Craigs gang makes a group chat

It Was Just a Dream

Sunlight peeking shy and tinted gray through the thick navy folds of his curtains as he slowly blinked towards consciousness. He was unable to help the need of biting his own cheek as a way to prevent the upcoming static from rising up his throat, all whilst using every ounce of his willpower to whirl his head to the side.
        There was lump beneath the blankets beside him, and the only thing visible was the golden tufts of familiarity that emerged like a star.

What the fuck? What just happened?

"Tweek." Craig whispered, then when he earned nothing but a course of mumbling in reply, he shook the boy frantically.

"Ngh— what?" Tweek finally managed to grumble out, pulling the blankets over himself as a way to ward off the sudden cold.

"I just had the craziest dream last night."

Clearing his throat thickly against the dry lump that held him captive, trying to shove the entirety of it back down into the empty center of himself. He watched as Tweek began to smile, faint and small but surely still there for Craig to be able to tell something he said was apparently funny.

"What was it about?" Tweek asked, head popping out of the recesses of the blankets and propping himself up against Craig's chest. And he felt his heart flutter at the small gesture.

Craig was surprised to find himself smirking as he briefly imagined how disastrous his dream was, before complaining.

"Like.. Clyde made some sort of group chat, and he was shitting tar all over the place, and then you and I for some reason compared dick sizes." Craig explained, relishing in the color the spread across the golden boys cheeks at the last bit.

"Oh— yeah?" Tweek added.

"Yeah, and then we added Stan's entire gang, and then Cartman was trying to kill himself and Kenny just laughed at everything. And I guess apparently Jimmy was some sort of mastermind behind it all." Craig confessed, staring up into the popcorn ceiling above him and beginning to run his calloused hands through Tweek's hair.

Tweek's voice drifted up towards the still-dark room as he added in a sigh, a light feathery rasp against the stillness of it all.

"You just have a fever, honey. That's what you call a fever dream."

Really? But it all seemed so real..

Hearing the boy as if from underwater, he clenched his jaw and swallowed the uncertainty, letting the hollow space inside of him absorb the emotion until he was once again left with nothing.

"You should get back to sleep, you're still warm as an oven." Tweek added helpfully when the sluggish boy did not cooperate.

"So, Clyde doesn't shit out any tar or magma? Or radium?" He asked just to confirm his suspicions.

"What? That is so weird! No! Wouldn't that kill him? Oh my god!" Tweek gasped, eyes going wide in fright.

"Calm down, babe. I was just asking a question."

I guess maybe it really was just all a dream. I mean, does it really make any sense that we'd all be laughing at fart jokes?

Coming to terms that it might've certainly been what Tweek claims to be a fever dream, Craig allowed himself to sink back into the mattress, closing his eyes shut as he chose the comfort of oblivion. Gradually, the hand that had been tenderly tracing through Tweek's golden tufts ceased it's motion, lying dormant by his side as if frozen in time.

Surely, it was all just a dream; at least that's what Craig Tucker presumed. He didn't have a chance to see the most recent flicker of a notification on his phone before he slipped back into restfulness.

<Jimmy removed Craig from the group chat>