Revelations

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Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace. Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte d'espace.Tu es une perte 

Muted sage eyes fluttered open. He knew.

(2)146 DAYS, 14 HOURS, 17 MINUTES 

Tweek felt like sometimes he was born exhausted. He could walk around, never once surprised. Never once conflicted. Not anymore, at least. It’d been that way for so long. He could walk through his neighborhood, silently droning on about his favorite and least favorite parts of it all, relentlessly unchanging. It had always been the same. Maybe it always would be. 

He hated the winter. 

He hated when the sky got dark. 

He hated being cold. 

Or fighting in the cold. 

Twẻek. I nee̷̾̏d yͤͭ͟ơu to do somȇ̪t̮̔h͔̅̓ing fö̰̺r m̺̣̋e. 

He sighed, throwing on a chunky sweater. 

He liked warm sweaters. 

He liked when it snowed just a little. 

He hated hail. 

Twee̴̽k, I n͑eed ý̴ou to g̎͠o baċk to Dȅ͓ņ̺ver. 

He took a slow sip of his hot chocolate, before glaring down into his mug. “I don’t like when you make me leave,” he responded firmly. “I don’t want to go back to Denver.” 

He liked hot chocolate. He hated coffee. 

Twe͡ek̇. You dó̗n’t hav͂̀͡e a cħoicê̸ͥ. 

He hated people who yelled. He hated what it sounded like when people were disappointed. 

He pulled himself together and packed a bag. He took the longest shower he possibly could before strolling into his parents room, ignoring the burnt plastic smell. He sighed, ultimately deciding not to bother. They wouldn’t notice, but he didn’t need anything they had to offer anymore. There was no point. He stopped back in his room to water his plants. 

He liked green. He liked plants. 

He eyed his stuffed animal. The only remnant from his childhood he really held onto. It was a stupid little sea slug, the damn thing worn and ugly as ever. Still, it reminded him of a different Tweek. It wasn’t a better time, but he was better. He still had hope. He grabbed it and stuffed it in his bag.

He liked stuffed animals. He liked cute things. 

He walked down the street, ignoring the people he passed. He kept his head down as he walked towards the bus stop. It felt so easy like this. For a few seconds, he could forget that he wasn’t just Tweek. And for just a tiny fraction, he could forget that he just was sometimes. Neither was worse, he thought. Neither was quite better either. 

He liked crowds. 

Someone shoulder checked him. He rolled his eyes, continuing forward without reacting, despite how much he wanted to. 

He hated people. 

He smiled to himself when a stray cat ran up to him. He pet its head, the familiar looking tabby excited to see him. “I’m off,” he murmured as he bent down slightly. “I’ll see ya.” 

He liked cats. 

He kept walking. 

He hated traffic. He hated honking. 

He hated loud noises. 

He hated the bus. 

He hated home. He hated school. 

He looked at the clock one more time before he boarded the first bus. 

He hated clocks. 

He hated the way that time slipped away without permission. 

The first assignment Tweek got when he’d made it to Denver was to fight a demon. That was one of his jobs. It was just exhausting. Being good was exhausting. It shouldn't feel like this, should it? 

T̖̙̓̂̂̕͡we̫̦̍͝ek̩̻̈̈ͨ͢͡. 

Is the world really so bad that this is what it means to be good?’

Twͮ̈e̤ek. 

He took a slow deep breath, trying to pull himself back together. He’d survived this long by being good. By being the favorite. He was an offering in the grand scheme and he was the favorite. He was loved as he was led to slaughter. He didn’t think he could but he was and that was close enough. 

So he would be good!
He liked to be good. It felt good to be good, if he wasn’t thinking about it.

He was good as he stepped into the realm. He was good as he gently clasped his hands together and let his eyes flutter shut to say a silent prayer. He was good as they opened and he actually took the time to observe his surroundings. It was dangerous to go inside untransformed, but the angels had always protected him when God couldn’t. 

He walked, ignoring the whispers of the wind or how comfortable he felt in the gray hellscape. He didn’t usually feel comfortable in these wretched places, but every now and then he’d feel this small tinge of familiarity within them. He always kept that to himself. He didn’t have a lot of secrets that he kept from Leslie. He only really held onto things when he thought they’d come with a lecture he was honestly too tired to hear. 

But as he walked through the infinite cavernous void, eyes falling upon a single withered flower that had grown out of the cracks, something weird spread throughout his chest. He was disconnected from his emotions in a way that felt profound. Trying to make sense of them almost always felt impossible, but this hit him hard enough that he actually stopped walking to look at the poor thing. A petal detached, dancing across the air as it hit the stone ground. 

An unfamiliar tightness took hold in his chest. He knew he’d felt it before. It was something he used to feel often when he was small. But that was so long ago and there were so many memories to override those ones. He didn’t get it anymore. 

Twęek? 

He frowned slightly as his mind started to wander. Usually he was better at forcing himself together. It was embarrassing, despite no one being around to actually see it. When emotions like this would creep up on him, he’d get sloppy. Whenever the realization he’d perpetually avoided came back to hit him like a truck, everything would halt. 

I’m not happy

T̗̗̚͞we̢͎ͨ͛ͨͯͪek͡.

He blinked hard, forcing a tiny smile on his face. “Sorry.” 

A̿ͩre yo̾u͉͂ alright, Tweek? 

“Yup. Just a little tired from the ride, I guess,” he responded quietly as he started to walk again. “You know how it is,” he tacked on. 

She didn’t respond, only adding to the pit forming in his stomach. Angels had a lot going on. Just because she didn’t always respond verbally didn’t mean she didn’t really love him. You’re being childish. He exhaled slowly, trying to turn it all off. He reveled in the safety of the numbness he was usually able to force himself into. 

But seeing a flower in a place like this did something to him. His safety blanket wasn’t just ripped away from him, it felt like it was lit on fire. Being good is difficult. The right choice isn’t always the easy one. He pushed forward, repeating the mantra in his head on a loop. He was fixing this world. He was helping. He was protecting people from demons. He had a purpose. He was chosen. It was just hard and that was okay because it had to be okay. 

The demon was unlike the majority in a lot of ways. The most concerning one being that his lightning didn’t work on it. “Leslie! What the fuck do I do?!” he hissed when he shot out a second volt towards the beast that had started to tear apart its very cage upon the first impact. He wasn’t hurting it at all, he was just enraging it. 

The monster was a large wolf, shrouded in a thick fog. It howled and snarled as it trashed around its own realm and beelined in every direction Tweek ran. He shot out another, much stronger volt. Leslie wasn’t answering, the beast was showing no signs of stopping. He started to scan the cavern he’d found himself in. There were little breaks in the walls, resembling cliffs. 

Keep trying, was what she’d finally said. 

He needed to escape. He knew actually escaping was futile, but something temporary. He needed room to think. But the feeling of utter uselessness was starting to creep up on him. If he couldn’t do this, he wasn’t good enough. To not be enough was to be completely useless when there was only allowed to be one disciple. He tried so hard to push through, each attack ramping up in intensity as he ran around, looking for an exit. 

Burns started to travel up his arms. He blocked out the pain entirely as he kept going. It wasn’t real. The demon slammed into the stone walls as it chased him around the circle. Tweek was looking as he silently prayed. If he went back through the passageway he came in, eventually there would be a dead end. He didn’t want to die like this. He just had to find one short enough. 

He thought tears of pure joy would slip out as he closed in on a cliff that looked like he could make it if he timed it right. He pushed forward, running as fast as he could. He jumped, arms out, just catching himself on his forearms. He quickly pulled himself up, despite the pure agony coursing through him from the sudden pressure over fresh burns. He didn’t stop. There was another tiny break just above and to the left that would let him get further away where the beast actually couldn’t reach him. He made it up feeling nothing but thankful as front paws leaned against where he just was. Tweek took a deep breath and squatted, trying to pull himself together and think of a plan. 

The demon smacked itself against the cavern walls but Tweek could barely focus on it. His head was spinning. He needed to escape. There was no escape. He couldn’t fight this thing. Useless. Useless. Useless. 

E̶͇̟̠͇̺ͫn͚̼͚̈́ͣ̔ḋu̮̟re.̙̫ͨ̒

He wasn’t sure if the scream of frustration or the blast of pure magic that escaped him were real. His legs felt like they quit completely as he practically tumbled against the wall, cells feeling like they were on fire. He couldn’t ignore the pain anymore. And there was so much of it. It was endless. A bottomless, all consuming void that had been nibbling at him for years. He was free falling. It was so clear. 

I’m dying. Right? That’s what this feeling is, isn’t it? Is this what my entire existence was leading up to? Is that okay? His body shook on every exhale. Maybe they chose the wrong one. Does it matter?  White started to take over his vision. But it wasn’t the frantic sparks and jagged rips through the air that he was used to. It was gentle. Cloudy. Someone else is here. 

His eyes frantically scanned around the realm. The demon was still rampaging, but his body felt completely powerless. His gaze landed on a boy about his age, face displaying nothing but boredom. 

What? 

Getͤ up̵̃͋̍̂. 

“What?” he murmured. He felt like he was going into shock as the boy went at the beast with a sword without a care in the world.

Ge͚̲t. U͚̐͆p. He w̬̾͛i͉l͇̕l ki̱ͫl̰̱͛l͗̚ yỏ̪u. Th̽͑ě͔re ca͐ͮ͟ǹ̆̽̿ onl̛͎y be o̝ń͘e̐͑ͪ. It h͆́͘͢a̬̠̝͙ͣs̨̱̦͈̣͎͋ͣ̈͟ to be y͋o̙ͅu̟̰ͥ, Tw͇͇e͈͟ek̘̣͡. H̍͞ě̷͉̹̣ͨ͋ ẘ̱́i̛͖͓̾͛̕͠l̛̦̱̋l d̘̉e̳̯̩͒s̷̩̦̘̓͆͢t̮͑ͧ͐ͤ̆͘r͓o͇ͫͅỳ̵̧̕ t͂͑his͂ w̗ͩo͓̦̮͟ř̥̹̗͑ͧld͈ if͒ h͗͐̉ě̱͎͟͠ t̂͡äͤ͢ke̡̺̭͇̐ͮ͢s̫̝ͤ͐ͨ͜ͅ y͐oṹ̩͕͆ͤr̛̬ p̛̎̀͝ͅl͓͔̅ȁ̶̘̘ͧ͌͡c̷e͙͑̋̃.

The simple command sent a surge of adrenaline through him. It didn’t matter that he could feel each and every square inch of skin he’d burned. It didn’t matter that his vision was doubled. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t happy. Suddenly, all that mattered was that he was going to be the one to live. He wasn’t going to die here. Not from the demon he was fighting. Not from his own grace. And sure as fuck not from some random kid he’d never seen before. He had to do his job.

 He pressed his palms into the jagged stone beneath him, trying to force his body up. Bile crept up his throat as agony shot through him. The boy was busy fighting the demon. Le̸ͥ̌t hī̝m̐̌ kill it̉̈́̈ first. He nodded, knowing that as weak as it made him feel, in this state, he couldn’t handle both of them.

He took slow deep breaths, trying to breathe through the pain as the boy went after the raging behemoth. It didn’t take him long. White smoke plumed outwards. Tweek squinted hard. The boy was using a physical weapon, not all that uncommon, but something to be cautious about. “What’s his power?” he whispered. 

U͆ncertȃͣi͖͌n. It döesn’t a̻͘p̎pear to be coͦm̲̑bat bas̵̜͛ed thoͪͯu​​gͥͩh. 

He nodded. It hurt to talk. He didn’t want to waste his time talking if he didn’t have to. Tweek watched as the boy sliced through the monster, black blood radiating outwards, white flurries of discord wildly swirling around before taking over the demon completely. He took a deep breath that was really more of a painful wheeze. 

The boy's eyes landed on him. He silently walked towards Tweek. Tweek blinked and he was on the same ledge Tweek was on, only serving to disorient him more. Teleportation? Shit. He was about ten feet away when Tweek took a deep breath before sending out a bolt of lightning in the boy’s direction. It would’ve killed him, had it connected. But it didn’t. Tweek inwardly cursed his current condition. Or the boys’ unknown grace. Both of them. 

“Dude, what the fuck?” Why isn’t he attacking? “I just saved you, dick!” 

Something about this answer actually aggravated Tweek. That didn’t make any sense. “I didn’t ask for you to save me!” he yelled in response like an actual child. 

“You could at least say thank you instead of trying to kill me.” His voice was calm. Why is he so calm? Why is he not fighting back? Whả̭͟t are̥͋ y̜ͯo̹̼͟u doing? Kill͑͛͟ him!

“There can only be one graced by the angels!” For some reason, the answer suddenly felt really stupid. Tweek’s head was spinning. This guy wasn’t like any of the other disciples he’d met. Everything hurt and everything was too bright and sapphire felt like it was digging into his singed skin and Leslie would not shut the fuck up. He couldn’t even understand what she was saying anymore, just that she was still yelling at him. 

He hated being yelled at.

“Dude, you’re gonna fucking kill yourself if you keep attacking me. There doesn’t need to be one of us.” 

Tweek shot out an arm, trying in vain to shoot the boy that turned to leave. It was a last ditch, incredibly desperate attempt to do something. Kill him? He was leaving. What else could he have been trying to do? The world was leaving. Or maybe it wasn’t. The light was overwhelming. The sound was overwhelming. It was all too much. Everything’s too loud. 

“Fucking hell, dude. I’m not sticking around to watch you die.” 

“Because I will long outlive you!” he shouted. This was well past needing a purifier. Tweek felt truly insane.  He blinked hard. No. I’m fine. He felt like he was going to pass out. His brain felt like it was running on a treadmill as thoughts wildly whipped past him. Do I always feel like this? 

“You’re delirious, man. Your powers are fucking you up.” 

Tweek shot out another volt blindly, not appreciating the criticism. Right. One. “Fuck you!” 

The boy didn’t even have to move to dodge it. “Dude, seriously.” He sighed, walking over. There was no fear in his eyes at all. There wasn’t anything except for mild concern. Tweek didn’t understand it. He’d never been looked at like this before. He was getting lighter. Everything was getting louder. Everything was getting brighter. The boy crouched down in front of Tweek. Tweek squinted hard, trying to focus on his face and getting absolutely nothing back. “God fucking damn it,” the boy muttered. “Your burns are bad.” There were little bits of white flurrying around them, making the entire scene that much more disorienting. Tweek’s hand was taken gently. He felt a little better, like he was coming back to his body just a bit. Then he blacked out completely. 

-

(2)146 DAYS, 12 HOURS, 39 MINUTES

When Tweek opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the realm anymore. Nor was he on the roof where the altar had called out to him. He was on a couch. He shot up, small aches shooting through him, but other than that, he was completely fine. There were no burns. Nothing at all. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the same boy sitting on a chair across the couch with a gun trained on him. “Why the fuck did you bring me here?!” he yelled. He was uninjured. He could kill the boy right there. But he didn’t want to kill him and for some reason, no one was telling him to kill him. He was confused. 

And of course, Tweek hated to be confused.

“You had a seizure. You would’ve died if I left you there.” 

“Then you should’ve let me! Or fucking killed me! That’s how it’s supposed to be!” 

The boy let out a quiet sigh. “I don’t want to kill you.”

Tweek was now completely lost. The silence between the two stretched as the gears started to turn in his head. The only problem was that none of the gears were connected properly. “What?” he murmured.

The boy looked at him, confusion matching Tweek’s own. “Why were you trying to kill me?”

“Because that’s what we’re supposed to do?” Tweek’s anger escaped him as he was completely gripped by confusion. He was helpless under the stormy gaze of the strange boy who, for some reason, saved his life instead of doing his job.

“Who told you that?” 

“The angels.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

Just like that, Tweek’s anger flooded back in. How does he not have powers but not know this?! It was infuriating. “The one in charge?! Are you stupid?? Y’know, the things that gave us our powers?!” 

There was a long pause between the two. Tweek started to feel less like a threat and more like a petulant child. This guy made him feel weird. “They told you we’re supposed to kill each other?” he asked after spending much too long in silence. 

Tweek was a lot of things. At the moment, loyal to his cause. A murderer. Powerful. Good. Confused to a point of feeling like he was about to cave in on himself. But he also had a working brain and he wasn’t completely stupid. “Did…” His eyes widened slightly. “Did they not tell you that?” 

“I’m not good. I don’t necessarily want to be good. But I don’t wanna kill anyone either. I wouldn’t be doing this if that were a requirement.” 

Tweek felt sick. This had to be a trick. “What?” he asked, voice wavering. 

The boy’s gun lowered. His jaw tensed up slightly as he seemed to freeze completely.

“You’re lying,” Tweek accused, ignoring the tightness in his throat. 

“I don’t know what you’ve been told,” he started hesitantly. “But my team and myself have been given no such orders.” 

Tweek shook his head as a hand ran through his hair. “You’re fucking lying,” he got out through gritted teeth. 

“Why would I lie?” 

“Leslie wouldn’t lie to me. Not about that. They-they-” he cut himself off, eyes widening slightly. “No. No. You have to be lying. Please tell me you’re lying,” he pleaded. 

“I-” The boy stopped, looking at Tweek for help. “What do you want me to say?” 

Tweek stood up, slowly crossing the room. He stopped right in front of the boy, towering above him as he remained seated. “I need you to tell me you’re lying so one of us can walk out of this alive and everything can go back to normal,” he said shakily. 

“I can’t do that,” the boy responded weakly. 

Tweek could feel tears starting to slip out. “Where’s my relic?” 

“Huh?” 

“I can’t hear her,” he responded, voice edging on desperation. “Where’s my relic?” 

“Hear who?” 

“My mod. If you’re not gonna tell me you’re a fucking liar, she will.” 

The boy stared at him, weak but unwavering. “If I give you your relic, you’re just gonna kill me,” he finally said. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. Tweek felt like he didn’t have a choice. He nodded slowly. “I’m not giving it back to you.” 

“What?”

“I have no idea what’s going on, but I feel like if I give you that thing back right now, both of us are gonna die,” he stated carefully. 

Tweek felt like his legs were actually going to give out. His hands tangled themselves into his hair, pulling tightly as he crouched down, trying so hard to curl in on himself. He could feel the tears pouring out at this point. He didn’t get it. Crying wasn’t something familiar to him. 

Tweek hated crying. 

He hated feeling weak.

“What the fuck?” the boy whispered, nasally voice uneven. Tweek slowly looked up, stomach contorting when he saw fear plastered across the boy's face.

 How many people had looked at him like that? 

“Fuck. Stay there. Seriously. Don’t fucking move,” he ordered. The boy disappeared and Tweek took a seat on the carpet. He felt like he couldn’t keep himself up anymore. The boy came back, dropping to his knees in front of Tweek. “I purified you when we got here,” he muttered. 

 The words made Tweek’s body feel like everything inside jolted. He pulled his hand away when the boy took it. “Let me fucking die,” he got out with a bitter laugh. 

The boy grabbed his hand without room for argument, pulling Tweek forward slightly. “Yeah, no.” 

Tweek tried to pull away, but the boy held him still. “Don’t waste that on me. Seriously. You’re—stop!” Tweek could see bits of corruption flying around them. He just wanted to let it take him. 

But despite his struggling, the boy pressed a purifier to his wrist, blessing him with more relief than he’d ever felt in his life. He was nearly blissed out for a moment as the second one graced him. “Do you feel better?” the boy whispered. 

Tweek felt his chest tighten. He blinked, more tears making their way known. Reality was hitting him too harshly, too quickly. “Why would you do that?” he asked, voice breaking towards the end of the tiny question. 

“Because you needed help,” he answered like it was so simple. Like he was good. 

Tweek liked to be good. 

He liked good things. 

This boy had to be good.

But still. 

“I d-don’t understand.” 

“What just happened to you?” 

A manic laugh escaped Tweek. He couldn’t even help it. This was insane. “I was corrupting,” he tried to explain. But it was so funny at this point. He was unable to keep his laughs inside anymore. It hurt so badly. It was agonizing to see goodness in all its glory. Because this boy was so good. He had to be. But he was nothing like Tweek. Bad people don’t throw themselves under the bus to help strangers. “And you saved me. And I tried to kill you and you saved me. And you’re-” More laughs cut him off. “And if you’re not lying, that means I’ve just been killing people for two and a half fucking years. For a reason I don’t have.” He barked out a laugh at this. How much is a lie? All of it? What was he fighting for? What was he suffering for? “Why the fuck did you do that?” 

“I wasn’t gonna let you die on my apartment floor,” he responded simply. 

“You brought me to your apartment after I tried to kill you?” he asked, completely taken aback. 

“Other option seemed like there would be a death toll.” 

Tweek blinked hard, trying to process the statement. Is there others? Would he have just killed me? Would it put Tweek in a position where he’d just kill him? No, I. Tweek is I. “Wow, I-” He cut himself off before glancing at his wrist. His head was spinning. He was having trouble figuring out where he ended and everything else started. It was terrifying. 

“How the fuck is that happening?” the boy asked.

Tweek took a deep breath, trying to accept it all. It sure felt like he was going to die. Maybe that’s what corruption really was. It had only been implied up until this point. But it made sense. “Seems like you just turned my world upside down and my head is trying to kill me,” he chirped, honestly hoping he was right. 

“How do we make it stop?” 

Tweek’s stomach twisted. He retracted his hands from the boy’s. He hadn’t realized the boy was holding onto him so gently still. As he stood up, he couldn’t help but smile. This was what it meant to be good. Tweek had to be a lie. There was no other explanation. Meaning he had to die. Something about that didn’t hurt as much as it should’ve. "We’re not doing anything. Thank you for showing me kindness before I bite it. I didn’t deserve that. Keep my relic. It might come in handy later. Just don’t talk to her, yeah?” He meant it. 

But the boy shot up, grabbing him by the wrist. “No.” 

Tweek laughed, looking up at him with surprise. “Thank you for giving me some clarity, but I'm a murderer," he said tightly. "I can’t find a reason for it.” He inhaled slowly. He needed to die. There was no going back from any of this. “You’re sitting here telling me you’ve made the same fucking contract and you don’t kill people. You have a team. I can’t-” His nose twitched slightly. “I shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

“I don’t care.” The boy who was so good, who had to be good, looked like he was saying something he had never been more certain of. Tweek’s entire body felt like it seized up. His smile fell as the boy stared at him with an intensity he just couldn’t understand. 

“Don’t say that.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Why are you doing this?” Tweek asked, suppressing a whole body shiver. 

“Because obviously something really shitty happened to you and my options are help you or let you go die somewhere. I’m not just gonna stand by and let that happen. That’s so-” He paused. “That’s not who I am.” 

Tweek tilted his head slightly. He could still feel the tears coming out. This was insane. But still, he couldn’t help but ask. “Who are you, then?” 

“I’m Craig.” 

Tweek’s eyes narrowed. He couldn’t understand this. “I don’t get you.” 

“This is the part where you tell me your name back,” Craig whispered. 

The simple, unserious command forced a laugh out of him. His thoughts escaped him too quickly. He didn’t care. Maybe it didn’t matter. It mattered too much, but maybe for five minutes, it didn’t have to. “Tweek. My name is Tweek.” 

-

(2)143 DAYS, 16 HOURS, 14 MINUTES

Tweek had been at Craig’s apartment for three days. And he was grateful for the boy holding him hostage. He really was. But he couldn’t stop crying. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he didn’t know how to survive with the information he had. This would come to an end and then what? 

He was curled in on himself, death grip on his stupid sea slug. A quiet knock made him jolt. He panicked for a moment, forgetting how to speak. “Um,” he finally got out hoarsely. “Come in.” 

Craig opened the door, immediately picking up on how tense he was. “I’m not gonna kill you, y’know,” he said softly. Tweek knew that, but he didn’t even really know how to exist around people. Almost all of his human interaction ended in bloodshed in more recent years. He didn’t get this. Still, he knew Craig wasn’t a danger. So he nodded. “Look, I know shit sucks right now, but I got you some stuff.” 

Tweek tilted his head curiously. Craig was weird. He thought Craig was incredibly weird. That was something he picked up on quickly. He didn’t understand how someone could just care like that. “What?” 

Craig floated inside, passing him a cup. “My favorite comfort drink. Um, it’s really stupid, all things considered, but,” he paused. Next came the purifiers. 

And of course, this bothered Tweek to no end. It made him so unbelievably happy and he couldn’t let himself get used to that. “I can take care of myself if you give me back my relic. You don’t need to keep-” 

“I know,” Craig said gently. “But you need to not take care of yourself for a bit.” Tweek froze up. He didn’t have something that came even close to describe how such a statement made him feel. He felt like he’d been shot through the heart, but he was so overwhelmingly happy. Relieved, maybe. “Shit, um.” 

Tweek didn’t even realize more tears started to come out until Craig started to fumble with his words. “Sorry.” He quickly wiped at his face as the two fell back into silence. 

Craig watched him try to pull himself together, obviously panicking. Tweek didn’t know what to do because he didn’t want Craig to panic. He just wanted to turn his brain off and disappear. “Um. Are you a physical touch person?” 

That fully threw Tweek off. What does that even mean? He narrowed his eyes on Craig. “What?” There were definitely more words meant to follow, but he was struggling to get them out. 

“I’m trying to figure out how to best comfort you and I don’t know how to do so besides asking you.” 

“Oh.” Tweek looked at his hands. He wasn’t really sure what Craig meant. Whenever he was really far gone, Leslie would just talk to him. But they didn’t really have much to talk about. Tweek had told him a bit about his life. Craig had told Tweek a bit about his. He was sure he’d been silent for way too long at this point. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he muttered.

“That’s okay.” It was weird to feel so much comfort in two words, but the way he said it felt like he really meant it. 

“Can you maybe-” Tweek paused. Is this really alright? Craig honestly scared the hell out of him. He couldn’t fathom how someone could be so good. He felt like the closer he was the more likely he was to taint the boy with whatever curses he’d been unknowingly carrying. But maybe for once, just one time, he could reach for something because he wanted to. “Do you think it would help?” 

“I just asked because it helps Clyde sometimes. I really want to help you, man.” Clyde’s the emotional one. He’s sweet. Loyal. Craig’s best friend. That’s what he said. 

“Can you try?” Tweek didn’t even realize he was holding a cup until it was taken from him. Craig set down next to him. He gently pulled Tweek against him and it was so overwhelming. Tweek couldn’t control his sobs and Craig just held onto him, running a hand through his hair. No one had ever treated Tweek like he was fragile before. And he really was so damn fragile, he just wasn’t allowed to be up until this point. He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed like that before Craig tried to pull away. It wasn’t urgent, more just like he wasn’t sure what to do. Tweek got that, but he needed more of this. Just a tiny bit more. “Not yet,” he whispered. 

Strong arms were back around him without hesitation. “I know you’re not, like, okay,” he murmured. “But are you okay?” 

“I don’t think anyone’s actually hugged me before.” 

Tweek wasn’t even sure if the words came out until Craig responded. “It’s okay. We can stay like this as long as you want.” 

It could’ve been minutes.

 It could’ve been hours. 

“Craig?”

“Mhm?”

“For what it’s worth,” he muttered against him. “I think you’re good.” 

“I think you’re good too, Tweek.” 

Tweek could really pinpoint ever loving anything.

It felt odd as long as he sat with it. 

Here was a chance to dream. 

He wanted to hold onto it. 

Fall a little deeper. 

Dream a little longer. 

It was terrifying. 

But he loved it.