A/N

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Calvin and Hobbes. All rights go to their respective owners.

This was the very first fanfic I ever wrote. It took me about four days on it in November of 2015, and published it January 1st, 2016 to , in honor of the 20th (+1 day) anniversary of the ending of Calvin and Hobbes. Some parts have been slightly edited to make more sense, but more or less, I tried to keep it intact. Enjoy!

On the night of New Year's Eve, everyone was surrounded by their friends, family, and loved ones, waiting for the ball to drop on television, or for the clock to reach midnight. All of them were filled with hopes, dreams, and goals for the New Year.

...All except one, that is.

A young man in a gray suit walked down the sidewalk alone, the Christmas lights from the houses shining down on him. His blonde hair was ruffled. Cold, bitter tears streamed down his reddened face, his knuckles white as he clutched a nearly-empty champagne bottle. He didn't see any point in celebrating the New Year, as if everything would magically get better, just because some digit(s) in the year number changed. There was still murder, pollution, rape, poverty...honestly, he could go down the list he made in his mind forever.

Finding a relatively quiet house to hide at the side of, he reached in his pocket to pull out a small orange-and-white bottle. Much to his disappointment, it was empty. Cursing, he threw it into a nearby snow pile, and downed the rest of the champagne.

The bottle once held what was meant to be prescription medicines that helped with the depression he was diagnosed with almost ten years before, but it wasn't long before he found new ways to abuse them: from taking them with alcohol, to snorting, and even, on occasion, smoking it. True, the 'high' he got from this didn't solve his problems, but it helped him forget. At least for a little while.

Putting the empty champagne bottle in the neighbors' recycling bin, he continued walking.

His body seethed with hate for everything bright and cheerful around him. To him, every house looked the same. But then there was one house that caught his attention: his own. Or at least, it was his own, but when he grew up, he moved away to the city in hopes of pursuing a better life. He and his fiancée, Susie, would still visit their families during Christmas, and sometimes even stayed through New Year's before returning. His parents weren't home right now, and they hadn't bothered to put up decorations this year. It looked so dark and gloomy in comparison to the others.

A fond smile formed at his lips at all the fond memories he made there. Playing made-up games, wasting hours with television when he should've been doing homework...but his favorite memories are when he would take a wagon or toboggan sled (depending on the time of year) out to the forest, go for rides with his best friend, Hobbes, and have deep, meaningful conversations, all the while trying to avoid boulders and cliffs.

...Hobbes...

His smile faded back to tears. He wished that accident had never happened. He was already crazy from the moment he was born, but if he had been more careful, they would've never gotten worse! And Hobbes was always prone to rips and tears, but he would've still been in one piece had he just paid more attention!

Sighing, he wondered to himself if his parents left the door unlocked. After the fight he and Susie had...they both needed some space to calm down.

The door creaked quietly as a dim beam of light spread across the living room. He didn't want anyone to know he was here, so he closed to door behind him, without turning on any lights.

Silently making his way to the kitchen, he began unbuttoning his shirt for easier access to his body while he searched for a flashlight and knife.

He decided he would go up to the attic, as not to make a mess. Not because he actually cared if the floors became stained...with a shudder, he pushed away the possibilities if anyone would find his blood and he'd wake to see the morning light.

His limbs tingled and shook as he switched on the flashlight. As he sat down, leaning against an old box, he debated yet again: was the pain worth killing himself over, or should he just cut himself to cut the mental pain?

If he were to die, he'd leave those who knew and loved him behind. His parents...Susie...maybe even some co-workers whom he interacted with almost daily would care...but if he were to live, this hell he was pulling himself through would last for who knows how long! For some strange reason, he couldn't even bring himself to re-open one of the many scars on his arms. Letting out a shout at his own cowardice, he slammed the knife on ground, knocking the flashlight over.

Tears filling his eyes again, he wondered: what is it going to take for me to stop crying like a six-year-old?!

Throwing the flashlight in a fit, it crashed into a cardboard box. He could briefly see part of the label: "vin's ys"

Wait a minute...putting the words together in the most logical sense in his head, the box said "Calvin's Toys". Could it be?

Hurrying to find where the flashlight landed, he picked it up and went back for the knife. His hands were shaking with hope as he used the knife to rip open the old box. Knocking the open box over, its contents spilled out, and almost right away, he found exactly what he was looking for: a stuffed tiger; well-loved, but dusty from being in the box so long. Pink stitches covered its body; they looked like scars.

He couldn't believe it...Hobbes...was in his parents' attic...this whole time?! If murder were legal...that didn't matter right now. Hobbes finally came back to him, and in the moment, that's all he cared about.

"...Hobbes?" No response. "Hobbes, it's me, Calvin. Remember?" Silence. "Hobbes..." he whispered, feeling a pain in his chest, choking him. "...say something. Anything...please wake up..."

But alas, the toy did nothing. Its blank button eyes only seemed to mock its long-lost owner. Screaming in rage, it seemed all at once his energy was depleted. Curling up into a ball, he didn't want to die, or even injure himself. All he wanted was sleep.

Then, a deep snarl made him open his eyes:

"Well, well, well: look who comes crawling back after years of neglect. Guess being a grown-up isn't as good as you thought, is it, Calvin?"

"Hobbes?!" Suddenly sitting upright, he turned to find a fierce pair of eyes glaring at him through the dark. "Hobbes!" He went to embrace his old friend, but was pushed away. "...Hobbes? What's wrong?" The tiger looked down.

"You left me, Calvin. You didn't even say goodbye. I...I thought we were friends," he growled, his voice filled with hurt.

"I didn't mean to! It's just...we both crashed, and...we both got hurt...worse than usual. The neighbors even had to call an ambulance, you might not remember that, but when I woke up again at the hospital, my parents said they gave you away...'for sanity's sake', they told me. I didn't even know you were up here until just now!" Hobbes turned away, crossing his arms.

"I don't believe you."

"Hobbes...come on, you know me. If I had a choice, I would've kept you! And if I knew where you were, I would've at least said 'hi' once in a while. We are friends. We always have been. Nothing can change that. Not even age. I promise." Hobbes still didn't turn. "...I haven't been in the woods since the accident. I bet at least part of it has changed..." taking a deep breath, he finished his question: "...do you want to go sledding with me? Just like old times?"

After Calvin put the rest of his suit back on, they stood in the only natural area left of their suburban neighborhood: the woods they used to go for rides in. Hobbes started the sled while Calvin would steer in front.

"Let's go exploring, Hobbes!" Calvin declared, his voice ringing cheerfully into the cold, black sky.

"This is usually the part when you say something deep or philosophical," Hobbes remarked coldly as they were looking for another hill.

"Funny thing about that…I think we've already talked about every corner of philosophy over the course of our friendship. It's hard to say something when you've already said everything."

"Okay then..."Hobbes was still angry at Calvin, but at least some conversation was better than silence in his opinion; he tried to think of something else to talk about. "...what's being a grown-up like?" He asked. Calvin laughed softly.

"I don't think I can speak for all grown-ups…most seem to have happy, full lives, even if it's just routine. Wake up, go to work, come home, eat dinner, go to bed, rinse and repeat."

"You said 'most'. If that means you're not one of those grown-ups, then what's being a grown-up like for you?" Hobbes asked. Calvin laughed again, something sadder about it while he did. "…Did I say something funny?"

"No…quite the opposite, really. What was being a grown-up like for me? Well, aside from fighting every childish urge I had in me, having an over-protective, somewhat controlling girlfriend, regularly getting locked up in mental institutions, and over-drugging myself with prescription medicines just to convince myself that none of the pain I'm feeling is real…it was all fine and dandy," he chuckled. "Oh! But do you want to know what the best part was? Feeling lonely. Not because you don't have anyone to talk to, but because you're surrounded by people all the time, but none of them understand how you really think or feel, no matter how hard you try to explain." It was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Out of everyone I've spoken to over the years…I feel like you're the only one who actually gets me. Sometimes, I've even tried talking to you as if you were still there…but it just wasn't the same." Hobbes' face softened with pity.

"...I'm sorry. I didn't know," was all he could think to say.

"I guess that makes us even then: I didn't know you were trapped in the attic for a decade, and you didn't know my life had sucked without you." Calvin stated. "But, look, it's like I said earlier: I told you nothing would change our friendship. Nothing. Okay?" Embracing the tiger before he had any chance to react, Hobbes wrapped his arms around Calvin, still attempting to process everything he said. Calvin stood up straighter. "Hobbes, look! It's that hill we used to play on! Come on, last one there's a rotten tuna sandwich!"

"Hey, no fair! Wait up!" Hobbes dashed after him. He decided not to worry about it. After all, they finally got to go sledding again! That was fun, he shouldn't have thought about it too much and just had fun.

And so they sledded up and down the hill. With each run, they would go further and faster. Though the more they went, the more Calvin would get more and more tired.

"You okay, Calvin?" Hobbes asked. Calvin was looking in the direction of the town.

"I think they're counting down..." he shivered.

"Counting down?"

"It's New Year's Eve, you fuzzball!" he laughed. "We better make this one go super-fast!"

"Well, alright, get on up here then!"

They hurried to the top of the hill. The second the fireworks went off, they went the furthest and the fastest they've gone since the beginning of the night, so much that Calvin lost control and fell.

"Haha! That was great, Calvin!" Hobbes turned towards the limp figure in the snow, laying on a pile of rocks. "...Calvin?" Concerned, he got closer to him, and knelt at his side. A numb smile spread across Calvin's face, his pale blue eyes glazed with quiet bliss. A small puddle of blood formed at his head. In the light of the fireworks, it was only now Hobbes noticed how reddish-purple Calvin's skin had gotten. "Calvin...should we go back home?"

"No. I just want to lie here. With you," he whispered.

"But if we stay out here much longer, you'll die from hypothermia, and maybe even head injury!" Hobbes exclaimed. Calvin's smile only got wider. Then he understood. "Calvin…no…we…we gotta go back before it's too late."

"But if I go back and they see you, things will only get worse. They'll take you away, maybe for real this time, lock me up again, and then I'll try to numb the pain with the drugs because they were the only thing that kept me as sane as someone like me could get…I can't go through that again, Hobbes. I'm usually the persistent type but…I've learned sometimes you just have to lie down and give up. Some battles you just can't win."

"Calvin..."

"You know, Hobbes, I haven't been this happy since the day before the accident we got into. I've been miserable without you."

"…Yeah…me too." Hobbes knew there was no changing his mind. All he could do right now was curl up by his friend, just like he wanted him to. "Calvin? I'm sorry I got mad at you earlier..."

"It's okay, buddy. I don't blame you." Calvin murmured, losing the strength to stay awake.

"…I love you, Calvin."

"I know I've never said it enough, but I love you too, Hobbes. And wherever we end up, don't you ever forget it."