AN: Why, hello there. I am... Cynical B. Itch. I upload for Nightie (and write stuff, if you want to check me out XD,) but she writes A SEQUEL TO IGNORANCE AND SILENCE. *sigh* Makes me happy. You know what makes her happy? Reviews. Y'all should review, too.
Disclaimer: I'm not convinced this is necessary. I mean, do you think Matt and Trey come trolling on this site, looking for stories without disclaimers so that they can sue us? Meh.
"I'll be coming back this Friday."
The words, though he had said them himself, sent tremors through him, even now when the day was finally upon him. Craig tapped the steering wheel, impatient and if he could admit it to himself...slightly fearful.
He didn't believe it when Tweek had called him. He simply couldn't. After all that had happened, after all the years of being silent and watching Tweek curse him and hate him, it seemed impossible that it was his voice on the other end of the line, hesitantly talking to him like he'd dreamed about for years.
"Craig? ...i-it's me. Tweek."
For a second, he'd thought he was dreaming. This couldn't be real. Tweek? Calling him on the phone? No...it wasn't real. But even if it was a dream, it couldn't stop his heart from freezing, all the breath in his body halting. That voice...it sounded just like him, exactly like him...he couldn't let a wonderful dream like this pass him by.
But all he could get out was a simple, "Hey." He couldn't think of anything else; the wonder filled his mouth with lead and left it almost useless.
"H-hi..." There was a pause, almost like a hesitation. "Ngh, is th-this really Craig?"
The raven cradled the phone like it was a tender newborn, a little smile on his lips. He was sure to hate all of this when he woke up, but right now, all he could do was thank God for letting him have it. "Yeah."
"I...I g-got your note." Came the nervous voice, tinged with just the tiniest amount of shyness.
Of course. In his dream, everything was perfect; Tweek would have found his note and believed it, and he would like him back. But he wasn't sure if this would become some sort of nightmare, like it usually did, and he asked cautiously, "Did you...like it?"
There was something like a relieved sigh, and he could almost see Tweek's head nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I -ngh- d-did."
The little twitches in his voice made Craig pause. Not even his dreams could mimic that so perfectly...he finally understood that this wasn't a dream, that Tweek was really on the phone with him, and he smiled more, settling back on the bed he sat on and letting a warmth flow through his limbs, as a sigh rippled from his open mouth.
"That's good." He breathed. "That's very good."
Three months in a new town, new part-time job, new school, new people made Craig feel like being home-schooled for the rest of his life. He didn't like such a big change; he'd lived all his life in South Park, how could he just up and move to a new city like it was nothing? The raven didn't know anybody, and to be honest, he didn't really want to. It was too much effort to learn some kid's name, just for the sake of companionship, and he spent all of his time inside in his room, pacing or just laying on his bed, wondering what to do in another city full of nothing.
Well, maybe this city wasn't so different. He never really did anything in South Park either. He was just...there.
And so he just lay on his bed and let it all pass him by. One city or another...nothing changed much at all...
But the one thing he could never forget, or change, was Tweek. Three months and the wound he left in him was still aching and raw. He wished they had parted on better terms, but he knew it wouldn't have happened. Tweek hated him too much for their parting to be anything more than spats and curses. He wondered if Tweek had read his final note.
He wondered if he'd thrown it away.
He wondered if he believed it.
Craig knew it wasn't healthy to dwell on it, but he couldn't help it. He had loved Tweek for years, given him presents and flowers in secret and watched him take them in with a smile and then turn around to scowl and hiss at him in anger when he got too close. He was in much too deep to just forget Tweek. He didn't think he ever would.
In a bout of foolishness, he had scrawled his phone number on the back of the last note—or letter, more like—just to let out his last bit of hope. It was impulsive; right before he'd put it in his locker that night he'd been struck by the hopeful urge, digging in his pockets for a blue pen he'd thankfully found and scribbling down his number. It was stupid, he knew. Tweek would never call him. He hated him. He probably did burn that note.
Craig wondered if he'd laughed at his sad attempt to keep in contact.
Still though, the hope stayed with him. Day after day, he kept his cell phone at ready, waiting, willing it to ring and magically be Tweek on the other line. He had dreams, where the phone did ring and the other was there, talking to him lovingly...dreams that always ended in him waking up, feeling despondent and lost. As the days went by, he lost hope...and tried to forget about the one person he'd dreamed of for years.
There was a brunet in one of his new classes, who sat near him...he didn't look anything like Tweek, but his eyes were almost the same shade of brilliant emerald, and his heart thudded at seeing them. He began to toy with the idea of finding someone else.
And when those three months finally passed, Craig had almost tricked himself into thinking that it was better off if he just forgot the small, slender, twitching blond that made his stomach lurch and pretend those years in South Park had never happened. The rest of his family was moving on, why shouldn't he?
Until his phone rang one afternoon when he lay in bed doing nothing, and he'd picked it up out of habit and answered.
"Craig? ...i-it's me. Tweek."
Those words reminded him of the fact that he could never, ever let go of Tweek so easily.
They talked for a while. Slow, hesitant remarks, each testing the waters with each other. Craig had to go, they hung up, but not before the raven asked if he could call him again. Desperately hopeful on the inside, never letting it show on the outside. He wanted Tweek to say yes.
The reply was soft, a whisper Craig barely caught over the phone.
"...if you w-want."
And oh, did Craig want to.
They called each other over the next few weeks, and occasionally sent text messages. Always simple, harmless conversations. How school was going, the homework they had, what they did that day. Craig never associated with anyone back in South Park either, so he never asked about anyone else. Tweek never mentioned Craig's gifts again, or the fact that the raven had been his secret admirer. Craig, for his part, never asked why Tweek had suddenly changed his mind and called him.
No stress. No awkward speeches. Their conversations were safe that way.
School ended in two months and then summer vacation was upon them, and they were both free to do what they wanted without anything else tying them down in the day. And then Craig casually dropped those words during a simple conversation.
"I'll be coming back this Friday."
He had a driver's license, he had his dad's old car, which was now his, seeing as the man had gotten a new one. No reason not to. Tweek had been silent.
"Why?" He finally asked.
"Just feel like it." The big moment. "You gonna be doing anything?"
"N-no..."
"Wanna...hang out for a bit?" Craig threw out that little bit of his heart, casually, nonchalantly, as if he didn't care either way. Not like it was the only reason he was going to make a three hour drive back there.
Tweek's answer was just as casual, just as nonchalant. Like this wasn't a test of their tenuous friendship right now...if they could even call it that. "Sure, I-I guess." A pause. "...ngh, wh-where're you gonna b-be at?"
Craig thought for a second. "In front of the park. At three. Afternoon."
"...okay."
"Alright."
He finally passed the familiar town's city limits and rove forward, tapping fingers absently on the steering wheel. The radio played softly in the background, and Craig blew out a long breath, looking sideways at the passenger seat. He felt no nostalgia, no restless longing to live here again. Guess he didn't care either way.
All he felt was the flicker of worry...and stirrings of hope.
He drove down the familiar streets, driving to the park like he had done it a million times before. The raven parked the car, and turned off the ignition, getting out of the vehicle. He didn't think he could wait too long, being cooped up in that thing anymore.
Craig leaned against the side of the car, and waited, glancing toward a package that waited on the passenger seat, and couldn't resist; he reached in and grabbed it gently, returning to lean against the car. He felt more hopeful than he had in a very long, long while, and a restless longing did fill him, but not for the town. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the package in his hands.
He couldn't wait to see Tweek again.