Word count: 1352
Trigger warnings: violence, homophobic slur
PLEASE READ ENDING A/N
Tweek's POV
"Why don't we call the cops before Clyde gets worse?" Token suggested as we struggled up the stairs of the house with our suitcases.
"We c—"
"What did I do to deserve prison?" Clyde pouted.
"He wasn't talking about you; Tweek just got sexually assaulted, Neelix."
"Stop calling me Neelix, Trekkie."
"Shut up, Star Wars bitc—"
"Holy shit, Tweek," Kevin interrupted himself at the opening of the door to my room. Clyde pushed past Kevin who stood seemingly astonished at the door frame.
"Tweek, did you even move out?" Clyde called as the rest of us filed in. The room remained relatively empty from my remembrance.
A single twin bed sat on the far end of the room, beside a large bay window. The seat of the window lined with purple pillows and a hastily placed white throw-blanket. White linen curtains lined the outside edge of the window.
At the foot of the bed was a tiny shoe organizer showcasing various anxiety relievers and Knick knacks over the top.
Directly in front of that was my main form of entertainment of that period in my life. A large record player sat in the center of hundreds of organized vinyls stored away in drawers. My favourite album of the genre showcased in the very front of them. Music ranged from AJR to Queen to AC/DC lined the drawers.
The most noticeable thing in the room was the corkboard, overflowing with pictures of me with my family and most frustratingly Jack and me.
I pushed my suitcase through the door and sat in the plush white carpet in the middle of the room, motioning to the ground around me to get everyone to sit down.
"As I was saying," I started as the boys (and Neptune) sat in a circle with me, "We can't ask the cops to help us, they act like the ones you find in third world countries. They won't help," I explained rolling my eyes in remembrance.
"How do you know tha—"
"Hell yeah! Now we have an excuse to beat the shit out of him," Craig exclaimed monotonously. Smiles planted on the boys' faces as I frowned at the idea.
"No. Not yet, at least," the boys pouted as I continued, "I need to talk to Jack."
"I'm sorry? Tweek, I know I'm supposed to oppose fighting, as your mother, but people don't just 'talk' after getting sexually assaulted," Token raised his fingers, air quoting. He seems to have given up on the whole 'Stop calling me mum' act.
"Yeah, come on, Babe. I know you try to see the best in everyone and that's kind of your thing, but this is a lot worse than Pete. That was full contact sexual assault. He wouldn't let you go, and there was no consent."
"Can we maybe talk about this later? We just got here, and I don't want to ruin the entire vacation because of Jack."
"No, we need to talk about this bab—"
"Craig," I warned. He became quiet and looked down at the ground, twirling a piece of the carpet around his finger.
"I still don't get how he manages to do that," Token started, staring in Clyde's direction, "Every time we tried to get Craig to stop before Tweek he'd just keep on going and annoy the shit out of us."
"He's a changed boy," Clyde agreed.
"So how about rooms?" Kevin suggested.
"I say we take the master bedroom, right Kevin?"
YOU ARE READING
Accepting ✔️
Fanfiction"Come on, Tweek, it'll be fine! I do this all the time," Craig was currently in the process of convincing me to climb up on the roof with him. "I'm not ready to die yet, Craigory." He scowled at the use of the nickname before pulling himself up to t...
