I've been struggling with some aspects of this story which I thought I wouldn't have any problems with. Initially, I thought I would have this go with different character POVs each chapter, but this is proving to be very difficult.
I like writing for Craig, even though he's kind of a pussy around Tweek. I like Tweek, 'cause he's pretty unique. I think maybe I'll use mostly them, and switch to using other characters when the plot needs it.
Let me know what you think? That'd be great. If I use Craig and Tweek mostly (which I think I probably will) Craig won't be such a pansy, and Tweek...will probably be mostly the same.
Tweek sat around one of the many coffee tables, holding a fresh cup of Harbucks coffee. 's coffee shop didn't close until eleven o'clock; meaning he had a lot of time to kill. The blonde had caved into his anxiety, and made another batch of coffee to calm himself down. He'd cleaned everything up again, since he really didn't have anything better to do.
Craig had kissed him.
Tweek leant back into the plush couch, sighing deeply. His thin hands still clutched at the large, hot cup of coffee, as he stared at the ceiling. One of his hands left the cup, tracing his lips, where his best friend had kissed him not twenty minutes ago.
Craig had kissed him.
Tweek had completely freaked out after Craig had booked it. At first he was shocked, and then he melted, and then he realized that maybe, maybe, just maybe he had better than a snowball's chance in hell of Craig liking him. That is, liking him back. And thus, Tweek freaked out, and tripped over a coffee table full of magazines. The blonde rubbed at a bruise that was forming on his knee from the fall subconsciously.
The sound of running water had stopped not too much longer after Craig left. Tweek had gathered as much courage as he possessed and went and asked his Father if he was okay. There wasn't a real reply, just the sound of something wet hitting the floor; Tweek guessed he was going back to puking shit up. That wasn't what really concerned him at the moment, though. He was really concerned for his dad, but after Craig kissed him, the jet-black haired teenager took over all his thoughts.
Tweek didn't have a whole lot of self esteem; he had been avoided for most of the whopping sixteen years he had lived, and he knew it. The blonde couldn't really help how he acted, since his parents had always given him coffee, and he just loved it. He had hung out with Stan's group a lot when he was younger as a replacement for Kenny; and they later discarded him. Tweek had felt bad about their loss of Kenny and even though they weren't the nicest people in the world, he pitied them. Luckily enough for him, Craig, Clyde and Token forgave him and accepted him into their group again after Stan's group didn't want him around anymore. As far as he could remember, he recalled that Kyle was nice, and so was Stan; Cartman was mostly the one who ragged on him. They got into too many weird things though; he probably wouldn't have been almost abducted and other kinds of crap if he hadn't tried to fill in Kenny's void to make them feel better.
Tweek didn't mind them as much as Craig did, though; Craig would flip them off if they ever tried to talk to him, or something as simple as Stan or Kyle being nice and waving 'hello' would earn Craig's middle finger. It was true that they had been jerks to Tweek at times, but they were nice, too. Craig was still pissed over the Peru thing, and he had told the blonde that even talking to them invited more weird bullshit to happen. Apparently their attitudes pissed him off, too.
Tweek pulled his phone out; it was 10:26. The blonde sighed and pocketed his cell again, and picked up a magazine, considering texting Craig and asking him to hang with him until his Mom picked them up. Tweek had texted her what was going on, and she had agreed to drive them home. At the same time, Tweek wasn't sure if he was ready to face Craig after being kissed.
The sound of the bathroom door opening made Tweek jump up out of his seat, and look in the direction of the sound.
Mr. Tweak came out if the bathroom, hunched over, clutching at his stomach. His blonde son was about to ask him if he was okay, before stepped out of the shade of the backroom, and into the light of the main part of Harbucks.
The man's eyes were glazed over and yellowish, making his pupils almost impossible to see. His eyes had sank even farther into his skull than before, with dark shadows surrounding them; his cheeks had also sunken in with the same dark shadows showing where his cheekbones jutted out. What had most of Tweek's attention was where blood had dripped down over his chin from his mouth, and a lot had stained the front of his sweater. He appeared to be horribly skinny from what Tweek could see. His father had also turned a pale grey.
"O-oh God! D-Dad! W...what's wrong? S-should I call the ambulance?" Tweek was truly afraid for his Dad; at the same time, something in the back of his head told him that something was wrong, but he couldn't make any sense of it. Tweek started to reach for his cell phone to call his Mom when his father rushed forwards suddenly.
Mr. Tweak moved out from behind the counter, to one of the shelves that was stacked with coffee cups, equipment and other various things for purchase. The brown haired man threw the shelf over, roaring with a voice that sounded nothing like his own; it cracked, it was loud, and it was very primal. The blonde boy shrieked, as he was rather close to the tall shelf and dashed out of the way; avoiding being hit the shelf. Coffee cups, espresso machines, coffee grinders and coffee blends went flying; some were crushed when the shelf hit the floor, some rolled harmlessly to the floor and other things shattered. Tweek stared in horror at his Dad; after he brought the shelf down, he screamed, throwing his head back, clutching at the sides of his head. It looked like he entered a seizure; he shook, his head moving from side to side rapidly, and his fingers tore at his skin. Blood streamed from the now open wounds from his nails, and he continued to scream. moved drunkenly, throwing his head against shelves and it sounded as if there was permanent damage to his head. Mr. Tweak looked up, and Tweek could see his forehead was pouring blood, and it was already starting to bruise. The man threw another shelf over, moving closer towards his son.
Tweak was afraid. He didn't ever remember being this afraid in his entire life. "D...Dad?" He asked quietly, trying to mask the fear his voice. His father stopped, groaning heavily as he did; he was bent over, his head facing Tweek's direction. The blonde trembled, eyes flicking up and around, to his surroundings. Tweek wondered where he could run to if he needed to. threw up again; and to Tweek's horror, it wasn't just anything he was throwing up.
There on the ground, matted with blood, pooling, was what looked like an organ.
Tweek screamed.
stood up, although still hunched over. Tweek pressed himself to the wall, sorry he left his fear get the better of him for screaming. His Dad groaned, although it sounded agitated. The man lunged forward suddenly, launching himself at his son. Tweek shrieked again out of surprise, and managed to dodge his father. caught his balance immediately, and reached out for Tweek, his feet coming to life again, groping the air madly for the blonde. Tweek ran, down the hall for the bathrooms, throwing a door open, not looking back to see where his Dad was. Unfortunately, his Dad was closer than he had anticipated and the sickly man tore at his shoulder, ripping the material of his uniform shirt open, as well as tearing some of the flesh there. Tweek gasped at the pain, but managed to throw himself inside the bathroom and swung the door shut. The man's hand was reaching through the door as he did, and the heavy wooden door slammed onto it, the sound of bones and skin crunching as he did. Mr. Tweak roared, but it didn't seem as if he was in pain; it seemed like it was out of anger. The hand slipped out of the door, and the blonde teen took the opportunity to shut the door and lock it.
"...F-fuck. W-what the fuck? Gah! Oh God...wh-what?" Tweek asked himself, sitting in front of the locked door, dazed, and terrified. There was another scream from outside the door, and it sounded as if was enraged, and there was pounding. The door rattled, and Tweek guessed that his Dad was having a fit against the door, throwing himself against it, slamming his fists upon the surface. Tweek suddenly remembered that he was hurt, and looked at his shoulder with a whimper; the blonde boy scooted away from the door, against a wall. "N-no...oh, God!" Tweek didn't want to do anything about his shoulder; not yet.
The blonde pulled his cell phone out of his pocket; thanking God he had enough sense to keep it there. He dialed the first number that came to his head, with his hands shaking more than they ever had in his life.
"Hello? Tweek?" Craig sounded embarrassed.
"Craig!" Tweek practically screamed into the phone. "Help me! F-fuck! O-Oh God, I...I think he w-wants to kill me! Ngh! P-please!"
"Who does? Tweek, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?"
Tweek started to cry. "Ngh...Craig! My Dad...ngh, he f-fucking attacked me! Jesus, he t-threw up a KIDNEY!" Tweek sobbed into the phone; his shoulder felt like it was on fire.
"Did he hurt you, Tweek? Are you safe from him right now?" Craig's voice was suddenly steely.
Unconsciously, Tweek nodded. "Ugh. I-I think I am. I'm in the Harbucks bathroom...the d-doors here are heavy, a-and it's locked. Ngh." The blonde glanced at his shoulder; it was gushing blood now, and Tweek wondered how he didn't notice before. "S-shit! He tore my s-shoulder open...ngh, I haven't done anything to it y-yet. It's fucking g-gushing blood."
Craig gasped. "Tweek! Put pressure on it, or you'll pass out from the blood loss!" Craig paused, as if thinking things. "There's paper towel there, yeah? Just try and stop the bleeding, wrap it up...keep warm. If you bleed enough, you might go into shock. I'll come for you okay? I'll take care of you. It's okay. Call the police, Tweek!"
Tweek hiccupped into the phone. "O-okay...ungh. Thanks, C-Craig. Wait until the p-police get here, okay...? I don't want you to, ngh, get hurt." Tweek flinched at another bout of crazy thumps at the door; his Dad had been at the door, shaking it, trying to open it non-stop. The doorknob even rattled sometimes.
"Jesus. I'll get off the phone now. I'll be there soon with a blanket and first aid crap. Take care of yourself! Call the police now!"
"Y-yes sir!" Tweek hung up, and the reality of where he was and what was happening hit him hard. Tweek trembled, and dialed the police station, standing, and grabbing paper towel. Tweek took off his shirt as fast as he could, while pressing his ear to the phone as it dialed for the police station.
"South Park police station. How may I help you?"
"Gah! I-I'm being attacked! Please, ngh, help me!" The blonde had his shirt off, and the bloody garment was over his other shoulder.
"Where are you, sir?" There were the sounds of others starting to bustle and it sounded like other voices were barking commands at each other suddenly. "What's your name? Do you know who's attacking you?"
The woman on the phone was so calm, Tweek felt like hitting her. He had a shitload of paper towel pressed to his shoulder, and he held it there for dear life; he also had another load of paper towel wrapped around his shoulder. "I-I'm at Harbucks, I work here. I-I locked myself in the bathroom. Ngh. I-I-I'm Tweek Tweak, a-and it's my Dad that's attacking me!"
"We will be there to help you soon, sir. Are you hurt? Should I call for an ambulance?"
"Y-yeah! H-he tore my shoulder open. I-it's bleeding a lot."
The sounds of people on the other line had intensified, with footsteps and louder voices, and they were fading now; the blonde assumed that officers were being dispatched for his location now. "Alright. Do you know why your Father attacked you? Was he under any influences?"
Tweek was starting to shiver; so he attempted to start pulling his shirt back around him. "N-no, he wasn't drunk or, ngh, anything. H-he's been seriously sick all day...I-I think it's a f-fever maybe? I-I have no freaking clue! H-he's acting crazy!"
"Okay sir, remain calm, please. Police will be there to help you shortly. Please try to take care of your injury, and there will be an ambulance to help you soon, as well. Goodbye." The woman hung up, and Tweek glared at his cell phone, and simply dropped it to the floor, as his hands were coated in his own blood, while he fumbled with his shirt, trying to pull it on again, and trying to press the paper towel to his shoulder.
Mr. Tweak continued to assault the door, screaming, roaring as he did. Tweek slid back down to the floor, wondering why this had happened, why his Dad wasn't asking like the calm, distant father he had grown up to. The blonde looked at his shoulder, as he pulled his shirt closer around him; the blood was seeping through layers and layers of paper towel, and he was feeling a bit light-headed from what he guessed was blood loss. Tweek felt cold, and scared; he pulled his knees to his stomach, trying to warm himself, shaking, and he started to cry again.
Not much longer the police arrived; Tweek could hear them. The pounding against the door had stopped, along with his Dad's unintelligible screams and gurgles. It sounded like the police officers were trying to reason with the sick man; and then screamed again, and Tweek listened as he ran for the police. There were the sounds of crashing, and the yelling of the police officers; and one of them screamed in pain. Tweek flinched, and hugged his legs closer; it sounded like there were only two officers to start with, but it sounded as if a couple more ran in. There were more sounds of thrashing, with glass shattering and a shelf tumbling over again. The blonde's father was yelling, screaming, roaring; and it was muffled suddenly. There was more screaming on Tweek's Dad's part, but it sounded as if the police officers were talking amongst themselves, one sounding particularly pissed.
"Hello? Tweek? Are you in there?"
Tweek jumped at the sound of the police officer's voice. "Gah! Y-yes, I'm in here!"
"It's okay, son. We have your father contained. It's safe to come out now. The ambulance will be here for you in a few minutes." Tweek trembled; he wondered where his Dad was, and what their precious coffee shop had been reduced to due to the struggle. Tweek really didn't want to see quite yet.
"Are you okay? Do you need help in there?" The police officer paused. "Can you move? The door is locked, so for me to help you, I need you to unlock the door. It's okay, your Father won't be hurting you anymore." Tweek winced at the police officer's choice of words.
"Hey! Get out of here, kid!"
"Grab him!"
The men outside were shouting suddenly. The police officer also said something along the lines of, "Hey, what the hell, kid? Get out of here!"
"Tweek! It's Craig! ...It's okay now." That was all the blonde teen needed to hear; he stood quickly, although teetering, dizzy from the amount of blood that had left his body. "Please, come out. I saw your Dad, the police have him..."
Tweek didn't let his best friend continue, as he swung the door open again, and he threw himself into Craig's arms. Craig stumbled back, but caught his balance; first aid materials fell out of Craig's arms, along with a blanket. Tweek didn't really pay attention to the police officer that had tried to coax him out of the bathroom.
"T-Tweek? Are you okay?" The blonde was clutching Craig as well as he could, although he was shaking, and feeling very weak and tired. Craig pulled him out of his grasp a little, while Tweek had started to cry again; it was getting really hard for him to understand what was going on clearly. Craig's violet eyes widened, as he looked Tweek's shoulder over. "Oh, God. Tweek, what the hell did he do to you?"
The police officer had picked up the blanket Craig dropped, and sighed. Tweek looked up at him, and he could recognize him as Bebe Steven's father, with his curly bronze-blonde hair sticking out from his uniform hat, and with a groomed moustache. "Here, son." The man put the blanket around Tweek's thin shoulders, with Tweek nodding in thanks. The blonde stumbled though, almost falling backwards out of Craig's arms, but his friend caught him.
"Shit, Tweek. Come on, you should sit down." They started to lead Tweek down the hall; and there, Tweek could see the mayhem that had enveloped what was practically his home. There was only one out of four shelves standing, with broken cups and machinery lying around the wooden shelves that had fallen. Thankfully, the machines and equipment behind the front counter were untouched, but the rest of the store was a mess. There was the organ his father had puked up, still sitting there, with a couple police officers speculating on it. There were two police cars parked outside of Harbucks; and he could see his father in the back of one, with a bag over his head, and he was thrashing as much as he could restrained. Tweek paled. "Tweek?" Craig looked at him, worried. Tweek could hear his Dad's muffled screams from the car.
An ambulance was sitting outside of the store now, too. Tweek wondered when it had gotten there, but some people entered the store; immediately approaching him. Craig's grip tightened around him, but not by much, it seemed that Craig was very aware of how much pain the blonde was in.
"Come with us, please." One of the three people said that approached him, the other two were readying a stretcher for him. Tweek swayed, trying hard to focus on what was going on. Craig had him by his shoulders, and steered him to the stretcher, where they took Tweek from the other boy's grip.
The blonde's hand shot out after he was laid down for Craig's, and he could feel himself shaking. There were tears...and the taste of something bile in the back of his throat. "Craig." The taller boy's fingers curled around Tweek's bloody hand, and his other cupping the top of the blonde's hand. "Stay with me."
Craig smiled softly. "Of course."
Tweek's vision went black and cloudy, and he dropped out of consciousness.
When he awoke, there was screaming, fluids, needles, stretchers and too many bodies for him to see past. Tweek was lying there, wondering why there was so much screaming, and why he felt wet and sticky, and why he felt so, so sick. People were yelling at each other, and the teenager couldn't make any sense of it. Craig came to mind, and he began to panic.
The blinding light directly overhead made his head ache. "Nngh! Craig! W-where..." Before he could say anymore, he ducked his head and threw up, and realized he was the one screaming. Parts of his body twitched madly, pulsing with angry heat; and from what he could see of himself he had already thrown up all over himself and other places, too. It was thick, green, and foul-smelling. He began to thrash.
"Give me a sedative!" One of the doctors demanded.
There was a needle jabbed into the crook of his elbow, but he didn't even notice the trivial pain in comparison to the rest of his body. Tweek Tweak again dropped out of consciousness.
Some of the first things he could understand even remotely were that he felt numb, and very cold. There were voices, a couple of women talking in muted tones. The blonde was lying down, staring up at a ceiling, wondering where he was and what had happened.
"...Hgk." That was the small natural noise of his that gave him away.
"Tweek?"
Tweek looked to his side, to see Craig leaning close to him, his normally apathetic purple eyes filled with worry. Craig had one of his hands gripping his, holding it very softly; Tweek noted the rest of his arm was veiny and hooked up to an IV machine.
"...What happened...?" The blonde's own voice sounded a little alien to him, without the stuttering and usual high-pitched tone; this one was quiet and eerily calm.
Craig reached over and petted his hair with his free hand. "Well...not much after they took you to the hospital. They took care of you. You're okay now, Tweek." Craig's eyes darted away from his for a moment, and the blonde got the feeling Craig wasn't telling him something.
"Oh! Honey, are you okay?"
Mrs. Tweak took notice of her son's awareness just then, turning away from a nurse she had been talking to. She rushed forward, with Craig drawing back into his seat, slouching like he normally did. The brown-haired woman stroked Tweek's hand, kissed his forehead, and petted his hair and face, looking happy and relieved. "Thank goodness you're okay, sweetie...Oh, what would I have done, if..." She trailed off, with moisture gathering in her hazel eyes.
Tweek frowned slightly, feeling very groggy and as if he was missing something important. "Mom...? What's going on? W-what happened?" His mother bit her lip, and a thought slammed into Tweek. "Where's Dad? W-what happened to him?"
Mrs. Tweak shook, and bit her lip. "...He's okay now, honey. You're okay. We're...all okay." A tear streamed down her cheek, and Craig moved out of the chair very quietly, walking towards another chair in the corner. Tweek's Mom sat in the chair, not noticing the black-haired boy had moved for her benefit. Tweek watched as his Mom sat there, crying quietly, still holding his hand. "We're okay, Tweek."
The blonde teenager looked at his friend in the corner. One look at Craig's face told Tweek otherwise.
There's going to be more gore, profanity and horror, etc. Lots more.
I finished this chapter a few months ago, haha. I've been super busy though, and unable to update, and I apologize.
If you have any requests, such as pairings, please let me know! I'd appreciate hetero pairing requests, except for Stan x Wendy and Kyle x Bebe. As much as I love slash, too many slash pairings seems...unrealistic. If you do have any slash requests however, let me know! I won't do Kenny x Butters, Craig x Clyde or Token x Clyde though, sorry.
~Morte Candy.