Archive of Our Own ^beta

2013

Craig was finally going to be free.

From the very day he stepped foot into South Park High School he couldn’t wait for this. Really, it was more that he couldn’t wait to leave South Park. He hated his hometown. He hated the cold weather, the dry air, his parents’ friends, and most of the kids—now adults—he grew up with. He was tired of only ever seeing the same annoying, ugly faces his whole life.

“I’m so proud of you,” his mother said, wrapping her arms around him in a huge hug. His father patted him on the shoulder, saying something similar but of course more casual and masculine. Tricia possibly cared, too, but not as much as whomever she was texting away on her phone.

Craig looked down at the green hard rectangle thing he’d been given. It wasn’t even his actual high school diploma, he’d receive that in the mail in a few weeks. No, no this useless ceremony gave out the diploma covers that had the lazily embossed South Park High logo. He simply walked down the field next to Heidi Turner, handed the random school secretary the piece of paper with his name on it, shook hands with the sweaty principal, and received a glorified folder that didn’t actually make him more of a “graduate” than he was that morning.

He wished he could have skipped the pomp and circumstance, but he knew his parents would nag him and that his absence would have brought even more unnecessary attention to himself. He hated school events, but he attended almost all of them for that very reason.

He nearly dropped the diploma cover straight into the grass as he felt the weight of someone jump on his back, arms wrapping around his neck. This action did knock his cap off, falling from his head onto the ground before him.

“Congratulations, babe!” the piggybacker said, attempting to kiss his cheek from behind but mainly getting his jaw and ear.

“Right,” Craig said.

“Aww, you two are so cute!” his mother gushed. “I need to get a picture.”

“Quickly,” Craig said, trying his best to get a hold of the legs around him. “Before my back breaks.”

“You calling me fat?”

“No, I—”

“Say cheese!” his mother said, not waiting for them to pose as the shutter sound of her phone went off just about a million times. She loved obnoxious candids for some reason.

Well, probably out of necessity, given how much Craig hated posing for pictures. Or pictures of himself in general.

“Seriously, Sophie, can you please get off?” Craig said, gently letting go of her legs. “My spine is about to fucking snap.”

“Fine,” Sophie said, sliding off of his back.

Craig looked back at her. She was objectively beautiful—Sophie Gray was the girl all the guys at school wanted for a reason. Her makeup was done up at MAC, as she so thoroughly texted him about all that day, though mascara did run a bit from her crying. Craig picked her because she was genuinely nice. Plus, he could talk all day about Star Wars and other nerdy space shit with her. Before they dated, he really did consider her a decent enough friend.

Now, he couldn’t stand to look at her. He bent down and picked up his cap.

He knew it wasn’t fair to her to think that way. She never did anything wrong. 

But it was alright. He just had to get through that night. One more night, and it would all be over. He’d never have to see her again. He was going away to the University of Washington that fall, away from small, stuffy South Park to live a new life in Seattle. A better, freer life. 

A life where he’d never have to date a girl again.

“Hey, Craig! Sophie!” Clyde yelled out. 

He would miss Clyde, who was going to Ole Miss. His admission into it was something Craig still couldn’t fathom. He gave Clyde a quick bro hug that felt far more meaningful than any with his parents or Sophie.

Still, a dark part of him was glad Clyde was going to be far away. If anyone from this life went with him to Seattle, he wouldn’t change. Couldn’t change.

“Oh, Clyde, congratulations!” his mother said, going in for a group hug. “Okay, now stand next to Craig, I need pictures of the two of you!”

Craig was annoyed, but complied. Clyde did his typical annoying football boy poses, trying to actually have fun with it. The eternal killjoy, Craig, however, couldn’t force himself to do anything but stand stiff as a board.

“Hey, you okay dude?” Clyde asked, frowning. Craig was just as walled off about his feelings with Clyde as he was with everyone else, but being the guy he’d been friends with the longest, he was one of the best at reading his expressions.

“Sure,” he said.

“You know, it’s okay to show an emotion for once in your life,” Sophie teased, throwing her arm around his shoulder.

Craig furrowed his brows. “Trust me, I’m fine. I just…” He looked around the crowded field of graduates alongside their families and friends. He saw people he hated, like the Broflovskis and Marshes. He saw Tolkien and Nicole with both of their parents. He could even see Jimmy, despite the fact that he was crowded with a billion family members and friends.

“I…” Craig continued, still circling around in an awkward 360 fashion, treating the field like a 3D Where’s Waldo. “Have any of you seen Tweek?”

⁂⁂⁂

Project Graduation was another thing Craig really didn’t want to go to. After the graduation ceremony, he wanted nothing more than to go home to his bed and sleep for the next 48 or so hours. Plus, he had to give up his phone. Handing it over to his parents made him come close to having an internal panic attack, regardless of all the apps he hid, hidden photo albums he made, and even resetting his passcode. 

Back when the registration forms were handed out, he tried to get out of it when his friends brought it up by saying he didn’t have the allowance money, but then Tolkien had to go out of his way to pay for all of them.

Even though it was pennies for a rich kid like Tolkien, Craig respected him enough to not want to waste his money. 

It also helped that Tolkien also bought a ticket for Tweek.

There were two charter buses that were rented for the attending grads, randomly assigned. Of course it would work out that Craig and Sophie were on the same one. He put his arm around her shoulder, feeling like his arm was made of lead as he once again scanned the group of his fellow grads.

He saw the shock of yellow hair from behind. Boarding the other bus. He was only with Sophie, who leaned her head on his shoulder like a girlfriend should. And as the bus went up and down the mountainous Colorado streets, intentionally trying to trip them up as to where they were going, Craig closed his eyes. And with his eyes closed, even though her copper braid was long and easy to distinguish as hers, he could pretend she was the person he wanted her to be.

⁂⁂⁂

Their surprise Project Graduation location was a makeshift funfair at some wings restaurant. It had a tacky aesthetic that didn’t know if it wanted to be a 50s themed diner or a modern sports bar. He was pretty sure the class of 2012 had Denver Amusement Park, so he was pretty miffed about it. The restaurant wasn’t even in operation, just used as the venue for some reason, which especially sucked as he could really use some spicy wings.

It was mostly cheap carnival games. He always hated those, especially after losing fifty bucks his sophomore year in one of those scammy tin bottle games. His girlfriend at the time had strongarmed him into winning her a shitty Tweety Bird plushie worth about fifty cents. Pretty much the only thing that somewhat interested him was the wax hand molds they could make, but once he saw Eric Cartman get kicked out for trying to give the middle finger to it, all interest escaped his body.

“Why don’t you go wait in line and do it?” Craig said to Sophie. “I gotta use the restroom, anyway.”

“You should do it, too!” Sophie said, hazel eyes sparkling in the artificial light. “I can hold your place in line. It’s pretty long, so by the time you—”

“No thanks.”

She frowned and did that thing she did, twiddling her fingers in her braid whenever Craig upset her. It wasn’t like he ever wanted to upset her, but because Craig was Craig it was a frequent occurrence. 

Craig sighed. “Look, Annie and Lola are in line. Just go hang out and do it with them. It’ll be fun for you. It’s not fun for me, and I’d rather find some of the guys. Okay?”

She dropped her braid. “Okay,” she said, reaching up on her toes to kiss his cheek.

Craig didn’t need to use the restroom and he was technically lying in saying he wanted to find the guys plural. Tolkien, Clyde, and Jimmy were part of some stupid limbo line thing going on that he had absolutely zero interest in. He probably should have told her he needed fresh air, as that was closer to the truth.

Where the outside seating for the restaurant usually was, there was an overly crowded popcorn machine next to an overly loud boom box blasting some Ke$ha song. Kenny McCormick looked like he was out for blood throwing a ball at a dunk tank featuring a balding math teacher Craig never had. It was pretty dark even with the twinkling lights recognizable as being leftover from their Prom. 

He ignored all of it, of course, instead rounding the corner to the side of the building where the bushes and gravel were. It wasn’t technically leaving, it was restaurant property.

And he was perfectly correct in guessing it was where Tweek would be.

“Hey,” Craig said.

Tweek was sitting on the curb alone, staring at the black asphalt in front of him, though his expression made him seem a million miles away. He was trembling as usual, involuntary jerks a regular part of him. As soon as Craig called out to him, however, his head shot up.

“Hey,” Tweek said. He had a sad, strained smile on his face as he so often did.

“Mind if I sit next to you?” Craig asked.

“Of course,” Tweek said, gesturing his bony arms out. 

“Thanks.” Craig gave a strained smile back at him as he sat down on the curb. It was chilly, being the middle of the night on a spring Colorado night. Seattle wasn’t exactly warm, but at least the proximity to the ocean made it a little better. And less snow.

They sat in silence for a minute. Tweek looked back down on the ground, Craig up at the sky. There was light pollution from being close to Denver, but he could still pick out Orion and the Big Dipper. 

It was nice.

“So,” Tweek said. “High school is really over now.”

“Yep.” He tilted his head over and saw that Tweek’s blue eyes were staring at him.

He always loved Tweek’s eyes. The first time he saw them in kindergarten, he thought they were the most beautiful shade of dark blue he had ever seen. He had decided then and there that it was his favorite color, and always asked his mom to buy him dark blue clothing. That still held true twelve years later.

Yet at the same time, his eyes were not the same as they had been back then. The same brilliant blue, of course. But they had been so clear, so shiny back then. Now, the whites of his eyes were almost perpetually bloodshot. And while his eyes, like the rest of him, had always been twitchy, it had gotten much worse as the years went by.

“I bet you’re glad it’s over,” Tweek said, scratching at his wrist. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well.” Craig let out an overdramatic sigh. “I’m glad to be done with this shitty school and shitty town. So in that sense, yeah.”

“Of course. You—”

“But I’ll really miss you, Tweek.”

Tweek didn’t answer right away. He simply blinked his long, light colored eyelashes. It was hard to see in the limited light, but Craig could almost swear he was fighting back tears. Tweek pulled his legs into his chest and hugged them with his shaky hands.

“I’ll miss you, too,” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he looked off towards the road.

“You really should look into Community College, you know.”

Once again, Tweek didn’t answer right away. “Maybe.”

“Just think about it,” Craig said, turning his body towards him. He hovered his hand out, considering for a moment if he wanted to put a hand on Tweek’s shoulder. He didn’t. “For me. Okay?”

“Maybe,” he said again.

Craig groaned. “Tweek, please, you can’t just waste away in your parent’s coffee shop for the rest of your life. You hate it there.”

Tweek turned his head, resting his cheek on his kneecaps. “Who said I was?”

Craig’s face grew hot with irritation. “Then tell me, Tweek. What do you plan on doing with your life? I mean, besides…” He trailed off. 

Besides drugs. But Craig couldn’t say that. He couldn’t ever say that. Because saying it would make it too real. 

And arguably even worse, it would make Tweek angry.

“I don’t know,” Tweek said. He gripped at his hair. “I don’t…I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t like thinking about it. It’s too stressful. Don’t make me think about it.”

“You’re my best friend, Tweek,” Craig said, voice cracking at the end. His heart hurt for him. It always hurt for him. “I want you to be…I don’t know. Happy.”

Tweek sat up straight. “Do you?” He sounded accusative, eyes narrowing at him.

“You know I do.”

Tweek sighed, his breath slightly visible in the nippy air. “I’m sorry. I…Well, I’m glad you have things figured out, Craig. Your perfect dream school and perfect girlfriend.” 

“Sophie’s moving back to Scottsdale next week,” Craig said. Tweek’s eyes widened. “She’ll be in Arizona, me in Washington. It’s not like…y’know.”

They weren’t officially calling it quits, but there was no way in hell Craig was going to continue his shitty beard relationship. He’d message her a few times, be polite but distant, and hopefully by the time her freshman orientation started they’d have more or less ended things. She could go off and find a nice guy who actually deserved her.

“I’m sorry,” Tweek said, sounding genuinely sad for him. “It seemed like you really liked her.”

No he didn’t. As a person, yes, but he never had feelings for Sophie in that way. Craig never had feelings for any girl. Even after he realized he liked guys he tried again and again to convince himself that he was bisexual, but he long since realized no matter how many girls he dated, loving a girl that way was impossible for him.

And the only person he truly wanted to be with was Tweek.

“It’s fine,” was all Craig said.

“Is it?” Tweek practically seemed to lean into him.

He had no idea what Tweek’s orientation was. Craig’s heart, or maybe his selfish side, hoped he wasn’t straight. His mind told him he almost definitely was. Then again, Tweek never talked about liking anyone, let alone dating.

And Craig had never been brave enough to ask.

But it was all over now, wasn’t it? High school was over. Craig was moving away. This could very well be the last time they ever saw each other.

Lost in his own head, Craig hadn’t realized just how close their faces were to each other. So close he could feel the warmth of his face radiating onto his own. Tweek was still, abnormally still for him.

It would be so easy. Their mouths were only a few inches apart. All Craig had to do was lean forward just a little bit and he would be kissing him. Just like Craig had in his own head a trillion times. The way Tweek stared into his eyes, so intently, so longingly, part of Craig genuinely believed that that’s what Tweek wanted him to do.

Craig wanted to kiss him. He didn’t care that Tweek’s lips were dry and chapped, he wanted them against his own. He wanted Tweek close to him. To hold him. To tell him how much he loved him. How much he’d always loved him.

Yet despite what Craig wanted to believe, Tweek’s mind was such an enigma that he really didn’t know that that’s what he wanted. More likely than not, if Craig kissed him, he’d freak out. Partially because in general it’s wrong to kiss someone without asking, but also why the hell would his male friend do that to him? He’d probably be disgusted by Craig. Hate him forever.

But once again, this could very well be the end anyway. Maybe Tweek would hate him, but he’d never have to see him again anyway. 

And…what if Tweek did want him to? What if he felt the same way Craig did? What if he had the same fantasies Craig did? What if the reason he spoke the way he did was because he was jealous of Sophie?

There was only one way to find out. One way to not wonder forever about what might have been. An actual opportunity for once in his life to stop being a fucking coward who hid every single thing about himself and actually try to get what he really, truly wanted. It wouldn’t be that hard. It wasn’t like he was a stranger to kissing. He just…

He just couldn’t do it.

Craig pressed his arms against his upper legs and stood up. Tweek jumped slightly by the abruptness of it, but said nothing.

“Sophie was waiting to do that stupid hand wax thing, but she’s probably done now,” Craig said. “I should probably try to find her.”

“Right,” Tweek said, glancing up at him.

“She is still my girlfriend.”

“Uh-huh.” 

Craig looked back towards the corner of the restaurant. He could hear Eric Cartman yelling over the music about something because of course he was. He looked back down to Tweek, who was still staring at him. 

A pain filled Craig’s chest. He opened his mouth. Then shut it.

“Bye Tweek.”

“Goodbye, Craig.”

2025

It was almost 2 am, but Craig was still awake. He’d have to get up in a few hours, but he didn’t particularly care. He liked the stillness, the loneliness of the kitchen island. No one would be texting him, no middle of the night alerts on his phone. He’d do some meaningless busywork while easily pretending he was the only person in the world. 

His wife always scolded him for it. She’d beg him to come to bed. She’d go on about how he was always so tired during the day and he really needed to get more sleep. He’d always ignore her, which made her more irritated at him. But as annoying as that was, he wasn’t going to give that time of his up.

On that night he was going over their budget. They’d need to pay for hospital expenses, new furniture, new clothing, new…everything, it seemed. He refused to think about why he needed to do any of this, but it was easy enough to ignore context and simply get lost in the numbers. He loved getting lost in numbers. Numbers were so objective, logical, unfeeling. His undergrad and masters in engineering felt so simple to him. It was all too easy for him to succeed at it, to get on the dean’s list. At the time, he figured he was all but certain to get his dream job at NASA.

He didn’t, though. The job he landed was for Boeing. And now he was stuck in a job he hated for a company he hated, but at least provided a good paycheck and benefits. Alongside his wife’s salary, they did pretty well for themselves. Well enough to buy a middle class house in Everett, Washington that was completely indistinguishable from the copy-paste suburban houses back in South Park.

Between the laptop glow of spreadsheets and their Amazon Wishlist, and strain from his physical notes in red pen in the dim light, his eyes felt about as dry as the Sahara. He also needed to get up in just a few hours. He let out an audible sigh-yawn and stretched his shoulders. He’d go to bed in a few more minutes, just as soon as he finished figuring out the shit with hospital fees.

He picked up his phone to look at the exact time. It was 1:59. 

Below the clock, there was a notification about a missed call from his mother thirty minutes ago. He didn’t hear it with the Do Not Disturb turned on. 

At first Craig stared blankly at it. He knew it was very likely she called him by mistake. She did that several times a year at least. Usually during the day when at work or grocery shopping, but who knew.

But also Craig’s dad had had several serious health scares in the past couple years. His blood pressure had been out of whack since Craig was a teenager, but the older he got the worse it was. On top of that, he had to be on some super heavy duty medications and needed a complete change of diet due to some kidney issues. He had seemed mostly fine lately, but he was in his 70s. Who knew when his health might deteriorate?

Or…what about Tricia? She was living in a sketchy apartment in Brooklyn now. He knew she was a sensible girl and New York City was safe for its size, but still.

Craig’s heart pounded in his ears as he pressed call and lifted the phone up. The logical side of him knew there was likely nothing wrong. He was just tired and stressed about a million different things. His mom almost definitely called him by mistake.

“Hello? Craig?” his mother answered. He couldn’t tell if she sounded sad, sleepy, or both.

Craig shifted in the counter stool. “Hey, Mom. You called?”

“Sorry, hon. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m still up,” he said with an involuntary yawn.“I just had my phone on silent.” 

For a moment, she didn’t say anything.

Why, though? If something was wrong with his dad or Tricia, she’d almost certainly sound hysterical. If something was wrong with her, she was the type of person who would wait until morning. Unless she was in shock.

 He picked up the red pen with his free hand nervously tapped it against the counter. “Is…everything okay, mom? Dad’s not—”

“No!” she said all too quickly and forcefully. “He’s fine, we’re all fine.”

“Then…what’s up? Why’d you call me at 1 am?”

“It’s…” He heard her voice shake.

“Mom, what’s going on? Are you…Are you in trouble? Are you guys being robbed or something?” He was tapping the red pen against the marble counter so hard, it was as if he were trying to make it snap.

“No! Oh God, Craig, no! It’s…” She sighed. “Oh, Craig. I just…sorry, I should have waited until morning to call you.”

“It’s fine. I’m talking to you now. What’s wrong?”

“Do you remember your childhood friend Tweek?”

Craig’s face grew cold. It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown on it. Clenching the pen in his fist, he was no longer in that soulless, suburban kitchen.

He saw yellow hair blown by the wind as they ran in his backyard.

Laying on their backs floating in a rare warm summer day in the public pool until their asshole classmates intentionally jumped in near them with a giant splash like a goddamn tsunami.

The sound of laughter as they threw snowballs at each other in the park in winter. 

Those bright, shiny blue eyes watching the TV screen as they played on the Game Cube.

Those bloodshot, dilated, shaky eyes that looked like they were about to explode. How angry those eyes looked smacking Craig away as he tried to get near him.

Eyes he hadn’t seen in years but still thought about every single day.

“Of course I do,” Craig said, so softly he wasn’t sure if his mom could hear him.

“I got a call from his parents. They…” Her breaths were staggered. She definitely was crying. “They…They hadn’t seen him for a while. No one had.”

“Okay? And?”

“Well, they looked into it, and apparently he’d been staying at a motel. They…”

“They what, mom?”

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say. I know you haven’t spoken for so long, but I…I…”

He gripped the pen so tightly in his hand, the clip threatened to break skin. “Just tell me, Mom. Did they find him?”

“Well…yes.”

“And…is he okay?” 

He must be okay. Or maybe not okay but…would be. Could be. They found Tweek and were getting him help. Craig had hoped Tweek had long since gotten over his addiction, but…they were still young. Thirty’s not old. If that’s all that was wrong, he could get better. He only hoped he would go to rehab, not prison.

Either way, maybe Craig could visit him.

“No, Craig.”

“No?”

“I’m…I’m sorry, Craig. He’s gone.”

The pen slipped from his hand and clattered against the polished tiled floor.

2004

Although they had known each other all their lives, they only really became good friends in the fourth grade. 

They both had Mr. Garrison in third grade, but Tweek had somehow been roped into hanging out with the four most obnoxious boys in school so Craig stayed away. Not that Craig was lonely or anything, he had Clyde and Tolkien who had been his friends since forever, as well as the new transfer kid, Jimmy.

In Ms. Nelson’s fourth grade class Cartman’s obnoxious band and Tweek seemed to have split up. They didn’t seem to hate Tweek all of a sudden—those assholes always made it abundantly clear when someone got on their bad side. Tweek never really seemed to be on anyone’s bad side. Sure, he didn’t seem to have any particular best friend or even a permanent group. He was the type of kid that was friendly with everyone but friends to few. He stood out for being fidgety and paranoid, but there were way worse things to be at their school.

But one early fall day changed that.

Despite being just the start of fall, the weather was already in the forties up in South Park’s high elevation. Naturally, nine and ten year old kids barely ever seemed to notice the weather. Well, except Craig, even if only out of spite. He hated the cold and wished his family could pack up and move somewhere warm.

Jimmy was gone that day on account of a Special Ed field trip, while Clyde and Tolkien were spending all recess playing tetherball together. So it was easy for Craig to find a spot on the curb of the blacktop and get lost in his head. Lost thinking about somewhere warm. He’d been to Phoenix before, visiting his grandma and her surviving sisters that were snowbirds down there. He’d also been to Disneyland. Phoenix would probably get too hot for him, so he decided to imagine his family would move to California instead. Warm beaches, sand instead of snow, and pools you could swim in year round.

Whenever he zoned out and imagined it, it felt real. As real as the cold air in South Park did. As if he weren’t wearing winter gloves, but instead felt his fingers slide through warm, velvety soft sand. The sound of crows were replaced by seagulls.

“Are you okay?”

With a slight jump, Craig’s eyes went back into focus.

He hadn’t realized Tweek had been sitting not three feet to the left of him. Had he always been there? Or had Craig been so in his head that he didn’t notice him sitting down next to him?

“Sorry!” Tweek said, his bright blue eyes widening in fear. He shook his head. “I–I didn’t mean to startle you. I just…”

“You’re fine,” Craig said, his own expression blank as usual. “Just zoning out.”

“Oh.” Tweek pressed his lips together and settled back down on the curb. “Well…”

Craig couldn’t help but stare at him. He always had to fight the urge to stare at Tweek, but with Tweek actually talking to him he had a clear excuse to. He was always twitchy, but at that moment he sat very still, looking at Craig with those deep blue eyes. The same shade of blue Craig’s imagined ocean was.

He realized how weird it would be to say to another boy how nice his eyes were. So instead he said, “What do you think of Ms. Nelson?”

Tweak blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “Oh, well…she’s, uh, nice? Nicer than Mr. Garrison.”

Tweek nervously fiddled with the edges of his shirt sleeves. Unlike every other kid, Tweek almost never wore a jacket or coat. He only wore the same few plain button up shirts, which would be one thing if his family was poor like Kenny’s, but everyone knew his family’s coffee shop made good money. He didn’t even wear undershirts, as was clear from the buttons often coming undone and showing the pale, often overly dry skin beneath.

“Aren’t you cold?” Craig asked.

Tweek seemed to notice that one of his buttons was undone, and quickly redid it. “No, not really.”

Craig shrugged. “You’re stronger than me then.”

Tweek laughed.

Craig’s mouth opened slightly. Tweek always seemed so perpetually worried about everything that he wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard him laugh before. It was a surprisingly sweet sound. And it seemed to make Craig feel…warm.

Maybe that’s why Tweek never felt cold.

“I’m definitely not strong,” Tweek said with a smile. He tilted his head to the side. “Unless you count Red Racer Unlimited 2 on the Game Cube. I’m pretty good at that.”

Craig practically coughed. “You like Red Racer?!”

“Um…yeah. Well, the game,” Tweek said. His smile fell. “But I-I-I don’t have a Game Cube or anything. I was always playing it at Cartman’s house, because he does and he wanted me to help beat the levels and—and I was the only one who could beat Kyle on the versus mode. He liked me beating Kyle. But uh, I don’t really go over there anymore, so…”

“You can play it at my house,” Craig said all too quickly. “I have a Game Cube and all the games. I also have VHS and DVD tapes of practically every season of the show. You can come over and watch it with me.”

Tweek didn’t answer right away. He looked down, fiddling with one of his buttons. The button holes were too stretched out, whether it be from being worn out or Tweek nervously fiddling with them. No wonder they always came undone.

“I mean…unless you don’t want to,” Craig added. “I don’t wanna pressure you or whatever.”

“No, I want to!” Tweek looked back over to him. He jerked suddenly, accidentally undoing two buttons on his shirt and pulling it open.

Craig didn’t mean to stare, but couldn’t help it. His eyes drifted to Tweek’s prominent ribcage. Across it were dark purple bruises like ink blots. Craig involuntarily flinched.

Tweek’s face turned bright pink. His hands flung back to his shirt and quickly redid his buttons, hiding the bruises. “S-Sorry about that,” Tweek muttered under his breath.

“I…” Craig swallowed. “It’s fine. We’re both guys.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Tweek’s face was still red, but he tried to force a smile. “Anyway, I’d have to ask my parents. Can yours call mine? That might be better. They probably wouldn’t believe me, otherwise. I mean, if you want. You don’t have to invite me over or anything, I—”

“I do want to invite you over, Tweek. You didn’t think I was lying, did you?”

“Oh…right. No, no, of course not. Sorry.” Tweek seemed to sink back into himself.

Craig forced a smile. “Don’t say sorry. Let’s shake on it. From this year on, we’ll be friends who can talk about Red Racer together and hang out at each other’s houses. Okay?” He reached out his arm.

“...Okay.”

Perhaps it was bad of Craig for having ulterior motives in asking Tweek to shake hands specifically.

It was just…that bruise.

It wasn’t the first time he saw bruises on Tweek. 

Tweek’s sleeves were always so long and baggy, but he never rolled them up. Even when washing their hands for lunch, he’d simply let the fabric get wet. Craig swore once or twice that he saw bruises just beneath his wrists, but up until then he’d figured it was just the shadow of the fabric.

And so when Tweek reached out his hand, Craig made sure to look down his sleeve.

Craig grasped Tweek’s hand. His hand was, as it looked, dry and bony. Yet at the same time it felt…nice. Even though his hand was cold, it seemed to warm Craig up the same way his laughter did.

So much so, that Craig almost forgot. 

But he saw it. As Tweek shook his hand, Craig could see underneath his sleeve enough to see a line of purplish-yellowish bruises like a line against the skin of his forearm. More faded and dispersed than the scarier looking one on his torso, but undeniably there.

As they both let go, Craig’s throat grew tight.

“Are you okay?” Tweek asked. He tilted his head, messy yellow hair bouncing as he did. He wasn’t defensive. He seemed genuinely confused, concerned.

There were a lot of reasons why someone could have bruises on them. After all, Craig had a faded bruise on his shin from playing soccer with friends. As shaky as Tweek was, he probably ran into things a lot. Maybe he bumped into the corner of a table. He also helped out at his family’s coffee shop. There were probably a lot of ways to get injured doing that.

“Craig?” Tweek asked again.

Craig blinked.

He could always simply ask Tweek about them. Tweek would probably say something along the lines of what Craig himself came up with. He might laugh off his clumsiness. Then again, he might get embarrassed. He did always seem to try and hide them, after all.

“I…”

And if…if they were from…“something bad,” as teachers and parents liked to say…then what? Would Tweek admit it? If he wanted to admit it, why wouldn’t he tell Ms. Nelson or his parents? Or if it was his parents…

Well, if he pressed too hard, there was almost no way they’d let Tweek come over to his house. Tweek might not even want to anymore. He wasn’t even friends with him yet, not really.

This was dumb. It was normal for a ten year old boy to have cuts and bruises. It was part of being a kid. Tweek was fine, and the last thing Craig needed was to push away the one boy he had been dying to get to know for years and only now finally had the chance to.

“Nothing, sorry!” Craig said, forcing a smile. “Was just thinking about when the best time to ask my mom would be. But don’t worry, she’ll let you come over. Our moms get along, right? I’m sure she’ll really like you!”

Tweek smiled back. This time, more than any other time, it truly reached his eyes. “Sounds great!”

2025

Less than 48 hours later, Craig was back in South Park. Despite the fact that a lot of his former classmates were dispersed around the world, (or at least around Colorado,) a number of them made it back.

“Hey, Craig! How’s it been?” Clyde said, pulling him into that awkward half-body bro hug at the entrance of Benny’s. Craig didn’t know what was more surprising, the fact that the blatant Denny’s ripoff was still there, or that he was willingly seeing Clyde in person again.

Tolkien, Wendy, and Bebe already had a table, and Craig let Clyde’s hand push him forward.

“Hey guys!” Tolkien said, standing up. He had a smile on his face. But then, as if remembering why they were meeting up, let it fall.

“Hi,” Craig said, pulling out his chair. Benny’s had replaced the black wooden chairs they always used to have with red upholstered ones. He didn’t know what to think about that. He wasn’t looking forward to seeing how much the menu changed as well.

“I’m glad to see you guys,” Tolkien said, sitting back down. The ring on his left hand was golden and more intricate than Craig’s plain platinum wedding band.

Tolkien and Craig went to each other’s weddings. Jimmy was the only other high school friend who attended Craig’s. He was still unmarried, living a pretty good life as an up-and-coming comedian in LA. His standup had been featured on some of the big late night talk shows already. He was busy with life and wasn’t back in South Park yet, but claimed he’d come down for the actual funeral.

But besides the wedding, he didn’t really talk to Jimmy much. Friends on social media, Craig liked Jimmy’s cool announcements whenever he posted them, but they never really talked. Not out of anything personal. They just grew apart.

Tolkien was the only one he really talked to anymore. And even then, it was mainly just a few messages back and forth once every couple years or so. He probably wouldn’t have invited anyone from school to his wedding if not for Tolkien inviting Craig to his first back in 2018.

“It’s been so long,” Wendy said. “I wish it wasn’t under such terrible circumstances. God, I don’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve seen some of you.”

“Right?” Bebe said, grasping her childhood friend’s hand. “I miss school, our town.”

Craig knew from Facebook that Wendy Testaburger…well, now Wendy Marsh was doing pretty well for herself. Stan was in the military, apparently deployed to some not-so-dangerous country for whatever pointless reason the current government decided they needed to be there. He was part of the new stupid space force now. Typical that that asshole got to live Craig’s dream of having a space-related job.

Then again, NASA funding was being cut left and right, and space exploration was now mainly just stupid fucking pet projects for ultra rich tech assholes. Maybe it was for the better.

“I heard you’re working on a PhD?” Craig asked Wendy. He’d rather think about her than Stan fucking Marsh.

 “Yeah!” she said, face lighting up. “Just started it. And you’re working for…Boeing, right?”

“Um…yeah.” 

“Oof,” Bebe said, apparently unable to help herself.

“Hey don’t make him talk about it,” Clyde said. “You don’t want Craig to have a mysterious accident.” 

“Stop it, you guys,” Tolkien said. “We aren’t here to talk about shit like that. We’re friends reuniting over the loss of our other friend.”

Were they?

Bebe and Wendy weren’t exactly in their group or anything. Wendy and Tweek got along pretty well, and Bebe and Clyde dated for most of high school. But that ship had long since sailed. Bebe married some guy, had a kid, and divorced all within the past four or five years.

“Right, I’m sorry, Craig,” Bebe said. She looped one of her fingers in her curls, just as bouncy and perfect as ever. “Things are just…Well, the whole world is…”

“It’s fine,” Craig said. “How’ve you been?” he asked, even though he didn’t really care. “I’ve seen pictures of your daughter. She…Uh, she has your curls.” He didn’t know why he added that. Probably because he had nothing better to say. He didn’t want to talk about kids. What a stupid thing to bring up. He picked up the menu.

“She does.” Even with the ruined mood, Bebe couldn’t help but smile. “Isn’t she the cutest thing? I can’t believe she’s already in preschool.”

To his relief, although the prices were higher due to inflation, the menu was more or less the exact same as it had always been. The same all day breakfast that was probably still much better than their basically inedible hamburgers or pasta. He’d get the waffles.

“And Craig, speaking of,” Wendy said in a playfully sing-songy voice.

Fuck.

He hated where this was going.

Wendy leaned in towards him. “A little birdie told me you have a little one on the way.”

Craig’s eyes fuzzed over. He couldn’t read the small text of the menu anymore. He placed it down on the table.

“Yeah,” he somehow managed to say.

“Oh shit, congrats man!” Clyde hit him on the shoulder like he did back when they were friends. “How far along are you?”

“She's about four months. Eighteen weeks.”

“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” Bebe asked. Her eyes were wide, sparkling. “Or are you going to have a gender reveal party?”

“Uh…Soon but um, not yet.” Soon meant that day, quite possibly, but he didn’t want to mention that. “And uh…No. We wanna keep things simple, and she’s really against those things, anyway.” 

He picked up the menu again. Maybe he’d just get a side of scrambled eggs. He didn’t think he could hold down a waffle.

“Why?” Clyde asked.

Craig wasn’t going to answer that. Clyde would just be insufferable about it and he really couldn’t fucking deal with that right now.

Clyde was his friend for so goddamn long but now his mere presence made Craig sick. As a kid he was always chill, easy to get along with, and shared Craig’s deadpan humor. But now he spent most of his time online bitching about immigrants, LGBT people, and those “libtards” he apparently hated so much. For a while, Craig broke his passive lurking streak and actually commented, calling him a moron. Clyde would just laugh it off, saying he was shocked that Craig of all people would be “so triggered”. But Craig did try. He sent links of information, anything he could, but Clyde didn’t seem to care.

Once he posted memes about running protesters over in 2020, Craig knew he never wanted to be friends with him again. When his seemingly perpetual engagement turned to an actual wedding a year later, he didn’t think twice about not inviting him.

Still…how did he turn out that way? He’d spend weeks in Craig’s house over the summer, especially after his mom died. He knew Craig’s mom was born in Peru. And now? Craig didn’t know what was worse, the insane conspiracies and false information Clyde posted, or the fact that he thought the ruination of people’s lives was funny. God, he expected that shit from Cartman, but not the guy he thought of as a brother.

That was probably Craig’s fault too, though, now wasn’t it? There were probably a billion signs throughout the years that Craig chose to ignore. Just like he ignored everything until it was way the fuck too late. From the very beginning, from the first real interaction he had with Tweek, he always refused to pay attention to warning signs or act when it mattered.

Of course, Craig wasn’t unrealistic. He knew it was silly to expect a nine year old boy to solve suspected child abuse. What could he have done? Probably very little, but that wasn’t the point. It was that over the years, his billions of opportunities to speak up, to do something…

He didn’t. 

And now Tweek was…He was…

Craig’s grip crinkled the laminated menu.

“Where is she, anyway?” Clyde asked, already seeming to forget his previous question. “You didn’t abandon your pregnant wife, did you?”

“No!” Craig said. “She’s saving her vacation days. She’s fine. It’s not like she’s unable to take care of herself, especially this fucking early. Jesus. I’m not…I’m not that fucking evil.”

“Your wife, she works for Greenpeace, right?” Wendy asked, politely shifting the conversation. She had that polite, sympathetic smile that made Craig feel even worse.

“Yeah.”

Clyde let out a huff. It sounded just like Cartman’s used to. God, when did Clyde turn into Cartman?

“I mean I’ve never met her, but from what I’ve seen of her she seems like a really beautiful person,” she said, ignoring Clyde completely. She reached across the table and put a hand on his arm. “Inside and out.”

Craig stared at her manicured hand.

“She is,” he finally said. “I don’t deserve her.” He really meant that. She did deserve better. A real, genuine husband who could truly love her like she was meant to be. And yet Craig took that from her for his own selfish, awful reasons.

“Did Tweek ever meet her?” Tolkien asked. “I mean…I know he wasn’t at the wedding, but...”

“No.” He took his arm back from Wendy.

“I see. But you kept in contact with him, right?”

“I…no.” His throat felt tight, like a walnut was stuck in it.

“Really? That’s kind of surprising,” Tolkien said. 

“Yeah, we…I haven’t actually spoken to him in about…Oh, ten years.”

2015

Craig did allow himself to act out on his feelings for a few years in college. He never had a real boyfriend or anything, nor did he join his university's quirky gay club called "LGBTea Time". Well, he thought about it, but decided it wouldn't be his style. Or maybe he just didn't want it to be his style. He wasn't sure.

But even so, it was 2015. Obama was president, same-sex marriage had been legalized across the country, and it really seemed like the world was headed towards the right direction. He even went to Seattle Pride that year, though he freaked out and hid his face whenever he saw any sign of cameras and ended up leaving pretty early. And while he did download Grindr, he was too paranoid that someone would leak his information, so he never really used it.

His biggest thing was going to gay bars on Friday or Saturday nights. He liked how it was dimly lit with loud music that made it easy to lose oneself. Like he was seen, but not seen. Seeing other men together so openly for the first time must have been how Tricia felt during their Disney trip when they were little. The feeling of another man coming up to him, dancing with him, pressing himself against him, making out with him against the wall of the dancefloor. Even if he didn't know him or particularly care for the random guy, it felt so right. Any thought that maybe he really did like all those girls he was with in high school but was too stuck in his own head evaporated immediately.

He loved the feeling of stubble against his face, their firmer arms, flatter bodies, the feelings that bubbled up inside him. Why did he ever waste his or anyone else's time trying to do this with a girl? He was gay. He was so undeniably hardwired to be gay and accepting that and living that wasn't even something he could put into words.

Enough of that stupid pretending to be something he wasn't. The world was getting the fuck over itself, and soon he could come out to the world with a boyfriend andno one would think anything of it. His natural inclination was to still picture that boyfriend as Tweek, but he'd force himself to replace his face with Generic Random Guy. Which would be enough.

Though, naturally, the feeling of optimism was heightened by being shitfaced drunk. His tongue was down some guy's throat while Uptown Funk was blasting deafeningly hard, so logical thought wasn't exactly there. But at that moment, logic could go fuck itself.

The guy pulled away. Craig didn't know his name or…well anything about him. He might have mentioned going to some other university somewhere in Washington? He was tall like Craig and smelled like apples, but it was too dark and Craig was too dizzy from three shots to really get a look on his face.

"Gotta go piss," the guy said.

Craig just stood there awkwardly, and leaned against the wall of the bar. He had a mostly undrunk rum and coke that he left on a ledge to the side and picked it up. He didn't know if the guy would actually come back, but it didn't really matter. He could find some other guy. But in the meantime, he found himself staring up at the glittery holographic streamers that sparkled all colors of the rainbow as the lights hit them.

It felt so different than anything he had ever felt in South Park. Sure, gay people existed there—his third grade teacher was gay. But still. He wished high school could have been like this. That instead of being stuck in their shitty high school gym with some girl he didn't like, he could have been with…been with…

He finished off his rum in coke in one long gulp and stacked it on top of someone else's empty glass. Still swallowing, he fished his phone out of his pocket, elbowing some guy in the process. His phone was at 30% but due to Apple's intentional self-destruct mode after a couple years, it was functionally more like 15%. But he didn't care.

Fuck all these random hot guys. Even then, two years after he last spoke to him, he still only wanted to really be with one person.

He went to his messenger app and scrolled down.

He knew it was possible Tweek blocked his number. Or maybe had a new number. Or maybe he didn't, but still didn't want to talk to Craig on account of him totally ghosting Tweek. Or even if he did want to talk to Craig, the most likely situation would be that Tweek was asleep. It was past midnight, after all.

But God, he missed him. Why wasn't Tweek there in the bar with him? He could barely think straight, he wanted it so badly.

Craig's heart skipped a beat. Fuck.

He wasn't actually supposed to answer. And yeah, he was drunk, but he wasn't drunk enough for this.

He pushed through the wall of men and went straight to the bar. It was hard to get his wallet out of his pocket in the tight space and even harder to get the bartender's attention through all the people who wanted to get wasted, but Craig still managed to get another shot. He downed it and slammed it back onto the counter before messaging back.

A minute passed. No response.

Still no response.

Craig wasn't a crier. He almost never cried. And yet, he felt his eyes grow damp. Which was stupid, a sober part of his mind came out and told him that was stupid. Of course Tweek missed him, he was his childhood friend. Why wouldn't he miss him?

He put another ten on the counter. "Another Jager Bomb."

No immediate response. He slammed down the shot, knocking it over on the counter enough to make some guy laugh.

Oh fuck.

All the alcohol Craig drank seemed to reach his stomach at once. It twisted and turned and made him want to throw up.

He tried to text something, but ended up deleting it.

Another minute with no new message. Craig just stared at it.

Craig's throat grew tight. He wanted another shot, but he knew he'd just choke on it. He was going to puke.

Shit. Shitshitshit.

Tweek did know. He thought that moment at the parking lot was subtle. Their faces had been so close that Craig could have easily reached over and kissed him that night, but figured that wasn't at all apparent to Tweek.

Of course it was. Tweek probably saw through him all along. He probably knew Craig was gay. A few times over the years, Tweek said something that almost sounded like he was hinting at it. He probably knew about Craig's gross, disgusting, unnatural crush on him. God, Craig got close to him in ways he never would have had the nerve to if he thought Tweek knew.

He knew Tweek probably meant it when he said he'd still want to be friends, but it didn't matter. If Craig came out to him then, if he came out to him ever Tweek would rethink everything. If Craig was knowingly gay, then what the fuck was wrong with him inviting Tweek to spend the night just the two of them? For being comfortable sharing a bed? For leaning against the top of Tweek's head during a long, boring assembly when the principal droned on and on and Craig wanted to take a nap.

And now he was messaging him drunk after two years acting sappy and gay as shit. Obviously Tweek saw through him.

It was so fucking gross of Craig. Tweek would think it was gross.

Craig threw up on some guy's shoes.

He knew he'd get shit for that from the bar. Maybe he already was but was too out of it to notice. He pushed his way forward, towards the exit. His vision was hazy, but he pulled out his phone and opened Lyft. He needed to go home.

It was only the next morning that he saw what

he texted him after, having no memory of actually sending them. Something terrible, something he wanted to apologize for. And yet when he did, his message bounced back. Tweek blocked him.

So the final things he ever said to Tweek were:

2025

Craig didn't remember ordering the scrambled eggs until they were placed right in front of him.

“You sure you’re not hungry for more than that?” Tolkien asked.

He wasn’t sure if he could eat anything.

His phone buzzed. Craig ignored the unappetizing, overly runny eggs and fished it out of his pocket.

“The wife?” Clyde asked.

“Yeah.”

Her name was Love. He had never met anyone with that as a first name before. Middle name, yes, but not first. Love Aubrey. When they met, she said she got made fun of for it growing up. Compared to Tweek, it was actually pretty normal to Craig, so he had just shrugged. She loved her last name, though. She didn’t change it to Tucker, which was fine by him.

God, though, she and her family were such good people. Sure, her parents were huge hippies that lived out in Oregon with two other kids named Peace and Harmony. Yet despite their out-there choices for baby names, they were two of the nicest, warmest, most welcoming people Craig had ever met. And they loved him. 

And yeah, his marriage hadn’t really been that great, even ignoring Craig’s internal elephant in the room. He knew Love wanted this baby in hopes of saving it. He knew that was a terrible fucking idea that would never work. He didn’t want to be a dad. He didn’t wan to bring another life into this fucked up world. Especially not from a fucked up situation like this.

It was wrong of him. He knew it was wrong. It was wrong enough to get so far as to marry her, but now that there was a human life involved?

They got into a fight when he passively said the baby should take her surname. He didn’t really get it. Aubrey meant more to her than Tucker did to him. She always said that. Besides, wasn’t she all about gender equality and all that shit? He didn’t understand her sometimes.

Craig stared at the message. He didn't want to talk about it to the others, but she had an ultrasound that day. Part of why it was so easy for Craig to come to South Park so quickly was because he'd already scheduled the day off at work to be there with her. Not that he wanted to, but because he was supposed to. It was what husbands and future fathers did.

His fingers hovered the keyboard. He knew he should respond, but he didn’t know how.

“Craig, are you okay?” Tolkien asked. “You look like you could throw up.”

“Huh?” Craig’s head shot up. All four of them were staring right at him. He shook his head. “Yeah, sorry, I’m…” Not fine. Definitely not fine. “I’ll be okay.”

He shoved his phone back into his pocket.

2007

He knew he was different since seventh grade.

While most of the guys he hung out with talked about how hot Hayden Panettiere or Megan Fox were, Craig just never got the appeal. Sure, they were nice to look at, but he didn’t wanna make out with them or anything let alone…God, he didn’t even want to think about doing half the shit Jimmy and Clyde talked about. It was gross to him. Not that that meant he was gay. Late bloomer, maybe. But being gay didn’t even cross his mind.

Until he saw his sister and her dumb friends watching that High School Musical 2 movie, making a whole overly loud viewing party over it. He’d seen the first one, but by then he was too old for that shit, especially as a boy. 

But as he went in to steal some of their pizza, that stupid fucking scene of Zac Efron emotionally singing like an overdramatic idiot on that golf course came on and did something to him. At first he told himself it was because he was embarrassed for him. It was cringe-worthy. That’s why his face grew warm. 

Craig certainly wasn’t gay. 

He couldn’t be. Girls liked him. They voted him the cutest boy in school a few years ago, and practically every single one of them had a rumor that they like-liked him at one point or another. Currently, all the girls were trying to ask him about his feelings for Jenny Simons who not so subtly wanted to go to the dance with him.

His answer was “I don’t feel anything” and “dances are gay” but that didn’t stop Bebe Stephens from giggling at him, as if he were lying to her. He “like, totally” had a crush on Jenny. It was just that too-cool, stoic Craig Tucker was too embarrassed to admit it.

Bebe was wrong. Jenny Simons had no discernable personality and he could think of a quintzillion places he’d rather be than the sweaty gym on a Thursday evening. He really didn’t understand why people made up some weird version of him in their heads. Like he was some bad boy who was secretly sensitive or whatever. Girls wanted to be the one to “fix” him.

What about him was ever “bad”? He got in trouble a lot in early elementary school for being disrespectful to teachers, but that felt like a million years ago. And he never realized how quiet and unemotional he came across until people pointed it out. In his head, he was the loudest person ever with too many emotions. He wasn’t paranoid of everything in the world like his best friend Tweek was, he genuinely did take things logically.

But when it came to feelings? 

Yeah, secretly he could relate to Tweek’s external freak outs. A lot.

⁂⁂⁂

Tweek didn’t always freak out, of course. Sometimes he was so calm and serene, it was otherworldly. Yet…sad. 

There was always something sad about him.

The outdoor local pool had long since closed for the year, but Craig’s mom took them to the nearby YMCA’s indoor one. It was bigger, with roped off areas for lap areas that swimming lessons and high school swim teams used.

He never liked indoor pools as much. It was dumb and illogical, but something about it seemed wrong. Maybe the lack of proper airflow caused the large room to reek of chlorine and chemicals more. Or maybe it was how the sounds of splashes and screaming children bounced and echoed off of the warehouse-like walls. Or maybe it was just the general feeling of it. Pools and swimming were for warm summer days with the sun shining down on you. Not overcast days in late fall, where you could see bare trees out the window.

But laying on a large raft with Tweek, Craig didn’t mind it.

“What are you thinking about?” Craig asked. He had no idea why he asked that. Craig hated whenever anyone asked him that. His thoughts were his own secret place, and that question always felt like an invasion. But still, as Tweek’s eyes glazed off towards the gray sky through the window, as if his mind were a million miles away, it was hard to not wonder.

“Nothing much,” Tweek said, turning his head to look back at him. He still had that faraway, serene yet melancholic look to him, but gave a smile that seemed genuine. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

“‘Course.”

 Tweek always wore a full body suit whenever he swam. The other boys teased him for it, which always seemed to upset Tweek. Craig, in turn, never said anything about it. Why did it matter what someone chose to swim in?

Tweek bit at the corner of his mouth. “Actually, though…Do you have a crush on Jenny?”

Craig blinked. In doing so, some chlorine got into his eyes and burned slightly. “Why?” 

Why did Tweek want to talk about her? She was nobody.

“Well, everyone knows she likes you. Some people say you like her back.”

Craig shifted, a bad idea on a raft as it became unstable, splashing water on them. “Who’s some people?”

“I dunno,” Tweek said. It was unclear if the defensive tone in his voice was out of genuine emotion, or from reaching his arm out to stabilize the raft and not see them fall in. “The girls mainly?”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Well, girls are dumb.”

“Do you?”

“No!” Craig said a bit too forcefully. Tweek flinched and Craig instantly regretted it. “I–No, I don’t. I don’t like any girl. I don’t want a stupid girlfriend.”

“You don’t?”

“Hell no,” Craig said. He cracked a crooked grin. “Girls are annoying, and anyway a girlfriend seems like a pain in the ass to have. I’d rather spend my time with you.”

At that moment, Tweek’s face lit up like the missing sun. He smiled a wide, large smile unlike the small, sad ones he always gave. This one really, truly reached his eyes an made them sparkle. 

And with that, Craig felt a strange, warm feeling rise within him. One that was wonderful and amazing, terrifying and horrible all at the same time. A feeling he only ever somewhat felt when he looked at that stupid fucking Zac Efron song. Only worse. Way worse.

Suddenly, a horrible feeling of dread filled within him.

⁂⁂⁂

In order to figure out if he was truly gay or not, he needed to seek out the answer once and for all the way all questioning kids should.

Online quizzes.

Quizilla was popular, so that's what he decided he'd use. Yeah, sure, porn would be more to the point. A lot of the guys already watched it, but he was terrified of accidentally downloading a catastrophic virus onto the family computer and having his life ruined if his parents found out. No, online quizzes made a lot more sense. Careful to make sure he had Incognito Mode on, he looked over and typed into the search Am I gay?

And sure enough, there were about a million quizzes made by preteen girls trying to help others answer that very question.

This was dumb. This was really dumb. He couldn't believe he was actually sitting there on the family desktop doing this shit. Not to mention someone—ie, Clyde—was BUZZing him on Yahoo Messenger nonstop despite the fact he put his status to "leave me alone".

He still clicked the top "for boys" result, anyway.

Question 1: Do u lyk rainbowzz? xD

Well, no. Not really.

Question 2: ru OBSESED with shopping? =w=

No.

Question 3: R most of ur frendz GURLZ? O//u//O

Well, Clyde's obnoxious IM-ing proved otherwise. He rolled his eyes and opened the tab.

Craig was going to kill Clyde one of these days. He exited out of the chat and opened the quiz again.

Question 4: Ru SASSY? XDD

What the fuck did that even mean? He was sarcastic, yes, but he was nothing like those token gay guys on those reality TV shows.

He was nothing like the gay guys he'd see in the world in general.

Maybe he wasn't gay.

He put his elbows on the desk and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't deal with this right now. A dumb quiz wasn't going to give him life's answers, even if he could get through it without Clyde giving him a headache about girls and Jenny fucking Simons.

But when he thought about boys…

Craig wasn't gay. He couldn't be gay. He was just stressed and Clyde's incessant messaging was fucking with his head and his brain was trying to mess with him. Especially when his dad…

His dad…hated gay people. He always bitched about civil unions whenever they were brought up or passed in another state, let alone gay marriage. He claimed it ruined the fabric of society or something. When he found out his 3rd grade teacher Mr. Garrison was gay, he wanted him to change classes until Craig's mom talked him down. He didn't want Craig to be "influenced" he said.

And so Craig wasn't gay. It was clearly his mind trying to convince him he was the one, singular thing he really really didn't want to be as some cruel joke. He wasn't gay. He liked girls. He tried to picture any one of the girls in his classes. Kissing them didn't seem that bad. And surely if he allowed himself to picture kissing Tweek for example, it would disgust him.

But when he thought about it…it didn't. The opposite, in fact.

Craig balled his hands into fists. He wasn't going to cry, genuinely he wasn't, but he still felt a sort of annoying pressure in his eyes.

He exited Internet Explorer, and typed furiously into the messenger.

He wasn't gay. He wasn't. No one thought that about him. Clyde was messing with him, right? He didn't like rainbows or shopping or being "sassy". He was a boy, a boy who liked boy things. Just not other boys. He liked girls.

He could make himself like Jenny.

Heart pounding in anger, he exited out of the window again. He knew it wasn't "romantic" to ask girls out via IM, but he didn't really care. He went to his friends list. He would ask her out like the detached, emotionless cool boy he was. Straight cool boy.

He had missed messages from Tweek. The newest from less than 5 minutes ago.

Unlike Clyde, Tweek never used that obnoxious buzz-ing function. He was always so patient whenever Craig didn't respond right away, even if he didn't send a "brb" or "ttyl". But…

But his mind was too fucked up at that moment to even think about talking to Tweek at that moment.

He scrolled down his friends list and found Jenny. She was online.

2025

Craig sat at the sofa in his parents’ living room. The furniture hadn’t changed since childhood. The PC was gone, of course. His parents didn’t even have a desktop anymore. Most of the websites and apps he used back then no longer existed.

His mom bent down and hugged him.

“I’m glad you’re home,” she said. “Even if I wish it was for happier reasons.”

“Yeah,” Craig said dully. He let her hug him, but didn’t move to return the gesture at all.

She sighed, removing her arms and sitting beside him.

“How’s Love?” she asked. She brushed back his bangs from his forehead like she did when he was a little kid.

Craig shrugged. “She’s going to the doctor later today.” He looked down at his hands. He was fiddling with a red pen that had been on the coffee table, tapping it against his knee. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Craig…” She put her hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t move, she squeezed down. “Craig, look at me.”

He did. His mom was still beautiful, despite being more up there in age. Sure, she did botox and always dyed her hair blonde which shaved off a few years, but she didn’t overdo it.

“Are you…Are you happy, Craig?”

Craig shoved her arm away. “Tweek just died, mom. Of course I’m not fucking happy.”

“You know that’s not what I…” She sighed. “Before then. Were you happy three days ago?”

No. No, he wasn’t.

“Of course I was.”

He didn’t look back at her. His eyes focused on the pen. He clicked it over and over again.

He wasn’t really looking at the pen, though. It was just a stupid anchor. In reality, he was lost in his head.

When Craig was in university or maybe right after, he came across a picture of several apples all varying in detail. An aphantasia test. Apparently, some people had no mind’s eye. When they closed their eyes, all they saw was blackness.

That concept terrified him more than the concept of his real eyes going blind. Obviously, he didn’t want to go blind, either, but he always thought to himself that if he ever did at least he could still picture things in his head. He could picture anything in his head. It was just as vivid and real as everything he saw with his eyes. Not in a hallucination way. He knew it was in his head.

He thought that was normal. Apparently, it wasn’t. And on top of that, not everyone had an internal monologue. That was equally difficult for him to believe. What would it be like to not have a voice screaming in his head 24/7? 

He couldn’t smoke weed because the few times he did, the line between reality and his mind became too blurred. Once again, not as a hallucination but even so, it felt as if he were falling through different realities, one in the real world, the other in his head. The random guy he smoked with said his consciousness was projecting itself elsewhere in some metaphysical way, which just pissed him off because of course it wasn’t. It was just that his mind’s eye was too strong and his head was too loud.

But he did love his ability to imagine shit sometimes. Whenever his parents screamed at each other, physically he’d lay down on his bed and stare at the white ceiling, but mentally he was in the world of Red Racer on some fun adventure. When his guinea pig Stripe died, he wasn’t there burying him in a shoebox in the backyard. He was at some cool zoo that was exclusively made up of guinea pigs. Stripe was there, guiding Craig through it. When he was…with his wife, no he wasn’t. That wasn’t happening. He was out somewhere with some generic hot guy, probably on some tropical vacation at the crystal blue sea. Love was just some college friend he kept in touch with sometimes.

But more often than not, especially lately, Craig was trapped less in fantasies and more in his memories. Not on purpose. Another thing Craig thought was normal was one’s inability to control their own thoughts. The idea that not everyone had to have the most horrible and unwanted memories or images or sounds forced into their head over and over and over genuinely pissed him off.

And the memories were playing over and over and over again. Ones of Tweek, mainly. Not the happy times, generally speaking, because that would be too easy.

It was his fuck ups. The big ones. All the major instances where he either didn’t say anything or said the wrong thing. Yes, the human memory was fickle, but he knew he was reliving it perfectly, just as it really happened. It was so real. As real as his living room, as his mom sitting next to him. In his mind’s replay function, it was like he could reach out and touch Tweek. And he also knew it was real because no matter how strongly, how painfully he wanted to change the past, he couldn’t. Every last word, every last action would play exactly as it did back then.

2016

Though, to be fair, not every fuck up of his had anything to do with Tweek.

Craig was in the hallway of his latest hookup’s dorm. His name was Thomas and he was a genuinely nice guy who really seemed to really like Craig. He reminded Craig a lot of Tweek, to be honest. Blond, though a darker shade. Sweet. Twitchy, but due to Tourettes instead of whatever Tweek had going on. And yeah, maybe when he was with that guy he found himself pretending it was Tweek, but still. 

They weren’t really dating, but they could have been. Thomas dropped only a billion hints that he wanted to be his boyfriend. But he also understood that Craig had his own myriad of issues and wasn’t ready for that. He said he was willing to wait as long as it took.

And as for Craig…he could be happy with Thomas. He wasn’t Tweek, but then no one could be Tweek. He was genuinely attracted to him. He could probably learn to fall in love with him.

But as he called his dad in that dingy hallway, he tried to erase those thoughts from his mind.

“Hey dad, you okay?”

“Craig! Glad to hear from you, son.”

His dad was in the hospital due to a sudden blood pressure spike. Nothing super severe like a heart attack or anything, but they wanted him under supervision for at least 24 hours.

“Of course.” Craig pressed his back against the wall. He was never particularly close to his dad and nowadays talked to his mom infinitely more, but he didn’t have bad feelings for him. When his mom texted him about this, he had genuinely been really worried. He loved his dad.

Especially because he had come a long way. Trump really broke his brain. He hated that man. At first he was more or less a Never Trump Republican, but slowly but surely he was becoming a bigger lib than his mom was. He may have hated Hillary Clinton, but he still went on about how he was going to vote for her and how anyone with a brain should. And with that, the floodgates to other more left leaning issues came, too. He began to listen.

Well, not to Craig, because Craig didn’t speak to him about those things. But Tricia did. She always had their dad wrapped around her finger. So when she talked to him about all sorts of things she was passionate about, from racial injustice to feminist issues to…to queer issues, he’d actually listen to his “precious little girl” like he never, ever would to Craig. 

Yes much of what his dad did was performative, but if you told Craig a few years ago that his dad would change his Facebook profile picture to have a dumb rainbow filter, he’d have never believed them. 

But also, where the fuck was that guy when Craig was a teenager?

“I’m doing fine,” his dad said. “They’re letting me leave today.”

“That’s good.”

They didn’t speak for a moment. Craig could hear the sound of medical machines beep on the other end.

“Which means…you’re okay, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m a strong guy. Don’t worry about me.”

“If you’re not, I can go back to South Park and—”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m fine. Enjoy your college life while you can. I’m sure your mom made it sound worse than it is.”

Craig let out a singular chuckle under his breath. “Okay.”

“But you are coming back for Christmas, right?”

“Of course.”

“Then if you really wanna do something for me, how about you bring a pretty girl home? Your mom and I would love it.”

The small crooked smile on Craig’s face fell. He was glad he wasn’t FaceTiming him.

Yeah, his dad was less homophobic now, but that didn’t mean…Well, natually the assumption would always be that Craig was straight. He dated a bunch of different girls throughout middle and high school. He failed a lot of people’s gaydars, some of his hookups even accused him of being a bicurious straight dude.

Maybe it was easier for his dad to lose some of his homophobia because he “knew” both his kids were straight. He read coming-out stories on forums of guys who had perfectly accepting parents who supported gay rights up until their own child came out.

He didn’t think his dad would hate him for it, and he definitely wouldn’t disown him. Not anymore. 

But he wouldn’t like it. 

And now his dad was in the hospital for high blood pressure. Did he really need to make it worse?

He glanced towards the door of Thomas’s dorm room. 

It would have never worked with him. For one, he had the same name as his dad which would always make things weird. And for another, even if Craig liked him enough, he didn’t feel the same spark he had with Tweek. It wasn’t enough to potentially ruin his life over.

Besides, there was a girl he knew in his Spanish class. A quirky purple-haired girl named Love of all things. She was genuinely funny and charming and not so subtly hint that she wanted to go get drinks with him. On top of that, she mentioned how her parents were “spiritualists” who didn’t believe in the consumerism of Christmas or whatever the fuck. 

Tricia would love her, but she’d be way to the left and “out there” for his parents. Who knew what they’d think. If they loved her, or at least accepted her, then that meant they really were more open minded. And if they could accept her then…Well then maybe one day they’d be accepting of a guy he’d eventually bring home. 

One day.

“Craig, are you still there?”

“Yeah,” Craig said. He pushed himself off the wall and went down the hallway, away from Thomas’s dorm. “I think I know the girl.”

2025

“It’s a boy,” Love said over a video call that evening. She hadn’t had colored hair in years. Nowadays she kept her brown hair short due to how damaged it was. Still, the short bob suited her.

“Craig, did you hear me?”

Craig’s eyes widened with sudden alertness. No. Well, yes. He did hear her. He had simply been far more focused on her hair than the gender of his first child. “Yeah, sorry. I did.”

She shook her head. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

“Um…Yeah, we’re having a son?” He adjusted the iPad on his childhood nightstand.

A son. Throwing balls in the backyard or whatever.

Being a dad to a young boy. The male figurehead to some poor soul he put into the world. A boy who would look to him to learn how to be a real man from him.

God, his son was going to be screwed.

“Jesus Craig, what is wrong with you? Do you even want to have a kid?”

“The hell do you mean by that?” There was that same implication his mom made a few hours earlier. Was he that shitty at this that everyone thought he was miserable and hated the idea of being a father?

Well, they’d be right, but he didn’t want people to know that!

Love looked away from the camera. “You know, it might not be too late to get rid of it. Is that what you want, Craig?”

Craig’s eyes widened. Well…yes, kind of. He knew better than to say it directly, but from the moment her test was positive, he secretly hoped she’d change her mind. If he had a kid, he’d do his best. Which probably wouldn’t be enough, but he liked to think he’d try. But he didn’t want a kid.

“Is that…what you want?” he asked.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“What?!” Craig practically yelled. “You asked! And what about all that talk about how it’s your body and your pregnancy. I’m fucking sorry if I accept your decision. Jesus.”

“Oh what a fucking feminist you are.”

“Give me a fucking break, Love! My best friend just died. I don’t have time for your stupid fucking mind games.”

“Oh yeah,” she laughed in disbelief. “Your ‘best friend’.” She did air quotes. “You wanna tell me why in the nearly ten fucking years we’ve been together you’ve never once mentioned him to me? If he’s that important to you, you’d think he’d be a regular topic of conversation.” 

“You think I’m lying about him?” Craig’s heart pounded with anger. “Why would I do that? What would I even gain by lying about that?”

“Hell if I know!” Her laugh grew louder, more uncontrolled. “But the thing is, Craig, I don’t even necessarily think you’re lying to me about him. Because I do buy that you’d keep something like that from me. And you know what? I’m really starting to feel like I have no fucking clue who the man I married even is.”

“Well maybe I didn’t even talk about him for a reason!”

“Oh? And what reason could that possibly be?! I’m listening.”

“Because I felt guilty about him, okay!?” his voice cracked. Fuck, he didn’t mean to start crying.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Because it’s my fault he spiraled in the first place! Okay? And now he’s dead and I…I…” He was hyperventilating. So much so he couldn't let out another word even if he wanted to.

Because it was true. It was his fault.

2008

While he knew the incident in fourth grade could be blamed on his youth and plausible deniability, he had no excuse for his eighth grade self. 

He had been at Jimmy’s house. He couldn’t remember why. Maybe Guitar Hero or something. His house was close enough to walk to.

But on the way home he had to cut through the park. The one directly across the street from Tweak Bros.

The park he always cut through.

But he had to go to the bathroom.

The public park bathroom was always sketchy and dirty and freezing due to the lack of an entrance door, but he decided he’d risk it.

It was early evening, already getting dark. The little kids who played there had already gone home. The bathroom should have been empty.

It wasn’t.

For a split second, Craig thought he was seeing things.

Tweek was sitting there. On the filthy ground, by the sink. Sobbing.

And more than sobbing, he was hurt.

There was a big bruise across his face, his nose bloody. Not severe or anything. Bruises were a normal part of Tweek’s appearance, as fucked up as that sounded.

Everyone knew Richard Tweak was a monster.

But Tweek’s arms.

Craig would never, ever, ever forget the way his arms looked that day.

And in his hand…

Craig couldn’t deal with it.

While Tweek didn’t notice he was there.

Which was probably a good thing, right? Tweek wouldn’t want Craig to see him like this. 

He probably wanted to be alone.

Tweek never talked about his home life. He always covered himself up. He’d get defensive. He didn’t want to talk about it. 

Tweek never asked for help. He didn’t see the point.

His dad was too calm, too charismatic. He was a family guy, a local business owner. If anyone did try to step in, he could sit with an out of town officer with a pastry and coffee and convince them that he was the best dad in the world.

And there…then…Would it have been wrong for Craig to have stepped in? Would he have made things worse? Only humiliate his best friend when he was already down? Get him in even more trouble? Maybe…Maybe Tweek would do something more drastic. Something unthinkable.

But.

But Tweek was hurt.

He wasn’t okay.

Tweek was alone and bleeding and they were still only kids. 

And Craig was his friend. His best friend. Friends help each other. He could get an adult involved. His parents, the school, someone to help Tweek. Tweek needed help.

He took a step forward.

But froze.

If he stepped in, he’d make things worse. He always made things worse. 

He would drive Tweek away from him.

Craig turned around, feet stepping as quietly as possible. Straight towards home.

Craig did call Tweek later that night on his flip phone. He made sure Tweek was okay, but he didn’t reference it. Tweek answered and acted like nothing was wrong. So much so that it almost made Craig second guess if he simply hallucinated it all. 

So of course, nothing was done.

2025

The official cause of death was drug overdose. This wasn’t publicly broadcasted information, but in a small town like South Park it didn’t take long for everyone to know.

It was surprising to no one. Craig figured as much the second his mom called him that night.

No signs of foul play, no need for a homicide investigation. That was a relief, if one could call it that. 

What Craig had really wanted to know was why. 

Intentional? Or accidental?

What was Tweek thinking in his final moments? Was he lonely, laying there on that dirty motel bed? Did he want to die? Or was he so high out of his mind that he didn’t know what was happening anymore?

Craig wanted so badly to be there. Not to watch him die. Of course not.

But Tweek shouldn’t have been alone.

Craig never should have left him alone.

But they couldn’t determine Tweek’s intent. He left no note nor said anything to anyone. He had been doing badly lately. But they’d probably never know if Tweek killed himself or not.

Either way, drugs were the death of him. 

They were always going to be the death of him.

2011

Even before Craig had proof, he had suspected Tweek of using for a while. It wasn’t like it started over night, where one day he was “normal” the next not. Even so, the turn was…dramatic.

Yes, a lot of things were probably due to his home life. He’d always been paranoid, shaky. But it got worse. He’d show up to school high out of his mind sometimes. Pupils dilated, sweaty despite the cold weather, picking his cuticles until they bled, grinding his teeth. Craig gave him gum once in hopes he would’t break his fucking jaw and holy shit he had never seen anyone chew that fervently before.

To his credit, Craig did try to hint at it once or twice. Every single time, it pissed Tweek off. Tweek was never snappy like that before. Stubborn, yes, but never vicious. Yet whenever Craig so much as acknowledged the existence of drugs, no matter how happy and cheerful Tweek had been moments before, he would flip. 

Tweek was the sweetest, kindest person he knew. So to see him go from that to the angriest, most spiteful person in the blink of an eye was terrifying to say the least.

A lot of the time, Craig wasn’t even trying to bring up drugs. He had only asked what Tweek had been doing the night before that he wasn’t texting back. Or why he was hanging out with Kenny behind the park dumpsters in the evening.

“None of your fucking business!”

It was so out of character for Tweek to talk like that, it took him aback. “Dude, I was just curious, I wasn’t trying to—”

“Why do you care, anyway?” Tweek spat, physically shoving Craig away from him. Was that in the cafeteria? Or in the hallway? Craig was pretty sure this happened in the school hallway but there couldn’t have been that many other people around. But he clearly remembered how enraged his eyes were as he yelled. “What, you don’t like me hanging out with other people? You think you get a say in what I do?!”

“No!” Craig said, raising his hands and taking a step back. “That’s not at all what I was saying.”

“You think there’s something wrong with me, don’t you?!” 

“What the fuck are you even talking about, Tweek?” Craig felt his own anger rise. “Why can’t I ask my best friend a simple fucking question?!”

“Rich coming from you of all fucking people!” Tweek had tears of anger in his eyes. He wiped them on his sleeve. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you. DON’T YOU?!”

“No! Well, maybe right now because you’re freaking the fuck out on me for no goddamn reason!”

“I’m not fucking crazy!!! I’m allowed to do what I want with my life!”

“Where the hell did I ever imply otherwise? Tweek, calm the fuck down and think about this.” He tried to reach out an arm, but Tweek smacked it away with a loud slap.

“Don’t you ever tell me to calm the fuck down!”

“Fuck! Fine! Jesus Christ I won’t say anything to you about anything.” His hand stung like a motherfucker from that hit so he shook his hand. “Do whatever the fuck you want, see if I care!”

It never ended their friendship or anything. Eventually Tweek would calm down, and next time he saw him, he’d act like it never happened. He’d be back to his sweet, kind self that Craig fell so hard in love with. Well, no, it was clear he still wasn’t doing well and was high as fuck all the time, shaky and muttering to himself. Or that time practically collapsed in the school entrance until Craig dragged him to a bench and made him drink a whole bottle of water. 

Though at least he’d at least have the spirit of his old self.

But he’d always snap again. Or try to provoke Craig.

It came to a head a few weeks later. When Tweek came over to Craig’s one afternoon. He dropped his unzipped backpack down onto the floor of his bedroom. The contents spilled out, right in front of Craig’s face.

Years down, he realized Tweek almost definitely did that on purpose as some sort of fucked up test. To see how Craig would react. Of course, Tweek quickly swooped down and shoved all that shit back in and zipped it up. But there was no way Tweek wouldn’t have put those things in a smaller hidden zipper. He would have checked a billion times to make sure there was no way Craig could find it had he not wanted him to.

He knew Tweek did it on purpose, but what the fuck did he want Craig to do about it? He never could figure that out.

At the time, Craig knew how volatile Tweek would get. How angry, how mean he could be about it. He already knew Tweek was using and saying something would only ruin their afternoon. Tweek had seemed so happy, so…almost normal that day. If he tried to do something, it wasn’t like Tweek would listen to him, anyway.

So he didn’t acknowledge it.

2025

Craig wore the same black suit he wore to his wedding. It was the only one he had, so. He stared at himself in the full length mirror in his bedroom that still had the same Red Racer stickers he stuck on it as in elementary school.

It was going to be at the local Catholic Church. Neither Tweek nor Craig were ever particularly religious, but since Tweek was baptised there…

He guessed it was good his death wasn’t officially ruled a suicide, right? Or was that no longer the rule with Catholics? He didn’t know.

“You look handsome,” his mom said with that sad, heavy smile. She wore a simple black dress he’d never seen before. Did she buy it for this occasion?

He looked out the window. “Dad’s waiting in the car. We should probably go.”

She rubbed his back. “Tweek will be glad you came.”

“No he wouldn’t,” he said, still staring out the window. “He’d…” His words got caught in his throat.

“There’s nothing you could have done, Craig,” she said, rubbing her hand across his back. “You can’t blame yourself. You haven’t seen him for ten whole years, but you were always a light in his life. People grow apart. He made his own decisions, and it’s not your fault. You have to understand that.”

Craig couldn’t help it.

The dam broke. He sobbed into his mama’s chest like a little boy.

2019

He wasn’t actually sure when the last time he saw Tweek was. Yes, the last time he spoke to him was in 2015, in person 2013.

But he didn’t know when the last time he saw his face was.

In 2019 he asked Love to marry him. She had been hinting for a while, even sending him a link to a lab-grown diamond store she just “happened” to think was cool. They’d already been living together and at the time he convinced himself it was a good idea. It would help with taxes and benefits and stuff. For thousands of years people got married for convenience over love, so. 

Besides, she loved him. He liked her. He genuinely thought of her as a good friend. They were still young and just getting their footing in the professional world, so their wedding likely wouldn’t be for a few more years.

At the time, he didn’t really think of it as cruel to her when it was what she wanted. It would make her happy. He would be a good husband for her and he would do everything he could to give her a good life. How would it be a problem for her? He never cheated on her and never would—he owed her that much. She’d never know his true thoughts, so his true thoughts were irrelevant.

He even did things the “right” way. He asked her parents for permission, to which they were thrilled but gave a “She’s a grown adult, you don’t gotta ask us!” He proposed at her favorite restaurant on her birthday. A friend of hers was secretly there to take photos. She was thrilled.

They went down to South Park not long later to announce things to Craig’s parents officially. Just for a long weekend. Craig’s dad surprisingly loved Love, so he was ecstatic. Glad Craig was truly becoming a man. Joked that he was worried about him for a while, but that he turned out alright in the end.

Craig’s mom gave them a fifty and asked for them to run to the store and get more milk and eggs so she could bake a cake for them. Obviously they agreed. Anyone would do anything for his mom. So Craig drove himself and his fiancee to the same local grocery store he’d gone to his whole life. It had been bought out by a major chain and heavily renovated a few years ago. They kept the original name due to public outcry, though.

“I’m surprised you have homeless people in a town like this,” Love said as they pulled into the parking lot.

Craig raised an eyebrow as he tried to hunt for the best possible spot. “We don’t usually.”

“Oh. I thought I saw one.”

“Really?” It wasn’t that busy, so he picked a spot pretty close to the front entrance. He parked and took his keys, swinging the door open. “Where?”

She exited the car as well. “Across the street over there,” she said, gesturing with her head across the street.

Craig glanced over.

He wished he didn’t.

The suburban town road was very wide, the other side quite far. Looking at phone and computer screens 24/7 had fucked with his vision. He couldn’t see clearly.

But yes, there was someone there. Not clearly homeless—there was no tent or full shopping cart or anything. But someone dirty, in ragged clothes who looked…rough. Craig squinted, trying to see better, to confirm his gut instinct as wrong. He couldn’t. All he could make out was that whoever he was, he was blond.

It wasn’t Tweek, though.

It couldn’t be.

It really, really, really could not be Tweek.

“You okay?” Love asked. She put her hand to his arm.

“Yeah, I…”

It wasn’t Tweek. It couldn’t be Tweek. There were a lot of blond guys in a white ass town like this. And drugs hit South Park like they had every small town in America.

Tweek probably didn’t even do drugs anymore. He probably left South Park, left Colorado ages ago. He hated his parents, there was no way he’d still be here six years later. Even if he didn’t get over his drug problems, he’d leave.

“Do you know that guy?” she asked.

It wasn’t Tweek. It wasn’t Tweek. It wasn’t Tweek. It wasn’t Tweek. 

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

It was just some guy. Probably from out of town. Hitchhiking, maybe.

It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t.

“Craig?” she asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

His hands were shaking so much the keys he held were clankering together like a bell. He stuffed them in his pocket.

“No,” he said, turning towards the store. “Let’s go.”

2025

Craig wasn’t really aware of what was going on for most of the funeral. His body was there, but his head wasn’t.

He and his parents sat in the pews towards the back. Near the most colorful stained glass that Craig always stared at as a child. The one of two angels doing…something. He never knew which Bible story it was from. He actually preferred it that way.

The church wasn’t packed, but quite a few of their former classmates showed up. Those he saw at Benny’s. Jimmy flew in like he said he would. He gave Craig a polite yet solemn wave from the pews across the aisle.

Tweek’s parents were there. Craig knew they would be, but even so he couldn’t believe their audacity. All dressed in fancy black mourning clothing. How could two people be such awful, evil, horrific monsters standing there in the front like that, in front of the picture of a younger, healthier Tweek they destroyed? How could they act like they were the victims in this? They weren’t. They didn’t have the right to pretend to mourn their son. And they were pretty shitty pretenders anyway.

But then…the same went for Craig, right?

Who was he to be there?

Craig wasn’t some victim.

Yes, he was miserable. He hated his life, he hated himself. But he wasn’t the victim. He was never the victim. His wife was. His unborn child was. He was the monster who did this to them and to himself. But more than that, he did this to everyone around him. Didn’t he? Didn’t he actively ruin Tweek’s life, too?

Or was it too self-important for him to think that way? Yes, Craig fucked up with Tweek, but was it his own ego to think of himself as so important? That he could have ever hoped to change things? Tweek was a thirty year old man, who was Craig to think of himself as some failed knight in shining armor who in any of the million realities in the multiverse could have had the potential to save him? Maybe he was always going to fail Tweek. Maybe he wasn’t important enough to make a difference.

There he was, doing it again. Making it about himself. Why couldn’t he stop doing that? Even in his just and righteous self-evaluations over his flaws, how he hurt people, he couldn’t help but make everything about himself. 

Craig wasn’t the victim of this story. He wasn’t even the main character. He ruined his own life and that was on him. Tweek’s life was ruined by others. Craig created all of his own problems and had no one to blame but himself.

Knowing this didn’t stop his mind from doing this. 

From thinking about all of his mistakes. From thinking about how just one little thing could have changed everything.

All of those mistakes. They played on repeat in his head. Always the same. Over and over and over and over and over.

All the mistakes that made him lose Tweek. 

2009

Like in ninth grade when he was dating Annie Knits. He didn’t like her that much, and there was drama because she had been good friends with his ex Jenny. Still, she was pretty and single so he asked her out.

Even though Craig never did anything he was popular in high school. Him and Annie got voted the freshmen equivalent of king and queen for the homecoming court. He didn’t nominate himself. He didn’t campaign for it. He didn’t even want to go to that stupid dance.

And when he was there, he wanted to be with Tweek.

Tweek was wearing a nice button-down shirt that Craig lent him. His hair was flattened for once. He smiled and waved to Craig from across the gym.

But Craig had to stay with the rest of the homecoming court. Around Annie and upperclassmen he didn’t know.

While Tweek was alone.

2010

Or what about that time Craig almost came out to him? 

Craig had been single for a while. Annie and him didn’t last a week after homecoming ended.

Tweek had been over at his house for a sleepover. He had been doing a little better. He’d gained some weight and had more color to his face. For a while, high school and its extracurriculars seemed to be really good for him.

They both sat on Craig’s bed, watching low budget YouTube skits on his iPad. It was small and the speaker sucked, so they sat with their bodies pressed against each other. Tweek’s hand brushed against his, which sent sparks through Craig’s entire body. He expected Tweek to jerk away, but he didn’t.

Their eyes locked, no longer paying attention to whatever it was that they had been watching. Craig’s heart pounded so loudly, he wondered if Tweek could hear it.

Maybe Tweek was gay, too.

But if not…well. Maybe Craig should tell him the truth. If they were going to have sleepovers and be this physically close, it was only fair to Tweek for him to know. It terrified Craig, but at that moment he was pretty sure—even if it meant Tweek would be uncomfortable, he wouldn’t hate him for it.

Criag opened his mouth to speak. Yet before he could force the words out, Tweek cut him off.

“I’m glad you’re my friend.”

Craig closed his mouth. Then opened it again to say, “Of course.”

“I mean it,” Tweek said. His bright blue eyes stared so intently into Craig’s. “At home…” He scrunched his face. “I know you know it’s…not great. And are, well…”

Craig didn’t know what to say. Tweek sighed and continued. 

“So…I’m glad I have you as a friend, Craig. When things are bad, you…Well, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He gave an embarrassed, crooked smile. “Sorry, that sounds…” He looked down. “But seriously. Thank you, Craig.”

Craig couldn’t ruin that moment by coming out. So he didn’t. He didn’t say anything. He simply resumed the stupid fucking YouTube video.

2005

It was a rare hot summer day. The sky was bright blue without a cloud in the sky. They were laying flat on their backs in the grass of Craig’s backyard. The sprinkler lightly sprayed them every few seconds, which was a relief in that heat. Fifth grade was going to start next week, and they were going to be in different classes. They would still see each other at recess, but it wouldn’t be the same.

Since there were no clouds to watch, they stared at each other’s faces instead. Tweek had a nasty black eye he claimed was from falling on the corner of a table. Yet despite that, he was smiling. He was beautiful.

“You’re my best friend, you know.” Tweek looked back up at the sky. “I know I might not be yours, but—”

“You’re my best friend, too,” Craig said all too quickly. A year ago, he would have claimed his best friend was Clyde. And he and Clyde were still close. But Clyde hung out with everyone nowadays, including people like Eric Cartman who Craig couldn’t stand. He stayed away from Clyde when Cartman was there. 

But with Tweek? He wanted to spend every waking moment with Tweek. Even if Cartman was there.

Tweek’s face lit up. His messy yellow hair made him look like the sun. “Best friends, then?” He held out a pinkie towards Craig. 

Craig reached out his own and linked it. Pinkie swears seemed a bit girly, but he’d humor him. “Yeah.”

Who knows how long they laid there in silence for. Long enough for the sprinkler to stop. Long enough for Craig to feel gross and sweaty but not really care. Looking at the sky, the grass, but mainly each other’s faces.

“Craig?” Tweek asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we’ll be best friends forever?”

Craig looked up at the sky as he pondered this.

When he was in kindergarten, Clyde and him promised to be best friends forever. Yeah, sure, they were still friends, but that clearly didn’t hold up. 

Back then, when his mom was giving him a bubble bath he prattled on about how Clyde and him were going to be “BFFs forever! No matter what!” His mom laughed and said that it was possible, but that it was important to know that people change and friends often grow apart. She didn’t keep in touch with any of her childhood friends.

Craig grew angry at her answer. She simply laughed and popped some of the bubbles that ended up on his nose. She said that it didn’t mean her childhood friendships were less meaningful. They were important and made her the big grown up she was today. Change was just a normal part of life that Craig shouldn’t be afraid of.

So when Craig answered Tweek with, “Probably not, but that’s okay” he really didn’t mean it with malice. He meant it logically. Because they were best friends then and it meant something, but it was okay if they grew apart one day.

But the look on Tweek’s face when he said that…

2025

Craig stood over Tweek’s open casket. He didn’t even remember walking over to it.

Morticians probably hid away any drug-induced flaws on his skin that he must have had at his time of death. Even his lips were smooth. They'd never been that smooth before.

But he was so thin.

He had always been small, but not like that. His cheekbones and even his nose were way too defined. His hands and fingers linked together across his chest looked like a skeleton. Even the suit they put him in was much too large.

Even so, he looked like he was sleeping. Peacefully. Maybe even happily.

But he wasn’t.

No matter what he looked like, he wasn’t.

Tweek was dead. 

And Craig was hyperventilating. 

When did that start? Deep, heavy breaths in and out and yet oxygen didn’t seem to reach his lungs at all. Was he breathing or suffocating? His hand flew to his chest. His heart was so tight. Was he having a heart attack? Was he dying? No, probably not. He was panicking. But it felt like a heart attack.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t see. Everything was a blur with all the tears in his eyes.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t be a father. He couldn’t go back to his wife. Back to that prison of a house that would never be a home. Back to his job at that evil, soulless corporation building flying death traps. He couldn’t turn into his own father.

He couldn’t go on in this world anymore. He couldn’t take it.

He could pinpoint all the mistakes he made, right? All the little and big things that added up. He relived them every single day. They were as real as this church. As real as Tweek’s fucking corpse on display in front of him. Maybe even more real. It was real. The mistakes he made were real and present and he continuously made them over and over again.

Why didn’t he change them? 

He needed to change them.

He needed to go back.

He had to do things over.

He had to. 

He…

He couldn’t live in a world that didn’t have Tweek in it.

And if Tweek wasn’t in this world anymore, then clearly he needed to change it.

He had to. He had to. He had to.

He—

2004

Although they had known each other all their lives, they only really became good friends in the fourth grade. 

They both had Mr. Garrison in third grade, but Tweek had somehow been roped into hanging out with the four most obnoxious boys in school so Craig stayed away. Not that Craig was lonely or anything, he had Clyde and Tolkien who had been his friends since forever, as well as the new transfer kid, Jimmy.

In Ms. Nelson’s fourth grade class Cartman’s obnoxious band and Tweek seemed to have split up. They didn’t seem to hate Tweek all of a sudden—those assholes always made it abundantly clear when someone got on their bad side. Tweek never really seemed to be on anyone’s bad side. Sure, he didn’t seem to have any particular best friend or even permanent group. He was the type of kid that was friendly with everyone but friends to few. He stood out for being fidgety and paranoid, but there were way worse things to be at their school.

It was an early fall day that changed everything.

Despite being just the start of fall, the weather was already in the forties in South Park’s high elevation. Still, nine and ten year old kids barely ever seemed to notice the weather. Well, except Craig, even if only out of spite. He wished his family could pack up and move somewhere warm.

Jimmy was gone that day on account of a Special Ed field trip, while Clyde and Tolkien were spending all recess playing tetherball together. So it was easy for Craig to  

2005

“Craig?” Tweek asked.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we’ll be best friends forever?”

Craig looked up at the sky as he pondered this.

2007

Craig balled his hands into fists. He wasn't going to cry, but he still felt a sort of damp pressure to his eyes. He exited Internet Explorer, and typed furiously into the messenger.

Craig rolled his eyes, but really he was thankful for Clyde's idiocy for distracting him from his stupid gay panic.

Whatever. Maybe he was gay. Maybe he wasn't. He was only 13, he didn't need to figure any of this annoying crap out yet. He needed to figure out his pre-Algebra homework first. He closed all of the windows on the computer and was ready to get off. But before he logged out of the desktop, he decided to check his silenced messenger to see if anyone that wasn't an obnoxious BUZZ-abuser messaged him.

Tweek did. Three missed messages. He clicked on it.

Pre-Algebra could wait.

2008

He had been at Jimmy’s house. Mr. Valmer had bought him the new Rock Band 2 for his Xbox and Craig wanted to try the drums. He totally sucked at them, but the two boys still had a lot of fun rocking out to Linkin Park and Rage Against the Machine.

It was more of a workout than he expected. The walk home from Jimmy’s house to his own wasn’t far, but he was all out of energy by the time he cut through the park he always did. It was already early evening, so all the little kids who hung out there had gone home. He liked the quiet and sat down on the bench. 

But in doing so, he accidentally plopped his hand down on a freshly chewed piece of gum.

“Ew.”

The bathroom in the park was sketchy and dirty, but it had a sink and usually had soap. He’d rather not walk another ten minutes home without at least rinsing his hand of that stranger’s gross spit.

Since the park was empty, he figured the bathroom would be too.

It wasn’t.

For a split second, Craig thought he was seeing things.

Tweek was sitting there. On the filthy ground, by the sink. Sobbing.

And more than sobbing, he was hurt.

There was a big bruise across his face, his nose bloody. Not severe or anything. Bruises were a normal part of Tweek’s appearance, as fucked up as that sounded.

Everyone knew Richard Tweak was a monster.

But his arms.

He would never, ever, ever forget the way his arms looked.

And in his hand…

Craig couldn’t deal with it.

While Tweek didn’t notice he was there.

Which was probably a good thing, right? Tweek wouldn’t want 

2009

Tweek was wearing a nice button-down shirt that Craig lent him. His hair was flattened for once. He smiled and waved to Craig from across the gym.