It started with a game (Creek)(CraigxTweek)

Old Habits

A/N: !SELF HARM WARNING!
-Craigs POV-
It had been three days... three days since Tweek had been hurt. I had been there every day, for all of the visiting hours, just watching him. Watching for any sign ne would wake up. Any sign I would hear his voice again. He was still in a coma. The doctors were still unsure, but his chances were iffy on if he would make it.

And it's all my fault

Kenny had been staying with me, I think he was trying to help, but nothing could help. My boyfriend, the only thing that had been keeping me together for the past few months, hell, throughout our whole friendship... he could die... he could die and it was my fault..

And that's why I was in the bathroom, in the middle of the night, with a familiar friend. An evil monster of a friend that I'd sworn to never see again.

But I couldn't handle the mind-numbing feeling of guilt.

I had to feel something, anything else.

I'd taken apart a little pencil sharpener, only used a few times, and taken the metal out. Now, I was holding it, examining it. Sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the wall, staring at a shiny metal blade...
.
.
.
It hurt... it hurt more than I remembered. I'd gasped loudly the first time it met my skin. I'd only done a few before there was a knock at the door.

"Craig? You okay?"

Goddammit Kenny

"I-i'm fine." I said, my voice shaky and weak.

Was I crying? When did I start crying? Why was I crying?

"Craig, what's going on?" Kenny asked again.

I didn't reply, but only watched as the handle on the door turned and he peeked in. Immediatley his eyes met mine, then fell to my bloody thighs.

"Fuck.." He muttered, sliding through the door and closing it quietly.

"Just.. go away.." I whispered, looking at the floor.

"Craig, I thought this was.. this was done with.. you quit." He said, kneeling besides me and taking the razor out of my hand.

"I can't... I can't.." I mumbled, unsure what to say.

"What?" Kenny asked, grabbing a rag from the closet and running it with water.

"I can't handle this.. what if he dies? What if Tweek dies... It would be all my fault and.. I CAN'T" I cried out, covering my face with my hands.

Kenny was silent for a moment, gently dabbing at my wounds with the rag, before pulling out some bandaids from the cabinet, and placing them in the right places.

"Craig, I can't tell you who did this, I can't tell you how it'll turn out.. but it's not your fault." Kenny said, sitting back down with me.

"You just can't understand the guilty... the pain I'm in right now.." I whimpered, leaning my head on his shoulder.

"No, I don't.. but what if I could bring you someone who did?"

-time skip-

Kenny re entered the room, after going down to let someone in. Behind him..

"Butters?" I asked, my voice still shaky.

"Hiya Craig." Butters said, smiling sadly at me.

"What? Butters?" I asked, confused.

Kenny sat to my right, Butters on my left.

"What?" I asked, looking at Kenny.

"Do you remember my little... flaw?" Kenny asked.

I looked at him, confused, shaking my head,

"The whole death thing?" He said, trying to prod at my memories.

"Wait, didn't that stop?" I asked, looking between him and Butters.

"No... it's less frequent.. but probably three incidents since we've been together.." Butter interjected, smiling sadly at Kenny.

"Holy shit... three times?" I said, shocked.

"Yeah... and everytime.. I get so scared... so terrified that he won't come back..." Butters said, biting his lip nervously.

"But... this is different.... if Tweek dies.. he won't come back." I said shakily, trying to hold back more tears.

"That's true. But Tweek.. He's a fighter. He's strong. I betcha he's fighting right now, to get back to you. He's not gonna give up on himself, or you, anytime soon." Butters replied, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

He's right. Tweek wouldn't give up. He's strong, he'll fight with everything he has to stay alive. And I have to be here for him, stay strong for him..

"You're right.." I muttered, smiling weakly at them both. "Thank you."