“I don’t know.”
Tweek sat in the closet, curled up as tightly as his tiny body would allow him to be in a desperate attempt to try and repress the shudders traveling through him. Every now and then, he would raise his hands out in front of his face to check to see how much they were shaking, only to put them away just as hurriedly. It’s not like he could see them well in the gloom of the closet, but the cracked open door gave him just enough light to make him think he saw them and that was enough. His heart was pumping his blood in steady torrents throughout his body, and he could feel every part of him vibrating. His mind was quick, flitting, nothing sticking in his head for longer than a millisecond but then something would get stuck in spiraling loops, like a psychotic broken record. The thoughts that stuck terrified him but he didn’t know what he could do to make them go away. He wanted to scream, but his throat was too tight.
“You don’t know?”
Tweek jerked his head to the side and let out a groan.
“I don’t know. What’s wrong. I don’t know what’s wrong. Or what happened.”
He heard shuffling from the person across from him, trying their best to get more comfortable in such a tight, confined space. Somebody had once said that Tweek was like a cat: everytime some sort of storm came his way, he’d bury himself into the smallest, tightest crevice and wait out the weather. Right now, the rain of muffled laughter outside formed puddles that crept under the closet door. He wondered what he would see if he looked at his reflection.
“Does anyone know I’m here?” Tweek asked.
“Feel like you can talk again?”
Tweek nodded, but it turned into a roll of his neck and a grimace.
“I asked Butters where you were and he pointed me here,” Craig explained as he squatted uncomfortably, “but I don’t think anyone cares that you’re here.”
“Maybe they’re happier I’m here,” Tweek muttered softly but Craig still caught it.
“I don’t think so,” Craig said, “I think they just don’t really know what to do.”
“I do this all the time though,” Tweek said.
Craig shrugged, “I don’t think that makes it any easier.”
“If they cared about me, they would help me,” Tweek said.
“I think that they’re staying away because they care about you,” Craig replied.
“That’s dumb,” Tweek said and hugged himself tighter as his face pulled into another grimace.
“They probably think if they tried to help, they’d make things worse,” Craig said gently as he twiddled with the belt of one of the coats hanging above them.
Tweek sniffled and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and he felt his chest tighten involuntarily again as he thought about everyone laughing and having fun outside.
“I wish they cared about me,” Tweek whispered.
Craig readjusted his body onto a pile of coats and said, “They do care about you though. I know you don’t feel like they do, but I can tell you they do.”
“There’s no proof,” Tweek spat and then choked on a sob.
“Well,” Craig said, “Kenny was the one who told me you were missing. Kyle was the one who suggested that I go and help you. He literally told me that he would help you if he could, but he didn’t know what to do. f*ck, Stan even offered to give you a beer, but we both know how you are with that stuff.”
“I don’t want to be my parents,” Tweek said.
“Exactly,” Craig said, “so you can blame me for not letting Stan give you a beer.”
“I just wish I could feel like they cared about me,” Tweek said.
“You need to find the proof for yourself,” Craig said, “but if you’ll look for it, I’m telling you it’s there.”
Tweek nodded and shuddered as he let out a sigh. He looked at the crack of light through the door, bright and jovial against the shameful shadows of where he sat.
“I wish I wasn’t so f*cked up,” he admitted.
“f*cked up? How are you f*cked up?”
Tweek didn’t know how to reply to that.
“Tweek,” Craig said firmly, “do you seriously think you’re f*cked up? Actually, hold on, lemme try again. What does ‘f*cked up’ mean in the world of Tweek Tweak?”
“f*cked up means f*cked up,” Tweek said, knowing full well that he was being a petulant brat, but he didn’t care.
“Honey, we both know I need more than that,” Craig sighed.
“It means…” Tweek felt at a loss for words, “that I’m not a good person.”
“You’re not a good person?” Craig asked softly, “What makes you think that?”
“Like, I’m just not a ‘good person’,” Tweek put up his hands briefly to make finger quotes before snapping them back under his armpits, “everybody has like, a thing, right? Something they’re good at. Jimmy’s good at crosswords, Butters’ is good at knitting, you’re f*cking amazing at math, just everyone has a thing, right? But I don’t. I’m not good at anything.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Craig said.
“But everyone else knows what they’re gonna do in life,” Tweek spat, “and I’m just sitting in a corner like a f*cked up freak. I still haven’t finished college, I still don’t have a real job, I still don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Tweek,” Craig said gently, “I don’t think anyone else knows what they’re doing either. Wendy doesn’t know if she likes Stan, Stan doesn’t know if he likes Kyle, Kyle doesn’t know if he likes Heidi, Heidi doesn’t know if she likes Cartman, and Cartman still thinks that painting swastikas on preschool murals is comedy genius. Nobody here has their life figured out.”
“But Kyle and Tolkien and Clyde and everyone have all finished school,” Tweek sniffled.
“I’m not finished school yet,” Craig countered.
“You’re doing aerospace engineering,” Tweek huffed, “you’re trying to get into NASA. It’s okay for you to still be in school. I’m… I’m different.”
“Tell that to my dad,” Craig chuckled, “he thinks I’m a deadbeat.”
“But you’re doing f*cking amazing in school!” Tweek retorted, “you’re gonna be building rockets to explore the universe!”
“Tweek, you know what he tells me? He tells me I need to ‘be like Tweek and get a real job in business’ all the time,” Craig said with his crooked smile, “so while you’re out here thinking everyone has it all sorted out, everyone else is thinking the exact same thing that you are. Nobody has a clue what they’re doing. So how does that make you a bad person?”
“Well, it’s not just that I’m not successful or anything, but like,” Tweek scratched his nose, “it’s that I’m not worth anything. I just suck at anything I try. I feel like I’m just a failure.”
“You’re not a failure,” Craig said, “I mean, don’t you do art? Everyone says you have amazing art.”
“If my art was that good, people would buy it,” Tweek choked down a sob.
“It’s not that your art isn’t good, it’s that you haven’t really marketed your work,” Craig tried to reason.
“But I’ve tried so hard!” Tweek cried.
Craig watched his poor boyfriend curl up into a somehow even tighter ball. He could see Tweek shaking and he could see that his muscles were tensing up so tightly that the veins on his neck were bulging. He’d need to remember to get him some aspirin afterwards.
“You tried for maybe three months,” Craig said, “and you were getting followers! But those big successful youtubers and stuff? You know, all those guys you look up to? They’ve been at it for years. They only got where they are after years of making content and failing and learning and trying again.”
“And they got lucky,” Tweek said darkly.
“Sure, they got lucky, but you can get lucky too if you keep trying,” Craig insisted, “I know it’s hard, but you just gotta keep trying.”
“But I do and then I always give up again,” Tweek let out a cracked sigh.
“Maybe it’s because you don’t have the right support,” Craig offered.
“There’s nothing that can help me anymore,” Tweek choked on a sob.
“I think you’re just saying that because you don’t know what you can do,” Craig said softly.
“But what else is there to do? I’ve tried so hard, but I always fail…”
Craig tilted his head from side to side and hummed, “I think there’s a little bit you can do. We could try setting up a thing where I make sure you make and post art on a regular basis.”
“But how would that make me any better?” Tweek asked.
“If you can make something to show me, you can make something for your art page,” Craig said.
“Could you actually do that for me?” Tweek asked, “you know, help me stay on track?”
“Sure can,” Craig said, “but we can talk about that later. I think you’ve got more on your mind. You don’t say you’re ‘not a good person’ and not have something to back it up.”
“Well… I think everyone thinks I’m annoying and boring,” Tweek sniffed.
“Why’s that?” Craig asked.
“Everyone seems uncomfortable when I talk to them.”
Craig shrugged, “I don’t think they think that at all. I think sometimes they don’t understand you.”
“Clyde told me I was ‘too intense’, and not that everybody could handle it,” Tweek muttered.
“Well…” Craig sighed, “yeah, he’s right. I’m not gonna bullsh*t you. You can be really intense sometimes, and it can make people uncomfortable.”
“So I drive them away,” Tweek said into his sleeves as he slumped his head down into his arms.
“Yes and no,” Craig said, “I think that not everybody is gonna get along. Sometimes people just clash. Other times, people just need a break for a bit. But that doesn’t mean they don’t like you. I mean, f*ck, if they really didn’t like you, they wouldn’t ‘take a break’, they’d just stop speaking to you period.”
“How do I stop being so ‘intense’?” Tweek asked.
“I don’t think it’s something you can really turn off,” Craig said, “it’s just kinda who you are. But people like you for who you are.”
“If they really liked me, they wouldn’t need to take breaks,” Tweek retorted.
“Not really,” Craig replied, “I mean, you like Clyde, right? But I know you need breaks from Clyde.”
“I guess so,” Tweek admitted.
“So like, don’t change who you are because some people find it a bit too much sometimes,” Craig said, “I sure as hell would be sad if you changed. I like you how you are.”
“Are you sure?” Tweek asked softly.
“I’m sure,” Craig reassured him.
Tweek was quiet for a moment, letting himself bask in the warmth of Craig’s kindness. He savored the moment, letting his heart feel just the littlest bit lighter.
Tweek shifted slightly and said, “Do you think I’m a bad person?”
Craig snorted and thumbed his cross necklace, “There’s no such thing as a ‘bad person’, Tweek. Look, my pastor always said pure good and pure evil cannot exist within mankind. It’s also not up to us as humans to take God’s place and judge who’s a good or bad person.”
“I always find it weird that you’re so into the sciences but also you still go to church every Sunday,” Tweek laughed when Craig scowled.
He shook his head and said, “Why should I have to choose between science and religion?”
“You don’t, you don’t,” Tweek said quickly, “I just think it’s… Interesting.”
“Interesting?”
“Interesting,” Tweek reiterated, “like, you don’t let anyone decide who you are, you know?”
“Why should I?” Craig scoffed, “I don’t care about what anyone thinks. All that matters is what I think about myself.”
“Well, I don’t like thinking about myself too much,” Tweek admitted.
“Why not?” Craig asked.
Tweek sighed, “I mean, whenever I look into a mirror, I just want to punch it. I look so f*cked up. And I mean, no offense, but I think anyone who likes me has a mental disorder.”
Craig blinked.
“Um, full offense taken?” he barked out a single laugh, “dude. You don’t get to say that I’m mentally ill because I love you.”
“But how can anyone like me?” Tweek asked.
Craig scooped Tweek into his lap and held him tightly, compressing down on Tweek’s front and sides as he pulled his back up to his chest to keep him still. He rested his chin on Tweek’s head and waited until the anxious man had relaxed into his chest. He brushed down his messy blond hair and waited for his lithe frame to stop trembling.
“Well, for one, I don’t like you. I love you. I’m fairly sure we covered that back in grade ten,” Craig drawled, “but I love you for lots of things. I love how kind you are, even when someone else is in the wrong. You f*cking helped a server clean up your drink when they spilt it all over you. I would’ve been asking for a refund, but you just asked if they were okay and helped them clean up.
“I love how much you care about everything. I never give a sh*t about anything, but you? You care about the whole world. You stop to pick worms off the pavement and put them on the grass after it rains. Nobody thinks about the worms, but you do. You think about everything, and I love it.”
Tweek opened his mouth to speak, but Craig quickly clapped a large hand over his mouth (or rather, lower half of his face).
“No, you don’t get to argue what I think about you, just like you can decide that you don’t care what I think. But you asked what I ‘like’, so I’m telling you.
“I love how creative you are. I still remember you working with Tricia on an art project, and then you guys made the best piece in class. But that’s not the only way you’re creative. It doesn’t matter what happens, you’re always able to think of a solution in one way or another. Sure, it’s not always smart, but you figure something out in the end.
“I know you’re terrified literally all the time, so I love that you trust me to speak about your anxiety and mental health, even if I don’t always know what to say. I am always amazed that despite everything that goes on in your head, and I know you never get a break, you always try. You don’t always try hard, you’re a lazy f*ck sometimes and I’m not going to sugarcoat that, but I know I’d be lying through my damn teeth if I said you don’t try.
“Another thing! I love how positive you are. Sure, sometimes it’s annoying when I know you’re not actually doing so good and trying to act like you are when you really don’t need to, and f*ck is it annoying when I know that yes, it is that bad, but here’s the thing. I’m happy that you’re too positive and not too negative. When you always try to find the silver lining, I feel a bit better about whatever situation I’m in. You always know to look on the bright side, and I need that in my life,” Craig said, a smile growing on his face as he spoke, “and I never want to lose that.”
“I…” Tweek reeled back, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Thank you?” Craig said sarcastically.
“It’s just a lot,” Tweek said.
“Was it too much?” Craig asked, his smile faltering.
“No, no,” Tweek shook his head, “I just… I think I needed to hear all that. I didn’t know that I needed it.”
“You’re not a good or bad person, because ‘good’ and ‘bad’ is kinda subjective sh*t,” Craig said, “but you’re Tweek Tweak, and you get to decide what kind of life you’re going to live. You can decide if you want to be the person you want to be. You know, the person you thought you’d be when you were a kid.”
“But how?” Tweek sighed, “everything always ends up wrong.”
“Maybe you just need to learn to ask for help a bit more often,” Craig said, “I know I said I love how you always try, but I’d be damned if you don’t sometimes put more on yourself than you need to. Like sh*t, dude. You don’t gotta do it all yourself. Everyone needs support in one way or another, you know. If you need to ask for help to be able to reach your goals, then that’s okay. Everyone does that.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?” Tweek asked.
“I don’t know who told you it wasn’t,” Craig said, “but they’re an asshole. We all need help, Tweek.”
“Even you?” Tweek asked.
This time Craig couldn’t stop himself from laughing.
“Tweek, you help me soooo much! Like, every time I feel down, you’re always there to listen to me. You can be f*cking suicidal and you’ll still find the energy to listen to me and help me through my sh*t. That’s not healthy, by the way. I’m just saying you’re always trying to help,” Craig shook his head, “and like, if it’s not mentally, you’re always giving me back rubs and massages. Ever since I started getting growing pains and sh*t, you’ve been helping me feel better about the stretch marks and the back aches. Oh, and you never complain whenever I ask you to reach under my bed, even though it’s gross.”
“You really need to clean that,” Tweek murmured.
“Maybe,” Craig admitted, “but my arms are too big to get between the bed and wall. You can and dude you have no idea how nice it is to not have to move a king size bed every time I drop my phone.”
“Get a smaller bed,” Tweek said.
“Don’t fit in it.”
“Sucks.”
Craig snorted, “Alright dwarf.”
“I’m not a dwarf,” Tweek huffed, “that’s a medical term for achondroplasia, and-”
“Dwarf,” Craig said, “you’re not even up to my shoulders. You’re at titty height.”
“I-I am?” Tweek asked, his face contorted into all forms of disgust and horror.
“Pretty much,” Craig said, “you’re a titty dwarf.”
“That’s disgusting,” Tweek snapped.
“You’re the one who grew like that,” Craig said, “so kind of an L, dude.”
“I’m literally-You’re the one who grew like a freak!” Tweek spluttered.
“I grew like a Tucker,” Craig said flatly.
“Whatever,” Tweek sulked.
They were quiet, but Craig could feel Tweek relax in his arms and lean back into his chest more.
“Feeling better?”
“Kinda.”
Craig smiled and pecked the side of his cheek, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” Tweek admitted and kissed Craig’s arm, the only place he could comfortably reach.
“So,” Craig said and looked up at the crack in the door, “think you’re ready to face the the others yet?”
“I’d kinda forgotten about them,” Tweek admitted.
“Do you wanna talk to Jimmy and those guys?” Craig asked.
“Honestly, yeah, I do,” Tweek said.
Craig nodded and adjusted to be able to get out of the closet, “Alright.”
He opened the door and they stepped out. The party was mostly out back by this point, but Butters and Kenny stopped their conversation when they saw them and hurried over.
“Hey, you feelin’ okay Tweek?” Butters asked nervously, “can I give ya a hug?”
“Sure,” Tweek let Butters pull him into a crushing hug and laughed.
“Me n’ Butters were kinda worried ‘bout ya,” Kenny said.
“I’m sorry,” Tweek said.
“Don’t be,” Butters said into his shoulder.
“If ya ever need help, just ask,” Kenny said.
“We’re here for ya,” Butters added.
“Thanks,” Tweek hesitated but hugged Butters back, “I really appreciate it.”
Craig pulled Tweek into his side when Butters finally let go and looked down over the other men.
“So,” he said, “did everyone go outside or something?”
“I think Stan was settin’ up beer pong in the basem*nt and Clyde was doin’… Uh… Clyde was doin’ Clyde things out back,” Kenny said.
“Clyde things?” Craig raised a thick eyebrow.
“Clyde things,” Kenny explained with classic sleazy smile, “you know, tellin’ everyone in town that he can drink you under the table n’ sh*t.”
“Figures,” Craig snorted and ran his fingers through his black bangs, a sign Tweek took as Craig being worried about his best friend, but not enough to go and check on him immediately.
“If you’re up for it Tweek, I think there’s also a bonfire goin’ on,” Butters chirped, “Red even brought her guitar and Bebe’s singin’ with him.”
“I swear if she plays f*cking ‘Wonderwall’...” Craig hissed when Tweek elbowed him in the side.
“Don’t be so mean to your cousin,” Tweek scolded.
“But do you wanna go?” Craig asked, rubbing his ribs.
“Yeah, honestly, a campfire would be nice,” Tweek said as he looked back at the couple before him.
“You guys comin’ with?” Craig pointed at the other two blondes.
“Probs,” Kenny shrugged, “don’t really wanna be holdin’ Stan’s hair back when he blows chunks.”
“And I’m goin’ where Kenny’s goin’,” Butters said when Craig pointed at him.
“Then let’s go. Do they have, like, wieners or anything?” Craig asked, “I’m getting pretty hungry. Haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“Tolkien got all that stuff in town earlier,” Kenny said, “f*cker even got tofu dogs for Heidi n’ sh*t.”
“So he’s got wieners, that’s all I need,” Craig said and then turned and walked off to the backdoor.
“Man’s dedicated his to his dogs,” Kenny said sagely as he watched him leave, “I can respect that.”
“Oh shut up,” Butters rolled his eyes, but the two followed after him, leaving Tweek alone to stand in front of the closet doors.
Tweek turned and looked at the closet for a brief moment. He shut the doors, turned around, and followed the others to the bonfire with a small smile on his face.
