Away, away by Lar-lar.
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or any of its characters.
Author notes: This was written based on something that took place in an RP I played Craig at somewhere near the end of last year, so it's a little old but still, I actually almost LIKE it so I figured it was worth sharing with anyone who's interested over here Enjoy!
In other news, I AM still working on both 'Clean. White. Beautiful.' and 'Strawberry fields forever', I've just been really busy the last few weeks working on a gift for one of my best friend's wedding and I also had Gomababe here to stay for the fortnight, so! I'm sorry If it helps? There's a one-shot Craig/Tweek/Clyde fic in the making too so keep your eyes peeled!
xox
I can't remember caring for an hour or so,
started crying and I couldn't stop myself.
I started running but there was nowhere to run to...
I sat down on the street and took a look at myself
How far we've come by Matchbox Twenty.
xox
He was out of the house before he even knew he was going to leave.
Sitting astride his motorcycle before he even knew he wanted to get away.
He had his riding stuff with him, as luck would have it, but he thought that even if he did not it would not have mattered, he needed this.
Needed to go.
He had made it down the road, half-way across town, and almost out of South Park before the ringing in his ears even started to fade. He wanted to leave it all behind him, to breathe deep and close his eyes and calm himself but the cycle...
He forced his eyes to focus – riding like this was a good therapy too. His cycle did not let him down. It was not ungrateful of his worries or angry and blind to his wants and it certainly never kicked him down a flight of fucking stairs...
God! That HURT. Every fucking time but he swore it got worse. Maybe it was not a physical pain, more a mental one. He was being broken down, little by little. How could that not hurt?
And he knew that too. Knew that was what was happening. Knew that they wanted him to stop trying. To let it go and give in but...
"No fucking way." He growled into his cycle helmet, eyes narrowing dangerously.
His sister – he used to think he understood how she felt. But he could not help but wonder now if he had ever truly understood at all... She had been so angry, an anger he knew well, terrifying in her eyes. Not because he was scared of her, but instead scared for her.
They would not take kindly to that. He had not either and he would never hurt her. That hurt too, after everything he had given for her to not see this side, to not have to deal with it, and she willingly just walking on down that same road...
He shook his head, suddenly aware that he wanted to cry and not knowing how to feel about it.
Lastly there was Tweek...
God, Craig loved him.
REALLY loved him. That was why he came last – because he did not want any of the blame for this to fall on him. On any perfect part of him...
He did squeeze his eyes shut briefly then – needing to stop those tears from coming because he did not want to stop; suddenly sure that if he did, everything would envelope him and sap what little of his resolve there still was left.
He did not know if that was right or not, but at least when he was driving like this he felt like he had some control. He was going away from one thing and towards another. He was doing something.
He felt guilty for taking pleasure in this – in simply riding his motorcycle through the dark. He had abandoned his sister for this selfish indulgence. And broken his promise to Tweek.
He swore under his breath, pushing the cycle to go faster, trying to leave such thoughts behind.
He found he had this little voice inside his head these days and he wanted to hate the damn thing that nagged and nagged at him constantly... Unfortunately, the voice sounded a lot like Tweek which made hating it not only hard, but damn-near impossible.
"Fuck." He muttered, angrier than he ever remembered being before. "Fuck, fuck FUCK." He revved up a little more, pushing the cycle a little further, knowing he could not do so for long. Or should not, at least. It was amazing how little seemed to matter in that moment.
Did not matter but the feelings remained there. You can out-run the people and the place but not the effect – that remained and Craig had a feeling it never went away. Even if you turned to face them, even if you did that and dealt with them and WON.
They still hung around.
Not that Craig did that sort of thing. Oh no. Even knowing this was the way, he still tried to run. He always would, he settled on that in his mind – he was just one of those people who ran. Ran and ran and ran...
That's not true though. You never gave up on us, did you? You never ran away from me before, did you? You only run because you're scared and you don't want to admit it.
That damn voice again... GOD!
"Why won't you just leave me alone?" He asked, voice surprisingly calm as he spoke the words. "Stop trying to help and let me go on destroying myself." He really wanted to cry now. Wanted to do that more than anything else because he thought he might have just hit the nail square on the head; He could not take letting Tweek down but himself? He could do that.
Would do that.
Time and time again
And what makes that any different to me than this does to you? The voice asked. It hurts you to let me down, you don't think it hurts me just as much to fail you? To try and try and fail? How would that make you feel?
"Just go away, please." He begged, knowing dimly at the back of his mind that reasoning would not work. But he felt like he was going crazy. That between the mental pain and the physical pain and the emotional pain...
He really was breaking this time.
The cycle swerved, a lapse in concentration almost inevitable at this point. He knew somewhere at the back of his mind. These new traumas all too fresh and viral to let them through though.
"Shit." He muttered, leaning away from the miscalculation, looking ahead to the dark, empty road and thinking maybe he should stop – just for a little while. Stop and think and cry.
Then turn right back around and come home. The voice ordered. Come to me and talk to me and let me help you. Just for once, let me be the one who hugs you, who worries about you, who protects you...
"Fuck you." He muttered, actually slowing now, he knew this road, there was a rest-stop up ahead. The store would be closed but he could sit there awhile. Sit and smoke and think and... "Cry like the fucking pansy I am..."
Why do you always have to be so difficult?
"Same reason you have to have a God-damn answer for everything." He snapped back, angry again, but that not lasting long, he was tired now.
Tired and lost.
Craig...
"No." Simply that.
He loved Tweek. REALLY loved him. More than any other person he had met in his life so far. Maybe that was why he could not simply do as the voice asked. He had some pride left, after all. Granted, no-where near as much as he once had but that only made him want to hold on to the small part that was left even more...
I don't want to take it away from you, I promise. I want to help you. If anything I want to build you up again.
Craig ignored the words this time, wondering dimly how his mind kept throwing them at him. How it knew what Tweek would say and how he would say it...
Damn! Even the fucking tones it used were infuriatingly perfect...
Because it is me, Craig. You know that it is and you have to stop this or you're going to destroy yourself. Not your mom. Not your dad or your sister or anyone else. Just YOU.
"Stop." He tried ordering. That was not right. It could not possibly right.
Might as well be, you know I'm right or you wouldn't be so annoyed. It chuckled then, actually chuckled in Tweek's adorable voice.
"STOP IT!" He screamed, the cycle swerving again. "If you were Tweek you'd understand and shut the fuck up!"
And for a moment, Craig thought it actually had. That it had shut up and therefore was Tweek and...
...I understand, that's why I'm not going to shut up.
Craig simply sighed, nothing more to do. He would pull over soon, could see the lights of the gas station by the rest-stop already. He would stop and...
Call me. Please.
"Fine." He huffed. Indicating and turning in to the station. Parking his cycle carefully and letting it lean back on its' kick stand before lighting a cigarette. GOD! He had needed this more than the cycle ride. Tweek would tell him they were both killing him, but Craig figured if one would then the cycle would do it faster.
That thought caused him to laugh slightly.
"Poor Tweek..." He muttered, automatically reached into his jeans pocket for his cell. It was not too late to call – the Tweak house was not a house of early sleepers and his parents knew they were dating now so...
He called up the number and hit dial. That voice – whatever it was – seemed to want him to do this so it must be alright.
"Hello?" Craig smiled. He knew now that the stupid voice was not the real Tweek. This was the real Tweek, the Tweek he loved.
"Hey."
"Craig? Craig is that you?" He chuckled lightly, oh how fast things changed, how fast a mood could be lifted...
"Yeah, it's me. Sorry I'm calling so late."
"It IS late. Are you okay? Jesus, please don't tell me you're calling from a hospital somewhere?!" He chuckled again, simply could not help himself.
"No, no."
"Oh. Where then? I can tell you're on your cell and I can hear a weird buzzing sound..." Craig looked up; the board that displayed the prices of gas was buzzing quite loudly, now his attention had been draw to it he wondered how he had not heard it before...
"I'm at a gas station, just outside town."
"You're WHAT?!"
"I know, I know. Me and Ruby, we had a fight and mom... Fuck, mom she..."
"Did she hurt you again?" The worry and love in his voice at that moment made him want to cry all over again. Made him want to go back to South Park, to Tweek's house, to Tweek's room and cry into his boyfriends' shoulder until all that was left was that emptiness that he was slowly getting used to that told him it was all over this time.
This time...
"Craig...?"
"Yeah. Yeah she did."
"..."
Craig waited. He knew Tweek would speak again soon, he always took a while to process before he spoke and that was painful. Not because it meant he cared any less than he said he did, quite the opposite – Craig was adding to his already epic list of worries.
"You should come back and stay here. W-with me."
"I should, I know." He let his eyes close, listening to Tweek's voice and letting the darkness engulf him into sweet, painless nothing.
"Then you will? Now? You'll get back on that... That thing and come back here? Promise?" Craig nodded.
"Promise."