Here I go, starting a new story. This is gonna be a long one, folks! I hope you'll join me on this journey. This plot is something I've wanted to get out there for quite a while. Hope you enjoy this opening chapter and please review if you'd like me to continue.
I do not own South Park. Kudos to Matt and Trey.

Also, Cryde.

Chapter One

It's hard to fit a full, uninterrupted night's sleep into a busy schedule. The sun slowly intrudes upon the lives of the half-rested and groggy, clawing mercilessly at their eye sockets. Its partner in crime, a ringing device from the depths of hell itself.

Clyde rolled over, slamming his hand blindly in the direction of the unwholesome noise, grunting as he missed and knocked the clock onto his carpeted floor. He flung his arms into the air, stretching before blinking a few times and glaring down at the muffled alarm. It was far too early judging by the lack of sound coming from the rooms surrounding his own of the small, two-bedroomed apartment.

After putting the screeching abomination out of its misery, which was supposed to wake him up, not cause his eardrums to rupture, he made his way into the kitchen. He looked around but there was no sign of company. Clyde sighed as he realised he'd be spending the morning alone, which wasn't too bad, he just hadn't spent any time with his father in a while. He was always working or visiting someone. Either way, Clyde spent the majority of his time at home alone.

Reaching for a box of unopened cereal, Clyde noticed a note on the counter, his father's handwriting rushed and almost illegible. "Clyde," it read, "I know it's Saturday but I have to take care of some business at the store. See you at dinner. Check the answer machine, there's a message for you. Don't make any rash decisions until I get home. Dad." Clyde frowned, setting the box aside as he reread the note. A message? And what did he mean by "rash decisions"? He shrugged before wandering over to the phone.

Clyde hadn't expected anything other than what the note said. Well, the explanation to his father's absence anyway. The rest of it simply made him curious. No one ever called him on the house phone, or his cell for that matter. He hesitantly pressed the voice mail button and waited as a robotic female voice explained that he had one read message. He scratched the back of his neck as a loud beep filled the room.

"Hey, man. Uh, Clyde, I mean. It's Token.'" Clyde's jaw fell open at the sound of the aged yet very familiar voice. "It's been a long time since we had a real conversation, huh? Yeah, sorry about that. But, hey! School's almost over! Kinda scary if you think about it. Anyway, I was thinking... well, more like hoping, if you don't already have plans this vacation, we could hang out or something. You could come here. I mean, the guys want to see you, we all do. I'd... I'd come there but I thought there would be more of a connection, for you, here. Memories and crap, you know? Seriously..." Token laughed lightly into the earpiece."Clyde, you can't keep putting this off. We need to party, dude! So, call me back, man. Flying you out here wouldn't be a huge deal. Think about it.' Another beep sounded as Clyde reached out to end the service.

'Shit,' he breathed, slumping against the couch. It was too early for him to process all that he'd heard. He massaged his forehead as he frowned, wondering what to make of the abrupt message, considering what it asked of him. It wasn't that the idea didn't sound appealing. It wasn't even the inconvenience of travelling back to the town in which he'd spent the majority of his life. No, in fact, he wouldn't have minded feeling the cold mountain air nipping at his exposed skin again. It was just downright bad timing. Token hadn't hit the nail on the head or anything. He wasn't putting anything off and he didn't have plans per se...

He needed a job. He couldn't work at his dad's shoe store forever. Well, he could but he didn't want to. But going back to... Colorado? No, that was inconvenient. At least he assumed it was. He glanced down at the note he was still clutching in his left hand. Rash decisions... so, his dad knew of his former bro's suggestion. At least that would make it easier to discuss if he did... wait no. Was he really considering this? South Park held some bad memories for him, a mix of people, places and events which he didn't particularly want to cross paths with again. But... something about Token's voice made the corner of his mouth tug upwards into a smirk. After all this time, the boy had said it himself, his old friends wanted to see him. He'd be lying to himself if he wasn't a little eager to see the faces he grew up and shared so much with.

It had been seven years since the Donovans, or what was left of them, moved away from the small mountain town. After his mother's untimely death, Clyde's father decided it would be best if they started anew. A fresh out look on life with a less claustrophobic atmosphere. Of course Clyde hated the idea at first. He had everything he could ask for there. While he missed his mom greatly, he liked his school, friends and everything that surrounded him. He didn't understand why they couldn't just move houses or move to Denver if they were going to leave South Park entirely. They ended up residing in Florida and taking the shoe store along with them. Well, expanding it more like. His sister stayed in South Park and took over the roll of manager of his father's former business.

Clyde hated it at first. The heat was unbearable and unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Nobody dressed or spoke or ate the same as they did back home. Homesickness quickly became a familiar feeling and although, in time, he got used to his new life, it never really felt right. Something was missing and although he'd have liked to say it it was his friends, he knew it was something more.

'South Park,' he mumbled to himself as he finally got up to make himself some breakfast. Clyde was warming up to the idea but something still scared him about Token's message. Why, after all these months, was the guy bothering to contact him? It didn't make much sense at all. The last time they had spoken, it was somewhat awkward and very short-lived. They had absolutely nothing to discuss. It was all small talk and neither of them seemed eager to go into any great detail about their lives. Token seemed caught up in chicks, parties and football, go figure. Clyde actually smiled despite being unfazed with the lifestyle. If the circumstances had been different, he would have probably been right there with him, his wing man and fellow jock douchebag. Not that Token was a douche but Clyde could name a few assholes who fitted the same description hobby-wise.

The day seemed to drag. No matter how hard Clyde tried to forget about the possibility of visiting his childhood town, he just couldn't. He missed the way everyone in South Park seemed so dependent on one another, or at least knew everything about their neighbours. They were willing to help each other out and any little squabble seemed to fizzle out over time. It wasn't like that where he lived. He didn't know who lived in the apartment next to his own, let alone ever conversed with them. The only person he had was his father and while they were close, he felt kind of lonely. Oh, Clyde had friends, he'd never been an outcast, in fact, he'd always been rather popular. His friendships just didn't compare to the ones in his old life. The bond he'd had with Token and the guys. Yeah, he missed that. They had their own little gang. He remembered that Tweek kid who had some kind of caffeine-induced tick and Kevin Stoley, another dude he had a lot in common with. Then there was Craig Tucker, boy, did they have a history. They'd been through a lot together. Life was never as exciting since he'd moved away. No crazy adventures or monsters trying to destroy the town. It all seemed so far away. A part of him wondered whether or not it had all been in his head, like some part of his immature imagination which got a little out of control far too often.

Those were the days, he thought to himself as he heard the faint click from the door. He stood up to greet his father, sighing in contentment with his thoughts. Then he looked down at himself, his clothes covered with creases and the same attire he'd had on the day before. He felt kind of ashamed that he'd done nothing but sit on his butt all day, playing video games and eating.

'Hey, dad,' Clyde called out, watching his father struggle with a box, probably full of outdated shoes, before taking them from him and setting them on the table.

'Thanks,' Mr Donovan puffed, closing the door behind him. He looked exhausted, his glasses crooked and hair tousled. 'It's been a long day,' he mumbled, slipping his jacket off slowly as though his joints ached. Clyde frowned. He suddenly felt guilty that he never offered to take extra shifts at the weekend and only complied if his father directly asked for help.

'You need to employ more people,' he commented, heading over to the kitchen area to make some coffee.

'No,' his dad disagreed, shaking his head before smiling. 'What I need is a partner. What d'ya say, son? You're almost done with school.'

Clyde hesitated. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint the man. He looked away, watching the dark water swirl as he stirred it into the grounds. It was hypnotic.

'Clyde?'

'Oh,' he replied, knocked from his momentary daze. 'S-sure, dad... but, there 're some things I need to think about and-'

'I understand,' Mr Donovan interrupted. His face grew sincere as Clyde warily handed him a steaming cup of black coffee. 'Look, if you feel like you have to go back out there, it's fine.' He turned away, sipping the scolding mixture. He walked over to the table and pushed the heavy box towards Clyde who stood at the opposite end with a worried expression. He was at a crossroads. The whole situation had creeped up on him so goddamn quickly, he didn't know what to think. He had to go about this logically.

'If you need me here, I won't go,' he added, scared that his dad's acceptance was a façade to save an argument. Besides, Clyde was eighteen and old enough to make his own decisions and his father knew that.

Mr Donovan stared at his son for a moment before flicking his eyes down to the box and nodded for Clyde to look inside. The boy reached out slowly without questioning the signal and took a hold of the box lid before prying the cardboard open. Apparently it wasn't unwanted shoes as he'd first anticipated. He studied the contents briefly before focusing back on his dad.

'Where did you get this?'

The box was filled to the brim with photographs and various old-looking frames. Clyde wasn't stupid and he didn't need to look closer to know that they were pictures of their old life. His dad had been a big photographer in his spare time, taking pictures of wildlife as well as their family and friends. Since they'd moved, the man had never really had the time to continue his old hobby where he left off. The result? An old dusty box full of memories.

'Downstairs,' his father sighed, a guilty expression washing over his features. Clyde raised an eyebrow questioningly. 'Storage,' he confirmed, referring to the closet to the side of the apartment block. Clyde always assumed it was used to keep bikes or old tires and didn't think they kept anything down there. 'I put it in there when we first moved in.' Well, that explained the dust. 'I thought it was for the best.'

Apparently his father had thought more about Token's message than he'd assumed. Clyde wanted to question the action further but decided against it. It was a tough time for his dad, leaving everything he knew behind, he understood that. He reached out and lifted an empty frame which sat on top. The first few photographs were pictures of the sky, sun rises, sets and night skies filled with bright, clear stars. The next was... 'Stark's Pond,' Clyde chuckled, grazing his finger over the shimmering water. 'Man,' he added quietly, 'This brings back memories.'

'Well,' his father said with a proud smirk as he stared across at his son's surprised exterior. 'You can see it in the flesh in a few weeks.'

Clyde glanced up quickly, a sudden glimmer in his eyes. He was filled with a kind of emotion he'd never experienced before, nostalgia and... something he couldn't quite grasp. So, it was really happening. He couldn't quite process that yet.

'Can I...?' He began, already hauling the box to the other side of the room and fell onto the couch, noticing faded writing on the side of the box. He lifted the flap of cardboard out of the way and looked closer. "Happy Birthday, Clyde," It said on it. He snorted in amusement, assuming it was from a childhood birthday party but before he could dismiss it, his father cleared his throat.

'Yeah, I was, um,' he faltered, joining his son but perching slowly on an armchair. 'I was going to give this to you when you turned twelve, if, you know, you still missed everything.'

'So why didn't you?' He asked abruptly. Of course he still missed South Park at that age. They'd only left a few months before his birthday and he remembered still yearning for their old life well into his second year there.

His father exhaled again. 'I don't know, I suppose it was more my state of mind rather than than yours. I didn't want to look at them so I couldn't face it.' Clyde's expression softened at the explanation. It was weird. Since losing his mom, he'd gained a respect for his father that made him unable to get angry at him. He guessed it was because he appreciated how strong he'd stayed and continued to provide for both of them, no matter how much of a handle Clyde had been beforehand. He nodded coyly.

Turning his attention back to the box, he rummaged around blindly, picking a developed piece at random. He turned over the photograph slowly in anticipation. He honestly didn't mind whether it made him happy or sad, either way it was a part of his life which he didn't want to hide from. The first thing he recognised was Token, his skin tone contrasting against not only the people around him but the snow in the background, covering a grassy hill. The boy's expression was goofy, as was his own, he noticed, as his eyes travelled to the right. Clyde smiled. They couldn't have been older than eight or nine. A chill coursed down his spine as the cold air from the image leached out and surrounded him. He could almost smell the crisp mountain air through the stuffiness of the apartment.

His eyes then travelled to the right of his youthful self and stilled as he reached another figure. Something inside his chest made him stop breathing for a second. He recognised the other boy, of course he did, but he got an entirely different feeling from him than he did with Token. Token was his friend, after all this time there was a silent connection which felt warm and welcoming. The other boy, however, scared him. His bland expression and distance from the other two was kind of unnerving. He looked like a ghost, silently watching them. It didn't make sense. Craig Tucker had been his friend, just like Token and Kevin but the way he carried himself wasn't... normal. At the time, the boy was just one of his bros... now, he threw questions at Clyde, one after the other until he could no longer look at the picture. He pushed it back into the box, inhaling sharply as though he'd been released from a tight grip.

'Everything okay?'

'Uh, yeah,' Clyde responded, having forgotten about his father's presence. He blinked in confusion. While he'd been aware that Craig was always the kid with little to no emotion and an asshole during the best of times, he'd considered him a best friend. He knew there was more to the boy than what first impressions suggested. Kids were scared of Craig. He flipped people off and retorted bluntly in an extremely monotone voice. As Clyde recalled, the boy was downright badass. He'd been the leader of their goddamn gang, as people referred to it. At the end of the day, their little group was pretty cool and Craig was the person who made it so. Not that he and Token weren't compared to the same standard, they were just more... "jock". He wondered if Craig still lived in South Park. He made a mental note to ask Token.

'Thanks for showing me these, dad,' Clyde finally said after looking at several photos of their whole family; his mom, dad, sister, their old dog Rex and himself as a baby. He'd welled up a few awkward times but put a brave face on for the man watching intently. He'd be lying if said he wouldn't have preferred to stay where the centre of their world had evolved into the perfection which were these pictures but he also admired what his father had created. They did just fine by themselves.

…

A loud cough erupted from the corner of the room, breaking the intense silence.

'Alright!' A blond kid yelled in annoyance, hearing the sarcasm behind the impatient sound. 'I... call your five bucks and,' he looked around, smirking at the awaiting crowd, their faces matching the tense atmosphere. They were really serious about this. '...raise you ten.' Someone hissed his name worriedly but was quickly hushed by another.

Everyone held their breath, surprised that he'd be so daring. Token grinned. He wasn't buying it. 'Fine,' he agreed, turning his cards over and pushing them further towards the middle of the table, exposing them for everyone to see. 'Dude,' someone breathed. Token sat back, folding his arms across his chest triumphantly. His opponent swallowed, his friends groaning as they peeked at his hand. He slowly revealed his cards, before jumping out of his seat, Token staring up at him. He held out his palm nonchalantly, awaiting payment.

'Too bad I'm broke!' And the boy was out of his seat in lightening speed, heading for the door.

Token followed suit, clenching his fists together. 'McCormick!' He growled angrily but before he could chase the fiend, something caught his attention. A ringing filled the room and he glanced around, wondering whose phone it was. Suddenly he realised it was his own and reached into his pocket. His face lit up at the sight of the caller ID. He didn't think, in a million years, that he'd get a reply. 'Hold on, guys,' he murmured before disappearing into the hall. Everyone looked at each other in confusion. Kenny slid back into the living room slyly by pushing his back dramatically against the wall as Token passed him cheerfully.

'Why ain't I dead?' He questioned aloud, watching Token depart. Everyone shrugged, wondering what on earth had lifted Token's righteous indignation. Kenny then shrugged too and reached out to pocket the little money he'd actually sacrificed.