Buried (a Creek fic)

26. Trouble

The walk to Clyde's felt like an eternity, as Craig dragged his heavy footsteps up and down the sidewalks. The entire time he was trying to prepare himself for seeing the boy that had beaten up Tweek, but no amount of time could give him enough preparation. He wasn't even sure what he was preparing for. Would Clyde yell at him? Would Craig yell back? Would Clyde try to fight with him? Would Craig fight back?

Craig didn't understand it. If Clyde knew that Craig deliberately broke him and Bebe up to get Bebe with Wendy and Clyde with Token, why would he take his frustration out on Tweek? Tweek had nothing to do with this. If anyone deserved a beating, Craig figured, it was him.

The sun was starting to set in the distance, painting the sky a tangerine shade. As he passed by the Tweek Bros. shop, he could see the lights inside twinkling. He could make out coffee-sipping customers and Tweek's hard-working parents through the windows. He wanted to run into the shop and tell them everything that had happened to their son, but he knew that Tweek wouldn't want that. He also didn't dare look down the alleyway, deciding that it was best not to see the blood that was probably still splattering the brick walls.

Once Clyde's house came into view, Craig felt every part of his brain telling him to not go in there. It didn't look like Clyde's parents were home, considering neither of their cars were in the driveway. He wasn't sure if them being home would make things better or worse.

He trudged onto the front steps of the house. The curtains were drawn and he couldn't hear any noise coming from inside. He lifted his right arm up and it felt like a thirty-pound weight was attached to it. As he knocked on the front door, it immediately swung open as if Clyde was waiting for his arrival. And he was.

"Tucker," the boy spat out. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Clyde didn't look like... well, Clyde. His brown hair was tousled and the jeans and red sweater he was wearing were caked in dirt. His face was gaunt with a permanent sneer stretching onto his lips. His eyes appeared bloodshot, brown irises swirling with fury and met with bags under his eyes from what Craig assumed to be from lack of sleep. Besides the bags, there was another dark area around one of Clyde's eyes from where Kenny had punched him earlier that day. The sight almost made Craig happy.

"Clyde," was all Craig could manage to choke out.

"Come in," Clyde insisted, stiffly pushing the door open wider.

Craig hesitantly entered, his hands clinging onto the jacket's fabric after they were shoved into his pockets. The house was darkened, since the curtains were drawn. Two empty beer cans were toppled over on top of the coffee table. Craig assumed at first that they were from Mr. Donovan, until he realized that a freshly opened one sat inches away from the others and as he passed Clyde, he could vaguely smell the alcohol on his breath.

Craig firmly planted himself in the living room, too tense to sit down on one of the couches. His gaze did shift to the furniture though and he recalled when he had come over recently, upset over hurting Tweek. How ironic it was that Clyde was now the one to hurt him.

"So," Clyde drawled, kicking the door closed with his heel and letting the darkness encase them, "how was Token's last night?"

Craig crossed his arms rigidly over his chest. "What does that have to do with anything? You know why I'm here."

"Well, actually," he corrected, slowly striding towards the coffee table, "it's when the truth came out."

Craig raised an eyebrow questioningly, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You see, after Token and I planned on having a guys night to cheer you up - " Clyde rolled his eyes at that part, scoffing to himself. " - Bebe came up to me during school and asked if we could talk afterwards. And that's when she told me everything."