Talk to me (i)

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notes:

i acc have no idea what im doing 💀

face reveal at the bottom?! 😨

tw

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Tweek's POV
Kenny calmed me down, cleaned my face and offered me support. He knew what was happening, I had told him while Craig was out one day. He told me he could help me explain if I wanted.

Kenny was so genuinely sweet and kind. I can understand why Butters likes him so much.

I asked him to call Craig, not ready to face him in person yet. His phone ran, once, twice, three times before going to voicemail. We called 4 times before I freaked out. Kenny helped me up, tugging me along to Craig's house. The front door was open, I heard talking and crying. Clyde's voice, and Craig's. I begged Kenny to call one more time, which he did. I headed the sound of his phone ringing, once, twice, three times, then dying down to silence. I pushed the door open slightly and took a hesitant step in. Clyde emerged from the bathroom, peered at the door and beckoned me in.

Kenny hesitated, and backed out the door to leave, pulling it shut behind him.

Clyde's voice dropped, barely audible.

"He keeps crying for you, he won't let me touch him, won't talk to me. Something happened."

I gulp and nod. I roll the sleeves of my jumper up in case. I prepare myself for blood, cuts, and hysteria. Even from here I can hear muffled sobbing and retching. Strangled pleads as he repeats my name over and over. I breathe deeply, following Clyde to the bathroom. I pause outside the door, letting Clyde break the news first.

"Craig. Tweek's here..."

The crying and begging stops, the silence now filled with hiccups and gasping. Clyde slowly pushes the door open again, covers his mouth and steps back. His eyes shine with tears. I peer round the door too.

Craig is sat by the bath in his boxers with an oversized shirt covering very little. His thighs are coated in blood, there's a little puddle next to him. His eyes are dead, they look as though he's numb. He clutches something in his hand, I can't make out what it is.

Without consciously deciding, I push past Clyde into the room. I peel his hand open and snatch whatever is in it away, I don't pay attention to what it is. I toss it to Clyde. I kneel next to him and cup his face. He looks awful, but when he sees me his eyes spark again. His face crumples as he realizes what I'm seeing and he tries to pull his knees to his chest, covering what he can. I push his knees back down and hold his hands firmly. He stares at me, sorrow filling his eyes. A tear slips down his cheek and drops onto his thigh. He winces.

I look back at Clyde, he's turned away respectfully, but he clings onto a first aid kit. He must feel my eyes on him, because he passes the kit to me wordlessly and then backs out the room. I find antiseptic wipes and clean the blood, squeezing Craig's hand because I know it stings. It takes a while, but all the blood shifts until I'm left with just the cuts. He peers at them, grimaces and turns away again. My phone buzzes with texts from Clyde.

Clyde: dude im calling a therapist
Clyde: should i go???
Clyde: is he ok??

Tweek: if you wanna go then you can but i think he's gonna need our support.
Tweek: thanks for calling someone
Tweek: the cuts aren't as bad as the blood makes it seem, he'll probs be fine

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