There was something wrong with Wendy.

Her ankle was still healing and it seemed as though she was growing stir-crazy. She tried to walk on her ankle at least three times a day, which didn't help the healing process. She was quiet, keeping to herself more and more with each day. Whenever Craig would come back from scavenging, she would be sitting at the dinner table and staring at the door dead-eyed with a cigarette between her lips.

Today, Craig came home particularly late. He'd had a run-in with some of those sick creatures on the surface, but he'd handled them easily. He went farther out than he usually did to check out the ruins of Whole Foods, and as luck would have it, he was able to gather as much water and non-perishable items as he could fit in his rucksack. He was pretty proud of himself, too—they'd been running low on food for quite a while, and he thought Wendy would appreciate it.

But, once again, he was late. And when he shut the metal door with a thud, there she was, fixated on him with a candle burning brightly beside her and a lit cigarette in her mouth. She took a long puff, then exhaled raggedly.

"You're late." There was a quiet sadness in her tone.

"Yeah, I went to Whole Foods and got us a bunch of shit." He dropped his bag by the door and approached the table.

"I was worried."

"Sorry about that." He pulled out a chair and sat at the corner beside her.

Wendy took another pull from her cigarette and let the smoke take up the space between them once more. She turned to her comrade in arms and silently offered it over, but he shook his head. "You know I quit."

"Yeah, I know."

They didn't speak again until Wendy snuffed out the cigarette butt on the table.

"Craig, can I ask you something personal?" She sounded a little more like herself, but her voice was noticeably shaky.

"Shoot."

"When did you, uh… realize you loved Tweek?" She hadn't uttered that name since before the outbreak. She clenched her fists in an attempt to self-soothe, but it didn't help—she was still nervous.

Craig almost jumped at the question. He didn't answer right away. In fact, he looked down and contemplated the query for quite some time. Once in a while she'd catch him smiling—she could tell he was thinking back on fond memories.

When he was ready, he looked back up at her. He wasn't exactly smiling, but she could tell the conversation topic made him happy. "I always knew."

Wendy wasn't expecting an answer like that. It shot right through her heart and made her want to cry. She smiled at him remorsefully as she asked herself how the world could be so cruel.

"That's beautiful," she expressed tearfully. She looked down at his hands on the table. They were calloused and he had dirt under his fingernails. She took a small gulp and a big risk as she drew nearer to him and held both hands in hers. His contented expression remained, so she gave them a little squeeze.

"I'm sorry I'm not him." She looked down, unable to face him. "I know you wish I was. I miss a lot of people too."

He shifted his hands and actively squeezed back. She was too terrified to look up. "Wendy… I don't wish that."

She jolted up in shock, red-cheeked and teary-eyed. "W-w-what?"

He met her gaze with the patience of the ocean waves. "I said, I don't wish that. I'm actually… glad you're here."

Time froze for her again. Except this time, she didn't want it to end.

At last, the floodgates were open and she began to weep. She didn't care if she looked like a total mess, she couldn't make herself look away from him any longer, or ever again.

"Craig… w-when you didn't come home today, I-I was so worried…" Her body trembled as her lifelong burden began to lighten.

He bit his lip and moved closer. It was taking all of his willpower not to break down with her. "I know, and I said I was sorry."

She laughed through the tears. "I-I know that… I just needed to tell you b-before you l-l-leave again…"

"Tell me what?" His thumbs rubbed against the backs of her hands in slow circles.

"I need to tell you, that I… I always knew."

Over the years, she had dreamt of what it would be like many times, but even in her wildest dreams, Wendy never could have imagined Craig Tucker wrapping his arms around her and kissing her so desperately like he did.

She was too in love to do anything except kiss back. She moaned weakly into his lips, basking in how soft they were. The more she thought about how perfect she felt at this moment, the harder she cried. She tried not to sob, but when he started gently sucking on her bottom lip and running his hands through her unkempt hair, it was hard not to.

He pulled back so that their lips were barely touching. Never had she seen him so transfixed on the storm that brewed inside her. If Wendy didn't know better, she would have almost thought that maybe he was…

"Wait," his voice was hushed. Peeling himself away from her, he carefully took off his blue chullo and pulled it over her head. "There. Now your ears won't look so cold anymore."

He paused. "…Plus, you don't look half bad."