Choleric
'Choloric' (Chapter one)
Author's Note: Hopefully a multi-chaptered fic. I've already got a vague second chapter, but it remains to be seen if I'll continue with it.
Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, which is probably for the best.
(Tweek's P.O.V)
I'm standing amongst a crowd of people in the school hallway, Clyde and Token on either side of me, all of us watching the scene taking place a few feet ahead of us - or what could be considered a 'safe' distance, considering the circumstances. Nothing particularly exceptional is going on, but a fight is a fight, and, being under-stimulated and easily-excitable teens, it's interesting enough to be a spectator sport.
Craig is, as far as I can tell, beating the shit out of Eric Cartman. Like I said, this is not a particularly surprising event per se, but the force at which he's throwing punches in to the other boy's face (which is, I might note, wobbling enough to create tremors across the ground), whilst forcing him against a locker, is unnerving – although obviously, my view on what qualifies as 'unnerving' is different from most people's.
I don't know what Cartman has done – aside from being his usual, asshole self – to incur Craig's wrath, but Craig's more riled-up then I've ever seen him when he's been fighting - which has been, well, every week since he turned 13 at least. I remembered how scared I'd been when his fists were flying in my face back in third grade, and it's almost enough to make me pity Cartman...almost.
"You motherfucker! You fucking Dick!" He's yelling at fat-boy. "Take back what you fucking said!"
"Ay! Ay! Get off of me you fucking psycho!" is Cartman's response. As usual, he's trying to act tough, but I can tell he's shitting himself.
Suddenly, the audience is parted; a teacher has finally noticed what's going on, and performs their duty as order-enforcer by grabbing Craig by the shoulders and dragging him away from his much-relieved target. "Just what is going on?" Mr. Boyd demands.
"I don't know what to tell you, sir" says Cartman in his infamous 'innocent' voice (he's obviously felt it safe to resume his role as a calculating smart ass), "Craig seems to be, well, clinically insane..."
"What! Shut the fuck up!" yells Craig. He's straining against Mr. Boyd's grip, but not hard enough to completely break free and resume punching Cartman in the face - although I know he would have if he wasn't currently under threat of expulsion.
"Craig, I think you need to come with me to the counsellor's office right away" Boyd states in his usual, controlled manner. "No!" Craig spits. "He deserved it! He fucking deserved it!".
But Boyd is already dragging him away by the arm. He remains in view just long enough to glance back at Cartman and, rather reluctantly I suspect, ask him if he needs to see the school nurse.
Cartman replies that he "might well indeed, Mr. Boyd". His nose is bleeding a little, and he is sporting quite a shiner, it has to be said, so maybe he's not entirely saying it to get Craig in more trouble.
"Guys! W-what happened!" I finally get to ask without fear of being told to just-shut-up-and-watch-Cartman-suffer.
"Cartman said something implying that Craig's queer." Token replies. He doesn't sound that interested, to be honest. "O-oh.." I stammer. "Isn't that just regular for him?! He rips on Kyle worse than that all the time, and they're friends...kind of.."
I look over at Kyle now, who was also watching the fight - along with Stan and Kenny - but didn't, of course, make any attempt to stop it. None of the three look particularly perturbed, or offer to go with Cartman to the nurse's office. In fact, Kyle looks pretty damn happy about the whole thing.
"Mmm" shrugs Token. "I think Craig's a bit insecure." pipes up Clyde, in the voice he uses when he feels he's being profound and insightful. "...I think Cartman deserves to get his ass-kicked anyway." says Token.
People are already heading off to their respective classes, as the bell rang a few moments ago. I continue to stand there for a bit though, still pondering the event. I'm actually quite worried about Craig, and that's probably why my twitching is in hyper-drive at the moment.
Craig can get so angry, so often, it can be scary. Especially for me. I thank God that, apart from in our fight (which was set-up by the others, it must be noted), he's never acted mad at me.
Sure, he's been a spiteful bastard at times, and doesn't hesitate to tell me if I'm acting "spastic" (which I can't help!), but he hasn't so much as flipped me off since we reconciled all those years ago. I don't know whether I should feel honoured by this modest politeness or not.
I'm sitting in chemistry class when he finally returns from what I can only presume was a severe 'talking-to'. I think the only reason he wasn't sent home was because he beat-up Eric Cartman, rather than some nice, none-offensive kid.
He sits down at the desk next to mine, not looking at anyone. He has an award-worthy scowl on his face, and he pointedly ignores the glances he's receiving from the rest of the class.
"H-hey!", whispers Butters, swivelling slightly in his chair to smile timidly at Craig. "You su-sure showed Eric back there!".
"Shut up." is Craig's muttered response, at which Butters whips around to face the teacher again, looking more terrified than ever. I think he's scared of Craig beating him up too.
I'm kind of scared of Craig at the moment, but that doesn't stop me tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He turns his head to face me, not saying anything. "Are you O.K?" I ask, my eye twitching despite myself.
"I'll live." he says. It's not in an angry way, more sort of quiet...melancholy?
"Alright class, we're going to be doing a practical today" comes Ms. Fletcher's deep, toneless voice before I can respond. She really reminds me of that teacher we had, Ms Chokesondik. The one we thought we murdered. God! The 'Sea-men' misunderstanding! I don't know whether the memory of that whole incident makes me want to laugh or cry.
All I know is that it sucked being Stan, Kyle and Cartman's 'replacement Kenny' for those couple of months. What, with one of the group being an over-weight fascist and the other two...well, hardly being very kind to me most of the time, probably being too wrapped up in each other's company to care for a third party who doesn't just stand around calmly in a zipped-up parka, not objecting to whatever it is they do...
I think I prefer being in Craig's gang a lot more. I don't feel like such an outcast with them, and it's only Craig who really gets in to any trouble, so no pressure. Also, it's nice not being the 'stupid' one, I think that position is taken by Clyde this time. The amount of times Craig's told him to shut-the-fuck-up and LISTEN to himself when he's tried to be a smart ass with me.
Craig's looking at me now, quizzically. I realize that I've probably been staring ahead of myself with my mouth open for a considerable length of time. "Don't worry about the experiment." He whispers, "I'll be your lab partner if you want."
I finally realize what he's talking about... Agh! Jesus! Chemistry experiments! Chemistry Experiments equal the possibility of getting my hand melted away by sulphuric acid...or worse, a vial of the stuff landing on my lap. "Thanks!" I squeak.
I think he could read my thoughts just then, because he's sort of smiling, and I feel quite good that I've managed to make him do that, despite the mood he's in. I guess my excessive paranoia has some benefits.