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There was a little boy who flipped Craig off every day on his way home from work. He became aware of just how old he had become the first time it happened. He slammed on his brakes, mouth agape. He wonder ed if he should knock on the kid's door to tell his parents what a little bastard their child was, and then it hit him: he would have done the same damn thing thirty years ago.
This had led him into a spiral, that ended with him falling asleep on the couch, two beers in front of him, trying to convince himself things could be so much worse. For example, he could be Clyde who had just ended his fifth marriage and was off trying to “find himself” once again.
The kid must have sensed how upset it had made him, because now he flipped him off every single day. It was like clockwork; that little asshole would be sitting on his porch steps to show him his middle finger. It never lost its novelty either, because that demon of a 10-year-old would double over in laughter every single time.
Craig got used to it though, and eventually it stopped sending him into a middle-aged spiral.
This day was a particularly good day, because the little brat had fallen over his feet, and Craig had to remind himself that he was 40-years-old and it was immature to roll down his window and laugh at a crying child.
It did, however, make him smile as he pulled into his driveway.
The house he lived in wasn’t exactly in the middle of nowhere, but the neighbors were few and far between. It was the way he liked it; he’d never been much of a people’s person. The first house he moved into had been next to a nice elderly woman. She had been thrilled that she had a new neighbor and invited him to pie that evening.
He had panicked at the thought, but still accepted her invitation. The evening had been awkward and he excused himself early. When he had called his sister to recount the day's events, she had reminded him that he should go back to therapy, and that isolating himself wasn’t normal and that it happened when he was ten-
He’d hung up on her after that.
He was not agoraphobic, and he had plenty of friends. Even if he turned down most of their invitations to go out, they were still his friends. Clyde called him almost every day. Sure, it was mostly him crying about how Bebe had a family now and none of the divorces he’d went through were his fault, and Craig would respond with “uh huh” “yeah” ... It still counted.
When he entered the comfort of his warm home and saw that he had two voicemails on his answering machine (because unfortunately one of the downsides to living in a rural area meant having a landline), he expected it to be Clyde. But much to his surprise, it was his sister.
“Hey Craig, it’s Tricia. I just wanted to let you know that mom has been more lucid today than she has been in awhile..” He could hear the exasperation in her voice grow. “So, if you want to talk to her and have her actually remember you, now would be a good time to come and see her. Listen... I know you hate it here ever since...”
He deleted the message before she could finish.
He took a deep breath, and braced himself for a message from an even angrier Tricia, so he was surprised to hear a familiar voice he hadn’t heard from in a while.
“What’s up, Craig? It’s me Kenny... I don’t know if you’ve heard but I have a small business going...” That was a stupid statement, he had heard and the business Kenny had was anything but small. He’d seen his face on ‘Time’ and every other notable magazine.
“Kenneth McCormick” and his discovery of interdimensional travel.
“What am I saying, of course you have.” Kenny chuckled over the voicemail. “Anyway, I talked to Karen and she said you’re sort of a hermit these days. But I promised you when we were eighteen that I would find a way for you to see Tweek again, to see what he looked like after the age of eleven. And a promise is a promise... Take your time and think about it, and if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”
Craig wasn’t even aware that he was holding his breath, until he let out a gasp. He unclenched his fists, his finger nails leaving indents to the palm of his hand.
He had avoided that name for years; he had avoided that memory for years as well. As if the thought alone could curse him.
But it could make him feel better, right? To see the person who had once been so important to him. Maybe it could alleviate some of the guilt. He had carried it for so long now, no matter how much therapy he had been through, he could never get rid of it all.
The thought plagued him for the rest of the night; it made his chest heavy as he lied in bed at night. He was almost convinced that he was having a heart attack. Maybe the memory alone was killing him, just like it had his father.
Thomas Tucker had never been the same after the trial. Most nights, he would find his dad asleep on the couch with bottles of liquor surrounding him. No one had been surprised when his liver had starting failing him.
Even his mother would talk about the trial in tears, thinking that she had just been there. Those were the days where it was harder to deal with her dementia. She had clung on to Craig’s sleeves and cried, thinking he was his father. “He was so small, Thomas,” she had sobbed almost dragging her son to the floor, “he was just so small.”
Craig hadn’t realized he was crying until a stray tear found it’s was down in his ear, clogging it. He sniffled, wiping them away with the palm of his hands. He put pressure on his eyes, until he could calm down.
When was the last time he cried about this?
When was the last time he had cried at all?
Craig had fallen asleep at some point, because the sun was up when he opened his eyes. It took him awhile to remember the night before. When he did remember, he already knew without question that he would be returning home.
The drive back to South Park wasn’t all that long, but it was stressful all the same. Seeing his mom and sister was going to be painful, even though it wasn’t their fault. And then there was the elephant in the room.
Maybe it was a bad idea, and it would only leave him feeling emptier. It could make him feel angry at the life he had, once he seen what could have been. But he wasn’t a fan of that self-pity bullshit, so it was settled.
However, there was also the fact that his very fragile life was in the hands of Kenny McCormick, the say guy who got high on cat piss that one time. Despite that, if Craig had to trust anyone out of the group of four that used to be known as “Stan’s gang” it would be Kenny, shortly followed by Kyle.
He reminded himself of this as he slowly made his way up the hill to the laboratory that was once Dr. Mephestos. Once he reached the top, he remembered he was middle aged by how much his lungs burned. He bent over to put his hands on his knees, taking a few deep breaths. He looked up at the building that was now at least 90% less menacing.
Craig closed his eyes to steady himself, and then pressed the intercom button. A woman’s voice answered almost immediately. “Hi! How can I help you?”
He cleared his throat, trying not to sound nervous. “Y-Yeah, it’s Craig. Craig Tucker... I’m a friend of Kenny’s.”
Shit... Should he have called him Kenneth?
The woman answered. “Yes! Dr. McCormick is expecting you!”
There was a beeping sound as the gates automatically opened.
Craig groaned when he saw the steep stairs in front of him.
After more climbing, and more groaning, and even more heaving. He made it to the top of the stairs, and right outside the laboratory. Kenny must have been waiting for him, because before he could even catch his breath, he was being pulled into a hug.
He stood stiffly as Kenny pulled back to look at him. “I love what you’ve done with the hair.” He smirked and Craig pushed him.
“Shut the fuck up, dude.” He mumbled, covering the top of his head with his hand. “Every time I look in the mirror, I see my dad, and it kind of sucks.”
Kenny cleared his throat, trying to stop the conversation from getting awkward. “I’m surprised you came; I wasn’t expecting you to take up my offer.”
“I’m surprised I came too.” He admitted, surprised to hear himself saying it out loud.
“You know, if it’s too much, you don’t have to do it now.” Kenny explained.
Craig shook his head, no matter how much he would love to take Kenny up on that offer. “No... I came back to see my mom too, if I don’t do it now, then I don’t think I’ll do it at all.”
Kenny motioned forward with his arm. “I’m at least going to give you a tour, and you know, brag a little bit.”
Kenny had every right to brag, because beside being a physicist, he really had made the place look brand new. The floors were so bright and clean he could see his reflection, and the walls were brightly colored. He couldn’t imagine how long it took to renovate the once drab building. But then he remembered something.
“What the hell did you with all the four assed cats, and monkeys... Or whatever Mephesto had?” He asked, allowing himself to get angry at the memory.
Kenny turned toward him, and let out a deep breath. “It was very difficult, and there were many injuries but the place has a normal number of asses now.”
“What the hell did you do with them?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Let’s just say, there’s a market for everything.” Kenny replied. “Let me show you what we’re working with in here.”
Craig hadn’t even realized that they’d stopped in front of a door. The feeling of apprehension suddenly settled back in his stomach.
Kenny must have nodded because he paused, his hand hovered just above the security pad. “You don’t have to do this Craig. It was just an offer...”
“No-No I want to just...” He closed his eyes for a moment. “Just give me a second.”
It took longer than a second, but Kenny was patient, not saying a word until Craig opened his eyes and nodded. Only then, did Kenny press his hand against the scanner. The lock beeped twice before the metal door opened.
On the other side of the door were more than a dozen scientists, but in the middle of it all was an arch raised on a metal platform. At least, that’s what it looked like... on the other side of the arch, there was just black. There was no other way to describe it... Except it could be compared to a black hole.
“Is that a black hole?” Craig asked, the volume of his own voice surprising him. “Are you going to put me into a black hole?”
Kenny must have noticed how panicked he was becoming because he put his hands up in a placating manner. “It’s not a black hole...” Kenny paused “Well, I mean not really .”
“Not really ?” Craig repeated. “A-Are you going to kill me?”
Kenny interrupted him before he could spiral even further. “It’s more like a doorway, an interdimensional doorway.” He explained. “Using string theory, we can transport you into a very specific time and place.”
Craig gulped and narrowed his eyes. “String theory says that we’re all made of tiny strings... Am I gonna get all warped and stuff.”
“It’s going to be so fast you won’t even realize it happened.” Kenny soothed. “But if you get motion sick, we have some anti-nausea medicine for you to take.” He tried to give Craig a playful smile, but it didn’t work. “We’ve tested this time and time again. The only death we’ve had was some goober named Chuck, and it was because Chuck didn’t listen to me. The paperwork was a nightmare but luckily, he’d signed a disclaimer before going in.”
“You are not making me feel better, man.” Craig mumbled.
“Okay, well, think of it this way...” Kenny continued. “There are millions of car accidents but you still drive a car, right?” He motioned to the interdimensional doorway. “One out of a hundred isn’t that bad.”
Craig paused. Kenny had a point, but he needed to know one more thing.
“Eric didn’t have anything to do with this, right?”
Kenny snorted. “Oh God, no.”
Craig gave him a single nod. “Okay, so what do I have to do.”
Kenny gave him a bright grin, snapping his fingers and giving him finger guns which made Craig roll his eyes and wonder when the hell they’d gotten so cringey.
“First, I’m going to need your phone or anything else that did not exist twenty-two years ago.” Kenny explained extending his hand for Craig’s cell phone.
Craig gave him his cellphone as he did the math in his head. “Twenty-two years ago? So, I was what... Eighteen?”
“Eighteen.” Kenny confirmed. “It was the only good timeline we could find.”
“The only one?”
Kenny looked down and nodded. “Tweek died in every single one but this one.”
They both grew silent as Craig pondered the information he was given. He didn’t remember much about Tweek, probably because all of the time he spent trying to forget. He did remember that he was one of sweetest souls Craig had met. It made him angry that the world could be so cruel as to kill him in every timeline but one.
Craig shook his head, as if shaking though away. “What next?”
Kenny looked at a female scientist who walked over with a device that looked like an ear piece his dad would wear to talk to his co-workers; talking loudly and oblivious to how annoyed everyone around him was.
“Heather here will put this ear piece on you.” Kenny explained. “It will be connected to the one I’m wearing, and we’ll be able to monitor on that screen over there.” He motioned to a big screen surrounded by two other employees.
Craig nodded, taking in everything Kenny said, not wanting to die a goober like Chuck.
“You’ll be able to tell me what to do?” He asked.
“Yes.” Kenny answered. “I’ll also tell you’re doing something that’s going to change an outcome in the future. Listen to me.” He didn’t say anything else, but the threat was there. Listen to him or he’d end up like Chuck.
The rest of the process was relatively easy. Heather attached the ear piece, and made sure it was working; Kenny did an extra sweep to make sure he didn’t have anything on him that didn’t exist twenty-two years ago... and then he put a twenty-dollar bill in his pocket, for some reason... Craig went to question it but Kenny gave him a look that said ‘you’ll see’.
Suddenly, he was right in front of what was essentially the void. Before he went through, he looked over at Kenny.
“If I turn into human spaghetti, can you make sure to take care of my guinea pig, Lord Stripe?” He asked, wringing his hands. “I paid some punk to take care of him, and I don’t trust the little shit.”
“You’re not going to die, Craig.” Kenny responded. “But sure, I’ll take care of him for you. Maybe add a few asses to him, see if I can make some more money.”
Craig flipped Kenny off as he walked through.
Craig wished he had accepted the anti-nausea medicine. Because going to another dimension felt like going upset down an immeasurable number of times. It was the feeling of taking a nap during the day and waking up hours later, not remembering who he was, or what year he was in, but on steroids.
“Fuck.” He mumbled, and then he tripped over his feet catching himself on a brick wall. “FUCK!” He said louder, trying to stop himself from vomiting.
“We offered you medicine, Craig.” Kenny said, and he jumped almost forgetting that he had an ear piece.
Craig ran his hand down his face, taking a few deep breaths. “I know, I know...” I responded. “Shut the hell up.”
When he finally gathered himself, he looked around. He was in an alley, but he couldn’t quite tell which one.
“Where exactly am I?” He asked, looking around to make sure no one was listening to him, believing he was having a complete breakdown.
“The alleyway to Raisins .” Kenny explained, continue down the alley, and there is a Denny’s next to the Microbrew.”
“There used to be a Denny’s?” He asked, surprised.
He could hear Kenny snort over the earpiece. “There still is a Denny’s, Craig.” Wow, he really needed to come home more often. “Butters is actually the regional manager. He comes up here almost every day to inform me about the hot deals they have going on.”
Craig was lucky he’d decided to wear a jacket, because it was a chilly night. He looked around as he made his way through the alleyway. It made him feel nostalgic, like it was a liminal space. He truly did feel stuck between spaces. It made his stomach turn for some reason, but that could have been the nausea he was still feeling from getting there.
He stopped in front of the Denny’s, waiting for Kenny to say something but he stayed eerily silent.
He shrugged to himself and entered the restaurant. The heat was welcome, and a server met him as soon as he walked in.
“Hi, just one today?” She asked. She looked oddly familiar like one of the girls he had went to school with, maybe Heidi Turner? He wasn’t sure. He realized he was staring far too long trying to remember who she was because she took a small step back.
“Uh... sorry... Yeah, just one.” He murmured.
She was leading him to the third row of seats when Kenny decided to scare the shit out of him by suddenly speaking.
“First row!” He said urgently.
He stopped in the middle of the restaurant, causing maybe-Heidi to stop mid step, and turn around to give him an impatient look. He couldn’t blame her, especially when he instinctively responded to Kenny.
“What?” He snapped.
Maybe-Heidi narrowed her eyes at him.
“I-I’m sorry.” He responded. “Can I actually get a seat in the first row?”
She nodded, obviously wanting to get away from him. She led him to a booth in the first row, once again keeping her distance from him. “Is this okay?” He waited a moment to let Kenny speak up, but he did not.
“It should be okay.” He said slowly. At this point he was convinced that the police were going to be called with how suspicious he was acting; maybe that’s why she left so quickly after he sat down.
He rested his head on his hand, tapping on the table with his other fingers. Patience had never been his virtue. “Kenny... why am I here?”
“Just wait a moment.” Kenny said simply.
As if on cue, he heard a familiar voice. At least, slightly familiar. It was deeper than he remembered it, but still had the scratchy tone, but sounded less anxious. It almost made him fall out of the seat from the mere shock of hearing it.
“Clyde is just an idiot.” The voice said. “Mm, he gets drunk and t-then does stupid things.”
Then he heard his voice.
“No, he gets drunk and then he tries to be gay toward my boyfriend.” Did he still talk in that nasally tone? Was his voice livelier back then? “He sang ‘Jessie’s Girl’, Tweek. He changed the lyrics to ‘Craig’s boy’.”
The two sat down in the booth next to him. It was an 18-year-old version of himself, and...
Tweek.
He was seeing a ghost, but then reminded himself, in this world his life wasn’t cut short at the age of eleven. For years, he’d wondered what Tweek would have looked like if only the boy had grown up beside him and now, he had the answer.
His hair was slightly less messy, but parts of it still stood in different directions. Currently, it was being pushed down with a white beanie. It ended just below his ears. His face was slightly chubbier, with freckles across his nose and cheeks; his eyes were as green as he remembered.
It was weird how he suddenly remembered being eleven. It made him feel sad, and he clenched his hands as if it would keep him from breaking down.
He didn’t feel love. No, he was far too old to feel love for someone he’d lost so long ago. Thinking of Tweek, just made him feel stuck.
But now that he’d seen him, he felt like he could finally move forward.
He stared for far too long apparently because there was a snapping noise and he turned his head to catch the angry gaze of himself, but twenty-two years ago.
“Do you want me to kick your ass, man?” His nasally voice said. Was he always such a little asshole? “Stop staring.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but then there Kenny’s voice on the other side. “Don’t respond to your asshole self, there’s nothing productive you want to say, and fighting yourself is going to get you arrested and you don’t want that to happen. Trust me.”
Craig closed his mouth so he didn’t look like a stupid fish. He made a mental note to ask Kenny to expand on how he knew that later.
He simply nodded at his younger self, and he saw that Tweek’s right hand was shaking and he was biting his nails on his left.
He was scared.
Craig turned away, and saw his younger self grab his boyfriend’s hand, squeezing it.
Luckily the waitress came to ease the tension, and he let out a relieved sigh because he could see younger Craig sending a death glare his way the entire time; he could also hear Tweek mumbling for him to let it go.
“Can I get something to drink for you?” The older woman asked.
“Uh... yeah...” He said, realizing he hadn’t even opened the menu in front of him. “I’ll have a cherry soda, but like, can you use cherry sauce... And then put a cherry on top.”
He could feel the annoyance in the way she looked at him, pursing her lips and writing it down on her notepad.
Maybe they just didn’t do that that anymore, but it was a specific thing he would always order when he was younger...
Oh, wait.
He turned his head slightly to see younger Craig staring at him, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape, somehow looking more angry than confused.
“Hey man, you have got to stop acting like Craig.” Kenny said through the earpiece. “I’m being serious, you do not want to fight yourself in another dimension. It’s messy shit.”
He wanted to yell at him and ask how the fuck is he supposed to stop acting like himself? But he stayed silent, and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead.
“I’ll have the same.” Younger Craig mumbled from beside him.
Why couldn’t he have just ordered water?
There was an awkward silence, as the waitress mumbled to herself and walked away. Craig’s hands instinctually went to his phone, until he realized Kenny had taken it from him. Eventually, he just put his hands in front of him.
“S-Stop staring.” He heard Tweek whisper to asshole Craig (that’s what he had settled on calling him.)
“I’ve gotta piss... Will you be okay, Tweek?” Asshole asked, but his voice was soft.
He heard Tweek make a noise of disapproval. “Mm, Craig... Bebe and Wendy have been taking me to self-defense classes since we were twelve.”
“Okay...” He could feel asshole’s eyes on him, “if you feel uncomfortable, just yell and I’ll come and kick his ass.”
Craig was waiting for Kenny to guide him back to his own world, but he stayed silent on the other side. Craig almost worried that Kenny had died or something, and he was stuck in a dimension that was not his own.
“Um... I’m sorry about him.” A voice said beside him.
He turned his head so fast, that he was pretty sure his neck was broken. It was like hearing a ghost, but as he met green eyes, he was all too aware that this person was alive. He swallowed heavily, afraid to answer lest he ruin everything.
“Go ahead and answer him, it’s okay.” Kenny’s voice said on the other side. Just in time as well, because he could see Tweek start to panic, believing him to be an actual creep.
“I-It’s fine.” He said, his voice cracking slightly.
“He’s just you know...” He replied, playing with the cuffs of his jacket.
Craig looked at him, confused. Tweek’s eyes widened. “Wow, you’re not from here... Mm... Are you?”
“No, I’m just passing through.” He replied, choosing his words very carefully.
Tweek nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. “I was that kid who was kidnapped like seven years ago- hmm- everyone knows so...”
Craig could tell that was true, by the way some adults would turn their head to get a look at him. He couldn’t imagine, but it was typical of South Park. It wasn’t every day a child got abducted in this town. He remembered the town being in the news for months after they’d found him. Only one thing came to Craig’s mind.
“But you lived.” He said simply. He hoped the disbelief wasn’t that evident in his voice.
A smile graced Tweek’s lips. “Y-Yeah, I did.”
He could feel that it was time to leave and go back to his own world. But he couldn’t leave before asking one more thing.
“Do you um... blame anyone?” He asked, wanting slapping himself with how that sentence came out.
Kenny must have agreed, because he heard Kenny warn him from the other side. “Be careful, man. You’re tip-toeing the line.”
“What?” Tweek asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Do you blame anyone for what happened?” He had to ask. He had to know.
“I only blame the guy who did it.” He answered. “Mm, why would I blame anyone else?”
He nodded, not toward Tweek, but more to himself; that was all he needed to know, and as the tears threatened to fall, he stood abruptly. He threw the twenty dollars on the table (silently thanking Kenny); he ignored the questioning voices coming from behind and booked it out of there.
He doesn’t remember exactly how he got back to the portal, but he barely felt the vertigo when he entered the real world. When met Kenny’s eyes, he only had one question.
“D-Did I ruin it?” He choked. “Did I ruin their lives?”
He didn’t know how else to ask the question. But he was terrified he had gone too far, that he had somehow ruined the life of a happier version of himself.
“No, you didn’t.” Kenny said calmly. “I wouldn’t have let you.”
With that, Craig pulled Kenny into a hug. The latter wrapped his arms around Craig slowly, gently patting his shoulder. “He didn’t blame me, Kenny.”
Kenny pulled him at arm's length. “He never did, Craig.”
Life didn’t magically get better after that, because that wasn’t how it worked. Remembering that part of his childhood was difficult, but he was making small steps.
He did visit his mom more often, and actually try to go out with his friends when they invited him.
He most recently started visiting the plaque at Stark’s Pond; he hadn’t been there in so long, but it was recently cleaned, and he had a belief that it was Kenny’s doing.
And the next time that little fucker flipped him off on his way home from work...
He flipped him off right back.