By the late afternoon, spirits were raised once more. They'd fed and watered themselves. Craig, with the help of Bebe, Kenny and Kyle, had installed the shelter he'd built into the raft. Some people took a nap under it. Others enjoyed a swim in the ocean. Butters had taken to building an elaborate sandcastle. Ike had let several people crowd around his phone in the raft to start watching Orange is the New Black. It was that, and Jessica Jones on Firkle's phone that they had. Aside from the music on their phone, it was the only source of entertainment they had. Ike initially had wanted to not share Firkle's solar charger, and their phones. But what was the harm, honestly? Not everyone had been luck to have their phones on them. The only ones were Ike, Firkle, Bebe, and Craig. They'd had them in their pockets or bags, and everyone else's were now at the bottom of the ocean, forever lost due to water damage.
Overall, everyone was feeling good. Even Tweek was beginning to reach a level of calmness. There wasn't much he was able to stress about, all things considered. They were limited in their stresses, here. It was a small blessing. Of course, there were things such as starvation. Death. Sickness. Injuries. What their families were doing. Would they be here forever? Would they ever be rescued? Would they make it out with everyone alive? Tweek had no idea! None of them did...
But right now? Everyone was feeling good. The sun was shining. Several of them were already rocking an amazing tan. They included Kenny and Bebe, hair golden and skin bronzed and glowing like a twin set of Greek Gods and Goddesses. They had spent the afternoon hanging around one another in the ocean, enjoying themselves and making the most of their scenario. Everyone couldn't help but stare periodically. With both of them wet and in their underclothes, walking up the sand as if they were filmed in slow motion for a movie. "I'm blessed," Wendy had said, Bebe's sunglasses over her eyes as she lounged on a couple of palms in the sun. Stan sat beside her, eyes focused on Kenny. "We all are," he said. And it was true. A little eye candy never hurt anyone, and neither Kenny nor Bebe cared about everyone watching them. Stan didn't know Bebe well, but he knew Kenny. And Kenny loved this. "You'd think they're related," Stan continued, head cocking slightly as he looked at the two of them. They were about the same height. Both slender in build, both toned and... perfect. Even Kenny's ass was as round and perky as Bebe's. The thing that set them apart were Bebe's brown eyes, opposed to Kenny's blue ones.
"Oh, shit, watch this," Wendy said, smacking Stan gently on his knee. Kenny had said something to Bebe that resulted in her tossing her head back in laughter, before hopping back into a defensive stance. She brought out her two arms, gesturing to Kenny with her index and middle fingers on both hands. They watched as Kenny did the same, crouching, the two of them circling each other. "They're gonna fight, holy shit!" Stan called, and immediately everyone else close by turned to watch. "Go easy on him, babe!" Wendy called out, and Bebe cupped her hands into a heart. Her eyes didn't move from Kenny, but they could all see the look on her face. Like a cat, ready to pounce on a rat. "Kick her ass, Kenny, she's just a chick!" Stan called out. But he wasn't as smart as Bebe, turning his head to give Stan a cocky nod. There was a collective groan from the group as Bebe charged forward, arms around Kenny's middle as she tackled him to the sound and sat upon him.
"Cheap shot!" Cartman yelled out, watching as they both stood up. In the sand, Eric marked a small T chart. Point for Bebe.
Wendy turned to Stan, explaining what everyone else already knew from knowing Bebe. "She works out a lot. She runs a fitness and beauty vlog. She may be beautiful but she's a stone cold killer. Kicked my ass once before we started dating." Unfair fight, Wendy always said. Bebe was much taller than she was. Five ten, as opposed to Wendy's five one. In the raft, Ike had gone through Bebe's bag and picked out the Bluetooth speaker. A never ending bag of supplies. He'd turned it on, Eye of the Tiger blaring through the little speaker. "She's gonna win," Wendy said, and Stan laughed. "Nah, Kenny can hold his own." What Stan and Cartman knew that the others didn't was Kenny's ability to actually die, and wake up the next morning better than ever.
They all watched, Bebe moving to kick Kenny in the side. They heard the top of her foot smack into his side, and Stan winced. It was a strong kick, and Bebe made move for another one. But Kenny was learning, grabber her leg and twisted so that Bebe was facing away from him, hopping on one foot. He gave a hefty shove, and down she went, face first into the sand. Cartman marked a point for Kenny, and they all watched as Bebe brushed herself off, looking murderous now as she wiped her face free of sand. All bets were off, and the glint in their eyes meant they weren't going to stop until one of them couldn't move any longer.
And boy, what a fight. They'd picked sides by the end of it. There were obvious ones, of course. Stan sided with Kenny, Wendy with Bebe. But Cartman had swapped teams as Bebe landed several good punched to Kenny's jaw. But then there was Ike and Filmore, whooping as Kenny kicked his foot flat into Bebe's abdomen, sending her to her ass. Then there was Kyle, yelling at the both of them to stop before they really hurt themselves. Everyone ignored him, the resident buzzkill. Tweek was on his side, apparently. Twitching as he called out for them once they saw one of Kenny's teeth go flying into the ocean as Bebe's foot hit against it. Butters was perhaps the most violent, calling for blood. And Stan saw what Craig had meant by calling him nuts. Such a sweet guy, but he had absolutely no chill.
The fight didn't stop for a good while, only ending when Bebe had given Kenny several more strong kicks and punches to Kenny's head. He laid motionless on the sand, and Bebe gave him a few small kicks to the side to get him up. Her hands were bloody, body bruised. But Kenny fared worse. Blood from his nose and mouth and one of his ears. But he didn't ever move. After a few minutes, Bebe crouched down beside him and smacked at his cheeks. "Kenny?" Bebe asked, voice soft and full of concern. "Kenny?!" Kenny never answered. She pressed two fingers against his neck, and felt no pulse before she started screaming.
Wendy and Kyle rushed down to her, and Bebe scrambled backwards on the sand, looking towards Kenny and then at Wendy. She screamed bloody murder. "I killed him! I killed him!" Kyle was next to Kenny, mouth against his, hands on his chest to pump air into his lungs. Anything to get him moving again. Stan and Cartman shared a look, wondering which of them would stop the panic that was arising. Cartman looked amused by this, watching as Wendy held Bebe's face in her hands tightly to yell at her to stop screaming and calm down. Stan went down, seeing the three of them shaking with panic. Behind him, Stan turned to see Craig lifting Tweek into the raft to shield him from the view.
"Stop!" Stan yelled, voice bellowing and everyone went quiet. "He's fine!" Bebe looked mortified, face streaming with tears. "Fine!? He's not fine!" Stan resisted the urge, and began to explain. "You killed Kenny-" he was cut off by Kyle, whose head whipped around to stare at him, angry. "You bastard! Can't you see she's upse-" Stan held up a hand to silence him. "You killed Kenny, but he'll be fine. He'll be back tomorrow." They looked at him like he was nuts, and Stan spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "Trust me! He dies all the time. Hell, two months ago we were in Saint Petersburg, and he went to open the hold with his bare hands and froze to it. We didn't notice and took off with him stuck there. He's been sucked into jet engines, run over, fallen from the plane. Every time he comes back."
"Trust me," Stan said, looking at all of them. Cartman pushed himself up, nodding in agreement to the others at the camp. "It's true. Scared Stan shitless the first time. He cried like a little bitch." Stan glared at him, feeling the need to justify himself. "Only because you didn't tell me he'd be fine! You let me think he died on my watch!"
That night, no one slept peacefully. Except for Stan and Cartman. The others tossed and turned, with the exception of the two by the fire. Craig had opted to stay awake again, Firkle joining him by the fire. "You should stop stealing my smokes, man," Firkle said, voice flat as he handed one over to the older boy all the same. Craig lit up, passing the lighter to Firkle before pushing himself up. "Come on," he said. Craig's voice didn't have any command to it, but Firkle followed all the same. The moon was nearing full, probably another couple of nights. Together, they headed through the forest, away from any of the others. It wasn't until Craig felt they were well out of ear shot that he spoke. "How's my sister? You know?" Firkle and her had been in the same grade. Almost friends, if Craig remembered right. Not close, but enough where Firkle had been round to their house for a few projects here and there. They'd gotten on fine, two young people who didn't give a shit. Craig had left home at seventeen, sick of his home life and he hadn't spoken to his parents since. His sister had done nothing wrong, but it had been a long time since he'd seen her.
"Last I talked to her, she was transferring to NYU, in September. She mentioned it on Facebook," Firkle said, and Craig felt a small swell of pride. His baby sister went to New York City. He missed her, but contact with her meant contact with their parents and there wasn't a time in his life in which he'd ever be ready to look his father in the face.
"Why'd you leave, anyway? She was pretty mad about it," Firkle asked, flicking his cigarette butt somewhere onto the island floor. Craig still had a few small puffs of his left, but he sucked it back before doing the same. "No way, kid, no tragic backstory for you." Craig could hear the goth kid roll his eyes, even in the dark. He could just sense it. But there was no way he was telling this little twit what his demons were. "I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours?" the young one offered, and Craig just shook his head. "You can tell me yours all you fucking want, I'm not telling you mine. If you're so desperate to talk about yourself, talk to your friends."
"Not happening. They care to much. It's weird." Craig looked at him, eyebrow lifting but Firkle just stared at him. Craig supposed he could understand that. He didn't tell his friends much either. They didn't know, and Craig didn't need to be pitied or coddled. He wasn't made of glass, and his friends wore their hearts on their sleeves and the last thing he wanted was for them to walk on eggshells around him. He'd dealt with his demons in his own way.
Firkle had gone to bed after Craig had tripped him into the fresh water pond at the heart of the island. Maybe it was mean. But the kid was prying to much and getting on his nerves, and he'd been so close to the edge. Craig played it off like Firkle had just tripped over a stick of something, that Craig was completely innocent. Both of them knew he wasn't, but the little goth kid didn't comment on it, just wiped his wet hair from his face and glared at him.
Craig stayed up again, watching the fire, tossing more wood as needed through the night. Occasionally he checked up on the group of them in the raft, and Craig unzipped the blue hoodie, tossing it over Tweek's shivering body. The night was damp, and a chill blew in off the ocean. Craig would try and put some sort of wall on the frame in the morning. Especially considering in the far distance, he could see the greyish purple of clouds in the night sky. Whether the wind would brow rain in their direction was something Craig couldn't tell. Stan and Eric probably would be a better judge of weather than any of them, given their livelihoods had depended on knowing it. With everyone asleep, he began to feel the exhaustion really set in from being up multiple nights in a row. But there was no way he'd sleep peacefully in a life raft with a bunch of strangers, Nor was Craig going to keep any of them up with his tossing and turning.
He sat on the edge of it, long arms reaching down to run his fingers through Tweek's knotty hair, helping to soothe him in his sleep. He could feel Tweek relax under his fingers, used to Craig's presence while he slept. Craig would sleep when he was so tired he'd drop and his mind would be dark and peaceful. But until then, Craig had every intention of keeping himself awake. Someone had to watch, anyway.
So he did. Craig sat up, watching as the clouds rolled in as the hours passed. The sun rising illuminated them to a beautiful array of reds, pinks and oranges. He briefly wondered how much of that old saying was true. Red sky at night, sailors delight. Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. It reminded him of playing pirates as children, and Craig got lost in his thoughts. Until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and Craig nearly shat himself from shock.
"Kenny, holy fuck!" So Stan and Cartman were right. Or Craig was so fucking tired he was beginning to hallucinate. Not unheard of, he'd stayed awake once for five days in a row before and was plagued by them. Mind, they were never as pleasant as a good looking blonde. More like shadow demons trying to claw at his ankles and drag him down into the underworld, and kitchen appliances coming alive and ripping him and Tweek to shreds in their shitty lite apartment. Kenny greeted him with a bright smile, and then held his arms out to show off. "Miss me?" he asked, all grins.
Craig's face fell flat. "No." Because quite honestly? No. He didn't know Kenny. Kenny was a stranger. Was pretty shitty Bebe had killed him, but Craig was more concerned about Bebe going insane and killing everyone once she got a taste of blood. Kenny held a hand to his chest. "I'm hurt, Craig. Wounded, even." He looked slightly offended, but the amusement in his eyes was what made Craig sigh and roll his. "Well, you're fine now, what's it matter? Bebe!" Craig yelled, and the blonde girl shot up, hair wild and eyes full of terror at being abruptly awoken.
"What?! What's wrong?" She called out, loud enough to start to make everyone start to wake with her. Craig just grinned at her, slightly amused by her morning fear. It was funny now, since Kenny was fine. "Look, you're not a brutal murderer after all. Shame." Bebe rubbed at her eyes, seeing Kenny in the light of the sunrise. She shot out of the raft, throwing her arms around Kenny and held tight as she burst into tears again. Girls were so weird. Kenny rubbed at her back as Bebe sputtered wet apologies, the blonde boy just happy to have her pressed against him.
Craig stopped caring when Tweek was properly awake, and slid into the raft to cup his cheeks in his hands. "It's just Bebe, Kenny's back." Tweek's face relaxed, eyes flicking over to confirm it himself. "G...good." Tweek muttered, voice heavy with sleep. Craig let him go, reaching down to pull up the blue hoodie and slide it on to Tweek. "It's going to rain today," Craig said, nodding to the clouds. "Wanna help me get some palms, build a wall or two?" Tweek nodded, leaning forward into Craig's chest and the taller man wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on Tweek's head. "You... you smell like shit, dude." Tweek said, and Craig huffed. "You're not so fresh yourself, man," he countered, letting a finger get caught in a knot and tugged gently for emphasis. "I'll see if I can swipe Bebe's soap and we can sneak off for a bath." Craig wasn't stripping down in front of anyone but Tweek, not even for a wash. He wouldn't mind washing his clothes, as well. But that required being nude for a while, and like fuck he was letting everyone see his pasty white ass and scarred thighs. "I... I wish... Oh god, if only I brought my bag!" Tweek cried out, and Craig just smushed him harder against his chest to help muffle his voice from the others. "I had a change! A change of clothes. I wouldn't stink. Oh Jesus. And toiletries! But Kenny, the pressure to leave! I forgot!"
Craig held the back of his head, shaking his own. "It's fine, Tweek, I didn't get anything either. Most of us didn't. No one thought they had any time to grab their bags from the overhead." There would have been time, though. The plane had floated for a while before it finally filled with too much water and sank. But it allowed Kenny enough time to go and grab the pilots and haul them out and roll them into the raft. Kenny had been far from gentle, more focused on getting them out than getting them out nicely. Craig regretted not pulling himself in and doing what Tweek was panicking about. He had a few changes of clothes, a swim suit, and some toiletries in his carry on too. Not much they could do about it, though. "Come on, get off your ass. Time to work." It was day three, and Butters had already climbed out to go score it into the large palm that hung over the fire pit of their camp.
Craig pushed Tweek off his lap, hand on his butt to push him up and out of the raft. Craig threw his arm around Tweek's shoulders, feeling rather good about everything right now. Craig chalked it up to one of the stages of exhaustion. The others were making their way to the fire, or passing around one of the bottles of water for a drink. Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny stood in a little line, discussing the weather. It was a little surreal, seeing them there in their little line, looking so different. Kyle fit with them.
"I give it four hours, tops," Stan said, arm up as he directed the presumed path of the clouds, with the wind. "The wind's maybe gusting to ten knots, right now. It might gust up past twenty five, if we're getting a storm." Stan brought his arm down, looking at his watch. "Which I think we are, pressure's at twenty niner niner inches of mercury right now." Craig and Tweek moved closer, leaning in with the others as they all stared down at Stan's watch. A handy little thing. Stan looked a bit proud of everyone looking at it. "It's an alti-baro watch. Comes in handy." If it was gonna help predict the weather, then it was a rather precious thing to have with them.
"Tweek and I are gonna go gather some palms, build up some walls and give us a place to escape from the rain. It might do us some good to cook some stuff up, we probably won't have a fire tonight if the rain lasts." Craig said, and Kyle nodded in agreement. "We should move some wood under the shelter as well, or wrap the stack in palms. We should avoid wet wood-" Kyle was cut off by Eric snickering, and Kyle punched him in the injured shoulder with a glare before he continued. "Wet wood if we can help it."
By the time the rain rolled in, Craig had three decent walls built up. The only one he hadn't gotten to was the face closes to the interior of the island, but the trees should help keep any wind and rain blowing that way at bay. They weren't the sturdiest things, and Craig hoped the winds weren't so high that they'd be destroyed. They could do a bit more enforcing on the inside while it rained.
The others had split up again, Bebe, Butters and Kenny on water duty, while Eric and Kyle took to gathering some more sea food. They'd gut and cleaned several, frying it on a hot, flat rock in the coals of the fire. Wendy and Stan took up cracking open coconuts, dumping their juice into a couple of the small water bottles before they cut out the meat and wrapped it in leaves to keep it from getting contaminated by sand. Wherever Firkle and his friends went, Craig didn't know nor care. They'd said something about laundry, taking a shirt-sack full of peoples clothes and the hand soap from Bebe's bag and went off somewhere on the island. Craig had given them his shirt and sweater, along with all of Tweek's clothes minus his underpants.
It was the early afternoon when the rain started, falling slowly at first before suddenly dropping on them like a sheet. Everyone scrambled into the raft, thanking Craig, Tweek and Wendy for the work they'd put into it.
"You need to sleep, dude," Kenny said, sitting beside him and offering two coconut halves. They were cleaned out, one filled with water, the other with a mix of cooked fish, fruit and coconut meat. "Thanks," Craig said, picking out a fillet of fish and popped it into his mouth. For coming from the ocean, the fish was fairly bland. It could do with some salt. Pepper. Lemon juice. But it was food, and Craig was hungry. Hell, Craig was hungry, sore, tired...
He got halfway through his bowl before he felt too tired and full to finish. It was a small handful of food, and Craig wondered if it was possible to be too tired to eat. Not that Craig ever ate much to begin with. Besides, Tweek was finished his. Craig reached over, plucking the coconut out of Tweek's hand and replaced it with his own. It wasn't often that Tweek looked angry, but he gave Craig a glare. "You... you need to eat! You'll... you'll become a skeleton!"
"Yeah, man, food may be limited but you should eat what you can," Kenny agreed. "You're a tall dude, you should be eating more than most of us. Cartman can stand to lose a few pounds-" Kenny was cut off by Cartman yelling out that he wasn't fat, but Kenny ignored him as if it was a common tease between them. "But you're stick thin as it is."
Craig groaned, running a hand through his hair and messing it up further. "I'm fine. I'm just not feeling well. Get off my back, fuck." Craig regretted saying so, watching as Tweek's face contorted into worry. "Oh no, you're sick!" He cried out, instantly thinking that Craig was going to keel over and die at any moment or something. "Holy fuck," Craig whined, wanting to smash his head on the branch walls until he passed out.
"Listen, both of you, I ate as much as I felt like and I'm not going to gorge myself on food just to make you guys feel better." Craig snapped, wanting to wrap his hands around Kenny's throat to wipe the look of concern off his face. "I'm gonna try and take a nap," he said a bit calmer, hand reaching over to wrap around Tweek's wrist as an anchor for himself "Save it and I'll eat it then, alright?" Tweek nodded, as did Kenny, both of them keeping their eyes on him.
With a sigh, Craig leaned back on the raft wall and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. With the sound of the wind and rain, it didn't take long for him to drift to sleep, sitting up right and clinging to Tweek's wrist to keep him grounded to reality.