South Park 1. Chapter 1

**\- Please don't tear this up upon sight - **

Dear Tweek,

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I hurt you, and sorry I broke your heart. I'm sorry you left, and I'm sorry I was the reason why. I'm sorry for not being there for you, and sorry for being there for someone else.

This letter is not me begging you to take me back. You don't deserve an inconsiderate bastard/asshole like me, nor do I deserve someone as perfect as you. I just want to explain why I did what I did, alright?

It was a funny thing, you and I. At school we were known as the ice-cold, emotionless Tucker Boy and that twitchy, coffee addicted Tweak Kid. But around each other...our roles just kind of reversed. I'm not saying I became obsessed over the idea that gnomes stole my underpants at night, or you began to utilise your middle finger way more than when appropriate, I'm just saying our relationship was a lot different than what people thought.

I loved you so much Tweek. I still do, and if you think back, really think back, even if it hurts, there is no way you can deny that. Everyone thought I just had a soft spot for you, and you were the clingy "girl" in our relationship... But, shit, I was soft all _over _for you _and _clingy as fuck. Sure, I topped, which may automatically have made me _not_ the girl...But remember when you did that once? You were so worried about hurting me you pulled out after 10 seconds, even though I had practically begged you to do it. And you know what Tweek? Those 10 seconds is one of my favorite moments from when we were together.

So, why? Why did you come home to see me in a compromising position, and justifiably, with Kenny, of all people? Why did I cheat on you in the first place?

I guess it was because of me. Me and my fucking careless ways. I could use the excuse that I was drunk, or remind you that it was just after a fight, but you don't deserve that bullshit. You really don't, Tweek. _None _of this is your fault.

Do you remember what had happened that morning? That fight we had? I was getting tired of it, Tweekie. I know most of them originated because of me, but we had so many I couldn't quite keep tabs. It was always over some petty thing. For example, me ranting at you for forgetting your medicine.

That morning? I got jealous, as you surely know. Tweek, you're beautiful, in every single way I can think of - I don't give a fuck how gay that sounds - and I've always been scared of someone taking you away from me, or at least trying. When you started to get close to Clyde...

I know you were just close friends; we all were, as kids. But from the first day your parents employed Clyde at the coffee shop, and you began to share shifts with him, I began to feel a little bit pissed off at Clyde, even if he hadn't done anything wrong. Not yet, anyway. I hated how you would tell me how work went, but never failed to mention Clyde. I hated how, sometimes, you spent more time with him than with me, and we were _living _together.

I kept it bottled up, until that day. Clyde asked you out; it was bound to happen. Clyde never gives a shit that his _prey_ is dating someone else.

It slipped out at breakfast that Clyde wanted to go out with you, and I flipped out. You tried to re assure me, tell me that you had turned him down with no uncertainty, that you would remain just friends. I couldn't help myself.

I hit you.

I still remember the sound of my fist making contact with your face. The tears that protruded from your eyes. The quick reddening in your left cheek.

I calmed down, but not enough. I demanded that you stopped seeing him all together, which was when you rushed out of the Kitchen, flipping me off beforehand.

I cried for ages, Tweek. Bawled like a fucking baby. It wasn't the worst fight we had ever had, it was just the fact that I had hurt you. Ironically, I did it again a few hours later.

I'll spare you the details. I just wanted comfort sex, some pleasure to distract myself from the pain. I cant put into writing how much I regret it, how much I wish we could just go straight back to breakfast, with you sipping coffee and me gnawing at a slice of toast. No, not the morning we had a fight. I'm talking about that sleepover we had ten years ago, when we were 9, and we made that pact. The pact to always be honest with each other. The one I'm keeping now.

I hope you're happy with him or her (I know you're bi). I really hope you are. I pray to God s/he treats you right, and never snaps at you.

I wish you the pressure free life you deserve, Tweek.

I love you,

Craig Malcolm Tucker x

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**Sorry I just have this headcanon where Craig's middle name is Malcolm. Anyway, reviews would be nice! I may do a sequel with Tweek writing back if you want me to :c**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for re-uploading the chapter, it's just that not many people saw it the first time.**

**Please follow as I will be making this a series!**

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Dear Craig,

I don't think you know how much you've hurt me.

Maybe you have, and you're just _trying _to _kill_ me, I don't know. Or maybe you haven't got a clue. I mean what kind of person sends someone a letter, saying sorry and stuff, after 6 _months_? The only things I can come up with is you don't love me, or you're just really selfish.

I just want to move on Craig, forget about all the things you did to me. You picked me up, let me walk on solid ground, in complete happiness and safety, then pulled it all away from me. You think it was bad for you? That punch fucking hurt, Craig! Not to mention what happened later on.

I can't honestly bring myself to believe you were jealous of Clyde. You should have known, Craig! How could I ever leave you for someone else? You were my everything, and I loved you more than anything. _Anything. _You were my coffee, just as I was your chullo. At least, that was what I thought.

You never think, Craig. Never! You talk about your anger issues, but think about me. I know its hard to stop thinking about yourself all the time, but please just try. I have anxiety, boats of depression and ADD. I really should have been the one getting jealous, but I didn't, because I trusted you. You were the _one _person I trusted, Craig, and you took that away from me! I guess you didn't trust me with Clyde, even though I only was nice to him because I had to be civil for my job, and thats why I know our relationship was going to fail, even before you cheated on me.

Why, Craig, why? I know you've already given me your excuse, but jesus, you might as well have just said you were drunk! That would be a valid reason! I was upset too, you know. The love of my life, and I mean my whole life as we've known each other for so long, hit me. The very man who promised to never, ever let anyone hurt me. How ironic; it was you who did.

But I could of gotten over it! If you had just waited, or called me back. If you came after me, told me you were sorry... just _something,_ none of this would have happened. We would probably still have fights, but we would be together. And thats what counts, right? Well, obviously not for you.

I don't want to go into details either. I just want to say that pact we made 10 years ago wasn't the only one. I also promised, when we were 15, that I'd never cut again, so long as I lived, and was with you. You broke your promise, and so did I. After I got the hell out of our apartment, I ran to the corner shop, and the only thing I purchased was a razer. I think you know where I'm going with this.

I hate you so much. I hate you for hitting me. I hate you for starting all the fights. I hate you for cheating on me. I hate you for not trusting me. I hate you for thinking I could have a "pressure free life" after you hurt me like that. And I hate you for writing that letter. If you hadn't, I wouldn't be writing back now, remembering everything all over again.

I hate you, I really do. But I still love you lots at the same time.

Still yours,

Tweek Tweak x


	3. Chapter 3

**Have you noticed I'm making the letters shorter gradually? Well, I am, and there is a point to it.**

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Dear Tweek,

I want to hold you, kiss your scars. I want to wrap my arms around you, and make you promise to never do that again. I want to be mad at you for breaking your promise, but that would be hypocritical. I want to tell you never to hurt yourself again, but that too would be hypocritical. Most of all, I want you back with me. But what right do I have?

I know I hurt you, Tweek, I know. And I tried, I really did. I know I'm being selfish, and I'm sorry, but I tried to forget about you, move on, like I'm sure you have. I'm sorry for sending that letter, and this letter, but I cant help myself. I know you hate me, whether that's a large or small part of you, but, Tweek, I _do_ love you. I love you so much. I know you hate me for the bad things I did... I mean, it's always that way in stories isn't it? Someone makes a mistake, or does something wrong, and everyone hates them. But I don't care about _everyone,_ I just care about _you_. I don't mind if you hate me, because for every glare you wish to send my way, I wish to send you a hug back.

I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't still be writing to you. I said my part, gave you an explanation. But,_ fuck_, you replied. You _replied. _I've missed you more than anything, and just hearing from you, I could honestly die happy right now. Don't worry Tweek, I wont. As long as I have hope, as you're happy and healthy, I wont leave just yet.

Tweek, you _were_ my chullo, you're right, I guess. But you still are, alright? And you're not just that. You're the air I breathe, the minerals in my food, the keeper of my heart, all things corny and soppy. You will _never _stop being that. I hope you know, baby, that I hurt you, but I promise I too have been hurt, ever since you walked out the door. I will hurt for the rest of my life and it still wouldn't be enough. I will never forgive myself for hurting you, even if I cause myself enough pain that it outweigh yours. It was my fault anyway.

I hope I can at least make it up to you by remaining completely and utterly yours, yet I hope you don't feel the same. I mean, not about making it up to me, as you've done nothing wrong to be making up for, but the part about being hurt for the rest of your life. Because, please, Tweek, just try. Try to move on, stop thinking about the hurt I have brought you. I know this is hardly helping you, sending you letters but,

I'm selfish like that.

Yours,

\- Craig x

PS. Put the blade away. Please.

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**Well, hey, what's that thing down there? A review button? Hm, why don't you go and check it out? ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Craig,

That's correct. You have no right! You say that you want to tell me to not hurt myself, but you can't, because, I agree, that would be hypocritical, then you go and tell me not to in the 'P.S' part! Do you ever stick to your word? And you don't think _I_ want you back? You don't think I've spent every night crying, not because you've hurt me, but because I miss you so much? You act like all you did was cheat on me! You're wrong Craig! You completely abandoned me for 6 months. _6 months!_

Don't talk to me about stories, ok? And don't act like you couldn't care, because you're so consumed with love for me... You said it yourself! You're selfish, so I guess I'm not the only one you care about, and I doubt so much that you do care for me, anyway. Love isn't the same as caring. You only 'care' about me to clear your own stupid conscience!

Oh, poor you! As long as you have hope? As long as I'm happy and healthy? How do you know I am? You don't know how I've been. You haven't been there! I'm pretty sure you worked out that I'm still cutting, so is that the same thing as happy and healthy? I'm miserable. Ok? I hate you, but you know I still love you.

I hate doing this; being so sarcastic! Like you're complete scum. You're not. We all have our flaws. I mean, I'm not going to pretend to be perfect because you aren't. Yes, you're an asshole, and you don't deserve me, and you've hurt me, but it doesn't mean I haven't done anything, or that I deserve anyone else but you.

I'm tired of all this writing. And, I just realised you still haven't asked where I am. All you talk about is the past, or how you hope I will be in the future, but what about now? For all you know I could be dating someone, or paralysed from a tragic car crash! All you know is my address, but that very may well be a crack house!

Craig, I'm not going to write anymore, and I hope to god you don't either. Just work out what you have to do, and maybe I'll forgive you.

Yours,

Tweek x

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**You know the drill...**


	5. Chapter 5

**Dear Tweek,**

**Fine.**

**\- Craig x**

I guess it's all over. No more letters. It was short, and nothing was solved. Just like Craig and I's relationship. I cradle the three letters in my arms, letting my tears soak the paper. Getting up from my bed, somewhere I had ran to after picking up the envelope, I walk out my bedroom, still crying. I knew it. I knew Craig didnt really care for me, otherwise he wouldn't have given up. So why do I feel so sad?

Because I love him.

I run down the stairs, trying to compose myself on the way, but I fail miserably, trying and failing to wipe away my tears. One of my hand flies up into my hair, grabbing at a strand, and I don't even feel the pain as I yank at it. I release it for a few seconds as I open the front door. I would have gone to put it in the bin inside, but I know I would be tempted to just root through the rubbish and find it again. So where am I going? To the dumpyard? To burn it somewhere?

I step out through the door and begin to walk before I collide with something, falling back on the ground. A hand offers me up, and I accept it. Why cant Clyde ever look where he's going?! I stand up on shaky legs, ready to scream at him, before I see who it really is. Craig Tucker. Jesus Christ!

I turn around, dropping the letters, and run back into the house, calling for Clyde, Token, _anyone._ I know for all the sarcastic comments, all the mean words and seeming like I'm on top of him, I'm really just a hurt and twitchy boy in reality, and I can't deal with this. I mean, what could I say to someone who -

'Tweek, just stop.' He begs, and I collapse on the bottom step of the stairs, looking at him with watery eyes. Stop what? Running away? I wouldn't be fleeing if someone wasn't chasing.

'G-get out.' I tell him as calmly as possible, wrapping arms around myself. He ignores me and replaces my arms with his own, sitting next to me. My face crumples as I see he, too, is crying. I realise why. He takes my arm and pulls up the green sleeve, seeing all the scars that cover it. He stares at me, grey eyes searching me for answers. I look down, feeling ashamed; but it's all his fault!

I go to shout at him about this, but he interrupts me. 'Please Tweek...' He swallows, and my vision travels up to see his hat is gone. He's never gone without that chullo... much like me. 'What do you want me to do?' He asks plainly, studying, for some reason, the cream coloured wallpaper. I pull away from his embrace and think. What _do_ I want him to do? It's clear just how lost he is. But I'm one to talk.

'I don't w-want you to leave.' I say after a while. He turns to me, eyebrows raising in surprise. 'Because I don't want to have to -nngh- miss you again. I don't want to be hurt again, if you leave, but that's the same reason I _want _you to leave. I don't know what I want you to do.' I bite my lip, and suddenly a hand is stuck out, appearing centimetres from my face. I frown.

'Hello, my name is Craig Tucker. Nice to meet you.' I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, and laugh. Gingerly, I slip my hand into his and shake it.

'Tweek - agh! - Tweak! What do you want with me, man?' I ask, looking scared. We both pause the act, smiling at eachother.

It was how we met. Excluding the kiss, of course.

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**Epilogue**

Tweek and Craig moved into a small apartment in another 'little mountain town' in Denver. Craig became a teacher, and Tweek became the heir to Tweek Bros. when his parents retired. When their 5th anniversary came along, Craig proposed to Tweek and, naturally, Tweek accepted. Newly married, they settled down in a slightly larger house, and, using Ruby as a surrogate mother, had a little girl, Hope.

The past was forgotten as the future replaced it, but new problems and obstacles never failed to arise. However, the incident had only made them stronger as a unit, and they managed to overcome any issues that came their way. Even though they still had fights, never again did they have to write letters, for all they had to do was start all over again.

The end.


End file.

South Park, Hurt-Comfort, Romance