[Craig]

"What if you're not here anymore?"

Large eyes peered up at him, framed by golden locks.

"I'll try my best."

Such a pitiful answer Craig thinks as he holds a sleeping Tweek. He's still awake, thinking about their conversation before the exhausted blond fell asleep.

He doesn't wake the other man, he knows he still has trouble actually falling asleep and staying asleep. He doesn't mind, of course, serving as his pillow. He still loves holding him, knowing Tweek feels safe enough to fall asleep around him, is one of the greatest reasons for his being alive. For Tweek.

He knows, he should have more than the pittance of reasons, more than Tweek. He has Stripe, of course.

But anything else? Not so much. He's on an antidepressant again, though he's not entirely sure if it's working. He certainly drinks more water, cotton-mouth being a side effect.
Unconsciously he rubs circles on Tweeks back, his thoughts aren't all-consumingly desolate, as often. So maybe they are helping. Maybe the biweekly therapy sessions are helping too. He doesn't know really though, he's felt this way for so goddamn long, how can he be sure anything's getting better or if he's finally just used to feeling like this?

Carefully, he moved to get his phone out of his pocket. He logged into the page he helped mod with Bebe and the others. The fingers of his left hand hovered over the keys, contemplating.

Finally though, the words began to flow.

'Reason

More is better,
Isn't it?

In this case at least…

Two isn't enough,

Or is it?

For me, two feels like both,

Yet not.
Broken down to the core,

It's only one.

Is that really enough reason?

For those that depend,

Strength of reason.

Just one.

What happens if not?

I don't know.

Will we have to find out?

Reason enough.'

He signed and posted it. Darkening his phone again, he stared into the darkness of Tweek's room. Not for the first time, he wondered about asking Tweek to live with him. He could afford a bigger place, still have separate bedrooms and an additional one for Stripe. He'd been looking at places, there was one, not too far from Tweek Bros., easy walking distance. But would Tweek want that? He was afraid to ask. So he didn't, but he kept the listing saved, hoping no one else would get it before he had the courage to ask.

He stifled a yawn, gazing at Tweek, who was still asleep, breathing evenly.
Tweek hadn't explicitly said what was going on, but they had been friends long enough for him to have a decently good idea of what it had been.

The same shit that he wondered about. Wendy.

One of the smartest people to have attended Park County High. Someone they had grown up with. Sure, neither of them had been terribly close to her, but they had all gone through school together. Lived in the same neighborhood.

'Knuckles bloody and bruised, a cigarette hanging from his lips, still smoldering, he would have to take a drag if he didn't want to have to relight it soon.
But right then, Craig couldn't have cared less about the stupid thing. He felt so empty. His rage had finally erupted, luckily the only damage to himself, he wouldn't get suspended again. He took a half-hearted drag, staring at the snow on the ground. It always seemed to be snowy. He loved the snow, the icy sting on his hands, especially when they were like this. He crouched down and plunged his hands into the crisp white powder. Sighing, his eyes closed and he stayed like that for a while.
He heard someone approaching and his eyes snapped open and he stood, turning to the sound, anger once again dominating his features.

"If you don't want people to worry, you have to do it where they won't notice."

He glared at her, saying nothing, stuffing his clenched fists into the pockets of his hoodie.

Wendy. What the fuck did she know?

"Just a thought," she muttered as she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, taking a long, slow first drag.

He just stared at her, anger forgotten, surprise overriding anything else. He had no idea Wendy smoked. Her eyes stayed on him as she took another drag, eventually she stubbed it out in the snow and left him alone.

His anger only simmered now, warring with the constant desolation. He clenched his jaw against the urge to punch the wall again. He needed a fucking coffee. He checked his phone, tossing away his cigarette. School had another two hours. He glared at the phone, eventually reaching the decision to ditch the rest of the day and hang out at Tweek Bros., he knew Tweek worked that afternoon and he wanted to see his favorite blond. Tweek always made him feel better.
As he walked, he thought about Wendy. Fucking weird as hell. She didn't seem like the smoker type, and what the hell had she meant about where people wouldn't notice? He wondered over it as he ordered his coffee and took up residence in a booth to wait for Tweek.
By the time the blond arrived, he wondered if he was right, but wasn't about to ask her.'

He swore under his breath. Fucking hell, Wendy. Had she really given such a large hint and he hadn't fucking noticed? Just went on about his life. That familiar anger roared, but it was muted, in the usual way the more negative things were when he was around Tweek or Stripe.
He slowly worked through a relaxation exercise this therapist had taught him. He felt the tension gradually drain away and he was suddenly extremely tired. Carefully, he returned his phone to his pocket and moved just a little to a more comfortable position. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the warmth of Tweek's still sleeping body. He idly wished for a blanket, but that didn't matter much as soon he was asleep, still holding his boyfriend close.