A painful bumping of the chest. Breathe. The tingling feeling of blood rushing back into previously dead veins. Breathe. It hurts to think, to blink, to move. Breathe, you have to, dammit…so many people are counting on you.
Kenny forced himself to open his eyes, looking up at the sky. The gray clouds promising more sleet and drizzle to add to the snow already piled on the ground. He blinked the snowflakes out of his eyes before lifting a shaky hand to clean his face off. He finally sat up and looked around at the Tegrity Farms barn and house in the distance. He could see a speck of a person walking back and forth. Arms out, unsteady but walking.
"Stan? Hey, Stan!" Kenny called out, excited to see his friend getting better. Maybe all that happened was just a bad dream.
It took almost a week but Stan had indeed fashioned himself a pair of new legs. It had been a great effort but he found himself standing on the front porch of the house, gripping the railing for support.
"I don't know, maybe you need a cane or something?" Bebe said as she stood behind him.
"What use would I be fighting as a superhero, if my enemy can just knock the cane out of my hand? No, I need to walk normally, maybe be better than before." Stan said over his shoulder as he stubbornly kept walking down the front porch, his hand gripping the railing. It hurt, his whole body was screaming in agony even if his ruined legs were healing, but he couldn't stand another moment of laying down and being treated like a child. No, he had to get Toolshed back to his former glory, combined with Wendy's powers he would be reborn as Toolshed 2.0.
"Clyde do something, please." Bebe cried as Clyde stepped forward to try and help Stan.
"I got ya, dude." Clyde said as he put arms gingerly around Stan but Stan shrugged him off.
"I told you I got it, let me do this myself." Stan snapped as he pushed off Clyde and took a few more steps into the yard. He grit his teeth as he felt his legs shake slightly in their new metal casings, he took a few deep breaths to get his bearings as he pushed on to keep walking. Wendy had given him the blueprints to make these legs, he knew instinctively how to put them together but learning to walk again- that would be all on him. Stan was never one to backdown from a challenge.
Clyde watched as Stan crossed the field on his new legs, looking nervously between him and Bebe still on the porch, her arms crossed and face set in worry. A thick layer of snow had fallen the night before and conditions were icy. No one wanted to see Stan hurt himself again, but he was so damn stubborn.
Stan lifted one leg at a time, trudging through the snow- sad but resigning himself to never getting to feel the satisfying crunch of snow under his feet, but grateful he was still alive. He looked up to see someone dressed in black walking towards him from a distance. His eyes squinted as he looked at the figure approaching, Clyde and Bebe standing up- ready to defend if trouble was approaching.
Kenny broke into a run as he saw Stan walking around. He sprinted the last few yards to close the gap as he grabbed his friend into a hug. Stan fell back as Kenny climbed on top of him in a hug.
"Ow, stop that hurts, nice to see you too." Stan said as he laid on the ground.
"Sorry, just excited to see you walking again. Hey, Clyde, looking way better than the last time I saw you." Kenny helped Stan up and went to give Clyde a hug. "Bebe, looking lovely as always."
Bebe sighed as Clyde went to help Stan up. Stan took Clyde's help this time as he went to balance on his new legs again.
"Thanks dude, hopefully I'm going to be back into fighting shape soon as Toolshed 2.0. Maybe restore some other things along the way." Stan walked carefully up the stairs, still annoyed with his shakiness, he had to use the banister to climb the stairs, he just needed more practice.
Stan knew Kyle was depending on him. Everyone was.
Kyle snapped his eyes open, peering at the analog alarm clock on his shelf. He woke up an hour early. He was exhausted keeping up with his guard duties, along with exploring the more hidden parts of the prison. He thought of Butters, who was a dumbass but harmless, stuck in that cell. He had to figure out a way to break his old friend loose without getting caught. He knew his other friends were floating around the prison as well. Tweek tended to be skittish and fearful, and would be traumatized to be in prison. But hopefully he still had his superpowers and able to help. He didn't even know if Tweek knew his other half Craig was gone. Worst yet, Kyle hadn't made it back to Stan and the others. Stan being injured, Clyde comatose, and Bebe on her own needing to take care of them, but they desperately needed supplies.
Kyle got up and lifted his mattress. He managed to filch some bandages, an array of pills, a few medical books, and a big stash of antibiotics for Stan, hydration for everyone. His day off was coming up and he'd make some excuse to his roommates that he couldn't join the weekend D&D session to sneak away.
The other problem with Kyle's skimming was he owed Bebe a new car. Cars were far and in between here, broken down and stripped beyond repair. But someone in the prison had a bright red sports car and Kyle was still trying to figure out who they were and where they kept it. If they were a person that Kyle could steal from and survive.
He flopped the mattress down and did a few stretches to wake himself up, get some blood pumping through his frozen extremities. It was his Friday and he had some time away from the prison coming up. Most guards kept to themselves or didn't go out much for fun. He thought back to Butters in that jail cell and Tweek being somewhere and unknown about Dougie.
Kyle managed to boil his water for his shower and grab a piece of hard bread for breakfast and was out the door with time to spare. It was a windy morning and overcast as the snow storm from the night before covered the winding roads in fresh powder. Kyle trudged through it, keeping his eyes peeled for a rumbling red sports car. It often showed up bright and early for whatever douchebag kid was driving it. Kyle needed to see where exactly it was parked. He wanted to steal it for Bebe, but he just wanted to see who owned it for the sheer audacity of driving something so flashy when everyone around them was suffering.
He would ask around who the boss of the prison was. He was met with a lot of hushed tones, hard stares, or confusion. What he knew about the boss was that they were the first in the building every morning and left early in that flashy car. Kyle walked through the snow, eyeing the road for any sign of the douchebag in charge. He spotted some bushes between two small houses he could duck behind to not be spotted.
Kyle knew he was crazy to think, but paranoia and hunger were getting to him. Cartman was dead. He and Stan saw his nasty rotting body blow up and destroy their lives even more than the corona virus had. But there was some itch in Kyle's brain, a fully authoritarian prison where only a few were granted luxuries? Seemed like something that Cartman would be behind. Cartman would thrive in a place like that if he was in charge. Kyle couldn't help but think of all the times Cartman wanted him dead- that bomb was targeting him. Maybe Cartman was going back for revenge beyond the grave, but how?
Kyle saw headlights approaching in the dark and ducked in an alleyway. He saw The car was an old black beater. Kyle followed the headlights as they stopped through the gate to talk to the guard, being let in, headed to the back of the imposing prison building. The place was so big that a whole secret wing to experiment superpowers on people might be well hidden, but it was a bit too easy for Kyle to break in. A trap to be set, it smelled like something Cartman would plan to fuck with him.
A faint rumbling in the distance as the gates opened up for the red sports car. The garish color zipping by without even looking at the guard. This person was powerful enough to not need clearance. Kyle ran to the gate and squinted as the red car turned a corner to disappear behind the building. Kyle felt a sinking in his chest that if he were to steal the red car, he'd have to make sure he had Butters, Tweek, and the few friends he made far away from the prison and safe. That also means he would need superhero backup if he was to free everyone, both the prisoners and the kids forced to care for them.
A snowflake fell and landed in Kyle's eye. He grumbled and rubbed his face, dreading the morning chores he had to get done but curious to explore once he had his downtime. It made him sad the prisoners had nothing to do while occupying their cold cells. No wonder they were pissed off and always trying to get at Kyle and the other guards. If only there was some way to break them out without getting caught.
Kyle stopped in his tracks as the realization came over him. Break them out. Break all the kids out. They didn't really do anything bad, but had been locked up for the crime of being kids. Kyle had disobeyed authority plenty of times, he was doing it now. Maybe he could break the Superheros out first to escape safely and the rest after.
Kyle got in line to enter the prison, determined to grab everything he could to help his friends. He was given breakfast trays to hand out, rewarmed oatmeal- not even fruit or nuts to add in. It made him sad, thinking of how his mother would make it special for him before she died. No one could make simple oatmeal as good as she did, and Kyle certainly wasn't going to make his prisoners happy with what he was serving now.
"Here, dude. Breakfast." Kyle slipped the bowls into the cell. He was not surprised when it was thrown back to him without being touched.
"Your breakfast, sir." The guard said as he set a covered tray in front of Tweek.
"What is it?" Tweek asked as he sipped his coffee, he had lost count of how many cups he'd had since he woke up.
"Monte Cristo breakfast sandwich with sweet potato fries." The guard said as he went to lock up Tweek's door.
"Huh, like we used to serve at Craig's and my coffee shop." Tweek's stomach did a turn, the food did look good but he was sure someone was messing with him. He eyed the plate cautiously to make sure there wasn't anything hidden in it.
"Anything else I can get you?" The guard asked again, his tone sounding more like a butler than a prison guard which weirded Tweek out. He was being treated too nicely.
"I want to see the boss, or Red. And more coffee." Tweek twitched as he took another gulp from his mug, he knew he could have whatever he wanted from this prison cell. But the fake freedom of things he could have was making his paranoia worse.
As soon as the guard left, Tweek got up to pour another cup of coffee and flipped open a notebook given to him. He was under the guise of working out a story on the page, little doodles at the corners of the page. But in reality he was wracking his brain for who knew about the coffee shop that would also sell out to the prison. He had to stop himself to not get angry that he was also benefiting from selling out. Only him and Craig knew the details of who they did business with at their coffee shop, Tweek's hand gripped the pencil a little too tightly. Craig dealt more with the business side of things than Tweek had and now he was dead. Tweek's job was to make the coffee and perfect the recipes, the Monte Cristo sandwich tasted exactly how it was when Tweek Bros coffee would make it.
He took a bite of his breakfast and started to make a list of everyone who has been in contact with the restaurant. Mostly the Superheros and kids in town would be served by Tweek Bros Coffee. They grew the coffee at nearby Tegrity Farms, the meat for the ham was from nearby Jenkin's Ranch. The superheros would trade the kids who ran Jenkins for fresh produce. They used to have an abundance of chickens and eggs at Tegrity Farms, but not as much in recent years. Tweek licked the powdered sugar on top of the bread and dipped the corner of the sandwich in strawberry jelly. Strawberries were a luxury in themselves and the jelly even more scarce as the years went on since the apocalypse. The jam was the give away, a recipe found in an old book that became a staple of what they served.
So where was the prison getting its jam, eggs and sugar?
Tweek shivered in his prison cell as his paranoid mind turned over the possibilities. No one else has eggs, South Park kept most of the goods to themselves. Maybe it was selfish, seeing the treatment Tweek was getting here. He didn't want to listen to those who were in charge. He ate the last bit of his breakfast and sipped his coffee, his hand trembled as his pen scratched at his paper.
Someone who knew how to make these sandwiches, and have the ingredients had to be someone Tweek knew. He was cooperating so he got what he wanted. Everyone was dead. Dead.
Tweek tried to keep thinking rationally but that was never his strong suit. He needed Craig to balance him, to protect him, make him whole. He wasn't sure if it was the paranoia, the coffee, the sandwich, or his own self loathing but his comfortable cell suddenly was way too claustrophobic for him. Tweek's eyes searched the room as he carefully closed the notebook. They were watching him. Who they were he didn't know.
"Fuck. Just let me know. Stop fucking with me." Tweek said out loud to the room. The last cell had a mirror but anything could be a camera, a microphone, some surveillance equipment.
Tweek jumped up and went to the book shelf, starting to yank things off, games and hardback covers crashed to the floor. Tweek grabbed the entire shelf and pulled it down, searching desperately for a camera or peep hole. The wall was blank. He went to his bed and pulled off all the blankets and pillows, scattering them around the room. He turned his attention to the desk, grabbing at a chair and throwing it with a primal scream as the cheap wood splintered, yanking the drawers out and running his hands around the edges for some kind of recording device.
"I know you're watching me, I know you're lying to me." Tweek screamed out at his cell. He banged his head against the wall and screamed, the emotion and grief swallowing him like a tidal wave. Rage boiled back out as Tweek slammed his hands down on the desk over and over and eventually his his head on the wall over and over repeating. "I want to be with Craig, I want to be with Craig."
The butler-like security guard who had been so nice before tackled Tweek to the ground as he saw Red approach him. She uncapped a hypodermic needle and stuck it in his thigh. "Shhh rest, you'll see him soon enough." She said darkly.
An ungrateful breakfast later and Kyle found himself slipping back into the janitor's closet to see what else he could take back to his friends. His footsteps echoed down the halls and he stopped to not draw too much attention to himself.
He contemplated visiting Butters but seeing the corridor where his cell was had lots of guard activity in it he decided to avoid that area and turn a corner into somewhere different. This new room was dark, scientific equipment scattered around as screens and buttons illuminated as the only source of light. Kyle whispered "what the fuck?" Under his breath as he approached the machines. Stacks of boxes seemed to be holding the room together as Kyle took a peek for any supplies he could steal and use. He found an old looking box that looked like a first aid kit and stood on his tiptoes to look and see if it had anything of use.
A slight clattering as the boxed below slid and fell onto the floor.
Kyle ducked behind the machine and held his breath as he waited for someone to come and bust him. But after several tense moments he peeked out from behind the machine, eyes scanning the ground as he saw a few bottles of medicine he quickly slipped into his pockets. There were more heavy duty painkillers that could help Stan or kill Clyde in a minute. Kyle's eyes fell to a file with a list of names that was all too familiar.
He reached forward to grab the file and hold them under the light of the electronic machines to see better. Spread out under the dim glow was reports of all the Superheros who had perished. Files of statistics, diagnoses, autopsies, and eventually ways to harvest the powers from the heros.
"What the fuck?" Kyle whispered for the second time that day as he read over the file of Jimmy Valmer aka Fastpass. Power of superspeed, collected and distributed among test subjects. All succumbed to powers making them age too fast. Tolkien Black aka Tupperware, powers to withstand any brute force and impervious to getting hurt. The test subjects seemingly would survive if they got this power, but quickly died as their skin and organs failed and turned to hard plastic. Kyle looked at the reports in horror at the true purpose for the prison. They wanted to do human experiments on the kids and make the super powers stick, just no one normal would survive after they were given superpowers.
Kyle froze when he saw his own name, Human Kite, aka Kyle Broflovski, healing and wind powers. Missing. He dropped the files to the floor, a little afraid if they were found out of order it could be traced back to him. He packed away the files and restacked them, slipping a few copies to show Bebe and Stan when he got back. He was looking over the machines. This was where you could gain powers from a dead superhero, but you would be dead yourself soon. It made Kyle want to vomit, someone had killed all his friends, hurt his very best friend and for what? A failed science experiment gone wrong?
Kyle put the room back together the best he could but his hands were shaking. He wanted to check on Butters before he took off, possibly take Butters along with him if possible. A commotion could be heard outside as someone pounded on the lab door several times. Kyle looked around quickly and saw a back door he could hide in, he slipped away just in time as guards and workers were yelling about the boss being called down.
The new room was frozen, Kyle looked above at a bare lightbulb but dared not turn it on to call attention to himself. He could hear more frenzied talking about calling the boss down as he bumped into a table on wheels, a sharp screech as the gurney behind him moved and something started to move under the sheet. Kyle finally felt something drop and he turned to see what it was.
A thin delicate hand, so familiar with an IV in the back of it, collecting fluid.
Kyle felt his breath catch in his throat, he didn't want to believe it but wanted to be face to face with the evil in front of him. He pulled back the sheet, his stomach dropping at the sight before him. Last time he saw Wendy she was already dead and he had dropped her into the frozen lake that formed over their former home. Her familiar dark hair now in a tangle with frozen dirt and leaves, her eyes, unfocused forever, skin a mottled blue. Her body lay here, frozen and persevered as they collected samples to try and inject into more foolish kids hoping they would gain superpowers and not die.
Against his better judgment, Kyle started lifting sheets and opening up drawers in the morgue. All were kids he didn't know in various stages of decay, he found the body of Fastpass, and the headless body of Tupperware. He poked at a body labeled 'experiment' and it was indeed stiff and rock hard, this poor kid wanted to be indestructible which he was, but also dead.
Once it was quiet again, Kyle slipped out the door, making sure he had a few choice files hidden in his pockets, folded into the tiniest of squares so they stayed hidden. He hurried down the hall, determined to warn Butters when another commotion was heard down the hall. The door slammed open as a guard roughly shoved Kyle to the side. "We got another sick prisoner, hurry up and help us before it's both our asses." The guard said roughly.
Kyle froze, looking down at the gurney to see his friend Tweek passed out with his eyes rolled back. "What the hell happened?" Kyle said, still shaken from the horror of seeing his other friends dead.
"Started freaking out for no reason, hit his head and arms on the desk and we had to sedate him." The other guard peeled back Tweek's eye but he didn't move from his passed out state.
Kyle reached down to grab his hand, checking if his arm was broken or even if he was still breathing. An idea went off in his mind. "Let's take him to the medical area and get him patched up. He's in a fragile state and we don't want him to get worse."
The guard's young face looked frightened as he nodded vigorously. "The boss will be mad if this one goes downhill. Do you know what you're doing?"
"Yeah, I have some training. Take me to the infirmary so I can see what supplies are on hand." Kyle kept his face set behind his mask as he and the guard wheeled Tweek down the hall and behind a locked door labeled 'authorized personnel only'.
Kyle held his breath as they entered the hospital wing of the jail. It was quiet minus the groans and cries of pain as injured and sick inmates layed in beds or cots in various states. Kyle felt his heart break, wanting to help everyone but they were concentrating on Tweek right now. This was Kyle's fault- not directly but whatever had knocked Tweek out he would get better from. But these non superhero kids who wanted a chance to feel special and gain superpowers, now their bodies were broken beyond repair. Even Stan with his missing legs would get better, but not these kids.
"In here." The guard said as his fingers fumbled with some keys at his belt. He was shaking so badly he couldn't fit the key in the lock.
"Here, allow me." Kyle said as the kid handed the keys over. He unlocked the door easily as Tweek still remained unresponsive on his gurney.
"Thanks…Keates. Management is going to kill me if something happens to a VIP inmate." The kid said as he slid open the door.
Kyle opened his mouth to ask what made Tweek VIP when he looked in shock as the room behind the door. It was a typical looking hospital room from before the apocalypse, but behind were shelves stacked neatly with boxes of medical supplies. Kyle could see army surplus sides boxes of all the bandages he could think of, bottles and IV bags of medicine, oxygen masks and tanks, EKG and X-ray equipment, slings and a wheelchair. Kyle wanted to poke around to see what else was back there but instead his attention was turned to making sure Tweek was okay.
"What makes him a VIP inmate?" Kyle asks as he helps the guard lift Tweek up into the hospital bed.
"You know why." The guard says as he looks over the shelves, intimidated and confused what supplies to grab. "Do you know what to grab for him?"
"Yeah I got it…I'll put some in a bag, thanks." Kyle walked past the shelves, surprised there was even more supplies the deeper he went, rows of shelves stacked neatly with boxes he wanted to dig his hands through. It was an odd comfort, something greatly missed. He grabbed a splint and bandages along with some antiseptic solution and gauze to check out the injuries on Tweek's arms.
Kyle peeled back Tweek's sleeve and saw the scrapes and scratches up his arm, he felt up his friend's arm. "I don't think it's broken, I don't know how to use that X-ray machine- wish I did." He got to work cleaning the injuries on Tweek's arm.
"I didn't break his arm, he did it himself." The guard insisted. "Don't tell anyone or let it get back to the boss- they'll make me like the rest."
"What do you mean the rest?" Kyle asked as he wiped dried blood from Tweek's arm and started to apply bandages. "Is the big boss that scary?"
"I don't know! Considering what he let happen here we should be afraid of him!" The kid said frantically as Kyle slowly put the splint on Tweek's arm and started to wrap it.
"Just who is this boss? Got a name?" Kyle asked, desperately wanting some fucking answers. He shook Tweek gently on the opposite shoulder but his friend was still out of it. He decided to check Tweek for other injuries after he was done wrapping his arm.
The kid shook his head. "No one knows, he keeps to himself except for New Kid and Red who report to him. Has an office on the top floor and a penthouse in town. Drives a red race car to work everyday. Maybe I'll get something that cool when I've worked long enough."
"Yeah I guess." Kyle went back to the shelves and grabbed a nearby bag, throwing in bandages, antibacterial supplies, and medicine. He dragged a large overhead light to Tweek's bed and clicked it on to check on his passed out friend. "Goddamn they did a number on him, he has a bunch of scratches on his head and scalp and he's cold as fuck."
"Damn I'm in so much trouble, but Red told me to give him a shot- he was freaking out. Dangerous." The guard paced back and forth.
"Shut up!" Kyle snapped. "Grab me a thermometer, blankets and maybe an IV pole. We can see how cold he is and do treatment as needed." His mind flew back to helping Bebe make an IV for Stan and hoping Tweek would come out okay enough so he would live another day to hear his friend's paranoid ramblings.
The guard came back, hands shaking as he handed over the requested supplies. The shrill scrape of the IV bag across the tiled floor wasn't helping Kyle's anxiety as he stuck the thermometer in Tweek's mouth and threw some warm blankets on top of him. It was deadly quiet as Kyle grabbed a needle and pulled out Tweek's non injured arm to insert and IV for only the second time in his life. "Sorry for snapping, you're doing okay and we'll make him feel better soon. Don't worry about the boss."
"No, you don't understand. This prisoner is special, he's the bosses-" The guard stammered.
"Yeah I get it, you want to keep the superheros alive." Kyle tried to ease the boy's worry but the thermometer beeped that Tweek's temperature was dangerously low. "Shit, let's warm up some saline and hopefully that'll help him." Kyle said trying to keep his tone calm to not freak the kid out more.
The sound of official looking footsteps could be heard from the hall as people made way for the big boss. "Shit he's coming. He's going to know I did this." The guard said again as Kyle couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"I'll go find something to warm up these fluids. Just call me if he gets worse or stops breathing or something." Kyle rolled his eyes as he grabbed the IV bags to go to the back of the shelves to find something to warm up the saline. He spied a bunch of hot water bottles and a radiator, thinking he could warm the bags up and not have them damaged or too hot for Tweek's cold veins. He draped the bottles on the heat source and spied a backpack, faded green and big- something that looked straight of of the army. Kyle grabbed it and started to put in a few other IVs for Stan, bottles of painkillers and antibiotics, bandages and topical wraps, anything he thought could be used.
"I'm almost done warming these up." He called out heard the door open and footsteps got closer. Then he saw it, a very familiar face. "No, it couldn't be." He said under his breath, as the boss raised a middle finger to the guard that had been helping Kyle take care of Tweek.
Red and Douchebag flanked to the sides of their boss, Craig Tucker who was in to check on his boyfriend who he heard was injured.
Kyle hid his face and tried his best to slip out the hospital room door before his old (dead?) teammate or his lackeys spotted him. Anger seethed inside and Kyle almost wanted to run up and punch Craig in his bored looking face. He sold Coon and Friends out, for what? A nice apartment and a shiny red racer? But it was too dangerous where he was right now and he certainly didn't want to get caught.
Kyle looked up to a vent in the ceiling. He was very tall but rail thin, it was his best chance of escaping without being seen. Kyle put a foot up on the shelf and started to climb, he tried his best to be as quiet as possible and for the first time missed his ability to fly. Being a superhero might have put a target on his back to be killed but he was going to die if Craig saw him.
A few more steps and pulling back of the grate as Kyle tossed in the backpack of supplies before pulling himself into the ventilation system. Good thing the prison was cheap on the comfort of its inmates, there was no hot air going through. Kyle started to crawl through the vent as quietly as possible when he felt something heavy in his pocket. He reaches down, feeling the set of keys he forgot to give back to the guard he was helping.
"Oh shit." Kyle couldn't help but smile as he kept crawling through the vents.
Fucking Craig, the guards were scared of Craig. Kyle couldn't help but laugh if it wouldn't make noise in the vent and give him away. He made his way through the prison keeping an eye on the activity below. Before he knew it he was in the spot he wanted to be, he dropped down into the janitor's closet and slid it closed before he got caught. But even if he did, what could Craig possibly do to him?
Kyle held his head high, a plan forming on how to help the kids trapped in the prison. He would need backup, but for now he needed all the superheroes he could get.
"Get up, prisoner." Kyle said in a stern tone as he unlocked the door to Butters cell.
Butters lifted his head. "What are you doing? Am I in trouble?" He hesitated to say the name Kyle out loud.
"Shut up, I'm escorting you…prisoner." Kyle said again, hoping his message to Butters was coming through.
"But why? What are they going to do to me now?" Butters looked past Kyle for any clue what he wanted. Unsure as Kyle entered the cell and grabbed him roughly.
"I'm here to escort you, inmate. Don't fight me." Kyle placed some handcuffs on Butters as he got him up.
"But wait…won't I get in trouble?" Butters pleaded as Kyle let out an audible sigh.
"Any worse than you are now? Come on." Kyle grabbed Butters, his backpack and lead him out towards the exit of the prison.
Hours passed before Tweek cracked his eyes open, he was still freezing but he looked down at his hand, his skin blistering red. Another familiar hand holding it. His eyes followed the hand to the arm to the face attached to it.
"Craig? I'm dead. Oh shit I'm dead." Tweek's eyes widened as he tried to sit up in his hospital bed.
"No Tweek you're not dead. You're safe and I'm right here with you." Craig got up carefully to push Tweek down. Tweek couldn't help but grab at his shirt and pull him down into a kiss.
"But how?" Tweek murmured as his lips touched his boyfriends. That familiar feeling, the way he smelled like soap and the way Craig held him.
"Tweek you're sick and hurt. Just rest and I'll tell you later." Craig said as he returned his boyfriend's kiss.