Just got back from vacation.

Sand...is...everywhere...

(WARNING!: Short chapterness, bad language and just total faggotry )

Crai'gs POV this time and I do not own South Park

Okay I know on the outside I looked cool and calm because it's who I am. I was known not to let my emotions (if any) show on the exterior. That's just everyone's basic description when they're asked, "Who is Craig Tucker?" It's always the guy in the blue that's currently flipping you off not giving a damn about it, isn't it? Right now though I was the complete opposite of what I showed on the outside...which really doesn't happen often. But seriously I was kissing Tweek Tweak for the third time this day! I was squealing like a fucking fan girl inside my head and not just because of the kiss itself, it was because this was a real kiss. That first kiss today was by force in a restroom stall that Tweek resisted mostly and the second one was just a "can you do me a favor" type of kiss, a chore, if you will, so there was really no actual meaning to it at all. But this, right now was different by a long shot. Tweek wanted this kiss just as much as I wanted it myself. There were no chores or force, it almost felt like it was just instinct.

I'm really fucking surprised he's actually kissing me. It's blowing my mind that he isn't backing away right this second. I thought the hate he felt for me still ran deep in his blood...I knew he hated me. He made sure I knew every day just by not getting anywhere near me and I honestly couldn't blame him for hating me. I probably hated myself more than he could possibly hate me. I lost Tweek because of my own stupid actions; it was my entire fault for how this all turned out and why he had to seek comfort from...I don't even want to think of his awful name. The blood was on my hands and not anyone else's. Yes, I could have apologized. I could've got him back. But I felt it was for the best just to keep him as far away from me as possible, just in case I hurt him all over again. When I didn't talk to him after the whole incident I knew, as I said before, that he needed me...it was a fact that he wasn't just going to let me go without a fight and he would try to force me to talk it out with him, try to make things better and back to the way they used to be. I couldn't let that happen. Not a chance. I wasn't what he needed. He wanted Craig but I wasn't Craig. I wasn't even human.

I was a monster.

So when he cornered me I didn't know what else to do and I had to be an asshole, to him of all people. I spoke the word he resented the most out of all the horrible things he had been called by bullies in the past, his weakest point, and I used it against him for what I thought (at the time) was for his own good. I called him a freak. That certainly was the lowest and most "assholey" thing I felt that I had ever done in my life but it was enough for him to give up on trying to fix what was already broken beyond repair. It made me depressed the minute I uttered it from my mouth and I didn't even look at his face when I said it because I couldn't even bare to picture his reaction in my mind, that alone was too much. It worked though, he hated me enough to never look my way again. It was all for his own good, I tried to remind myself that every second, but I was just sugarcoating bullshit. I was the only thing that had enough patience to handle him, the person he probably only trusted and there I went hitting him below the belt and calling him a "freak". I thought he would never forgive me and I still don't think he will.

So no one will ever understand how I feel at this moment. How hope somehow wiggled its way through my life and made it seem a whole lot brighter. I feel like I can conquer the world with this feeling alone. I'm kissing Tweek Tweak and I wanna scream like a flaming faggot at a Lady Gaga concert and I seriously could give less of a shit on how stupid that sounds. No one could ever understand...

"Holy shit!"

The chapped lips that made me feel so positive pulled back with a whoosh of air, the owner falls off his chair with a "GAH!" and a scream. The bliss I felt is now replaced with feeling like a complete idiot with my eyes clenched and my lips puckered out like I just ate a bad pickle. Then that feeling is replaced almost immediately with intense hatred and rage at whoever ruined this moment and I have a hunch on who exactly this said person was.

Clyde "Cockblock" Donovan.

Yes and he was living up to the potential of his middle name... very well might I add.

"I knew something was going to happen! I knew it!" I hear him getting closer to the table. I don't want to turn around and look at him, just the mere sight of him and I know I'll go ballistic and punch him in the man tit. "I come in and I see you two lip locking, what the actual fuck! Tweek, you're with Kenny! I never suspected that you'd do something so two-timing to him!" Now is my time to speak. Besides, Tweek looks like he just suffered too much shock to form words for the moment.

"They broke up, dip shit." I still look away from him. He gasps a bit too dramatically for my taste but it does make me think more about how a lot has happened in this one day...that's kind of weird.

"Why!" his voice raised in pitch. Another reason why I find Clyde so fucking annoying is that when he's pissed off or confused his voice's raises so high up that there's a point you start to question if that one testicle rumor is true or not. Ugh. "Please, for the love of all that is holy, don't tell me you broke it off for this ass wipe!" I can't see him but I know he's pointing at me; I'm the only ass wipe in the room. I could say something back but that would just make him raise his voice even more. Then it'll get so annoying that Token will come in here and I don't need Token yelling at us too. Token's scary when's he's mad. He's got this whole neck thing going on when he's pissed. It's freaky.

I sighed. "Actually he didn't choose either one of us." Clyde still wasn't pleased.

"Well then fuck! Why are you two snogging like two British nannies at a stag party! Just because they broke up doesn't mean it's all right for you to molest Tweek, Craig!"

"It was just a kiss, Clyde. Stop making a big deal." He snorts and I'd be lying if I said that kind of, sorta did not disgust me. No one likes to hear someone inhaling their mucus, it ain't right.

"I am not making a big deal!" he snorts again. Ugh...again. "Why did you make him break up with Kenny? They were doing fine until you came along!"

"I didn't make him."

"Well then what did? How are you going to convince me that this isn't all you're doing?"

"I don't know."

Tweek stares back and forth between Clyde and me, looking like a spazzy golden retriever watching an intense tennis match and praying a miracle happens. This is just too much pressure for him. Clyde's still ranting on and on about how much Kenny is better than me and quite honestly it's really making that murderous rage even stronger and I'm trying really hard not to start a murdering streak but a man can only take so much. So there we are just Tweek and me, taking Clyde's hysteric bantering like two kids that just got caught smoking behind the school dumpster (it's actually happened before). I didn't notice how hard I was gripping the chair until I actually broke off a piece –it was an accident, honest-. I let out a hiss, feeling a splinter go into my palm and warm liquid start to drip out. I looked down at what seemed to throb out of my hand and turned out to be blood. But that wasn't the worse thing... Tweek saw it too.

"AGH! Oh my god, you're bleeding buckets! You're going to die! Why did you do that!" he yells pointing at my hand. Yeah I got a cut but I'm not actually going to have to bring a pail out am I? Clyde stopped his fuming and starts freaking out along with Tweek.

"Oh my god! You better not bleed to death in my kitchen Craig! My mother will throw a bitch fit!" His voice starts to sound further off. "I'll get some bandages from the bathroom! I'll be right back! Tweek try not to let him rape you again why I'm gone! I mean it!" I flip him off with my uninjured hand right before I hear his footsteps leave the kitchen. I stare forward and notice that Tweek was still conscious. Tweek usually faints at the sight of blood so...how is he still standing upright right now holding my now blood covered hand?

He spoke so fast I'm surprise his tongue could keep up, "Man, I hope you don't get all infected from the wood! This chair doesn't look very clean! How are you able to break it! Jesus Christ you must be like some kind of super being to be able to break off wood! Holy shit, dude! Why didn't you tell me you had super strength! Oh god, what if the FBI wants to take you in and dissect you! They'll find out right away b-because that's what happened at Roswell with those aliens and stuff, they figure this shit beforehand and plan it all out to confuse the mass p-public because they can see the fucking future! They could be coming here any minute to kidnap you in the disguise of Jehovah Witness's and take you in their van! GAH!" He goes on and on, gripping my hand tighter which each crazy theory he sputters out. Though he is making it hurt even more I could honestly care less. His hair's all frazzled and covering his face but I can still see his eyes all huge and bug-eyed from all the stress beneath his bangs. When was the last time he got a haircut? Jeez...what had happened to him since I've been gone this whole time?

He's close to me again but he's too worried to care about that. I touch his face with my splinter-free hand, caressing his cheek and bringing his attention to me and away from my hand. The bags under his eyes still look so dark, resembling bruises almost. It makes me feel sad when he looks like such a train wreck like this.

"Why are you fussing so much?" he blinks. "You shouldn't care if I die from a little splinter." His eyebrows knit into an expression I can't really tell if he's cross or sad. He looks away from my face and back at my hand, his grip loosening a bit, finally noticing he was making it even redder. I try to study his face feeling curious about what was going through his mind. I honestly didn't suspect for what he said next. Not in a million years did I suspect what he said.

"I d-don't want to lose you." He whispers. "Not again." I stopped breathing for a bit just to digest it into my brain that he thought he lost me. Did he lose me? I thought he knew I would always be there for him.

My thumb stroked the skin on his cheek, feeling something wet start to cover it now. I didn't know what it was until another one came from his eye. I realized that...he was crying. Why is he crying? Did I do this? God, I hope I didn't do this. It still kills me either way if I hadn't or not.

"Tweek..." the name sounds so beautiful though it was a ridiculous name to give your child. He made it beautiful no matter how silly it sounded.

"Goddammit Craig I said NOT to rape him!"

Now entering: Clyde fucking "Cockblock" Donovan. Oh how his timing is always right will remain a mystery.

"Don't you ever listen? Am I going to have to buy a squirt bottle to spritz you with whenever you misbehave to teach you a lesson?" the sound of a plastic case hits the table and I see the little red cross on it, noticing it was the first-aid kit from the bathroom. Clyde sneers at me expecting me to bite back a comeback on how I wasn't a fucking cat and I didn't need to be spritz but it didn't come. Instead, I thanked him for being such a "big help" and told him to leave. He refuses because he's a stubborn douche boat like that.

"I'm staying right here whether you like it or not! It's my house-"

"Your parent's house." I corrected

"It doesn't matter! It's still my house, goddammit!" he pauses and I hear a shuffling from behind me. "Tweek, can you go outside with Token please."

Tweek arched an eyebrow seeming a bit baffled by Clyde's suddenly changed tone but in a matter of only seconds he nodded a response back rapidly, squeezing his way through and leaving the kitchen. He met my eyes one last time before joining Token in the living room area of the house and I hear more shuffling coming from Clyde. Clyde squeezes his way through and sits where Tweek sat not only moments ago, opening the first-aid box and pulling out some gauze and tweezers. I was about to say no to him getting anywhere near me with sharp objects but his face seemed serious, way more serious than I'm used to seeing him like. He wets the gauze with some disinfectant and motions me to give him my hand. Warily, I do so and before he does anything he takes a deep breath.

"This will hurt." I clenched my teeth and note the warning, preparing myself as the liquid on the gauze touched my wound. I bite down on my tongue as the alcohol burns and starts to numb my palm, feeling my muscles clench at the pain. He dabs it gently before finally getting the tweezers and pulling the splinters one by one onto a towel that lied on the table along with the kit. (Somewhere in the world Towelie was proud that Clyde remembered to use a towel). His face seems more expressionless than mine as he does this and I can't help to feel slightly confused myself. Why the sudden change?

"Why so cereal, Clyde?" he continues to pay all his attention to the splinters in my hand but he still speaks back in that soft, sturdy tone of voice that didn't sound at all like him. It sounded like my own voice and it was kind of scaring the shit out of me.

"Why are you all of a sudden trying to take him back?" he plucks out another splinter. "You didn't even bother to apologize and here you are being all Mr. Romantic." his eyes remain blank as he wipes the splinter on the towel. "Why are you doing this?"

Since when was he all close to Tweek like this? I don't remember him giving this much of a damn like this before. It kind of pisses me off.

"First of all," I let out a soft hiss as he pulls out a bigger splinter. "I'm not 'taking him back' as you put it. It's the opposite. I want him to take me back." He raises an eyebrow but still pays me no eye contact. "Second," I continue. "How can I apologize for something so horrible? A simple little apology wasn't going to solve anything. Apologies mean nothing. It's not like I can write him an 'I'm sorry' letter and expect him to take me back just like that." He takes out the final splinter. "I messed up big time so I had to suffer. No apologies can fix what I did." He puts the tweezers back on the table and his fingers grab the gauze he took out not to long ago, taking a roll of bandage along with it. He grabs my hand and places the gauze gently over my hand, peeling off some bandage to hold it over.

"You still didn't have to be a complete asshole to him." He says through his teeth as he bites off the end of the bandage. "You really did a number on him calling him a fucking freak after nearly beating the life out of him." A scoff comes from him while he rolls the bandage over the gauze. "You know... it was us that sat with him those three days in the hospital. Just me, Toke, and Kenny; we were there for him. I don't recall ever seeing you there." The last end of the bandages sticks to my skin; he gets up and closes the case of the first aid kit and throwing the towel in the trash next to us. I glare at him while he does this.

"What did you expect me to do? I couldn't just get up and go to the hospital, he would've freaked the fuck out and those doctors would try and put me in jail for disturbing him!" I get up now from my seat and follow him as he goes down the bathroom down the hall out of the kitchen. "And for the record I know what I did was wrong! I thought making him think I was an asshole would be what's best for him. He would stay away from me and he wouldn't ever get hurt again." Clyde puts the kit in the closest in the bathroom and leaves right away, closing the door behind him. I continue to follow him. "Clyde you've just got to understand...I know I messed up and I don't deserve a second chance. I've fucked up." He stops walking, leaving me to resume talking. "But he needs me as much as I need him. I'm the only one who can take care of him right, better than his own fucking parents, and he's the only who can just brighten my entire life by just existing. I have the patience and he has..." I can hear the blood throbbing in my ears as the pressure in my head builds up. I'm sounding really corny right now and I know Clyde will never let me live it down but I need him to see what effect that the kid has on me.

"Well, he has my heart, Clyde." Clyde turns around and this weird looking smile is on his face. He's crying buckets of course; he was always an addict for dramatic, cheesy speeches like I just gave right now. What a dweeb.

"Craig, I know how much he means to you..." he clenches the ends of his sleeves, sniffling and inhaling his mucus. Nasty. "I've known that since forever. It's just...what you did, how you hurt him...you can't EVER let that happen again." I stare at him. He wipes the tears away from his face and he tries to bring back that serious face he had before but it's not as effective. "I know that you think he only had you but in honesty he has all of us to help him out. I mean, he's fine now isn't he?"

I shake my head, "Have you honestly asked him if he's okay? Have you even seen him up close? He's a mess." He rolls his eyes at this. "It's true! You don't even have to ask! Just look at him, goddammit! I'm not making it up!"

"Okay, chill out." He rests his hand on my shoulder but I shrug it off. "I believe you. He does look a bit worn out lately but he went through a hard time. Trust me, if it weren't for Kenny," I cringe at his name. "-he'd be in a lot worse of a state then he is in now."

"Yeah I'll believe that when hell freezes over."

Ding, dong

Clyde's eyes darken and jaw clenches at the sound of the doorbell.

"I'll get it!" Token's voice shouts out from the living room on the other side of the kitchen. Clyde breathes out a sigh of relief. Seriously... is he that lazy that he can't even answer the fucking door, Jesus Christ.

"Craig, I want you to understand something yourself," Clyde renews the conversation. "If you honestly love Tweek let him go. Give him a chance to be happy with Kenny." The sound of the door jingling open is heard from the living room.

"But what if he gets AID's? The hoesky ain't clean and we all know that."

"Oh my god..." Token's voice is still heard from the living room. A loud "GAH!" is heard and the sound of something falling over comes after it. Clyde and I turn our heads and head towards the kitchen exit to the living room to see what was going on. Token covered the door with his body so whoever was on the other side we couldn't see but we definitely could hear Token whispering to the unknown house guest. Where did Tweek go?...

"Look man, seriously this isn't a good idea."

"Please just let me talk to him."

"Now's not the time."

"I'm begging you man."

The voice sunk in and I knew who was on the other side of that door. Clyde must've realized too because he held me back immediately with his arm before I could do anything.

Oh fuck, did God hate me...God really hated me.

Bleh, what a bad way to end a chapter OTL

I'm really starting to not like this story. All the characters personalities are wack and totally OOC. I hate how I made everyone look like lovesick bastards 8| Thank goodness it's almost done.

Ugh.

I need to start a new project...

R&R

(Points are seven for Creek and six for Twenny; put your votes in fast because the story's gonna end soon. Only a couple more chapters left.)