis had been euphoric all day. With one hand on the wheel and the other on the luscious bouquet of assorted roses that sad idly on the seat next to him. Today was the day. He was going to change his stunning girlfriend into his just as beautiful fiance. He also knew that in the not-so distant future, she would be his wife.

On top of getting a promotion at work on that sunny day, he had also caught a face smacking deal when he bought the glamorous engagement ring. His eyes were lifted away from the gloomy roads to the benevolent sky all in one lucky afternoon. And the rest of the evening was all planned out; he would meet his to-be fiance at her work with the bouquet as a pleasant surprise, hook his arm with hers and lead them out to the shiny new Mustang (that was waiting for him in the dealership in Denver) he had purchased the previous day. The nicest restaurant he could find had a reserved seat for just his lover and himself. The seat picked out with the perfect view of nighttime Denver. After a fantastic meal and the breathtaking scenery that surrounded both the interior and exterior of their location, the couple would stroll around the wealthier side of the city. Then, as they stood on the Millennium Bridge that overlooked the city, he would propose. She would be, of course, ecstatic. Julian knew she would be, she was just as crazy about him as he was for her.

It was their happily ever after, after all.

His aloof attitude was put on a momentary halt, however, and was replaced by sincere confusion and worriment. Up ahead on the winding Colorado road, his hickory eyes spotted a figure. As the distance from his navy Subaru and the figure shortened Julian could make out its actions. It was definitely a person, but they were hunched over and spilling a murky orange liquid from their mouth. The vehicle rolled to a stop beside the person, whose puking had not ceased. The tinted window came down with an electronic buzz as Julian stared at the other skeptically.

"Hey buddy, you okay?" He asked.

There was no response, but the figure halted vomiting and turned halfway towards Julian, still hunched over with tangerine vomit dribbling down its chin. By the time Julian noticed its coral black eyes he had already stepped out of the car and the person had stumbled over to him. It wasn't very interested in him, per say, but as it leaned against Julian's fearful form it had taken a certain liking to its human companion.

Well, not Julian; the human part.

Julian yelped loudly in pain as the monster sunk its teeth deep into his neck flesh. Carnival red blood trickled down his collar bone and seeped into his blue and white flannel shirt. The creature, Julian quickly realized, was certainly not human. It stumbled backwards when he shoved it harshly. It lost its footing within the next second, tumbling down the hillside that sloped against the road.

With a hand flying up and pressing itself onto his new wound, Julian let out a distressed groan. He wasn't completely sure was had happened. All thoughts mulled over with the epitome of all things terrifying. The thing just bit him, for chrissakes! How was one supposed to react when someone (or something) bites them!? There was no way he was going to travel to Denver in the immediate minute, he would bleed out long before he got there.

Or maybe he wouldn't, but he wasn't really willing to take any more risks at the moment.

Shambling back into his navy Subaru, Julian whined aloud as the pain of the wound settled into a tight sting. He was terrified of what doom that bite might caused and he cursed himself for not listening to his lover when she advised him to carry a first aid in his car. Another groan escaped him as he slid into the front seat, his ecstatic mood shattered by the turn of events.

The little Subaru made an awkward u-turn just as the monster had finished climbing up the steep hillside. Julian had been long gone before that fact could mean anything to him. There was a gas station he had taken a pit stop at no more than fifteen minutes ago, if he went fast enough he'd get there in ten.

As he drove along, his fingers twitched against the steering wheel involuntarily. It was as if they were going into a spasm. He felt himself grow antsy and restless. An odd craving churned itself around in his throat, and he licked his suddenly dry lips in a hungrily fashion. He tried to focus on the road before him, but he found his eyes lingering on his surroundings instead; only succeeding in concern when he found himself turning off the highway and onto the road that wound up to the Conoco.

He managed to park in the lot lopsidedly, but by that time he felt control of his body slipping away from him. He stumbled into the gas station. The first thing he noticed, which was oddly because Julian had smelled him, was the pale yet fit employee who was sitting dully behind the counter that was to his right. The employee was flipping through what Julian perceived as a pornographic magazine. The employee's umber eyes slid up from the porn slowly to Julian standing before him, then went back down to pamphlet. It wasn't until five seconds later that it seemed to click with the employee that Julian was losing a considerable amount of blood with each passing moment.

He shot up in his chair, and his mouth went to ask the only question logical, "What the hell happened to you?!"

Or maybe he would've asked if his mouth wasn't so dry. He didn't understand why, but he was afraid of Julian- terrified even. The gooey crescent that laid on Julian's neck curve had chilled him to the bone, so much in fact that he found himself incapable of speech.

Julian had been tasting the iron in his mouth long before he coughed out, "Help."

That was the dialogue that assisted the employee focus more directly on Julian's state than his bite. This was only another person after all, there was no need to be so afraid, "What happened to you?" the words finally choked out, much weaker than the worker had wanted them to be.

"Some fucker bit me!" Julian growled loudly, shocked out how much anger had swelled inside of him in the past minute.

"Um," the employee blinked, unsure how to respond, "I, uh, have a first aid in the back. Follow me please, sir," the sentence was fumbled and the worker had stuttered at almost every word, but Julian comprehended it and trailed behind him.

The door to the storage room had not even been breached before Julian found himself unable to resist the urge to maul the employee. It was as if all self control had slithered from his grasp and his mind went under. He wanted to eat the worker alive. Then the primitive identity slid abruptly over the sophisticated one, and he reached forward and tugged the employee back.

Before he could taste the sweet, crispy flesh of the worker's arm muscle, the human had landed a swift kick on Julian's midsection. Before the kick sent him backwards, Julian had managed to scrape at the worker's right eye with his flailing hand. But even in his cannibalistic form he was still clumsy and had fallen down with a shriek. He crawled forward, desperate for the warm blood that surged under the worker's thick skin.

The employee being screaming in pain as his eye hung from the thin of its optic nerve. He tried desperately to focus on Julian's approaching form, but found that impossible. He just couldn't find mind settling on anything other than his ajar eyeball.

As soon as Julian had a firm grasp on the worker's calf it was over. The employee tried to stumble backwards and jerk his leg away but only succeeded in falling backwards. He screeched loudly, now kicking frantically at Julian's approaching jaw. This proved futile as well, because in his haste and now poor eyesight his aim was far too inaccurate for the kicks to even graze Julian.

When Julian finally sank his teeth in the calf muscle, however, he found himself no longer interested in the worker. He certainly enjoyed the taste of the flesh that got stuck between his teeth, but he no longer wanted the worker's. He released the leg and stumbled up, licking his chops of the dark blood that had surrounded his lips. The man he had just bit looked up at him in terror as what was left of Julian shambled away. He managed look down at his oozing ankle, and his screaming picked up in pitch.

He had shut himself into the store room in an attempt to compose himself. One hand rested on his bloodied cheek and the other clutched the plastic name tag that was pinned to his polyester shirt. "Martin," was what it read, but his real name was Samuel. The idea of random strangers who came to the gas station knowing his true identity was absurd to Sam. Maybe if he knew that a bite to the calf would be the death of him, he would have been warmer to the idea. Perhaps that way more people would know him and he wouldn't be forgotten.

The thought of losing grip on life terrified Sam, so he pushed the idea to the back of his mind. He tried to convince himself that the thing outside the door was not a zombie, and instead someone who was just drugged out of their mind.

Within four minutes of crouching in the closet, he began to shake and twitch involuntarily. Sam thought at first that perhaps it was only the fear that was the cause of his rattling, but as another minute passed he had shot up from his position. He could not sit still for another moment, taming his restlessness by pacing around the room mindlessly. Sam found condolence in glaring with his one eye at the

Within two minutes of uncoordinated wander, he found himself craving something.

Tweek was doubtful that the story was one hundred percent true, but he was in no place to argue with Kyle and Butters' tale. Butters provided the plot while Kyle explained the facts, which was the only thing that mattered at the moment. But he allowed Butters to explain "Julian"'s backstory, because apparently there were wilted roses and an engagement ring in the Subaru. But that's all they could see beyond the tinted window.

"So, it took twelve minutes for the poor worker to turn?" Butters asked Kyle as soon as the redhead finished the story.

"That's what the time stamp said, remember?" Kyle shrugged before letting out a deep cough.

Tweek stared at Kyle as he finished his fit, but before he could ask of his friend's well being the front door had burst open.

"You guys!" Cartman heaved through labored breathing, "You guys! You guys!"

"What is it, Fatass?" Kyle shot up at Eric, but a bit of worry had slipped from his otherwise harsh tone.

"There's a car guys! Its coming up the hill! You guys have to come and see!" The fat boy exclaimed, fists clenched and a dire expression displayed against his soft features.

Kyle was the first to his feet, followed by Tweek and Butters. Snatching their clubs from the ground, they all rushed out the door in an organized panic. They all ran to the end of the parking lot, eyes searching the road futilely for any sign of life.

"Where is it?" Tweek asked sharply, his eyebrows knitted in bafflement.

Kyle's head shot around to hone in on a noise behind then. Tweek realized that Cartman had not followed them outside. The redhead beside him let out an angered growl, but choked out a cough halfway through it. His long, thin legs strode quickly back across the asphalt and towards the gas station. Tweek took one last unsteady look at Butters, then the road, before following behind Kyle.

"Let us in, Fatass!" Kyle demanded, banging on the glass entrance to the station with his fist.

Cartman was inside with a smug grin etched into his lips, twirling a key ring around on his fingers, "Why the fuck should I?"

Another growl had escaped Kyle's lips, "Why the fuck would you lock us out?!"

"Well, yesterday you viciously attacked me. Which is okay, because I'd expect that from a filthy Jew like you," Cartman began counting on his fingers, "Then Tweek pinned the watch job on me even though he was- and still is- perfectly capable of doing it himself. And maybe I just hate Butters."

Kyle was fuming with anger, his knuckles turning white as he clutched his club in his fist. Tweek was worried that, if he did lose his temper, he was going to bash in the windows followed by Cartman's face. But instead, the redhead had a different idea. Tweek wasn't sure why he and Butters were not speaking, but they remained silent as Kyle lifted the club high above his head, then charged at the Subaru. He took a sharp hit to the passenger window, successfully shattering it into millions of glass shards.

Tweek and Butters looked to their friend in horror as he reached into the barren opening and unlocked the door. He swung it open quickly and climbed inside. Slamming the door harshly behind him, Kyle climbed into the back seat and didn't return into their view again for another hour.

The rain came fawning to the gas station by noon. Butters, Tweek and Kyle were all huddled up underneath the small overhang of roof next to a large ice machine. Butters stared idly at the ground, Kyle looked onward to the fogged mountains that neighbored the gas station's with a focused expression. Tweek was not like them, he wasn't thinking carelessly or trying to figure something out, but instead he looked to the dark clouds that draped over their heads.

Murky puddles had begun to form at the curb of the sidewalk, but they were not deep enough to prove as an apparent conflict and their knees were tucked in anyways so nobody was getting soaked. A clap of thunder rolled over the clouds and crevices of the hills as it echoed through the Colorado terrain. Butters and Tweek both jumped at the noise, but Kyle looked nonchalant.

"Where could they be?" Kyle asked, brows furrowed.

"Dead," Cartman answered, stepping his body halfway out of the warm gas station.

Kyle's forest eyes flicked away from the wooded mountain side and to Cartman, "Finally got lonely in there, Fatass?"

"I was going to extend an invitation to you three to come inside again, but now I don't think I will," the pudgy teen retorted smugly, his hands inside a greasy bag of chips again.

Kyle fell silent, Tweek assumed that he had seen no point in further argument.

"You think they're dead?" Tweek asked, glancing up at Cartman cautiously.

A cat-like grin spread across Eric's lips, littered with chip debris, "It seemed like the mute finally learned to speak."

Tweek blinked, trying to decide if the fatter teen was teasing or not. Was that some sort of joke or was Cartman just ripping on him for being quiet throughout the tragedy? He was going to inquire, however his voice was caught in his voice as he remembered the old nickname. He was walking down the hallway of South Park's junior high. It was only a week after Craig had ended their little play relationship and moved on to a girl, Heidi Turner.

Heidi was pretty, nice and smart. Tweek supposed that's why- one day after Craig told him that he didn't have any real feelings for Tweek and that there was no longer a need for a relationship built on facade- it stung so harshly. He couldn't even begin to compare to Heidi's status.

After that he only talked to a select few, and even those were just scraps. What hurt the most was that he had put on a mask of happiness whenever Craig leaned down and kissed Heidi, whenever the two held hands only three yards in front of Tweek, or the times where Craig would ask her where she wanted to eat or if they wanted to go to an amusement park instead.

And Tweek would watch, his insides crumbling onto themselves as he told Heidi how cute her and Craig were and to Craig that he was happy that their little affair was over. Token knew too, how it killed him inside to watch as the love of his life was snatched away by a pretty, smart and caring girl who was too friendly to hate.

Oh, but how Tweek loathed Heidi. There were days where he would happily murder her in cold blood if it meant to get another chance with his raven-haired knight who changed his life for the better. He would like to believe that he helped Craig's life, too, but knew deep inside that that was all Heidi's doing. His chest ached as he lay awake on restless nights, which overtook the majority of Tweek's life. He'd place a hand upon where his blood pulsed through his chest, pumping crushed dreams and soiled hope through his tired veins.

And so was that, he confided in the keen ear Token used to listen to Tweek's story of dismay. He knew, Tweek knew, Craig knew, it was a triangle of lies and love. It was poetic, almost. Craig must have sensed Tweek's misery because a day wouldn't pass where Craig did not inquire of his (fake) ex-boyfriend's well being. These simple questions of Tweek's emotions were the prime reason it was impossible for him to move on from the tender teen he claimed Craig to be.

He never spoke, never volunteered for questions or addressed problems vocally for the next year. It wasn't until high school, long after the nickname "Mute Mouse" had clung to Tweek's identity, that he was veered into the world of socialization and required groups that he began to gain his ability to speech. Which he never truly lost in the first place, but rather remained scarcely used.

To think he had nearly forgotten.

"How can you be so careless, Cartman?!" Kyle demanded for what felt to Tweek repeatedly. Olive eyes shredded harshly away from the sky to the angered redhead beside them, "We are in a goddamn apocalypse, with the looming threat that three of our closest friends might be mindless, brain-eating monsters and you're teasing Tweek for being quiet?!"

"Jesus Christ Jew, calm your tits I'm only trying to lighten the mood," Cartman crossed his arms defiantly, "And yes, Tweek, I do believe they are certainly dead because it has been five goddamn hours."

Tweek looked away from Eric and to the clouds again, trying to convince himself that there was a chance of their survival. Maybe they were just on an Infectious-killing roll and had cleared out twenty houses already. Perhaps they had grown lost but just found their way and were going to be back within a matter of minutes.

Maybe they forgot about Tweek and moved onto safer place.

Craig used to calm Tweek by convincing him of simpler things. You're missing multiple pairs of underwear? It wasn't gnomes, they were just lost in the laundry room. You're out of coffee? Don't worry, I'll just go downstairs and make you some more. Cartman's teasing you? It's just because he's insecure and needs someone to pick on, just ignore him and focus on me.

Zombies probably ate my brains out? Don't worry Tweek, I'll find you,

"I'm not mute," Tweek murmured, closing his eyes, "I'm just afraid."

"What was that, Mutey?" Cartman pressed forward, eyebrows raised in amusement.

"I'm not mute!" Tweek had finally snapped, all the gooey pressure from the situation finally breaking the thin threshold of his mind. But he wasn't giving Cartman any more material to bully him. He was quick to his feet before the flabbergasted teens around him could even begin to process his actions. Pointing a slender finger harshly against the fat boy's chest, he stared directly into Cartman's hazel eyes and thought briefly about how he appreciated Token's mocha ones much more than Eric's. "Listen Fatty," Tweek said sharply, "I'm not a mute, I've never been mute. That was something dumb you came up with because you needed an explanation why the only noises I ever made were because I was scared. You were so caught up in needing a way to tease me you didn't think for one second that something might actually be wrong with me!"

"Just because you were scared of my sudden silence you thought that teasing me into a depression would solve your problems! Our friends are dead, Cartman! Each one of them! They're all dead, and now we only have each other, and you're still treating us with such disrespect?!"

Tweek was out of breath, or he would've been anyways; if he had actually said all those things. All those words that long since needed to only be spoken, or yelled, whispered, maybe even conveyed through body language. No, they were not his words because he never breathed them out in the slightest transcribe. It was Craig's, his voice ushered in the back of Tweek's sore mind for him to attack the fat boy with his incredible vocabulary that no one ever suspected of him.

No, but instead he replied to Cartman, "I didn't say anything."

"Figures," Cartman scoffed, squinting at the rain which had heavily escalated as their conversation had gone by. The loud hammering of heavy drops drowned out the other boys' thoughts, too loud for them to think clearly without their attention drawing back to the pattering rain once again. But not Tweek, his mind was delve far too deep to find any distraction in the rain's presence. Instead, he confided his thoughts in a certain boy whom he could not shake from his consciousness.

Tweek remembered cloudy days like this. Rain was scarce in South Park because of it's chilly location in north Colorado. But on the rare warm days in the summer, rain pelted the town. He remembered waking up one June morning, twelve year old eyes meeting Craig's warm blue ones. He smiled at Tweek, mouth full of wires wrapped with navy bands. They laid in Tweek's bed for another minute grinning at each other. Tweek flashed his green braces because of the beautiful boy who lay next to him, while Craig was smiling for another reason. Tweek was sure it was the dribbling sound of rain that beat against his roof.

Craig had sat up, taking Tweek by the hand and running out of the room before his blonde companion could straighten himself. Feet barely touched the stairs as the giggling duo charged down the flight. The door was flung open as the two continued running, bare toes taking them along the wet asphalt and down the street. Their hysteric laughter echoed through the sleepy neighborhood. The new wrist watch that Craig had bought Tweek for his birthday clung to the smiling blonde's wrist, displaying that it was only seven in the morning.

They raced out of the cul de sac, Craig was spinning Tweek around and Tweek was far too euphoric to hear the rain or their dancing feet slapping against the asphalt or even the heart that was hammering in his throat and ears. All he perceived was Craig's smiling brace-face, his laughter that filled the air and his mind.

The two collapsed onto the concrete not long after, their faces a deep scarlet from ugly voice cracks and tiring laughs. Craig had made a joke and Tweek hadn't quite heard all of it but he laughed anyways because everything was funny and great. They're fit of laughter saw no end, shimmering eyes squinting up at the skies as their faces crinkled with snickers; blinking tightly whenever the heavy droplets of water found their way into the small of the boys' eyes.

Tweek blinked when he felt cool splatters of rain patter at his ankles softly. His tired eyes gazed down at his dirty pants and noticed he must've relaxed his body as he remembered the rainy day in South Park, five years before. His legs recoiled quickly back to his chest, right hand finding his left wrist. He rubbed the worn leather of the wristwatch that he had salvaged after all those years of fake relationships and painful heartache.

Looking up from his clothed knees, he withdrew his hand from his wrist. Delicate eyes glazed over the misty parking lot. He made out the fogged gas pumps to his left, the dented mini van next to the Subaru with a shattered window on his right. He gazed at the Ice machine that Kyle was leaning on, then to the red locks of hair that were sticking out of the Jew's ushanka, then to Butters sitting besides him, and finally found themselves looking back to the lot.

Directly in front of Tweek, he was sure, was the mountain that neighbored the one that lined up against the gas station's rear. It was invisible to the teen's eyes at the moment, the mist of the rain obscuring the rugged side lined with pine trees and remote shrubs. Tweek tried to imagine the rain drops dripping off the needles of the slender pines and falling gracefully to the ground. Attempting to see what insects might crawl upon the leaves of the shrubs, the woodland creatures that may cower underneath or inside the trees for cover from the heavy rain.

When that failed, he tried to conjure what the forest might look like if it wasn't raining. Tweek hoped to see fawns frolicking about the woods, birds chirping happily to one another, insects buzzing and scattering about the wildflowers and stray limbs that littered the forest floor. He imagined himself walking side by side with Craig, amongst the deer and birds, the insects and the flowers, feeling safe and warm in Craig's presence and Craig returned by feeling complete around Tweek. The lips and teeth that Craig used to speak would ask how Tweek's day was, and Tweek's voice returning the question after he answered. Craig would laugh and explain some absurd thing to Tweek that had happened; and then Tweek would laugh too and they would joke and stop to pet a deer or let a squirrel crawl up Craig and perch on his shoulder. Craig would take his hat off and pull it over Tweek's mop of blonde hair, tell him how happy he was and how much he loved and adored Tweek as a person. Then they would kiss and the squirrel would chatter happily before scrambling off Craig's form and onto a nearby pine.

A peaceful smile fell upon Tweek's face, the thoughts coming up as a mess only he could understand.

His aloof eyes found themselves peering across the lot. There, a silhouette of a figure stood. Tweek squinted, blinked, rubbed his eyes, but the shadow of a person still stood there. It- no, they- seemingly weren't doing anything. They weren't gesturing with their hands or arms, they weren't waving, walking, stumbling, shifting, they weren't even moving.

No, but they were doing something perhaps.

They were staring.

Tweek probably should've turned to Butters, or Kyle or even Cartman and asked if they were seeing the figure, or even anything beyond the lot. He probably should've freaked out, shrieked or shouted. He should've done some way to alert his friends of the person's presence. Should've made some sort of attempt to warn them for the overall safety of the group. Perhaps even try to get the attention of the lonesome person who stood an infinity away from him.

There were a lot of things Tweek should have, but did not, do.

But there was one thing that shouldn't even crossed his mind, that he never should have done.

And that was the one thing Tweek Tweke Tweak did do.

He stood up and ran towards the figure.

Tweek was, in no way, prepared for whatever may await him across the lot. He was disarmed, the rain was making it difficult for him to perceive anything in front of him, and he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was even real; let alone a conscious person. But he wouldn't have run unless he was confident that the figure was wearing a blue chullo hat.

As soon as he reached Craig he had leapt in the air, eyes wet with not only rain but also tears. Craig had extended his arms in a welcoming way, warm grin stretched across his lips and eyes wide with excitement. Tweek laughed as he threw himself onto Craig, ears deaf to the shouting of his friends behind him. He didn't care anyways, Craig was here after all.

But instead of feeling the strong arms wrapped tightly around him, instead of looking at the pristine sapphire eyes, instead of hearing the warm laughter that was suppose to emit around him; he felt the cold embrace of solid asphalt. All he could see was blurry specks of grass that had slithered up through cracks in the lot, and all he could hear was the shrill ringing in his ears.

Tweek woke up with a start; Kyle was shaking him furiously. His tired eyes blurred in and out of focus before finalizing on Kyle's red locks. His ushanka was off, and Tweek thought that all the red curls that were cluttered around his face made him look cute. He wondered if that was the reason Stan questioned his sexuality. Craig's hair certainly wasn't the reason Tweek had fallen for him, but it was a bonus feature that made his crush all the more pretty. No, Tweek had fallen for Craig because he was Craig.

Stan must've fallen for Kyle because he was Kyle.

Tweek had a dopey smile stretched across his face as he remembered how the fine raven hair of Craig's felt as he ran it through his shaking fingers. Craig would laugh as Tweek attempted to style his dark locks upwards, only for them to flutter back down when he released them. Then Craig wanted to fiddle with Tweek's own mane, but the blonde argued that there was no way that anyone could maneuver their fingers through his curls and Craig was no exception. Craig didn't seem to care much about Tweek's refusal, as he would reach up and fiddling with the golden strands anyways.

Tweek smiled at what he now regarded of nicer times.

Nicer times indeed.

His moment of euphoria, however, was shattered when he realized that Kyle was still present in front of his hazy eyes. Said olive hues jolted wide open only a second later, trying to get a tangible grasp on his surroundings. Cartman was standing in the corner of his eye, shouting for Tweek to get the fuck up. Butters was kneeling besides Kyle, a worried expression displayed on his red face that Tweek assumed was recently wet with tears. He shot up like a rocket, "What?! What's going on?! Oh god! Are there zombies?! Are we under attack?! Oh Jesus, are they inside?!" he demanded, fingers clasped tightly on Kyle's wrist.

"No! Have you even been listening?!" Kyle shouted angrily.

Tweek's face flushed in embarrassment. Had he enraged Kyle by accident? Was he asleep too long? If what Kyle was saying so vital, why didn't they wake Tweek up sooner? No, they would have. Was it because he leapt into nothing and knocked himself out? Because he kept seeing Craig appear out of nowhere?

"Someone's here!" Butters exclaimed in a much quieter tone than the other boys.

Tweek's eyes widened, "Oh Jesus, who is it?!"

"Like hell we know!" Cartman shouted.

"They pulled up in a black truck!" Kyle exclaimed, "We need you awake in case they think we killed you or something!"

"Or worse, they try to kill us!" Cartman added quickly, now crouched beside Tweek's shuddering form.

The electronic chime that rang through the store made the group fall dead silent. There was hurried shuffling that could be heard from the front of the store, and the boys knew that whoever it was would be upon their aisle soon. What if they were raiders? What if the Infectious had evolved and now knew how to drive cars and wield guns? What if they wanted to take prisoners? What if it was someone they knew?

What if it was Craig?

"Guys!" a familiar voice called throughout the store, "Kyle! Cartman! Butters! Tweek! Where are you guys!?"

"Stan?!" Kyle shot up from his crouched position. His worn down sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor as he took quick strides around and out of the aisle.

"Kyle!" Tweek heard Stan return. The door opened again, more movement could be heard after. Cartman and Butters were both on their feet long before Tweek could process much else. He slowly stood as well, worriedly glancing at his wrist watch. It was about quarter until three. So he was out for nearly three hours? Stan, and hopefully Kenny and Token too, had only just returned. What could possibly had kept them so long?

Tweek walked around the aisle so that the entire group of reunited teens were no longer obscured from his vision. He could see the orange of Kenny's parka kneeling beside the purple of Token's shirt. Alongside the darker teen were Stan, Kyle and Butters. Cartman stood above them, eyes wide as he stared down at Token's wheezing body. Quickening his pace he finally got to see what everyone was staring at.

There was a dark crescent lined against Token's neck.

Tweek nearly fainted at the sight of sticky blood and pus oozing from his friend's wound. He felt sick, ill nearly like Kyle was. Token was bitten. One of his few remaining friends was going to turn into one of them. An Infectious; a growling, repulsive, cannibalistic zombie. He wondered frantically if there was anyway to stop it.

Token was sweating, his body fidgeting in a way that dwarfed Tweek's own spasms. He was coughing up a cherry colored liquid, but it smelled absolutely disgusting. The boy was also flailing his arms around slightly, trying to grip onto something. His expression was fearful, but also filled with pain.

"We cleared a bunch of houses, guys," Stan explained dryly, biting his lip to keep tears from falling out of his sapphire eyes, "Real big, rich people homes. All empty. Then there was this one that," he paused with a sniff, "They came up behind him out of nowhere and ganged up on him."

"We got him back to the truck before they could maul him," Kenny added grimly, "But not before he got that." Kenny didn't gesture to nothing in particular, but they all knew he was referring to the deep bite that inflamed on Token's neck.

Tweek fell to his knees. Breath caught in his chest as he stared down as Token's body continued to rattle. The big hand had finally found something to clutch, and that something was Tweek's pale wrist. Mocha eyes that were once filled with passion and warmth had turned dead. They slid up slowly as their body stilled. Token no long shivered, but his orbs met Tweek's fearful ones. No one shouted, no one spoke, no one even breathed.

Token blinked slowly, then a growl grumbled at the base of his throat. The hand that had a firm grasp on Tweek had faded from its warmth, and Tweek could no longer feel Token's fast pulse surge through his flesh. His head shot up suddenly and what was left of Token shrieked. He stared at Tweek and licked his lips. Tweek frantically tried to jerk his hand away, and Kyle and Stan were both shouting and trying to pull Token off of Tweek.

The dark tongue licked hungrily at bloodied lips, all signs of Token's previous humanity had vanished and been replaced with staggering, primal values. Teeth were bared and the breathing corpse lurched forward in a stifled lunge. Before Kyle and Stan, or anyone else for that matter, could stop Token it had been too late. The once shiny teeth had sunk themselves into Tweek's forearm.

Tweek screamed with all his might, but it was all futile. He had been bitten by Token, the same boy whom he had interlaced fingers with no more than twenty four hours prior. The same boy who had confessed a secret to Tweek, the same boy who harnessed feelings for a girl Tweek knew, the same boy who was great at basketball and the same boy who had filthy rich parents, but the boy who managed to stay humble regardless.

The same exact boy who shared a close friendship with the teen who Tweek loved so dearly.

And Tweek watched.

He watched the life return to Token's mocha eyes.

Token had flung himself backwards with a start, heaving and screaming. The entire group of teens fell silent as Token stared horrified at Tweek. Tweek clutched his bleeding arm, searing pain waving through his body in quick jolts. Said teen grimaced loudly, fearful for his human identity.

"Tweek," Token heaved, "Tweek, oh my god."

The group shifted their stares from Token to Tweek, then back to Token and then to Tweek again. The bleeding blonde stumbled to his feet, feeling himself lean forward and lose his stomach contents right onto the gas station floor. He continued to puke until all that was left was acidic bile and water. He was scared out of all of his wits, every last one of them.

"What…?" Kyle breathed heavily.

"Tweek," Token had began to move over to the hunched over blonde as Tweek wiped the vomit that had dribbled onto his lips and chin. He leapt away from Token as soon as the previously infected had stepped over the reeking puddle of vomit and put a cautious hand on Tweek's shoulder.

"You bit me!" Tweek shrieked, stumbling backwards.

"I…" Token stuttered, and Tweek thought briefly of how that was one of the first times he had ever heard the bold teen trip over his own words, "I don't know what came over me."

Tweek glanced down at his watch. It was now ten minutes until three. As soon as the clock struck three o' two he would be a brainless monster.

"Token did you just…?" Cartman was lost for words as well.

"Twelve minutes," Tweek muttered, then shouted, "Twelve minutes is all that I have left of human thought!"

Kyle and Stan shared a severely uneasy glance.

"...Did you just get cured?" Kenny asked slowly, eyebrows furrowed in deep confusion.

Token wiped blood off of his lips, staring down at the thick substance that was now on his sleeve and blinked, "Man, I don't know."

A loud sob coursed through Tweek's middle and out of his throat and he fell to the ground in a grim state. He curled his legs against his chest and tucked his head into his knees, bitten arm pressed against his other hand. "I never got to tell him I loved him," he whispered. But nobody else heard but his grief filled heart.

It was stagnant for a moment, then Token whispered, "Tweek, I'm so sorry."

Tweek was furious, but he didn't want his last moments of life to be filled with rage. He retorted quietly, "It's not your fault. You couldn't help it. Oh Jesus, I'm going to become a zombie."

"Am I the only one freaking out over the fact that Token was just fucking cured?" Cartman asked loudly, "I mean, come on the odds of at least one us getting bit is pretty high. And frankly I'm pretty happy it was you, Tweek. Token is such a better use to the team than you, no offense of course. But I mean, come on, it's obvious that you're the expendable one. But how?"

Shocked glares shot at Cartman. But all were too baffled to create a legible sentence. Sensing the group's displacement, Cartman put his hands up defensively, "I was just saying what everyone else was thinking okay? He's going to be dead soon anyways, he might as well know."

"How?" Kyle began, "How can you be so careless? Why do you do these things? Why do you purposely antagonize everyone? Tweek is going to die, Cartman! Dead forever! And you're telling him how useless he is when he only has a few minutes left to live?! Are you happy, Cartman? Are you getting off to the fact that Tweek is broken down in tears because his best friend just mauled him, that he's going to die with regret?!" Kyle's voice began to escalate as he argued, and Cartman just stared blankly at the redhead.

"No," Tweek mumbled sorrowfully, "He's right. I am worthless." It was quiet, and he wasn't sure why he was confessing it now. Maybe he wanted someone to know, anyone to know of his self loathing. He waited for a response, but is was quiet, so he continued, "I don't have much to live for, anyways. You're all so brave, so smart and you have people who love you so much. I'm just a worthless spaz."

Only the slapping of the rain on concrete outside could be heard for a long minute. The watch on Tweek's wrist counted down his last moments.

"Well," Butters stuttered out weakly which surprised Tweek because out of the seven boys Butters was the least composed, other than Tweek of course, "I'm not brave, smart and everyone who loved me may be dead. So, Tweek, maybe you shouldn't be so darn hard on yourself."

It was obvious the meek teen was trying to sound supportive, but his voice quivered with fear.

A few minutes of silence was spent, and Tweek wondered what Craig would say if he saw Tweek's sobbing state. He would hold Tweek close to his chest, and tell him that everything would be okay. He would assure that even if Tweek did turn into a zombie Craig would let him bite him because he wanted to be with Tweek in whatever means possible. He'd tell Tweek how much he loved him, and then he would kiss him and promise to love him in whatever form the blonde took on. And Tweek would smile and his tears would dry and the rest of the twelve minutes would be spent with one another.

When Tweek's wristwatch struck three two, however, Tweek did not feel nor act any different.

"So." Stan was pacing back and forth anxiously. Tweek stared at his shuddering fingers that were curled in his lap. The whole group was sitting down at the front of the store. Butters was mopping up the vomit and blood, Cartman had enforced it that way. Token was sitting farthest away from him, separated by Kyle, Kenny and the pudgy frame of Eric. Neither had talked since the incident, which had occurred about an hour prior. Stan had called for a momentary hiatus in the situation because the rain had lightened up considerably, meaning it was the prime time to unload the truck without too many obstacles.

The first thing Stan had unloaded- with the help of Kenny and Butters- was the medicine they had retrieved. It was a strangely large amount, Tweek noted as Kyle had began wrapping a sterile bandage over his bite mark. But it made sense, seeing as they never ran into the Infectious up until their last raid. The medicine consisted of basic things: bandages, standard liquids, antiseptics, and even diabetic supplies they salvaged just for emergencies. Tweek thought Kyle was one, but learned shortly after questioning the red head that he had been misinformed. He was unsure of what the team may need insulin for, but he didn't object otherwise.

Food was the next thing that had been pulled out of the Ford. It was mostly canned goods, MREs and bottled water, but there was a minuscule amount of dried meats the teens had brought as well. Stan claimed them to be for only special occasions. Though Cartman had already opened a bag of jerky by the time the thinner teen established the rule. Butters questioned why they had got so much food, judging by the fact they resided in a fucking gas station packed to the brim with shit. But Stan waved him off, claiming that it was better to be safe than sorry. Tweek highly disagreed, seeing as the headstrong attitude the three stronger teens had almost cost them the life of two of their compact team of seven.

Some miscellaneous items, such as jackets, pillows, other clothes, and even a few blankets had followed the food out. Kenny had apparently found the bedroom attire underneath the back seats of the truck, and that they did not actually come from the heist on deserted homes. Tweek didn't care either way, perhaps this way he would be more comfortable at night even though sleep was scarcer than it had ever been.

The only thing that didn't seem to come out of the truck was guns. There was now a baseball bat and a some sort of knife in their small armory, but Cartman noted that there wasn't anything that would "really do damage against those fuckers". Tweek wasn't complaining, being in the mere presence of a gun gave him too much anxiety to function properly, using one was a lost cause. But Kyle just shrugged Cartman off and the truck had finally been unloaded.

"Tweek can't turn, or maybe it just takes longer for different people," Kyle began, looking up at an anxious Stan.

"But that doesn't make sense, Token and our employee zombie-," Kenny stopped, "I mean, Infectious, both turned in about twelve minutes. Why is Tweek so special?"

"Yeah fellas, I'm not the smartest person here but I think that's pretty darn weird," Butters agreed, leaning the bloodied mop against the wall of the store before taking a seat beside Token.

Tweek moved his eyes away from his shaking fingers to the dirty ground in front of him. What made him so special, anyway? He had always been close to the average Joe- save for his timid, worried behavior. Never had he ever been associated with someone who was special. The idea of him ever being more than a spaz was completely intangible, and he never particularly pondered the topic. Tweek wished he knew someone who was special, then maybe he would have some sort of clue as to what was happening to him.

Except for Craig, Tweek decided, Craig was very special. To him, anyways.

"Maybe it's all the coffee," Cartman shrugged, chomping down on yet another bag of precious jerky.

It was quiet, then Kyle said, "Cartman, that's retarded. We've all drank coffee, that means that if it was the coffee then we would all have some kind of resistance to it."

"I don't know Kyle," Stan had stopped pacing to face his friend, "Tweek does drink a lot of coffee."

"Yeah, but do you even realize how irrational that is? We would know if it was his coffee! Even if it was the coffee, then Token wouldn't have turned around the same amount of time that the employee did, which we know was exactly twelve minutes. You were the one who even said that it had taken ten minutes to get up here, then two minutes later he turns? That's not a coincidence," Tweek had tuned out Kyle's speech around this time, it was just making the dilemma furtherly complex. So he just stood up, interrupting the "meeting".

Tweek pushed open the door and stepped out. His anxiety was beginning to get it's foul grasp on his better judgement. What if the other boys decide that the only solution was to kick Tweek out? Or worse, what if they lock him in the closet with Craig's facade corpse for a week, or longer? What if they don't even spare him for that matter, and if they take turns beating his skull in with heavy clubs? His breathing quickened along with his pace. The rain was pelting harshly on his already soaked back, but he didn't feel it.

As his feet brought him to the shelter of the pumps, he had set his brain further into panic and doubt. They really were going to kill him. It was just like Cartman said; Tweek really was the weakest asset to their team, the expendable one, the fuckup, the good-for-nothing member…

The freak.

He shrieked loudly as something came into his vision abruptly. The teenager was stumbling towards him. Tweek was paralyzed in horror. It was Craig's dead body, coming back to torment Tweek for leaving him for dead back at their school. This was all his fault, if he was braver he could have saved his love. But now, his rotten, soaked, infected corpse was stuttering towards his frightened form.

Craig was upon him now, his decaying hand clutching Tweek's shoulder. He moaned in pain, rotten blue eyes glaring up at Tweek. Olive eyes returned, and the terrorized teen felt longing mix in with his fear. He didn't understand, why couldn't Token have just grabbed Craig instead of Tweek? Then Craig would be alive and well, while Tweek would be rightfully suffering in whatever hell awaited him.

When Craig's free hand on Tweek's cheek, all fear swelled up in his throat and got caught. He couldn't scream, he couldn't move, he couldn't talk. He was frozen, chilled to bone with rainwater and Craig. Craig placed his foul lips on Tweek's bloodied, and Tweek found himself not really wanting to move anyways.

And then he was gone.

Tweek blinked. Where had Craig went? He was just before him, how could he just disappear? Had he evaporated with the rain, or perhaps was it all Tweek's imagination once more? That made the most sense, his fucked up mind was the only plausible thing that could conjure up such a horror instanced as Craig's tattered corpse.

He was shaking, confused, and alone. But he didn't scream. Tweek composed himself, which was meaningless because his composed state is everyone else's frantic. He forced his feet forward and moved out of the sheltered pumps. He stared up at the rain, droplets occasionally getting in his eyes and thought hard enough then maybe he'd be able to hear Craig's childish laughter echo through the mist.

No such cackle could be heard, though. As there was no more giggles to be made. This was because there was no more Craig for such laughter to emit from. But Tweek thought that that was okay anyways, because he himself wouldn't live for much longer for any matter. So instead, he pondered his situation and stared back down at his bandaged arm that had blood seeping through the soaked fabric.

How could this happen? A zombie apocalypse, in a time where aircraft lights shone brighter than the stars. How could such a thing have been allowed? Where was their rescue? Where was all the war machines the US had built, that could take down an entire nation? Sure, they were cannibalistic monsters, but there had to be some sort of cure.

What if it was him?

No, that couldn't be. A mere human could not be a cure to such an epidemic. That was the most intangible thought he had ever conjured, it was simply silly.

It did, however, bring him comfort. It made sense; why he couldn't turn and how a bite of his flesh reversed Token's. That did make sense, and although he knew it was not the truth it was a solution. And he didn't care, it was a worthless statement but somehow he had an answer. He didn't need to use it, and it didn't need to be tangible, it just calmed his racing brain. There was now a sliver of chance that there may be a resolution.

"I thought you had run off for good," Tweek heard a light chuckle behind him. Token stepped beside him, looking up at the ran with happily grim expression, "I couldn't see you because of the pumps."

"Sorry…" Tweek tried to say it quietly, but he was pretty certain that if it wasn't raining then Token would've had to cover his ears.

Token didn't say anything about it, though. Instead he questioned, "How's your arm?"

"Oh, um, it's fine!" Tweek tried to calm his frantic thoughts, and added, "What about your neck?"

"It's okay. Just stings," pause, "I'm so sorry Tweek. I don't know what came over me, and then I bit you and all of a sudden… I was back."

Tweek shrugged, "It's only the second day, things are only gonna get worse."

Token must've taken that as an offensive thing, he must've. Tweek didn't mean for it to be offensive, it just didn't have the correct context for it to not be. Token would leave him for sure now. Leave Tweek to contract a sickness in the heavy rain. Leave him to run away into an infested world.

He would leave, like he had left Craig and his family. He would turn around and go back into the gas station, and he would never come back. Olive eyes would never meet mocha ones again because they would run away into the most sick riddled parts of their mind, and into the now ill world. Tweek would run too far, and the only thing that would ever be able to catch up with him would be those olive eyes that bear so much confliction.

But either did not.

"I guess that's true," Token agreed, "But I doubt any of us will be leaving the gas station for a while. We have no reason to now, anyways."

Tweek didn't respond. He hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of being stranded with six other temperamental teens in a small space yet. Perhaps he would learn to find comfort in their company, but that day was far from the current rainy one. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it was just six of them, and if they had left a particular fat teen behind in the burning town of South Park. It may have made it even the slightest more bearable. Tweek silently wished it was Cartman that they had left instead of Craig.

The two stood there, and eventually Tweek had stepped back into the shelter of the pumps. They just stared out onto the misty parking lot and whatever was obscured beyond. This time, no shadow Craig had appeared in the fog and Tweek had not ran anywhere. There was no argument between a certain cute redhead and an antagonizing teenager. It would have been silent, perhaps if not for the now softer rainfall. And Tweek felt safe for the first time that day.

The once vibrating pain that seared on his arm had faded into a dull hurt, but Tweek couldn't really feel it anymore nor did he want to. The only sensation Tweek experienced was Token's comforting presence. He almost couldn't comprehend the idea of Token ever being a mindless, infectious creature. The two didn't need to further discuss their dark crescents, Tweek had already forgiven both Token and himself over the affair.

Olive eyes caught something to their left that they had not noticed before. It was a wilted tree, which was odd seeing that it was only a cold august day. Tweek turned his head towards and realized that it was not wilted, but the oak was simply dead. It looked as though it had not sprouted leaves in years; soaked to the very core with over a decade of weather and age. Branches and limbs snapped at random points, some which clutched onto their origin with thin tendons and others that had simply fallen to the ground.

Tweek was confused, had that broken tree always been there? Even when the weather was clear he had not seen the oak. Which was yet another strange thing, he had not even seen an oak ever since they left South Park. Beyond the sleepy town was simply pines and shrubs. Tweek was about to ask Token if he had noticed the tree prior to the moment, but halted in the motion when he noticed the lonesome figure beside it.

It was Craig again.

Tweek wanted to run again. He wanted to charge away from his alive, tangible friend to the phantom. He wanted to leap into Craig's arms and never let go again. Desired so desperately for Craig to hold him and tell Tweek how much he had missed him, how much he loves him, how much he needs him. He wanted to feel Craig's sweet, hickory infused kisses all over his face and body. He wanted to sit by the broken tree and listen to Craig's soothing voice rant about his sister's ballet tryouts. He didn't want the tragedies or the loss to catch up with them, he just wanted to stare at Craig and listen.

He wanted to run, but he didn't.

Tweek didn't run because he knew. He knew that Craig was dead, and that it was time to let go.

So he tore his head away from Craig and the dead oak, and looked to Token. The taller teen was staring at the sky, a small grin plastered on his strong face. The rain was only sprinkling at their feet now. Mist still hung in the air, but a bit of the neighboring mountain had been revealed.

Token must've sensed Tweek's eyes boring into him, because he turned towards the blonde. The soft grin contrasted his bold features as it widened, "It's been awhile since we've seen rain, huh?"

"Yeah," Tweek replied, and he was sure that it was nice on Token's ears because it was the softest thing he had spoken all day.

Token's gaze averted from Tweek and found the mist in front of them again. He stepped out of the shelter of the pumps with that stupid grin still etched onto his lips. He closed his eyes and turned his head towards the heavens. Token opened his mouth to catch raindrops like a child would.

And then, in a time where the stars shined the brightest in the night sky because there were no aircrafts to compete, Tweek was in love.

Or at least, he wanted to believe he was.

...

Hey guys! Sorry it took so long, I've been caught up in a lot of school work. Anyways, here's a clusterfuck of a chapter.

Uh, so I guess I should clarify that this is still Creek. It's not all just going to be flashbacks, I promise.

Anyways, enjoy! I'll try to work on my update schedule!