Reawoken Flames 《{ CraigxTweek }》

Chapter 21: The Recovery

The ambulance ride was cramped. I wouldn't have minded as much if one person had avoided the ride along.

Tweek was leaned up against the wall, watching the paramedic who keeping an eye on me. They had found the needle on the ground when they had all arrived and despite me telling them it was never injected, they hooked me up to tubes anyways.

They checked Tweek out after I refused treatment until he was cleared. Nothing seemed to be broken even though Cartman kicked him in the face and ribs, but they promised they would do X-Rays once we got to the hospital. He had a large bruise on his forehead from the gun smacking him in the face, and his eye was slightly swollen and bloodshot. It didn't change the fact that when he looked at me, he couldn't stop either smiling or crying. He was a mess and I wasn't much better, but I couldn't be genuinely happy.

They weren't touching or even talking to each other, but his presence was enough to make my skin crawl. Stan had arrived at the warehouse just after Tweek shot Cartman dead. He was normal, checking on the both of us periodically. I couldn't see through his expression. When he found us, he was scared. When they loaded us into the Ambulance, he looked relieved. I expected that, once things calmed down, he would come out of this fake mask and show his true feelings. However, as we sat in the back of that ambulance, passing glances between us, Stan never took his eyes off of Tweek. He looked sad, the only emotion that seemed genuine this entire time. I didn't understand why he was feeling this way.

As the ambulance rolled to a stop at the hospital, the paramedic laid me down on the gurney. They pulled me out with Stan and Tweek in tow and rolled me off to a room. They did test after test, poking and prodding around my body to find anything wrong. After what felt like days of tests, they told me that all they found was a few broken ribs and a fracture in my shin and that my oncologist would be in to speak to me soon. They finally let Tweek and Stan in the room, who stayed glued to me the whole time. Tweek would tell me jokes until he started crying uncontrollably, then do his best to calm down. It was a vicious cycle. Stan would ask us if we needed anything from time to time, which we both declined every time.

After about an hour, Tweek left my side to use the restroom, leaving Stan and me to stay together awkwardly. I swallowed as Stan took a few steps towards me. I opened my mouth, but Stan shook his head in response. 

"I know what you are going to say, so don't." He almost whispered. "I can't ask you for anything right now, but I will say this."

He leaned over me. "I know this is the end of Tweek and me. He loves you too much."

At least he wasn't entirely oblivious. But something was still nipping at the back of my mind.

"Why did you come here? You were the one who tried to get me killed."

"I may despise you beyond a reasonable amount," Stan chuckled. "but I love Tweek. Make no mistake that of all the wrong things that I have done, my feelings for Tweek were always genuine. That's why I'm here."

I nodded, feeling a familiar sense of Deja Vu. I knew what he meant.

"What's to stop me from telling Tweek what you did?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing. Just remember this, though. If you tell Tweek, you shatter any happy thing he had when he was with me. He will never look at you as more than just a puppy his former lover wounded, and he will blame himself. If you love him, you'll leave the blame on Cartman and go on with your life. Take Tweek with you and make him happy."

I was shocked at what he was saying. I looked up at the bright ceiling lights. He was right. If I told Tweek, it would crush him and he would blame himself for being between the two of us. If the blame stayed on Cartman, the only guilt would be on me. I wouldn't wish that feeling on him.

"Okay." I sighed. "I won't tell him."

He only nodded and took a few steps back towards the chair. He sat down like a weight had shoved him down, and he muttered to himself for a while.

Tweek had made his way back in, Sadie following in a few minutes later.

"Hey, Doc." I sighed.

"You look like shit." She chuckled, closing the door behind her,

"Eh, what can I say? People love to beat me up."

Sadie rolled her eyes, but her face turned more serious. "I got a look at your MRI, to check the progression of your cancer."

"I have a feeling you have bad news."

She nodded and crossed her arms. "Not only has Cirrhosis developed in your liver, but your cancer has spread."

I was speechless.

Tweek took no time in asking questions. "Where has it spread to, Sadie?"

Sadie shook her head and looked at the floor. "I think it would be easier to tell you where your cancer hasn't spread."

Tweek covered his mouth. "Then what can we do? I-I mean, there has to be... be something!"

His voice had risen to a scream, and I wrapped my arms around him. I knew what she was saying was my death sentence.

"How long do I have, Sadie?" I whispered.

"Well, if the cirrhosis wasn't there, I'd say you have a long two years."

"Well, it's there. So, what do you say now?"

She didn't want to speak, but I had to know. She took a deep breath and looked at me.

"Six months to a year."

Tweek's sobbing turned uncontrollable. His thrashing hurt my ribs, but I didn't stop him.

"Thank you, Sadie," I whispered.

She nodded and turned around. "I'll give you three some time."

Tweek's screaming echoed around the room. If our neighbors didn't hear, it would shock the shit out of me.

I had a feeling all along it would come to this. I was prepared. Tweek had all of these hopes that I would survive, but it would never come to pass now. No growing old, no family, nothing. I was now a wounded animal with only so much time left until I either died or was put down. There was no way I would let Tweek leave Stan now. I may hate that fucker's guts, but he would never again try and hurt Tweek. I would do everything in my power to make sure Tweek was happy.