A/N; So, uh, I can't remember if I wanted to say anything here and I have no notes scribbled over my planning book for this. Enjoy?

Let me know if there are mistakes, etc :)

South Park (c) Matt + Trey

Craig awoke in complete darkness, unable to tell the time. He felt as if he'd slept for hours and hours, but it seemed as though only seconds had passed since earlier events, the details still crisp and clear-cut in his mind's eye, fading a little at the edges where his mind still insisted it was all just a bad dream.

He patted his hand onto his bedside table, hunting out his mobile phone to check the time, or to use as a torch for reading his watch. He was very aware of his arm stretching out into the open, empty darkness. His eyes had begun to adjust to the lack of light, and he could just make out his arm moving about. He shivered a little from the cold, and the feeling of betraying the darkness by daring to venture out from the protection of his duvet cocoon.

His hand was left tingling with disappointment as there was a lack of phone on the table, and he dreaded leaning over to look, until he realised that he'd gone to bed without changing into his pyjamas and so had left his phone in the front pocket of his jeans.

Pulling the phone out he picked the easiest route and checked the time on the screen. He rolled his eyes when the phone claimed it was seven in the morning. He must've taken the battery out at some point and not corrected the time. The date was still stuck on the 24th, though, instead of falling to its default of the first of January, 2000.

He went for plan b and checked his watch, but that gave much the same result. He frowned a little, trying to work out how little time had passed, when he realised that the first spirit wouldn't arrive until midnight, if at all. He had a good five hours to play around with. He laid his phone down on the table and contemplated the blackness surrounding him.

Maybe he could convince the ghosts he wasn't as bad as they all made him out to be. He considered going out and…. Well, spreading the joy, or something. Like feeding pigeons (only there wouldn't really be any out at this time) or finding a soup kitchen (but that would be really dangerous, he could easily get stabbed by some madman) or maybe he could even buy his family some presents (thinking about it, he really didn't have any money spare at the moment, he'd only just arranged it all into his saving accounts, and he had to keep the money in his bank accounts safe in case something went wrong. He'd write a note to put some money aside for next year though).

Craig brought his arms up and crossed them under his head. This whole nice thing was pretty tricky. It should've been easy, then everyone would be nice and there wouldn't be any problems in the world and he wouldn't have to worry about the fate of his soul.

All this self-debating was starting to make him sound like Tweek. What would Tweek do in this situation? Probably panic, scream a little and throw money out of the window. Craig winced a little at the idea of loosing money in such a silly way. Maybe he could call someone from school. Whose number did he still have? Who could he explain the situation to?

Kenny. Aside from being the only person Craig could handle talking to from practice of working together, he had that whole dying and coming back to life thing going on, meaning Craig could probably explain himself and be believed rather than having to invent a reason why he suddenly agreed with paying charities. And if Kenny didn't believe him he could always pay the other to keep qu-

Craig slapped a hand to his forehead in sync with the idea that hit him. Kenny was poor. Scrooge, in the book, hated poor people, and Craig was being forced to play the part of Scrooge. What better way to prove he wasn't anything like the character than to give money to the poor?

He nearly smiled as he reached over to grab at the bedside table for his mobile again, preparing a list of food that people could eat at Christmas that wouldn't cost him too much. It's not like Kenny's family would care, all that would matter to them was that they were being fed. He'd even make the call anonymous, so they wouldn't feel in debt towards him, though they really should. He'd tell Kenny of course, then he'd probably feel he should concentrate more on any work they shared. Maybe Craig'd offer to buy his lunch every day, if Kenny worked well, that was.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring triumphantly. He'd show those ghosts for drowning him in chains that weren't his problem; he was nothing like who they all assumed. He flipped his phone open and his eye caught on the time. Eight o'clock. He rubbed at his eyes. There was no way an hour had passed. He checked his watch, which read that it was now quarter past eight. His eyes flickered between the phone and the clock and grew wider and wider. Each time they landed on one of the objects he was holding he was told a few minutes had passed. He confirmed his madness now as he stared at his watch and witnessed the hour hand flying past the nine o'clock marker.

Ten. Ten-thirty.

Eleven.

Twelve.

He dropped his mobile and suddenly realised that the phone had returned to standby mode, meaning he was reading his wristwatch without the aid of his makeshift torch. His head flew up and he stared around his room, now bathed in a growing white light, and for a few precious seconds he took in the fact that his walls were actually a very pleasant shade of sky blue in this light, before discerning that the light was growing from his window.

He glowered at the window, which seemed to be causing him all sorts of problems today, and ignored the growing nerves loitering in his stomach as he tried to prepare himself for the next visitor. He still couldn't really understand why he had to go through with this, he'd never really hurt anyone in his life.

It seemed like there was a screen of pure white light being hidden behind the curtains, and he clutched his hands into two painfully tight fists as a pair of familiar, old hands split the curtains allowing a little blinding light to trickle out.

There was a pause for a quick breath, while Craig's heart stammered about in his chest, and then the curtains were pulled open and the figure stepped down through a window which wasn't really there any more.

"Really darling," she spoke, "you should stop staying so cooped up in here, you can't just waste a view like that."

Craig choked. "Grandma?"

She smiled. He wasn't certain that it was her, in the years since her death his memory of her had faded a little, and even now the light she was shrouded in made it difficult to focus. When he squinted at her it seemed as though she was an old lady, how he knew her, but he could see the shadow of a young woman- a child, even- hidden in her features, or maybe the colour of her hair and the way she now carried herself.

"Bu-but you're…. Dead? How are you here?"

She smiled a little more, fondly. "I can't be a ghost because I'm dead?"

He scratched at the back of his head and held his hands there, gripping his hat, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. He wouldn't cry.

She spotted his hat then. "oh, you're still wearing those ridiculous hats, I told your mother they were a bad idea, but did she listen? Look at you now, sleeping in your clothes. This is just like my warning against your father, but she wouldn't lis-"

He closed his eyes. He knew what he had to ask, and there was no way to avoid what would happen next. At least this could be extra work for his essay. "Grandma." He interrupted "I- Are you the ghost of Christmas past?"

His grandmother stopped speaking and began to smile at him again. He couldn't bear to look straight at her when she smiled like that, either the light grew brighter and was too strong to stare into, or the look of pride and love in her eyes was too unfamiliar to him and gave an unbearable stab of what felt like guilt to his stomach.

"I am. Your past."

Craig nodded, having expected the line. He knew the answer to the next question, but tried anyway. "Could you turn that light out? I can't see you."

She seemed to shake her head. "You should know better than to ask that, after you've spent so long keeping everyone around you in the dark."

Craig could remember this tone from his childhood from the times he'd stolen an extra cookie, or pushed Ruby over because her new toy was nicer than his, and suddenly he felt like a very small boy again. His grandmother had always maintained a steady tone when scolding, showing the wrongdoer they had done badly but could still make amends with a soft tone rather than the harsh words his parents had always used. He opened his mouth, but couldn't justify himself completely, and he wasn't ready for apologies just yet.

"Okay."

She returned her expression to the happy one she had been previously adopting and outstretched her hand to him and led him to the window. Complaints of the weather, time of night and falling filled his chest as he climbed onto the sill.

"Well then," she spoke and looked him straight in the eyes. He looked at her hand, feeling like a child and ever so slightly nostalgic more and more as the seconds passed. He took her hand and they jumped.

Craig opened his eyes and looked around. His room had vanished, and he was stood in the playground of South Park elementary school surrounded by snow but unable to feel the cold through his hoodie. His grandma explained that through they could see here, no other sense would be affected, allowing them to also go unseen. Craig wanted to ask why they could stay stood up on the ground, but chose not to in favour of taking in the scene around himself.

He hadn't been here in years. Maybe he should stop by in the future, just on the way home from school. He could take Ruby to school in the mornings? But it was different there now; they'd redone the outside, and put up a fence to stop strangers from getting in.

The sky was incredibly clear on this day, and judging by the coats being carried in the arms of parents passing by the sun was warm enough for the snow to be excused today. The school bell rang, and Craig could hear a cheer go up from inside the building, followed by a swarm of children flying out towards the parents. He was able to name Stan, Kyle, Kenny and Eric out from the crowd, rushing over to a younger, less wound up looking Sharon Marsh. Craig remembered this day. The boys were being taken out to Casablanca's (also confirmed by Eric's annoying cheers of joy). If he was remembering correctly, Token's parents were about to tell Token about his early Christmas present- a two week long holiday in Europe. Clyde was rushing home to play video games for the week leading up to Christmas, and he saw Wendy and Bebe leading a group of girls from their old class to a sleepover before he had to look away, remembering how his eleventh Christmas had been spent with his now drunken-asshole of a father.

"There's still a child in the school, isn't there?" his grandma spoke softly and he nodded slightly, pursing his lips. They watched the solitary figure all in blue exit the school building after everyone had left, and look around. The child's shoulders slumped a little in response to the empty courtyard, before he stood up totally straight and headed towards the road, where he sat down on the curb.

After a second of looking at his shoes the young boy began rummaging around in his school bag and pulled out three comic books. As Craig and the ghost travelled closer to the little figure in the snow Craig couldn't help himself and had to grin at the familiar covers of the books being held in the boys hands.

"Not totally alone then," his grandmother was smiling at the happy look on Craig's face, but he didn't see her.

"I had a copy of 'Scrotie Mcbooger Balls'? How the heck did I forget that?" he definitely remembered the Red Racer comics being flicked through at this moment.

The boy- who was wearing a matching hat to himself, Craig noted, he really had owned that hat for far too long- replaced the books into his bag and, after looking about himself as though to check no one was around, pulled a pad of paper out. He flicked it open and started to scribble as Craig slapped himself on the forehead.

"Dude. No way is that my Coon + Friends story board," he could remember hearing Eric yelling out in the classroom the details of his superhero organisation, and hating the four best friends for giving him such a huge inspiration for a totally ace superhero film.

He looked at his past self and thought about where that note pad, as well as all of the other storyboards he'd drawn out had gotten to. Little Craig started suddenly as the school door opened and both Craigs spun around in sync to see who was running out.

Tweek flew out of the door in a blur of green and yellow, clutching what seemed to be his school bag to his stomach. He ran along the path leading to the school building, but cut the corner at the last second and ran across the snow. Or he tried to, but he tipped over and slipped onto the floor, face first.

Craig saw his younger self jerk a little at Tweek's tumble, and he seemed to twitch as though he wanted to help. The pile that was Tweek was twitching to himself and clutching at his hair. Little Craig sighed and lifted himself off of the pavement in a display of laziness and strolled over to Tweek, who had given up on panicking and seemed to just be lying on the ground trying not to feel stupid. Little Craig stopped next to him for a second before pulling him onto his feet and helping to pick up all of Tweek's books.

Craig could barely make out their conversation from the road, but he thought his younger self was asking Tweek why he'd been running, to which he was given an answer telling him that his bag had broken, so he had to get home before the fabric of the universe was pulled apart.

"I don't remember this happening."

His grandma nodded. "You seem to have forgotten a lot since we last met."

Once Tweek's stuff was in order Craig turned to return to his seat on the pavement. Tweek followed shyly, explaining that his parents would still be working right now. Little Craig simply shrugged when Tweek asked if he could sit with him, though Craig could tell his younger self was happier now.

The two of them spoke for a little while, until Tweek spotted the notepad lying on Craig's bag, and demanded to know that Craig wasn't plotting the end of the world in collaboration with the government. Even his grandma seemed surprised when little Craig passed Tweek the notebook.

The boys sat in comfortable silence, occasionally swapping comments as Tweek flicked through the book. Craig could see now how much interest Tweek had in the book, looking at the details in every little sketched out box and giggling at any jokes, while his past self spent most of the time looking away, almost shy.

They chatted quietly for a few minutes until Craig's sister and mother arrived. His grandma began muttering about how Ruby's hand should be being held as they crossed the road, which Craig didn't feel was wholly justified as his mum was struggling to carry the two matching bags for her children, Craig's in blue, Ruby's in pink. Neither of them had been particularly original when it had come to favourite colours.

"Craig," his mother barked at him a little. Little Craig looked over to her.

"Oh," was all he said as he got up to take the bags.

"Don't just 'oh' me," she said, but without malice and handed the bags over. Little Craig was only eleven, but he was almost taller than her. Ruby hugged gave him a fleeting but warm hug and began spouting out about her day. Marie had called someone a bad word and was sent out. David's pen leaked in his bag and over his lunch so their class pooled together to buy him some food.

Meanwhile Craig's mum muttered at him under Ruby's gossip, "Where's your father? He was meant to meet you here and wait with you."

"I don't know, mom, he wasn't here when I got out."

Craig noticed how his mother tensed up and remembered the unending insults his parents used to throw around about each other.

"That scumbag! He said he'd be here, and is he? I think not. Who the hell just lea-" the noise cut out suddenly and Craig look around worriedly wondering if the vision was ending so quickly.

"You're ignoring them. Notice how you can still hear them a little? You haven't totally lost touch yet," his grandma explained softly. It was true, there was still a faint buzz of conversation where he could still get the gist of what Ruby and his mother were saying.

And then Tweek tapped him on the shoulder, and the noise came back. But this time it was quieter; Ruby and mom had stopped talking.

"I h-have to go now," Tweek was smiling at Craig's younger self, who nodded.

"Okay, see you after Christmas."

Tweek nodded and waved as he walked away, clutching his broken bag in his arms. Little Craig was smiling too.

The car pulled up. It was dark grey, and filthy, and Craig knew that it stank inside of beer and things Craig didn't want to think about. The window rolled down.

Their father nodded at them, and pointedly ignored their mother's presence. He jerked his thumb towards the back of the car, informing Ruby and Craig that they could get in the car.

Craig's mother hugged Ruby goodbye while little Craig put their bags in the boot of the car. Once Ruby was in the car Craig turned to his mother. The two of them looked at each other, both unsure whether they could get away with hugging the other. After a moment Craig sighed and turned away to climb into the car, and as his younger self muttered "see ya," Craig saw with an almost painful lurch to his heart that his mothers arm had been outstretched to him just as he turned.

The door shut and the engine started, and Craig's mother waved at the car until it disappeared around a corner. She wrapped her arms around herself and slowly began to trail her way home.

"You know," the spirit spoke, "she was considering asking your father to move back in with her, just so she could keep you and your sister with her."

Craig stomach felt a little empty and his eyes were curiously damp.

"Is something the matter?" his grandmother spoke gently and placed her arm on his shoulder.

"No, I just wi- no. It's a little cold is all." They both knew that they couldn't feel a thing here.

"Well then," the hand lifted from his shoulder and took his arm "let's go for a walk, that should take up the time we need for it to be Christmas Eve."

"You want us to walk for a week?"

"No, no, dear, just a few minutes should do," They walked along the road towards the corner the car had disappeared around. Craig felt that South Park was unusually quiet for early afternoon. Though it was starting to get a little darker the air was still crisper. The weather couldn't be to blame, today was reasonably warm for winter in the small village, and surely all of the children let out from school would be going insane from the freedom right now? Although the light was really starting to vanish now.

They turned the corner and walked into Denver. Craig spun around but it didn't change much. Behind him was the road across from where his dad now lived, in front was the apartment complex Craig and Ruby were meant to spend alternate Christmases at, though Craig hadn't been there in years. He still knew the number, the stairwell, the walk around the building from car park by heart, and walk it now, as though he was stuck in a dream-like state. Which, what with all of these spirits around, he supposed he was.

The sky was pitch black as they climbed the stairs to the third floor. That walk had always made him loose his breath a little, but he was fine now, it had no effect on his body. As they walked along the balcony to apartment 36 drunken laughter could be heard, and Craig felt his insides churn and clench up in defensive and familiar, practised hatred. Instead of knocking or opening the door, the two of them simply walked through it.

The scene before him was as he had expected. Around five or six large, drunken men were sprawled over the sofa or around the central dinner table. The TV was on, and two of them were discussing the program with slurred, overly nostalgic tones. Craig wanted to scream at them all, make them know how he and Ruby were feeling because of them, hidden a few rooms away trying to sleep and stay silent enough to not be disturbed.

"Why must I see this again?" Craig hissed with his hands clenched. His grandmother shushed him gently, knowing his distaste.

"This one will end shortly," she promised.

"But d'you, y'know, ever regret leaving?"

Craig couldn't stop himself from hissing "She threw him out, fool," venomously at the man next to his father. He wanted to call them things, and could feel their attention being called by the question.

"Listen now, Craig," his Grandma told him, though she seemed pleased by his comment.

His father spoke up then, and the room fell near silent, aside from some snoring and mutterings from the TV. His words broke Craig's glare a little. "Yes" he said, with what could only be guessed was a genuine sigh, "every day."

Craig chocked, and was finding it difficult to breath, or hear anything the others said. He thought he could discern a muffled cry of "Craig? Craig!" from his grandmother, and he clutched his head. There was no way- it wasn't possible that that stupid bastard of a father he'd been stuck with could even consider having feelings-

"BOY!" the bellow was painful and crude, and snapped Craig out of his shock.

"Asshole," he was back to hissing now. How dare his father imply he was the victim here, even to the filth that were more idiotic than himself? The spirit bit her lip with concern a little.

His past self appeared at the door, now aged fourteen, which surprised him a little at first until he remembered that the siblings were spending two Christmases with their father as last year had been spent with their mother as she'd won a holiday in a magazine. Ruby was still in the bedroom, and Craig could still remember his desperation at keeping her away from this. "Yes?" the tone was brusque, almost professional.

"Don't speak to me in that tone," his father tried to stand up for effect, but couldn't find the back of the chair. "and get us s'more beer."

There was a pause, before he flipped them all off, "Get it yourself, you fat fuck."

The room was totally silent for a few seconds before there was noise. They all began offloading yells and slurs at him about how he was out of line, he had no respect, and even one cry of "things weren't like this in my day." Craig's father told them how he'd been working at Craig's age. The room then came to a general consensus that the youth of today should all be given hard labour to teach them the hardships of life. Both Craigs rolled their eyes at the same time.

"Geez…." 14 year old Craig hissed as he left the room "I'll get your fucking beer," he changed a little as he turned, cloths lightening and hair mussing, and the beer he had been reaching for changed to a pint of milk. It was light now, and Christmas morning.

He placed the milk on the table and sat down. Ruby tossed the milk over her cereal while Craig waited his turn. Both avoided looking at their father, who was sat straight in his chair reading a newspaper, the only evidence of his drinking the previous night being his red eyes.

Just as young Craig brought a spoon of cereal to he mouth- he could tell from the matching grumpy looks in their eyes that both children were thinking mourningly of how their mother made them cooked breakfasts on Christmas morning- his father threw the newspaper down at him, narrowly avoiding the cereal.

"Take a look at those. You may not think anything of it, but you're lazy-as-fuck, and I'm tired of having you come here and expect to be waited on. If you're so desperate to act mature and go places on your own you can get a job." Young Craig's fists were clenched, and he jumped into the conversation with anger flashing in his eyes "What the he-!"

"No, I'm not having it. Either you find yourself a job, or I'll call your mother and tell her all about your disgraceful attitude with me. I'm sure she'll have no trouble with removing your playstation or TV" he left the room then, still yelling to himself, and Craig lifted the newspaper off of the table, hands shaking. He let it fall back down next to his cereals.

"Asshole." He hissed darkly, smashing his fist onto the table with a bang that made Ruby jump.

"Craig," modern day Craig turned to look at his grandma, and tried not to feel nauseous as the scene changed again.

He grinned a little once he recognised the front of the building.

His grandmother lead him into the warmly lit room, over to a counter at the back, following a man with a thick scarf and coat. As the man arrived at the counter, a taller, older version of Tweek Tweak walked out from the storage room where he and Craig had spent the quieter times of their shift playing an old game of scrabble they'd found hidden on a shelf one day. They apparently couldn't play Snakes 'n' Ladders as that game was a government conspiracy to find out who was strong enough to climb the ladders, or too weak and feel down the snakes.

Craig gulped as he watched his fifteen-year-old self heat up a cheese and ham toastie and Tweek make the coffee the man had ordered. He couldn't believe he could still remember working shifts at Tweak bros. Coffeehouse, but he couldn't remember how grateful he'd been to Tweek after the other had offered to ask his father if Craig could work with him after hearing Craig complaining and panicking at school over his fathers threats. He shook his head slightly.

The man paid and left, coffee in one hand and sandwich in the other, and Craig and Tweek began a conversation that had seemingly been cut short a few minutes before.

The older Craig looked around the familiar coffee shop, inspecting the Christmas decorations that he himself had put up. It didn't look too bad, he considered, a bit of tinsel and paper chains hanging from the ceiling, and a miniature Christmas tree sat on the counter. There had been no need for adding snow to the window, but he remembered that Clyde- who had helped decorate along with Token- had insisted on adding a packet of damn ugly Christmas themed stickers around the shop.

Craig looked closely at the nearest sticker, which happened to be a particularly creepy looking Santa Claus, and wondered why the hell he'd let Clyde go wild with those stickers. For some reason it'd made the other very happy at the time, though why that had seemed like a decent idea still didn't make sense. It must've been a good day.

His thought process was interrupted by the sound of someone laughing by the counter, and he ducked around the last people to leave the shop, a smiling couple chatting about they're plans for the next day, (and felt very silly when his elbow flew through the woman and he realised he didn't need to move out of the way for her at all) to get a better look at what was happening.

"Well, something different to hear," his grandma said with content, almost teasing him. His face coloured over a little as he realised that the person laughing was his past self.

Tweek stood looking shocked with an empty tray and several piles of shattered china at his feet, while Craig clutched at his gut, bent over with laughter. The blonde stood still for a few seconds, before, he, too, began to laugh.

Older Craig looked over to his grandmother, who was smiling, and felt like he was missing out on something, which he argued was a little silly as it was himself laughing with Tweek behind the counter. It seemed like a bit of a waste to him that they would now have to buy a new set of mugs, but clearly Tweek had done something very funny in the process of dropping the mugs that had seemed so funny to his past self.

Once the boys could breathe reasonably well again, they began clearing the shards of ceramic into a plastic bag. Craig warned Tweek to be careful of the sharp edges, and received a panicked noise in return. After they'd finished Craig leaned back on his heels while Tweek stood up to stuff the bag into the bin and kneel back down in front of Craig. They sat in silence for a few seconds, before they started laughing softly, again.

Craig's younger self leaned his head back against the cupboard he was sat next to, and smiled up at the ceiling. As his face fell, and coloured over slightly, older Craig's stomach dropped a little as he suddenly remembered what happened next.

"Wh- what? Oh god, the aliens have- ngh- landed, haven't they?" Tweek's hands shot to his hair as his eyes shot upwards. Both Craigs' faces coloured over at the sight of the mistletoe the two boys had unknowingly sat under. Older Craig's stomach dropped as he remembered this happening.

The four of them waited in the coffeehouse in awkward silence, nobody knowing quite what to do. Craig panicked and wondered if anything would happen if he threw himself into the two boys or attempted to pull down the offensive decoration. The other Craig squirmed and shifted uncomfortably into a kneeling position, while Tweek sat frozen staring upwards almost in fear. Craig remembered not being offended by that because it was Tweek, and Tweek was scared of everything. He also remembered an annoying and bizarre fondness of that fact.

"C-Craig," Tweek spoke quietly, still looking upwards. Craig noted that the two of them had unconsciously shifted closer. He turned to his grandmother and explained how he felt they'd learnt enough from this scene and could now move on. She just shushed him brusquely and insisted that things were "just getting interesting".

"Yeah?" Craig hadn't realised that he'd been looking at Tweek like that and despised himself for it. What the hell had he been thinking? Even Tweek seemed a little taken aback when he looked down and saw the almost kind look on Craig's face. The entire scenario was like a sickeningly sweet nightmare. It was incredibly bizarre watching himself play out these acts, and was a little shocked at how long it took for him to realise that it was like the detachment of watching himself on one of his old home movies. It had been a while since he'd watched one of those.

He reasoned that he had slightly bigger problems right now, however much he may of missed his old films, and was so totally engrossed by what was happening that he forgot what happened next.

"Gn-gnomes," Tweek muttered in a frightful tone, pointing upwards. He could remember the embarrassing thought that Tweek had panicked at their proximity and made the first excuse he could to get out of it (a thought that had left him somewhat sleepless and grumpy for weeks, but he wasn't just ready to remember that just yet). Younger Craig hung his head in his own way of avoiding the situation, but from where he was stood now, he could in fact see a gnome crawling away to safety. He felt the same funny drop to his stomach as when he'd seen his mother stretching her hand out to him.

The two boys looked at each other for a second, and Craig remembered, and almost felt, the nervous stab to his chest that he'd felt two years ago, when Tweek's father walked in, and older Craig couldn't quite decide whether it was about time or not.

The two fifteen year olds jumped up from behind the counter so quickly that they hit their heads together painfully, while Richard Tweak told them to close up the shop early, due to it being Christmas Eve. Craig thanked him silently for intervening while his past self thanked him out loud for the time off, but he couldn't help but notice the empty look in Tweek's eyes and his stomach ache worsened.

"Now can we go?" He muttered quietly to his Grandmother.

"One last bit," she spoke gently.

The two boys were clearing away quite cheerfully due to their shortened shift. They finished with around half an hour free before Craig's dad would pick him up. Ruby would be picked up from their home with the bags. Craig couldn't remember the conversation the boys were now having and figured it was reasonably too mundane to be remembered. Craig's grandmother seemed to check her watch, though he couldn't remember her ever wearing one, and then placed her hand on his lower shoulder, guiding him to the door.

"This should take up some time, if we just…." She pulled open the door and Craig was amused to compare the steady, gentle snowfall that could be seen through the windows to the harsh blizzard of ice shards that was whipping past the doorway.

He almost wanted to call goodbye to Tweek, but instead narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at such a silly notion as he passed through the doorway he shielded his eyes from the wind and snow and tensed his body against the cold, but was pleased to find that the snow didn't touch him and his body temperature stayed constant.

The same, however, could not be said for the younger version of Craig stood in the storm- now older by about an hour- who's dark blue jacket was so snow loaded it seemed to take on a pale shade of pastel blue. He was shivering and tapped repeatedly at his phone, which had a touch screen and was having trouble registering Craig's orders when his hands were so cold.

It seemed that he was making a call as when he was finally successful he moved the phone up to his ear, tucked under his hat. After a few moments he cursed, looked at the phone and poked the screen a couple of times before his call was picked up and the groggy, half asleep voice of his father could be heard.

"Who's it?"

"Craig. You know. Your son."

"The hell d'you want?"

Craig watched as his younger self's eyes narrowed into a glare and his shoulders squared despite the cold making them hunch as anger took over his body.

"You fucking forgot, didn't you?"

There was a pause, before a gruff "forgot what?" and Craig slammed his fist into the phone, effectively hanging up (and breaking the phone, which had later annoyed him, again. Those things weren't too cheap.).

Older Craig shook his head. "How can you forget your own kids?" his nails were cutting half moons into his palms. His grandmother didn't reply, but he was comforted by the knowledge that she disliked his father almost as much as Craig hated him.

The bell of the coffee shop jingled cheerfully through the tense night air, and Tweek walked out shivering with his dad. He stopped when he saw Craig still standing outside and mumbled something to his dad. He walked over to Craig and stood next to him, shaking.

"Ar-are you still-ngh- going?" Craig shook his head and Tweek nodded, not wanting to pry. "Do you- ack!- wanna sleep at mine? We-we've got popcorn, and loads of food, we co-could watch a film or-" he stopped when Craig turned to look at him, looking nervous and worried that something was wrong. Craig turned away again, a move that he could now see was to hide how grateful he felt.

"Yeah, that sound's cool."

"I can't-" Craig was fully willing to admit how shocked and almost ashamed he was that he'd forgotten how kind Tweek had always been.

"How can you forget your own friends?" his grandma spoke softly, pulling him gently away from the brown car Tweek's dad would be driving them in and around the corner.

His and Tweek's 16-year-old selves walked out of the only cinema in South Park and onto the street. Craig and the spirit followed just behind. The two in front of them were totally silent. Tweek was staring at his feet, twisting and untwisting his hands in and out of fists, as if he was weary or scared.

"So, uh…. What did you, ngh, think of the film?"

Craig shrugged. "It kinda sucked. Wasn't worth the money," Tweek almost seemed to deflate and figured that conversation had ended.

"How awkward," the Ghost spoke and Craig frowned.

"Not really, he easily could've asked me why," Craig argued. It wasn't his fault, he'd been studying film making in his spare time and now couldn't watch a film without counting out every scene change or making digs at the soundtrack.

The walk continued in quiet for another five minutes before Tweek tried again. "D'you wanna, um, go anywhere?"

Without missing a beat younger Craig shrugged and muttered whatever.

"We could- ngh- go to the arc-cade? Or walk down the hi-high street?" Craig shook his head.

"Cost too much these days."

"W-well, we don't have spend money, we could just go to Stark's Pond? Or m-my house, if…. If you want to…." He faded out as Craig gave him a look.

"I don't care."

There was something harsh about his tone; he had to admit now he could hear it. He noticed his grandmother watching him and frowned at her.

"What? I was letting him choose," She turned away with her eyebrows raised, looking very much like him.

The boys were silent again, falling into step with each other. At the time he'd thought it was fine, tweek just understood that he wasn't so big on the talking thing. Clyde and Token hadn't seemed to get that, and had recently been distancing themselves from him he'd scoffed at that, knowing he was better without them.

Looking at himself and Tweek now though, it was just…. tense. Tweek was obviously under enough stain from not yelling out that there was far too much pressure going on, let alone what the actual situation was doing to him. He still seemed willing to make another attempt at conversation though.

"Wh-what d'you want for Christma-mas?"

Younger Craig sighed. "I dunno, Tweek, you know I don't believe in that bullshit anymore."

Tweek smiled, and Craig now noticed how his face coloured over slightly when he's spoken his name. It was almost unnoticeable under the red already over his cheeks from the wind. "Yeah, but I can still buy you presents."

"It's not like I'm gonna get you anything," Craig's tone could only be described as grumpy. Tweek stopped walking in the middle of the street. His back tensed as he curled up and gripped his hair with both hands, trembling a little more than he usually would.

"What."

Craig spoke blankly and kept very still with his hands in his pockets, eyes lidded with the lack of empathy they held. Tweek looked up at him and seemed to snap. "Argh! What the hell, Craig? This is way too much pressure, you're so different now, did the government turn you into some weirdo, creepy grinch as some weirdo experiment or something? Or was it aliens?" Tweek jerked foreward in a single disjointed movement to dig his nails into Craig's shoulders "Oh my god, I bet it was aliens! It's aliens, isn't i-"

Craig smacked Tweek's arm away with a sudden, harsh crack.

Tweek blinked in shock and slowly gripped at his shaking arm. That had sounded fairly painful. Craig remembered that at the time he was certain that Tweek was about to start bawling at him. He still was, even though he could remember what happened next. He could even mutter Tweek's next words along with him, though he'd not thought about this day in a very long time. He didn't care or anything, but…. He couldn't help but be somewhat over taken by the longing for his younger self to just spontaneously hug Tweek, or to just do something that would prove himself as something, anything, but the heartless bastard that he was being here.

"Craig," they muttered together, both staring straight at the floor avoiding their companions eyes. "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

There was a second's pause, allowing the older Craig to watch Tweek's reaction to what he would say next.

"Kay." Tweek did not disappoint. His eyes snapped up to Craig's now retreating back. The expression on his face was terrible, the hurt and pain clearly visible, and Craig felt like he'd kicked a small puppy, though he hadn't really done anything himself right now.

Tweek wrapped his arms round his skinny frame, slowly and not seeming to realise what he was doing, turning away and trailing in the direction of his home. He looked really cold and small, and Craig tried to follow him, but his grandmother caught hold of his arm, stopping him effectively.

He chocked on the strain of not yelling at her, and managed to control his voice to a semi-level beg for freedom. She shook her head.

"My time is short, and you've had the chance to follow him once before," he could feel his cheeks and mouth tense up into a glare completed by it's frown. "If you want to help him then learn your lessons."

He turned to argue with her, but instead turned into Clyde's kitchen.

His stabbing anger towards her faded as he really looked at her and saw just how fragile she looked right now. The youth she'd regained when they had first been reunited had faded since, leaving her looking gaunt ad sunken, like she had the year leading up to her death, and it hit Craig fully in the chest that soon he would loose her again.

He wanted to say something meaningful, but she tugged him through the living room by the arm, slowly and carefully like a pensioner would. There was a crowd of Craig's old friends sat here, in this room that was so very familiar no matter how long it'd been since he was last here. Nostalgia filled him as he looked about, making his stomach clench painfully with regret. That aching took over his entire body once he saw Tweek again, though it had been a matter of minutes since he'd technically last seen him.

Tweek was sat on Clyde's sofa, with Damien and Pip on his left, Kyle to the right. They were all, aside from Damien, talking desperately and quickly. As Craig moved towards them, supporting his grandmother with one arm, he could tell they were working to try and convince Damien that they cared that it was his birthday too. Apparently the anti-Christ was a little annoyed and jealous of the attention he was missing out that was caused by the fuss from the village every year for their very own Jesus.

Craig laughed scornfully was his eye caught Timmy and Jimmy were watching Kevin play a Star Wars themed game Stan.

"The hell are Stan and Kyle doing here? Fatass better not be camping out in the fridge or something stupid."

"It was really only you who didn't like that group of boys. Well," the Spirit answered him "Things occasionally get a little…. Tense between Stan and Token if Wendy's around. And of course nobody really likes 'fatass', as you put it."

Clyde walked in at that point, carrying his body weight in plates of food- which was an accomplishment when you thought about it- followed by Kenny complete with drinks.

"Oh my God, guys, my mum made Christmas themed tacos!" he set the food down on the table, allowing Craig to frown over how disappointingly not Christmassy the tacos looked aside from their already taco-like colours.

It was just as well the food had been put down when it was, as at that moment Clyde's front door opened and a snow-covered Token walked in to the house. Clyde whooped and bombed into his friend like the idiot he was, latching onto him and looking very much like he was about to burst into tears.

"Oh Jesus, man, your flight got in on time, you're here, you're totally here and not in guacamole!"

"Guatemala…." Token muttered like a frustrated parent as the others began to crowd around him and he reached into a bag he'd been carrying that was now on the floor and started to hand out gifts.

Tweek shrieked from the living room where he had stayed, kneeling on the sofa with his hands gripping into his hair and wide eyes. "Token was flying in this weather, and you didn't tell me?"

Clyde shrugged from where he was still clinging to Token, close to the floor he was at risk of being dropped to. "You were mopping, we figured you didn't need anything more to worry about." Well that was wrong. If anything Tweek was the type who needed distracting. "So anyways, how was the flight?" Tweek yelped at the word flight from the living room and shut his eyes. The group began to return to the living room, Clyde detaching from Token to steal his tacos, all content with their respective presents.

"It was awesome, I'm pretty sure we almost crashed around three times," (Tweek meeped again) "but…. What's up with Tweek?" While Stan had been out of the room, Kevin had taken the opportunity to finish kicking the crap out of his virtual character, and Craig watched Tweek focus on that to avoid the conversation.

"Craig broke up with him," Clyde flung himself dramatically onto the couch as he spoke, completing the movement by smacking the back of his hand into his forehead gracelessly in mock faint impression. Craig was glad to see the food on his plate almost tipped over as he did that.

The only reactions Tweek gave to the conversation were slightly wider eyes and a lack of trembling. He'd also muttered that he and Craig hadn't been dating around the same time Craig had, though one of them couldn't be heard.

"Is that why he was sat at home alone watching Red racer?" Token attempted to change the topic a little and Tweek actually turned to him at that, brightening a little.

"Ws he watching episode 137?" Clyde raised his eyebrows expressively at Tweek, who turned away shyly.

"What?"

"W-was the main character blue?"

"Um…. Yeah, I think so. How the heck did you know that?"

Tweek's cheeks coloured over a little. "Um, well he actually has a pa-patern to how he wat-ngh- watches them. Sometimes if I couldn't sleep he'd come over and we'd watch it together, but I had to watch the same episodes over and over again if he fell asleep. It's kind of- gah!- weird, but I learnt it in the end."

"Damn, When you said he used to help you I thought he might've been a nice guy for a second. That was until you mentioned that he was an anal fuck over it-"

Token scolded Clyde's language and Craig didn't listen to the group begin to insult him. Tweek also avoided the topic he was pleased to see, along with Pip and Damien, though he suspected that Damien really didn't care. He was fairly certain that Kenny could see them, which was a little odd now that he had grown used to people not seeing them.

"I want to go now," he said, and his Grandma watched his unchanging expression for a second as though to check how serious he was. Then she nodded once, firmly, and the light fell away from them. She gripped his hands firmly, once, before she began to slip away from him. As she left him he scrambled and clawed at the air in front of him, trying to pull her back to him. But it was far too late, and she'd gone.

Voices and sounds from what he'd seen and heard filled his ears and his mind as she'd faded away, only they were terrible and accusing and his pulled his hands over his ears like a child and screwed his eyes shut. Nothing helped to block the sound out.

It was like he was Ruby, being hidden away from their screaming parents, only there was no older sibling to protect him. He was falling down into deeper darkness and the choking dread that filled him told him he was falling onto someone's grave.

He shot up from his bed and gasped loudly, before folding over and curling into a safer cocoon of pillow and sheets.