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Craig doesn’t remember how he got to the airport, but he’s sitting in the waiting area with Kyle on one side of him and Kenny on the other. There’s a warm palm on his arm, and it’s Kyle, it’s his beloved Kyle, talking to him, and he’s so zoned out from anxiety and the tension that he doesn’t know what he’s saying. He can’t comprehend the words spilling from his boyfriend’s mouth.
Kenny is also touching him, but it’s a firm, assuring touch on his shoulder. His bright blue eyes are watching him with concern and he’s silent, save for a gentle murmur of kind words in between Kyle’s ramblings.
He’s at the airport waiting for Token.
He’s waiting for Token so the two of them fly out to Los Angeles.
They’re flying to LA to go see Clyde, someone he hasn’t spoken to in years.
He’s going to go see Clyde.
He wants to throw up.
It feels like days to him, but within a few hours, Token appears with a firm and authoritative aura.
“Craig Tucker,” his friend says with his voice so deep and clearly with a no-nonsense tone to it. “Let’s go. We have an idiot to save.”
Craig stands on shaky legs, and he finds himself being smothered half to death with fiery curls and a tight hug.
“You got this,” Kyle whispers into his ear and he finds himself choking, his throat is tight and he can’t speak. “I know you can do it.” Warm lips press against his temple and he has to close his eyes. “I love you.”
He wants to tell Kyle that he loves him too, but he can barely breathe as it is. He opens his mouth and he chokes, but Kyle looks at him knowingly and curls a hand behind his neck and teases the dark hair that lingers low. “You’ll be okay.”
He ends up getting tugged away by Token, and he glances back. There’s five individuals standing behind him, they’re wishing him well, but the one with the bright green eyes and fiery smile is the only one he sees.
He’s not ready for this.
He’s lost track of time when they land in Los Angeles, and Token ends up taking control and steers him towards the waiting vehicle.
He’s shoved into the back seat, luggage tossed in beside him, and Token plops into the front passenger seat. He casually slips cash to the driver, and rattles off an address.
Craig stares out the window at the buildings, watching as other planes come and go. He feels so small and so insignificant. He feels powerless, trapped in a situation where he has no idea what he’s getting into and has no way to prepare
His mind wanders with thoughts of the imminent reunion, and eventually he nods off, head pressed against the glass and he listens to the sound of the engines on the highway.
“Clyde, I—“
“I don’t ever want to see you again.”
They make it to a motel, and Token is the one who wakes him with a gentle shake.
“Hey,” he says, and Craig sits up warily and confused, unsure of where he is. “Grab your bag. We’re here.”
Craig does as he’s told. He slides out of the backseat as Token pays the driver, and he waits for Craig to regain proper use of his legs before he leads him inside the building.
It’s nothing fancy, and thankfully it’s not busy as Token walks up to the desk where the clerk is waiting patiently and the two start talking.
Craig tunes them out, busy staring at the television playing in the lobby. A well-dressed man on the screen discusses the weather for the next five days, a bright smile and blinding white teeth highlighting his facial features as he turns the spotlight onto his cohost, who brings up the top stories of the hour.
Something grabs his arm and he jumps, and Token raises an eyebrow at him. “You okay?”
Craig wills his racing heart to calm itself and he forces a lopsided smile on his lips. It turns out to be more of a grimace, judging by Token’s other eyebrow climbing to join its partner. “I’m okay. Just—tired.”
“That’s fair. Listen, I’m dropping my luggage off in our room. I’m going to go to the hospital—“
Craig feels himself stop breathing, and Token continues unaware of his internal panic.
“—I have to sign off on some paperwork anyway, and maybe I’ll get a chance to see him.”
His mouth is dry like the fabric of his shirt, and he has to lick his lips. “Do—do you want me to come with you?”
Instead of immediately answering, Token is quiet. His deep brown eyes gaze back at him, piercing him, and Craig squirms under the gaze.
“I mean,” Token starts slowly. “You can.”
“I can hear the ‘but’ in there.”
“I don’t want to be the one to say you shouldn’t, but I am going to say to just—be prepared, yeah? He might not even be allowed visitors.”
Craig exhales through his nose softly and looks away. “Should I just stay? Save face? Save a trip?”
Token’s hand presses on his shoulder and he smiles at him softly, assuring. “I’ll go. Call Kyle.”
“It’s late!”
Token’s already walking to the elevator, hand waving back. “Call Kyle.”
“Hey honey, you made it okay?”
Craig sighs tiredly into the receiver. “Yeah.”
He and Token had made it to their room. The small room, two full size beds separated by a four foot valley of tacky carpet and a gaudy nightstand, was quiet and unassuming. Token was in the room long enough to toss his bags onto the bed and turn around and leave immediately.
Craig claimed the other bed, sitting on the edge as he dialed Kyle.
“How is—how is everything?”
“It’s okay, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Token went to the hospital,” Craig explains. “It’s like—super late, but he still is the health proxy or some shit so he has to be there anyway, and I just—I’m useless right now.”
Kyle’s silent for all of a few seconds before his voice softly cracks through the speaker. “You’re not useless.”
“I am quite useless right now,” Craig tries to joke, but Kyle’s not having it.
“Craig Tucker, if you call yourself useless one more time—“
“Okay, okay,” He lays down and sighs softly. “Sorry.”
“When are you going to see him?”
Ah yes, the million dollar question. When was he going to go see his former best friend?
“I—I don’t know.”
“Craig—“
“I really don’t know what to say,” Craig blurts out in a panic. “I fucked up so much, I just—I don’t know where to start, what to say. What if he doesn’t even want to see me, you know? Or what if—“
“Say you’re sorry.”
Craig hesitates.
He had dreamed that same scenario thousands of times. Him stumbling across Clyde, friends divided by time and miscommunication and broken hearts. In each and every dream he blurts his confessions, his sins, and each and every time, Clyde turns away and leaves him.
His heart breaks every single time he opens his eyes after the dreams.
“I wish it was that easy,” Craig says quietly. “I don’t think it’ll be enough.”
“Well,” Kyle says hopefully. “It’s a start.”
“Clyde, please listen—“
“There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”
Craig doesn’t know what time it is when Token comes slinking back into the room. It’s late, the only light outside are from the security lights lining the property and from headlights of passing vehicles.
He turns on the bedside lamp and watches as Token sits warily on the edge of his bed, exhaustion painted on his face.
Craig has to force the words out. “How is he?”
“Burst appendix,” Token says, clipped. “They took him in immediately. Had to sign on some paperwork.”
Craig narrows his eyes at the furrowed brows that Token wears, and realizes that his friend is stressed out. “Is he—okay?”
Token turns to face him over his shoulder and Craig sees frustration on his face.
“His insurance lapsed,” is all he offers before he removes the bags from his bed and crawls under the covers without changing.
Craig turns the light off but doesn’t fall back to sleep immediately.
He’s woken by the shrill screech of Token’s cell phone.
He bolts upright just as a hand creeps out from under the covers and snatches the offending item from the nightstand, dragging it into the shadows where the overlord slumbered. “What.”
There’s some sunlight peeking in through the blinds, and Craig blinks blearily as a voice speaks over the phone. He debates going back to sleep, but waits for Token to get off the phone.
“I’ll be over at nine.”
The phone is slid out from under the blankets and drops to the floor. A tired sigh escapes the cocoon from the other man.
“Craig,” the beast says quietly. “What time is it?”
He has to squint at the alarm clock on their shared nightstand. “Seven?”
“Excellent,” the creature slurred. “Wake me in an hour.”
They somehow make it to the hospital by nine, even when Craig did sleep through his alarm.
Token stands prim and tall, speaking with the lady at the front desk and earning a nod from her. He turns towards Craig with a half-smile. “Ready?”
Yeah, no. He’s not ready.
He’ll never be ready.
He’ll never be able to do this.
Someone must show on his face because Token approaches him with hands held up placating and makes hushing noises. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to see him right away. We can wait.”
It takes Craig a moment to realize that he’s trembling and silently crying. He brings his arm up and brushes at his eyes with his sleeved appendages angrily. “Fuck.”
Token is watching him knowingly. “Do you want to wait out here? I’ll go in and see him, gauge the situation, you know? See what’s going on.”
Craig’s throat is tight, so he just nods. Token leads him towards a secluded corner next to a magazine rack and makes him sit down before he leaves.
Craig just sits and bounces a foot with high energy.
Clyde’s room is untouched by time. The shattered snow globe that he had thrown still lies on the floor, pieces of glass and ceramic littering around it.
Craig picks it up and turns it carefully in his hands, still hearing the echo of Clyde’s pain.
‘You knew that I liked Tweek!’
“I didn’t know,” Craig says to the empty room.
“He’s still out of it.”
Craig watches as Token picks up a sandwich from the display cooler, studying it. He nods approvingly before he places it on Craig’s tray.
“I can pick out my own lunch. I want an apple.”
“I know,” Token says before he also picks up an orange and puts it on the same tray. “You need more vitamin C.”
“Thanks doctor,” Craig sneers quietly before he realizes Token selected roast beef for him, the more tolerable of the choices offered. He keeps the orange as he follows his friend.
“He’s drugged up pretty good, they said maybe after lunch he’ll be more lucid. He was so doped up he was smiling at the television and it wasn’t even on,” Token pulls out his wallet and pays for both meals, and Craig could feel his irritation growing.
“I can pay for my own meals,” He snaps.
Token looks over at him cautiously. He doesn’t say anything at first, only after when he takes the change from the cashier. “I know.”
His friend picks a table closest to the windows and they sit down, eating in silence.
Token finishes first, and he uses it to his advantage. “I know you can pick your own lunch,” he starts softly. “I also know you can pay for your meals. You can do a lot of things, Craig, I get that. I’m helping you by doing these things because, at the end of the day, there’s one thing I can’t do for you.”
Craig squeezes the plastic wrap that had contained his sandwich and feels sick. “I know.”
Craig ends up staying in the cafeteria this time when Token leaves. He stares out the window; the bright sky is endless above the outline of skyscrapers.
It’s beautiful, but he hates it here.
His phone goes off, and it’s a text from Kenny.
‘He’s probably just as scared as you, you know.’
It’s a thought that had passed briefly during the night when he laid in bed, sleep eluding him. He’s considered things from Clyde’s side, and each and every time he just gets angrier and angrier at himself for fucking shit up in the first place.
He puts the phone down and sighs, resuming his sky watching.
His dreams always start the same:
Pained brown eyes looking back at him before the owner turns and starts walking.
Craig runs, oh how he runs each time, and the figure just keeps getting smaller and smaller as he walks further and further away.
Craig can never catch up. It’s like time slows down, he’s stuck in thick cement that holds him down, and he reaches out, yelling each and every time.
Clyde always walks away and never looks back.
It’s near dinner time when Token sends him a message to meet him at the lobby. He won’t admit it, but he lollygags getting there. He takes a moment to stare out the window once more, then observes the cafeteria one last time, then slowly pushes himself up and has to drag himself to the elevator.
He takes the stairs, very slowly.
Once he gets there, Token looks worn down and haggard, a reserved expression plastered on his face. Token’s gaze lights up when he sees him, but it fades almost instantly. “Ready?”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to the motel,” he says. “We’re ordering in.”
Neither of them say anything the drive back, and Token still doesn’t speak to him even when reach their room. He drops onto his bed and fumbles around on his phone for a moment before he tosses is carelessly onto the nightstand with a sigh. “Clyde is jobless.”
Craig folds his legs and sits up. He focuses his attention on his friend. “What? What happened?”
Token shrugs. “When he left New York, I lost track of him. He didn’t even put in notice at the job he did have, just stopped showing up. From what he will tell me, money is very tight.”
“Is he getting state aid?”
Token sighs. “No.”
“Then how—“
“I didn’t ask because a part of me didn’t want to know,” he admits. “Unless he’s feeding off his savings or his dad’s savings. I mean—he is gone now, so.”
Craig has so many questions. He wants to know so many things, but at the end of the day, there’s only one thing that matters. “Is he okay?”
“Oh he’s fine from the surgery—“
“No,” Craig pulls himself to the edge of the mattress and drops his feet to the floor. “Is Clyde okay?”
Token’s hesitation tells him everything he needs to know. “He’s not okay is he?”
His friend runs a hand over his dark hair, a sigh escaping his lips. “I think there’s more than what he’s telling me. But it’s also been years, so I don’t know half of what’s been happening, you know? Clyde’s—different. He’s quiet, he’s withdrawn, and he’s just a shadow of what he used to be.”
Craig deflates with each word, the hollowness in his chest growing and growing.
It’s his fault. It’s all his fault.
“But,” Token slaps a hand on his knee and looks up at him, a fire in his eyes. “He’s not going anywhere. Especially since he has no insurance, he can’t just up and go.”
“You—“
There’s a spark in Token’s eyes. “I’m paying his hospital bill so you better believe I’m going to use this to our advantage. You’re going to be seeing him tomorrow.”
Craig had his little breakdown in the bathroom, all the while that Token was banging a fist on the door. “CRAIG, CRAIG OPEN THE DOOR BUDDY. PLEASE—“
Craig was sitting in the tub, staring blankly at the tiled wall as the door jiggled violently.
“—CRAIG, PLEASE OPEN THE DOOR, I WAS KIDDING—“
“Some joke that was,” Craig felt himself sliding down and he ended up lying down completely, a leg dangling over the side and the other rose along the inside wall. “That was awful.”
“Please,” Token voice is a whisper, and then—“Do you want me to call Kyle?”
Craig narrows his eyes. “Don’t use my boyfriend against me.”
“I wasn’t—“
Instead, Craig dials Kyle himself and ignores the sounds of Token pleading in the other room as the dialing goes through the speaker.
Eventually—
“Hey honey.”
“Hey, so listen—“ Token quiets immediately on the other side of the door. “Token’s an asshole.”
The phone line is quiet for all of three seconds. “Okay, I bite. Why is Token an asshole?”
Craig smiles at Kyle’s confused tone, and he immediately imagines his nose scrunching up as it normally does when he’s puzzled. “He has threatened to throw me to the wolves.”
“I did NO such thing!”
Kyle can hear Token and he laughs. “Wait, you mean he’s making you talk about your feelings?”
“Kyle, love of my life—the fruit in my fruit cake—“
“I’m greatly offended I’m on the same tier as fruit cake.”
“The mere fact that Token thinks that I can even begin to talk about feelings astounds me,” Craig drawls and Kyle laughs once more before he reigns in the conversation. “But it’s yeah—it’s that.”
“So, feelings,” and he can see Kyle sit back in his chair, a leg crossing his knee and fingers steepled with the most serious of expressions. “How can I help you?”
“How do I start?”
“How do you start because it’s Clyde?” Kyle offers and damn, he hit it right on the head of the nail.
“Exactly.”
“Don’t run the conversation,” Kyle starts. “You’re there to be his support. Let the conversation flow. Just let it happen on its own course.”
“But—“
“Offer an apology, be sincere about it. If he accepts, let him speak. Don’t interrupt him. Let him get his own weight out, lord knows he’s been shouldering it long enough too.”
Craig sniffs once.
“You going to be okay?” Kyle’s voice is very soft and Craig wants to cry.
“No,” he whimpers. “I miss you. And I love you.”
“I love and miss you too, and I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back, I promise,” Kyle offers. “But you have to do this.”
He knows, and eventually the bathroom door slides open, a wary Token on the other side looking surprised with a credit card held aloft in his right hand.
“I love you, Kyle.”
“I love you too, Craig, and call me if you need anything,” Kyle closes their conversation with that.
Token is apprehensive when Craig pulls himself out of the tub. “You okay?”
“No,” Craig says, and he feels a strong hand on his back, rubbing gently. “But I have to.”
“You don’t have to be okay,” Token assures him. “You don’t have to be anything if you don’t want to, but this is something you wanted to fix, and I promised I’d made you do it. Are you having doubts?”
Craig purses his lips. “Always, but—keep on pushing on.”
Token smiles and there’s a knock on the door. “Just in time, foods here. You want to eat?”
Craig smiles back at him tiredly. “I’m starving.”
“Clyde-?”
“Goodbye, Craig.”
It’s a few minutes past nine the next day when Craig finds himself outside of Clyde’s hospital room. He hasn’t slept, his hands won’t stop sweating, and his heart keeps racing.
Good god, he’s going to have a heart attack.
Token offered to go in with him. For a while, Craig humored the idea but eventually turned it down, knowing that he needed to deal with this sooner or later.
The nurse covering the floor handed Craig a tray with a thing of juice, a breakfast sandwich, and a tub of applesauce on it. She smiled and offered that as his excuse to go in.
He nearly dropped the tray on the walk to the door, hands getting so gross and slippery; he just couldn’t keep a hold of the tray.
He takes a deep breath, it’s shaky and he’s trembling and he’s trying so hard not to freak out.
‘He’s probably just as scared as you, you know.’
He exhales, and then takes one more deep breath. Then another exhale and inhale for good measure.
Let him get his own weight out, lord knows he’s been shouldering it long enough too.
He exhales, and then knocks on the door before quickly grabbing the tray again.
A groggy voice beckons him in, and he turns the handle.
The first thing he notices is the television is too loud. Some morning talk show is in full swing, the audience captivated by the host, and Clyde is right there.
The room is bright, too bright for nine in the morning, and for fuck’s sake Clyde is right there.
Craig stands in the doorway shaking, and the spoon on the tray rattles angrily as he trembles.
Clyde’s still not paying attention, his gaze locked onto the noise box half awake. “You can put it on the table, thanks.”
Craig doesn’t move, he can’t move, because for heaven’s sake Clyde is right there and he has so many things he wants to say but his throat has locked up and he’s standing there like a moron who’s missed his cue and shit, he’s going to have another freak out—
Clyde sighs, finally breaking away from watching the show when it breaks to commercial. “Did you not hear me? I said you can…put…the…tray…” His eyes widen, the purple circles underneath are bold against his skin. He snaps out of his daze and is clearly awake now.
Craig tries to swallow, and his throat is so dry he can barely do it. Instead he quietly shuffles over and places the tray on the table as requested, and hovers by it awkwardly.
The brunet is silent, stunned into silence as he stares at Craig.
He clears his throat, dropping his hands to his sides and grabs onto the hem of his shirt. He fidgets with nervous energy. “Hello, Clyde.”
Clyde’s mouth opens and closes several times, he blinks rapidly and his chest rises and falls in his surprise. Eventually, he licks his lips and speaks. “Craig? What are you doing here?”
Craig squeezes his shirt tightly until his fingertips hurt and he keeps himself from running. “I—I was—Token told me you were in the hospital…I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Clyde nods once before he turns his head away. The day time show resumes, but it’s clear he’s lost interest when he picks up the remote control and shuts the tv off.
The silence is so fucking loud.
“Are you—“ He shocks himself and Clyde when he speaks again and he hesitates with his nervousness. “Are you all right? They treating you well?”
Clyde snorts. “I’m fine.” He leaves it at that, and Craig feels lost. Clyde always had things to say, so much to input on topics, and now—
He tries again. “Is there anything—“
“I’m sure Token has told you everything you need to know, Craig,” Clyde snaps at him, voice rough like sandpaper on a flesh wound and Craig can’t hold back the flinch, as if Clyde had physically hit him. “So why are you still here?”
Instincts tell him he needs to leave, that he’s unwanted here, and he obeys.
He backs up slowly, whole body shaking, and avoids looking at the man in the bed. “Sorry, I’ll just—” he mumbles, and turns to flee.
He’s being rejected. He knew it was a possibility, he knew it was something that was bound to happen, and it hurts. It hurts so fucking much. The rejection, the reality that he will never have his best friend in his life again, it’s so painful that it hurts to breath. He wants to cry but he clenches his jaw and grinds his teeth to force the pain elsewhere.
It’s over, it’s all over, and he never stood a chance. He should’ve known.
“Wait.”
He freezes, hand on the door handle.
Clyde adjusts on his bed with a wince and a sigh. “Bring me my food please.”
Craig is torn between running and obeying, and after a moment he chooses to obey. He silently retrieves the tray and nervously brings it over, placing it on the flat top that crosses the bed as a makeshift table for Clyde. Once he puts it in place, he backs up to leave again.
Clyde’s not having it, clearly. He’s going to utilize his temporary puppet. “I need fresh water.”
Hazel eyes swivel to the countertop where there’s a station set up by the nursing staff with an ice bucket, a water jug, and a stack of foam cups. He walks over and puts together a cup—a small scoop of ice, and pours the cold water in.
When he turns, Clyde’s gaze is piercing and he can feel himself crumble under the intensity.
Fuck, he’s missed him so much.
He drops the cup, water and ice and foam splashing and cracking across the floor, and he quickly covers his face in mortification. “Fuck, shit—“
He grabs a stack of napkins and drops to the floor and in his panic, he drops the napkins into the puddle, and they quickly dampen. He reaches up to grab more and knocks over the stack of cups and they scatter on the floor.
Clyde’s voice is loud. “Craig.”
Craig can’t look at him. He’s panicking, he’s freaking out, and the cups aren’t fucking listening as he tries to collect them but they’re no good now. They’re tainted from the floor, the floor is too dirty, and he’ll have to get a nurse to get together a new watering station and that’s too much work on their already burdened shoulders and—
“Craig.”
He reaches up to grab the towels and knocks over the jug, water spilling across the counter and pours onto the floor in gentle waterfalls, and a whimper escapes his throat as the water soaks into his pants, his knees are feeling ice cold from the moisture, and he’s fucked up again—
A hand presses on his shoulder and he jolts back, his head hitting the countertop edge with a loud crack and he bows down with a wince, covering his face.
There’s bare feet in his line of sight between his fingers and he realizes that Clyde is standing in front of him.
Clyde is right there.
Craig whimpers again, deep in his throat and he realizes he’s crying.
“Craig, look at me.”
Craig keeps his hands on his face and shakes his head. He can’t look at him. He hurts to look at. He’s afraid that he looks at Clyde again that he’ll stand a chance and he just can’t risk this when Clyde’s already decided the outcome of this whole meeting. Clyde has already decided he doesn’t want Craig back, and Craig just can’t deal with that.
“Craig, please,” Clyde’s voice breaks and Craig has no choice now, and he slowly raises his head and sees a haggard face, eyes bright and sad, staring back at him.
Clyde has a hand out towards him, hesitant and scared. “Are you okay?”
The last thread keeping him grounded breaks, and Craig lets out a sob. “Am I okay?” His voice is thick, watery, and he’s trying so hard not to scream. “Am I okay? I shouldn’t—I don’t—fuck, Clyde, are you okay?”
“Craig—“
“You vanished,” his voice rises in pitch and he realizes he is totally having a meltdown right now and he can’t stop. “Just fucking vanished and it was my fault, and there’s nothing I can do to fix the shit, the mess that I made and I—fuck—“
This is exactly what Token and Kyle and Kenny warned him about, and told him not to do, and he finds he can’t stop. He’s too far gone, but he has just a little bit of self-awareness left in him that he can at least try to leave with the last threads of sanity intact.
He grabs as many terry towels as he can and tries to soak up the mess. He’s panicking, he’s moving in jerky, terrified movements, and he must look like he’s out of his damn mind. “I’m so sorry, I’ll get you a new cup. I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
“Craig, it’s okay,” Clyde says softly but Craig’s not convinced.
“I’ll fix this, I’ll fix it, it’ll be okay,” Craig rambles, panicked. “I’ll fix everything, just please—don’t leave, don’t leave me again—I’ll fix this, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Suddenly there’s a hand grabbing his arms and yanking him away from his task, and he slams his eyes shut, prepared for the blow.
Instead of pain, two hands grab hold of his face and a small voice breaks through his haze.
“For fuck’s sake, Craig Tucker,” Clyde chokes out. “Listen to me and listen to me good. I’m a fuck up.”
“No,” he realizes that it’s him that squeaks out that single word, and he’s mortified when Clyde keeps going, acknowledging his protest.
“Yes, I am, and I have had no one to blame but myself. I have spent years thinking about what I did—“
“—Clyde don’t—“
“Craig, shut up,” Clyde snaps and he sinks to the floor with a wince. “I took my anger out on you guys when it wasn’t your fault to begin with. I hated him and I hated me, and I still hate him now and I just—hate myself a little less than I used to.”
Craig doesn’t know what to say. He’s confused at first, but Clyde keeps going.
“I should’ve reached out, I know it now after talking with Token,” He runs a hand through long (his hair is long! Craig’s internal voice provides) and looks away. “I was just a stupid, scared dumbass.”
I know now that you guys weren’t trying to hurt me on purpose. You guys didn’t know that I—that I—“ Clyde struggles before he spits the words out. “That I like guys, but I also like girls, and my dad found out that I liked guys and he—“
He said it was wrong, it was disgusting,” Clyde grits out. “And he—I tried to convince myself that being that way was wrong, and I just—“
“Your dad was an asshole,” Craig cuts in, and Clyde stares at him. “You know that now, right?”
“…yeah,” the brunet finally agrees, looking tired.
Clyde’s not leaving, so Craig tries some more. “You—you also know there’s nothing wrong with you for liking guys and girls, right?”
“…yeah...”
Craig inches forward. “You—you also know he can’t hurt you anymore, right?”
The brunet ducks his head. “Yeah.”
“You also know that I’m an asshole, right?”
A small smile threatens the corners of the brunet’s mouth. “Yeah, I know that too.”
Craig fidgets with his fingers before he adjusts so he’s directly across from Clyde. “You also know that I’ve missed you, right? That I’m very sorry for hurting you, for saying shit things to you, for taking my own problems out on you, right?”
Tears drip onto the floor. “Yeah, I do.”
“You know that—that I—I want you back in my life,” Craig’s voice breaks as Clyde’s shoulders start to shudder. “That I never wanted you to leave in the first place, that I need my best friend, and I’m so fucking sorry—“
Clyde openly sobs and wraps his arms around Craig, and he buries his face in Craig’s chest.
The first thing that Craig notices is that Clyde is thin, he’s skin and bones and his hair is longer and it feels greasy underneath his fingers, but it’s Clyde, and Clyde’s skin is under his fingertips and he can’t let him go because he’s afraid he’s going to disappear again. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Clyde disappears, but he does know he’ll go insane if anything happened to him.
He squeezes the frail body and minds his side. “I’ve missed you, you big oaf.”
There’s a messy and noisy sniffle from the other man. “I’m missed you too, you giant jackass.”
“I want to know everything,” Craig blurts out. “I want to know everything, Clyde. I’ve missed so much.”
His shirt is soaked from the snot and tears but he doesn’t care because Clyde is right here, Clyde is right here.
Clyde is right here.
They end up not talking, but Clyde does drag Craig into the hospital bed with him and they end up cuddling while watching reruns of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.
Clyde eventually drifts off, and Craig finds himself petting the nasty ass hair and he just can’t find it in himself to give a single shit.
It’s how Token finds them later, and he just stands beside the bed with a warm smile and eyes slowly turning glossy.
“You’re crying,” Craig says helpfully.
“Fuck you,” Token says. He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo before Craig realizes what’s happening.
“Don’t you dare—“
His phone starts buzzing with intensity seconds later.
There are over two hundred messages in the group chat when Clyde wakes up later on and Craig tries his best to explain while the brunet eats his chicken tenders in silence.
“So you’re friends with the guys now?”
“Yup.”
“And Kyle is your boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
Clyde chews on a chicken nugget. “Okay.”
“Cartman is also dating Butters, he broke up with Heidi a few months ago. Uh, Stan and Kenny are dating, but have been for a while I guess? Uh, I have a house—“
“You have a house?”
Craig pauses. “Yes.”
Brown eyes glow. “Do you have a dog?”
He hesitates. “No…”
His expression drops.
“But,” He scrolls through the chat and ignores the smart ass comments from the guys. “I’ve always wanted a dog so I might get one.”
Clyde’s silent as he plays with the napkin beside his plate. He eventually asks, “You’ll adopt?”
Craig looks at him knowingly. “Of course.”
Clyde smiles softly, sadly. “Good.”
That evening Clyde’s discharged, and more of his truths come out.
“I have no insurance,” he confesses while they’re in the lobby.
Token just gazes at him in understanding. “I know.”
Clyde bows his head in shame. “I have no job.”
Craig reaches out and brushes a hand along the back of his neck, along his shoulders. “It’s okay.”
Clyde sniffs. “I—I’m homeless.”
Craig freezes just as Token finishes signing the paperwork. “Not here,” Token says calmly, looking at the clerk as she eavesdrops on their conversation. “Somewhere more private.”
Somewhere more private ends up being back at the motel room where Craig sits on the mattress beside his friend.
“I have nothing,” Clyde says as Token brings out a bag of assorted candies. He offers one to Clyde, who accepts a piece silently. He stares at the shiny, colorful wrapped before he slowly unrolls it. “I moved out here to start over, to make myself something better, and lost it all. I couldn’t get a job, had no friends, and just—got in with the wrong crowd.”
Token raises an eyebrow just as Clyde shrieks. “No drugs! I promise!”
“Do you owe anyone money?” Token asks, seriousness on his face. “Anyone out here that will try to collect from you?”
Clyde shook his head. “No, I had some savings. I lived off that.” His expression turned dark. “It’s gone now.”
Craig squeezed his friend. “What do you want to do now?”
Clyde sighed, his body shuddering. “I don’t know. I don’t know where to go from here.”
“Come back with us.”
Craig and Clyde look up and Token’s seriousness leaves no doubts for his plans. “Come back with us. You have choices. Come back to New York with me. Hell, South Park. Or even Denver.”
Clyde looks torn. “But—I have no money. I have nothing.”
Token smiles. “Goof, we’re your friends. You think we’re honestly going to leave you out here now that we know what the hell is going on? You shit head, you think we’re going to leave you since we haven’t seen hide or hair of you for years? We’re not letting you out of our sight.”
Clyde’s eyes water again and he sniffs. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Token says. “Just—let us help you.”
Clyde stares at Token for a moment before turning to Craig, studying him as well. He eventually collapses into Craig’s side and holds onto him. “Okay.”
Token takes charge immediately by manhandling Clyde into the bathroom to get him cleaned up. While he’s doing that, Craig is given the task of getting him clean clothes and ordering food.
By the time Clyde’s out of the shower, there’s Chinese food sitting on the stand and three separate stomachs growl noisily. “I’m starving,” Token says. “And I call dibs on the crab rangoons.”
Craig shoots him a dirty look. “Don’t even think it. I’ll fight you.”
Token opens his mouth to give back a retort but Clyde steals the bag with said rangoons and breaks one in half, popping a piece into his mouth.
He smiles cheekily when Token cries out in dismay at the betrayal.
He waits until Token and Clyde both have passed out from exhaustion before he sneaks outside to make the call.
The phone rings once, and Kyle’s tired voice goes through. “How is everything?”
Craig smiles into the phone, even though he knows Kyle won’t see it. “He’s coming back with us.”
“That’s—that’s great!” He can hear Kyle make movements, and he’s unsure of what he’s doing but the sounds stop shortly after. “Is he staying in South Park or Denver or--?”
“He’s going back with Token, for a little while,” Craig explains, looking back at the entrance to the motel room where his friends lay totally oblivious to the world around them. “He wants to recoup. He’s—he’s had a rough time, and Token is very chill and easy to get along with, and Token is great with getting people on their feet again, so,” he shrugs to himself, wiping a hand down his mouth afterwards.
“Is it everything you expected?”
Craig laughs quietly. “I honestly expected him to reject me. I didn’t expect this, at all.”
“Why?”
Why? That’s the trillion dollar question.
Why would Clyde come back? He had no reason to. Craig said some shitty things to him and hurt him, even if it wasn’t intentional, and that’s just something that not everyone can get over. Especially Clyde, who wears his heart on his sleeve and easy to hurt with stupid words.
Clyde had no reason to come back.
“Because Clyde didn’t have to come back,” Craig finally admits. “I didn’t offer anything good to him.”
“Maybe Clyde missed you too,” Kyle says softly. “Maybe Clyde was tired of being without his best friend and wanted you back too.”
“Maybe,” Craig mumbles.
“When are you guys flying back?”
“Tomorrow,” Craig starts pacing. “Token’s got the tickets already, so we’re flying out late in the morning. Not sure what time we’ll be landing though.”
“I figured you guys wouldn’t be back for a bit longer than that, so I called Henrietta and let her know what was going on,” Kyle says and Craig blinks.
Fuck, work.
“Shit, is—“
“Boss man loves me and has granted you an additional vacation, sweetie,” Kyle says sickeningly sweet before the killing blow lands. “As long as I stop by once a week for lunch with you guys for the rest of the year.”
Craig grits his teeth. “That fucking nosy old man!”
Kyle laughs. “Kidding, but that’s funny knowing that’s how you’d react. But seriously, you got the week off. Just—come home safe, okay? We’ll be waiting for you guys.”
Craig smiles into the receiver, relaxing once more. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When they finally landed back in Denver, Kyle was already waiting. But he wasn’t alone.
Tweek stood beside him, hands clasped together and was nervously bouncing on his feet.
The moment they walked into the large seating area, Tweek ran towards him, stopping just short of plowing into Clyde.
Big blue eyes stared back at warm brown ones.
Craig held his breath as Tweek smiled at Clyde. “Welcome back.”
Clyde’s mouth contorted, then curled, then he clamped his eyes shut before the waterworks commenced and he closed the distance between himself and the blond.
Tweek wrapped his arms around the brunet and rocked him, cooing gently with soft words and sounds.
Craig felt something touch his arm and looked up to see bright green eyes staring back at him. “Welcome back.”
He wrapped his arms around the redhead. “I’m home.”
Unfortunately, Token and Clyde had a plane to catch back to New York.
The reunion was short and bittersweet, and before Token and Clyde left to board the plane, Tweek pulled Clyde aside and spoke with his softly. Whatever he said caused more tears, lots of sniffles, and even more hugs.
As the brunet departed, Tweek called out once more to him.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” Clyde turned back to him with a watery gaze, a tight smile on his face. “Whenever you’re ready, you know where to find me.”
Tweek’s smile was blinding, and it was obvious that it was hard for Clyde to leave, but he went on nevertheless, and soon he disappeared beyond the gate with Token tugging him along.
Craig placed a hand on the blond’s arm. “You okay?”
Tweek looked up at Craig and Kyle and grinned, eyes still glossy from crying. “I am. I know he needs this—he needs time, and I’ve waited this long, I can wait even more. When he’s ready, I’ll be ready too.”
He turned and left without another word, not even saying goodbye as the two watched him go.
Craig felt something squeeze his hand and looked back to see Kyle smiling back at him. “You okay?”
The dark haired man looked out the large windows, watching as the plane took off down the runway. “Yeah, I am now.”
“Good,” Kyle looped his arm through Craig’s and tugged him towards the exit, Craig’s luggage looped over his other shoulder. “You’ve got quite a crowd waiting for you back at home. Kenny wants details on everything.”
“Of course he does,” Craig muttered as they approached the parking lot, eyeing his car parked in the distance.
"I too want the details on everything," Kyle said as he pushed against him teasingly. "I mean, my boyfriend just flew across the country to reunite with his best friend. I deserve to know that everything."
Craig smiled and remained silent as he pushed back against the redhead.
“Oh, and my mother wants us over for dinner again,” Kyle said cheekily. “She’s trying out a new recipe and you’re her guinea pig.”
Craig laughed. “Did Ike go on strike?”
“Ike fled,” Kyle snickered. “He went back to college, the little shit. So mom demanded for us to stop back within the next few weeks for a family dinner.”
“Well,” Craig said as Kyle unlocked the car and loaded the bag into the trunk. “We can’t let her down, now can we?”
“Obviously not,” Kyle grinned. “And since we’ll be back in South Park, we’ll have to stop by your parent’s house and see how they are doing. Drop a few hints about Tricia’s crush on Karen—“
“—get my mom deeply invested,” Craig nodded, smirking. “Nice.”
Kyle opened the driver’s side door. “First thing’s first though. I’ve missed my boyfriend and I want some quality alone time with him,” his smirk turned coy. “And I know just the place to have some quality alone time.”
Craig opened the passenger side door. “Oh do you now?”
Green eyes twinkled. “Get in the car, Mr. Tucker, and I’ll show you.”
Craig laughed, then climbed in without argument.