"Hello!"

"Why are you here. You're so destructive, every time you come you just fucking, destroy shit."

"What? Everything's been fine, I haven't destroyed anything." Hand out. "Give me your mana."

"No, see, this is what I told you about, you're destructive to me!"

"I'm not destructive. Just listen to me."

This is a stupid argument. They have this argument every fucking day. "Why? I worked really hard to get it! No, I won't! Just-- why?"

"Okay, well, if you got it then you can get it again!" Pointed step forward.

"No, I'm a rebellious teenager, I do not listen to green punks."

Then Tommy is going to get hit and his mana is going to get taken. He gave him a chance, which is honestly pretty generous given that it's been almost a month of this.

"So, what are you up to today?"

"You are a--"

"I was going to exercise today, with, with Nick. Maybe George if I can get him, y'know, awake for it."

"Okay."

"I'm just letting you know, I won't be in the library today."

"Have you ever been on a boat or sailed? I reckon you seem like the type of guy who would drown."

"...What?????"

"Hey, don't shoot the messenger, pal, I'm just saying what everyone was thinking."

Wordless incredulous noises.

"Are you the type of guy to-- you seem like a lot of types of guys. You seem like the type of guy that when there's a lemon in your drink you suck on the lemon for, like, two minutes afterwards."

"I don't really like lemons that much, they're too sour."

"You're such a pussy."

Half-laugh. "There's a rip on the back of your shirt."

"Yeah, I'm not very happy about it."

"You need to fix it."

"It's just what happens when you age. Or when you get sad."

"Yeah, we all know that when you get sad your clothes rip."

"Like the Incredible Hulk. But with sadness. I'm the Incredible Sad, that's my superhero name. I'm going to start a superhero comic and it'll be a true story based on me called the Incredible Sad."

Snort. They're at the library now. "I'm gonna go see if I can find George and then I'll be, uh, I'll be at the gym. Let me know if you need, like, help with something."

"Great. BYE."

It's surprisingly lonely, without Clay around. But that doesn't matter. He doesn't want Clay around. Not because he's scared or anything, just angry. Fuck Clay, and fuck Tampa. He doesn't need anyone else, he is a strong independent woman who don't need no man, and Clay's a weirdo who-

Right. Where was he. To-do list. He's got his notebook, at least, so he doesn't have to repurpose the back of his homework.

TO DO LIST:

- repair shirt

- make new mana storage

- *URGENT* MAKE NEW KNIFE

That's... About all, he reckons. He must look incredibly stupid, from everyone else's perspective, walking around with no mana and no knife, needing a senior to come save him like he's some sort of Disney princess. Not, like, Moana, though, Moana's a badass. One of the really old ones, from before feminism.

...Tommy's around without Clay, for once.

Eret approaches slowly, nervously, their hands fluttering and fidgeting with their pocketknife, flicking it open and shut. "Hello."

...

"HELLO."

"I, um, I have something for you." They put the pocketknife back in their pocket and take out a small crystal. "If you wanted it." Hopefully this doesn't get them in trouble with Clay, but-- it's not right. Tommy needs something. Surely some mana storage is fine.

"That's--that's so insulting, do you think I can't get my own? Fuck you. I'm not taking your, your pity things."

"It's not out of pity, it's a gift. Because--you know, Christmas is coming up, I thought I'd get you something."

"Fuck you. I can make my own mana storage."

"It's a Christmas present, not a handout." Eret puts their hands up in surrender. "You don't have to take it."

....Sigh. "D'you have any--like, metal? Or wood, I'd take wood."

"I... might? Why, what do you want it for?"

"None of your fucking business."

Then: "A knife. But I want to make it myself. No pity things. And I'm not allowed to steal. You can help, I guess."

"Okay. I can help." It's honestly probably more effort than just giving Tommy things, but Tommy'll just snap at them again if they say that. "Want to head to shop?"

"I mean. Do you think Clay'll be fine with it?"

"I don't see why not. I'll tell Tina where we're going, and we'll be back before he is."

"Okay."

It kind of sucks that the only Christmas present he's getting is from someone who won't come near him when Clay's around. He's-- kind of pissed off about that, honestly. And Wilbur hated Eret, Tommy doesn't know the details but Wilbur's been right so far.

Eret grabs some scrap stuff and lets Tina know where they're going, and then they can make a knife. Or, more specifically, Tommy can make a knife (not very well), because he doesn't need Eret's help, except for how Eret is very much still the one handing him wood and metal and glue while watching out for mals.

(Eret lets Tommy pickpocket them for the mana storage. It was supposed to be a gift in the first place; if this is what makes Tommy feel better about taking it, that's fine with them.)

Two out of three items on the to-do list isn't bad. And true to his word, Clay isn't around for the rest of the day. Tommy's feeling pretty good about everything, honestly. Optimism and shit. He's got a knife, he's got a mana crystal, he's feeling good. Maybe later he can ask Clay if he can make more mana storage.

Christmas Eve starts the same as every other day, with Clay sticking his hand out and asking for Tommy's mana.

"C'mon, man, it's Christmas."

"...Okay?"

"You are like the villain in a Hallmark movie, you know that. You are like the fucking, uhhhhhh, the grinch, except worse. You're even green. And I am like the hero who knows the true meaning of Christmas. Like Santa Claus."

Clay rolls his eyes. "Just give me your mana."

"Please, can I keep it? For Christmas? It can be my Christmas present."

"It's not Christmas yet. Plus, I already got you your Christmas present."

"Wait, you did?"

"I mean, obviously, you're my friend."

"Oh."

"Are you going to give me your mana or do I have to hit you for it."

"...I guess if you're getting me a Christmas present I should get you one, huh."

"Sure, Tommy."

And Tommy puts his hand in Clay's and gives Clay all his mana.

It... doesn't hurt. Not on his body and not inside, either, like he's a fish being dragged along on a hook all up in his guts and he's trying to swim but just flopping around on a boat, the way it does when he says no and Clay takes it anyway. It sort of reminds him of when he used to do this with Wilbur.

He knows as soon as he does it that he's not going to be able to go back to fighting Clay every morning.

Maybe that's for the best.

"There you go. Thank you!"

"...Yeah."

"--Actually, give me that knife, too."

"...No, I don't have a knife."

"I just saw it. Don't lie."

"Please, man, it's the only knife I have, I made it myself."

"Just give it to me."

"It's Christmas! What would Jesus do, He would want me to keep it. I worked so hard on it."

"Come on. Tommy."

"...You're right." And he hands over the knife.

"Good! Thank you, Tommy, I really--I really appreciate that." 

"I feel--I'm gonna be honest, I feel, I feel condescended to right now. Like I am a dog and you are a man. But I am the man."

"Well." Shrug.

"Wow. I mean--wow."

The silence stretches several beats longer than silence normally stretches in conversations that contain Tommy before he breaks it.

"Talking to any girls lately, Clay, hm?"

"Obviously."

"I simply--I'm gonna be honest, I simply do not believe you. All Clay know is wake up, kill mal, flirt with George, and lie."

"Okay, is that--is that, like, just a you thing, or is that a meme from after I got in--"

"--It's a meme. I--it did not even occur to me that I know more memes than you. I am so powerful right now, I know so many memes--"

"You gotta teach them to me!!!"

"No, no, this is great. I am going to draw this out so much. It's too late, Clay, I've gone mad with power."

"Tommyyyyyyyyy."

"Sorry, big C, this is just the price you have to pay for being friends with someone as incredibly cool as me."

Snort. "Right. The price of... what, learning memes slower?"

"Clay. Clay. You wouldn't understand."

"Clearly I don't!"

"Just wait until I write How to Sex 3. It'll explain everything. You read it and suddenly you're valedictorian, you understand physics and shit."

"You know, it's funny, because it--it actually won't explain sex. I'll read it and I'll actually, I'll actually know less about sex than I did before."

"All the girls will flock to you for your science skills and you'll have to be like, oh, sorry, I actually lost all of my knowledge of how to sex. I read this book, called how to sex, and it's--and they will say, that is just, that is so counterintuitive."

"Do you--do you want your gift today, or do you want to wait until tomorrow? Because I do--I do have it ready today. I know it's not Christmas yet."

"What the hell, Clay, I can't just--have a Christmas present on, on not Christmas."

"I think it's traditionally called Christmas Eve?"

"I know what Christmas Eve is, my point is that it's not Christmas."

"I'm fine with waiting. I just, I figured I'd ask."

"That's, like... actually almost nice."

"What! What do you mean almost nice?"

"I mean. You still did, like-- you're still a terrible person, just because you're trying to give me gifts and shit-- like, you're still not letting me talk to any of my friends."

"What? Tommy, what do you mean I'm not letting you talk to any of your friends? I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Uh-huh. Suuuuuuuuure.

"...............Yeah, I guess you are," he says, instead of that, because he doesn't want to pick that fight right now.

"We should trade homework, I can do the stuff that having more mana helps with and you can do the, y'know, you can do the boring stuff."

This sucks incredibly much. Unfortunately, it's also probably a good idea. At least doing boring shit builds mana?

And a few hours later:

"--Since when did you have mana storage? What?"

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. Tommy shoves the little crystal into his pocket. "Iiiiiii don't know what you're talking about. Me? Have mana storage? Noooo. Never."

"Tommy. You're not in trouble, I just-- how long have you had it?"

"...Just a day, I got it, I got it yesterday evening, it was, it was a Christmas present, please don't take it--"

"From who?"

"Just let me keep it. Pleeaaaaase let me keep it."

"I'm gonna let you keep it for now. Who gave it to you?"

"What the fuck, why 'for now'? Just let me keep it!"

"Fine. Just--stop being annoying and tell me who gave it to you."

"No one. I made it myself. With my own two, my own two hands, I made it."

"Then why did you say it was a Christmas present?"

"Sometimes, you know, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret here, sometimes I, I just say things."

"...That's true."

"...So I can keep it?"

"Yeah, that's fine. We can--we can even make more, if you want. Not, not much more, but--"

"Pogchamp."

"And that can be--that can be part of your Christmas present, what do you think?"

"I think that sounds incredible."

Then after class they can make two more mana storage crystals for Tommy. They're much smaller than the ones he came in with, but Clay starts carving one in the shape of a dick and Tommy immediately catches on and starts cracking up and mirrors it in the one he's working on, and Clay pretends to jerk it off and has to watch Tommy struggle to keep a straight face and insist that it's an abstract art piece, really, and it's-- it's genuinely, honestly a good time.

He decides he'll let Tommy keep it if he gives up his mana without a fight on Christmas. And then night comes, and morning again.

"Hello."

"Merry Christmas to you too, asshole."

"You know what, yeah, Merry Christmas."

He's trying not to get too excited, he really is. But it's hard. "D'you have my present?"

"That depends. Do you have mine?" Hand out.

....Tommy stares at the outstretched hand. "I don't want to."

"Just give it to me."

"...Okay." Handshake. At least he has some mana storage, now, he's not completely helpless.

"Do you want your gift here or in the library?" Clay wiggles and bounces a little on his toes. "I brought it in my backpack, in case you wanted it right away."

"Here, I guess? I dunno, I mean, I don't have a backpack for it if it's big but also, like, you usually walk me back anyway, so..."

Then Clay will take a container out of his backpack! It's reasonably sized, with holes drilled in the lid, and inside is some sawdust. He rubs his hands together while he speaks, and doesn't look Tommy in the eye. "I, uh, I don't really know what spiders like? And we don't have, like, leaves here or anything. But I thought it'd probably be better for them to at least have somewhere to be where they don't have to, like, worry about bigger mals and stuff? I made it pretty fancy, with, like, the sawdust and everything, but the basics were pretty easy. I dunno if there's, like, a reason you hadn't already made it and nobody else made it for you--oh, and another thing--" A chunky wooden cross, threaded onto a bit of string. "'Cause you're, like, religious and all that, I figured you probably just didn't bring one 'cause of the weight limit so I made you one."

"Wow, Clay, this is--I mean, wow."

Bounce bounce. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's--thanks, man. Merry Christmas, mate."

"Merry Christmas."

"I-- Can I please talk to Toby? Just today? It's-- it's my first Christmas without him since we were kids. Please, man."

"If you keep out of trouble, you can have Easter together, okay? Maybe even before then, if you're really good."

"Yeah, but... It's Christmas."

"And I'm here! I'm your friend, too, right?"

"...Yeah. Yeah."