I DO NOT OWN SOUTH PARK
I watched Frozen over the weekend, and I fucking love it! So I've just been imagining a Frozen/South Park crossover like;
Stan: Craig! Craig! Do you wanna build a hoe-man?
Craig: We can call it HOlaf.
Like all dangerous addictions, Craig Tucker only needed one small dose to become hooked. And like all dangerous addictions, it started out fairly innocent.
Craig was a pity case at best. He fit right into the archetype of abused and neglected children. He was full of bitter rage, resentment, sadness, and a yearning for human affection. His father never outright hit him, but he was a gruff man who got especially loud and scary at the indecent time of two in the morning, when he'd be stumbling back from the bar, a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand. His mother preferred to pretend he didn't exist. He was a problematic child, and Craig had silently agreed that if he ever had a son like himself he'd probably just decide to ignore him, too.
Craig had taken good care of a guinea pig once. But guinea pigs only live for so long; usually a lot less longer than humans. His parents refused him another guinea pig or even a bird or mouse, so Craig was on his own once again.
Enter Tweek Tweak.
Tweek was as difficult and insufferable of a child as Craig Tucker, with his loud invoulentary outbursts and paranoia that could change to irrational and dangerous rage like that. He never stopped; always twitching, talking, or fighting some imaginary demon.
Of course, none of this was primarily his fault. Behind their masks of calmness and their soft-spoken words, the Tweaks' were even more terrified of the world than their son. At the very young age of three, Tweek was subjected to knowledge of murder, and rape, and terrorism, and danger. His parents forced caffeinated drinks down his throat to make sure he'd be awake and alert should anything go wrong. They forced him to be dependant on the instability and perpetually fearful atmosphere of their home. Because, deep down, they knew that they'd have to let him go one day. And they couldn't cope with letting their only son into the merciless world. They moulded him so that he'd never want to leave. So they'd always be able to hold on to their baby boy with both hands.
Craig and Tweek were polar opposites. One forced to neglection and independence. One forced to paranoia and dependence.
With that in mind, it was no surprise to anyone that they'd find a happy medium within each other.
Craig's independent and calm nature subdued Tweek's needy and wild one. And Tweek's dependence for Craig and undying love was what made Craig feel like he had a purpose in the unworthy earth he had been born on. Craig began to take care of the boy- defending him from bullies, making him coffee, anything he needed.
But Craig was just as paranoid as Tweek was. He was downright terrified of losing his Tweek. The Tweek that would need him over all else. In a way, he had become a double of Tweek's parents. If he couldn't take care of Tweek, then he was useless. So Craig took the only logical step forward in his predicament.
He mixed in antifreeze with Tweek's coffee, and watched the boy drink it.
"This tastes, ngh, weird," Tweek managed out between twisting up his face in disgust. Craig couldn't help but gush at how perfectly adorable his boyfriend was. He put an arm around Tweek's shoulders and pouted.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I suck at making coffee, don't I?" Craig murmured.
"W-what? N-no! I mean-," Tweek took a long breath to collect himself and forced himself to down another sip. "It's, ngh, great, Craig," Tweek lied, trying to smile.
Not more than a few hours later, Tweek was sprawled out on the dirty lunchroom floor, vomiting up his guts. Craig smiled pleasantly and carried Tweek to the nurses room, very aware that Tweek was shivering and clutching on to his coat for warmth. Craig liked that. Craig liked that a whole lot. He gently kissed Tweek on the forehead and sat with him in the nurses office while Tweek choked out rants of conspiracies and gnomes and assassins.
For a long while, that worked well for Craig. He mixed in the antifreeze with Tweek's coffee once every month. He wondered breifly how much a frail kid like Tweek would be able to take the poison, but didn't really care. All he knew was that once every month, he'd be able to walk Tweek to the nurse's office and wrap the small boy up in his coat. Once every month, Tweek absolutely needed Craig to be there for him.
But Craig grew insatiable to the feeling of having someone need him. Months turned to weeks, which turned to every other day, which eventually turned to every day. And no sooner had Craig been granted a chance to bask in his accomplishment had he landed Tweek in the emergency room in Hell's Pass hospital. Tweek wasn't allowed to have any visitors. And without being able to see Tweek, Craig went crazy. His thoughts manifested, and soon, he was no longer worrying about Tweek.
He was devising more ways to keep Tweek with him forever.
The day Tweek got out of the hospital, Craig gave him the biggest hug he could.
"I was so worried, Tweek! What did they say happened?" Craig asked, eyes wide as he buried his nose into Tweek's neck. Tweek shuddered, but didn't make any move to resist.
"They, hng, said I was ingesting poison!" Tweek yelled out, shaking like a leaf. "Gah! Poison, Craig!"
"I know, I know," Craig muttered soothingly, rubbing circles into Tweek's back. Tweek slumped into Craig's chest and sighed in content.
"I h-had to get my stomach, ngh, pumped! Arabian spies! They're out to get me!"
"Yeah, uh-huh. I know, buddy. C'mon. Let's go home, yeah?"
"O-okay," he replied, letting Craig scoop him up and carry him home.
Not more than three months later, the inseparable pair had finally moved out. Craig had managed to convince Tweek that college was far to much pressure, so while Craig went to get his degree, Tweek was usually left alone at their apartment to do what he wished. Things were starting to fall back into some sense of normality, and Tweek liked that. He went out sometimes to drink with Kenny, or to play videogames with Kyle and Stan. He worked at the on-campus cafe. Life was good.
But Craig was restless.
"You're late," he said, eyeing Tweek. The blonde's goofy grin dropped immediately.
"Sorry, Craig. I, ngh, went out w-with Stan and Kyle," Tweek apologized, shrugging and kicking off his boots. He crawled over to where Craig sat on their ugly teal couch and snuggled into him.
"Don't do it again," Craig snapped.
"Huh?" Tweek shot up. "You don't own me, Craig. I-"
"Well maybe I should. You're helpless. You'll get hurt. Raped. Killed, maybe," Craig snarled, goading Tweek into his blind paranoid rage. It worked.
"I- urk! Out to get me! I hate them! Agh! Craig!" Tweek burst out, clutching his forehead and rubbing his temples. He plucked up a pillow from the couch and hurled it across the room. There was a shrill cracking sound as a vase crashed against the ground. Tweek was always like this. He'd get scared, then pissed, then break something. A repeating cycle that was so predictable, a child could memorize it.
"C'mere. I can make it better," Craig beckoned Tweek over to him. Tweek swung around, fuming as he sat on the couch and clenched his fists. "Close your eyes and keep your tongue in your mouth."
Tweek did as he was told, feeling Craig lift up his left leg. He waited for a while before- CRACK.
Tweek screamed loud, pain searing his whole leg. His eyes shot open and he wildly glared at Craig, who was sitting on the floor and staring at his leg in content. Tweek couldn't move without feeling the same mind-numbing pain that made him screech.
"Y-you! You broke it!" Tweek screamed between gasps and tears.
"C'mon, Tweekie. Let's put you to bed. You're tired," Craig whispered softly, standing up to ruffle Tweek's hair and kiss his forehead.
"I... I am?" the blond blinked, as if confused. "I am," he said, more sure of himself.
"I'll carry you."
Things only seemed to escalate from there. Craig would do everything and anything in his power to keep Tweek hidden from the world, and poor Tweek was too hypnotized by love that he allowed Craig to work with his mind like play-doh. All to one culminating point where Kenny had just happened to drop by the apartment that was untouched by anyone else except the two lovers for nearly two years.
"Hey, Craig, I just came by to drop of your laptop," Kenny shouted, walking in and setting the laptop on the desk. "I didn't jack off to porn, I promise! I mean, not much at least," Kenny snickered.
"... Kenny?" Kenny whipped his head around to see a small boy that looked vaguely like Tweek. He had the same shock-blond hair, the same huge green eyes, and the same scratchy voice.
Except he was leaning on the walls like he couldn't walk without their support, and he looked way more roughed up than Kenny had remembered him looking. His skin was sheet-white, and his eyes were dull. Bandages bound his fingers together, and a bone jutted out of his leg where it certainly shouldn't have. When he spoke, Kenny could see thick red slits lining the roof of his mouth.
"Tweek! What the hell happened to you, man?" Kenny asked, eyes darting around the house. Was Craig home? Was this Craig's fault?
"Huh? I don't... I, ngh, don't understand?" It was a question. Kenny could see confusion etched in Tweek's face as if he were saying, 'Why don't I understand?'.
"You're... Pretty fucked up," Kenny whispered, edging forward and gently laying his hands on Tweek's shoulders. Tweek screamed and flew back, landing on his leg and screeching as pain shot back up the unfixed wound. He breathed heavily and glared up at Kenny defiantly.
"What the hell?!" he snarled.
"Did Craig hurt you?" Kenny asked tentatively. He figured if Tweek got angry and violent like he usually did, he'd probably hurt himself again.
"No," Kenny sighed, relieved. "He's protecting me." Kenny stopped mid-sigh and looked up in confusion.
"What do you mean?"
Tweek frowned. "What you would, ngh, t-think I'd mean."
"What happened to your fingers?" Kenny asked softly, pointing to the tightly bound bandages on Tweek's hands.
"Mouse traps. I was calling m-mom and Craig told me that I shouldn't associate, ngh, with her in case it was an impersonator, and stupid, stupid, STUPID!" Tweek screamed the last bit, smashing his head against the wall. He growled animalistically, squeezing his bound fingers and yelping. "Phones are bad. Bad people can steal you, just like that. All they need is some numbers. Oh god. Craig? Craig!"
Alarmed, Kenny tried shushing Tweek by leaning over and kissing his forehead. He didn't love Tweek, but he did like him enough to not anger the guy that messed him up so much. Tweek stopped, his yells reduced to a whimper.
"Calm down, Tweek. I'm going to get you out of here." Kenny snapped, forcing his hands under Tweek and lifting the weak boy up with ease. He was way too light. He was only skin and nerves stretched over bones. Tweek panicked, screaming and trying his best to get Kenny to let go of him.
"Let me go, Kenny! Let. Me. Go!" Tweek roared.
"How long until Craig gets home?" Kenny snapped.
"Four Hours," Tweek said curtly.
"Then we've got four hours to get as far away as possible. Don't worry, Tweek. I'll make you all better."