Eric Cartman had grown up his entire life without the presence of a father, but to him, that was okay. At first it had bothered him. Back in Elementary school he had always wished that he could have one or could at least get to know one, but as the years progressed he found that he didn't care about it anymore. He had that kind of ability. He was always skilled at convincing himself of anything. He'd learned it since Kindergarten when the boys around treated him differently. Not because of his chubby size, but because he acted a little socially awkward. Instead of feeling down about it, he had convinced himself that he didn't need friends, and it'd worked for a long while.

Sure, he'd grown up with Kyle, Stan and Kenny- but it wasn't that they were 'friends.' To Cartman, they were mere tools of amusement. He didn't really hang out with them back in elementary school unless they were doing something interesting. He knew it didn't really bother them, since they seemed aware of the agreement themselves. They had never really liked him either, but they were fine with him tagging along, even if he was an ass because, in reality, they all knew that they weren't really friends.

Life was boring without people, even if he hated to admit it. He was bored right now, sitting on his couch and lazily flicking through the channels on television, numbly reflecting on the people on screen. He knew that he had homework to do, but he really didn't care much about it. As long as he wasn't failing, his mother didn't care. Even if he had a D in all of his classes, she'd be happy. That was what he loved so much about his mom, she accepted him. Everyone else in South Park labeled or judged him, but his mother was the one person who was always willing to see things eye to eye with Cartman and he knew that he could always count on her if he needed her. As much as everyone laughed about it, Cartman could openly admit it. He loved his mom, and loved the fact that she loved him.

Right now he missed her. She had been working two jobs recently, and was out almost all of the time. She usually didn't come back home until late, and when she did she didn't really have time for him. It irritated him, but Cartman found that he couldn't really be angry with her since it wasn't her fault. They were low on money, and she took it upon herself to work extra hard for their house. Cartman had helped too (in what little ways he could). He'd started cooking for himself. The food was never amazing, but he ate it anyways so his mom wouldn't have to worry about him. He even cleaned the floors and did the dishes. It wasn't much at all, but it was more than Cartman had ever done for the house, so he was glad that his mother was grateful for it. He liked her praising him for it, even though he didn't exactly smile when she thanked him.

Cartman's dark eyes flicked over to look at the clock, grunting in his own disapproval. He couldn't believe that it wasn't eight yet. He was so bored, and there was absolutely nothing on the t.v to help distract him. The larger boy reclined back into his couch, hearing it creak quietly as he opted to just turn off the television, staring at the dark screen and his reflection in it. The boy who looked back looked ugly to him, lazing like a pile of lard on a soft couch with messy hair and mediocre clothes. He frowned just softly, looking himself over thoughtfully and over his flaws before he rose to his feet. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he tried to push the thoughts out of his head.

Absently, he found himself wondering how the others were doing. It had been years since he'd actually talked to them. He didn't even eat at the table with them anymore, he left school early because his mom told the school he had "important things" to do at home. The school didn't argue with her. Of course he didn't actually have things to do, he just told his mom that he was sick of people at school and made up some story about bullying, and she agreed that he could leave school early to get out of that situation. When he stopped going for half the day, they had gradually drifted apart. At first, Cartman hadn't cared, but on days like these, he felt that he missed the teenagers. They hadn't been his friends, but they'd at least made his life interesting.

"Fuck, when is she coming home?" He growled out impatiently, walking into the kitchen and opening the cupboards to inspect their insides. He wasn't surprised by all of the canned foods and different boxed dinners. They had a plethora of them because it was cheaper than the latter. At first, Cartman hadn't cared, food was food… but after a while he was sick of tasting the same thing over and over again. After the first month, he'd found himself wondering if this was what Kenny felt like. He had almost snorted at the thought when he realized just how much he didn't care.

With another growl, he closed the cupboards again and wandered about the kitchen, glancing into their backyard. He slowed and looked at the grass in the yard, smiling as he remembered how trampled it used to be. Back when they were kids, Cartman invited the others over all the time to play stupid little games. Of course, Cartman was always a sore loser and almost always threw a tantrum when he lost, but by some miracle they always came over to play again, even though they did almost nothing but argue.

Cartman's chocolate eyes glazed over as he was hit with memories, practically watching their old selves gallivant around the yard and yell at one another. He could remember Kenny laughing at them while Cartman and Kyle bickered over some petty argument, and Stan desperately trying to break them up before Kyle got too pissed. He smiled slowly to himself, staring out into the yard as the little figures faded from his site. The trampled and dirty grass lengthened and swayed gently in the breeze outside, dotted with little bits of snow as things returned to normal. The clattered voices that he'd just heard resumed to the thickened silence of the empty house, and his smile slowly faded from his lips.

He let himself stare out across the yard, seeming to be caught in the middle of his own thoughts. He was between clinging onto the warm feeling that had graced him when he thought back to his childhood and coldly denying that he had felt anything at all. Frowning, he sighed to himself and turned away from the glass door and walked slowly back into the kitchen, sliding his fingers across the cool counter as he did. He was so bored…

Just when he thought that there'd be no hope, he heard the front door open. Cartman had nearly grinned, but he quickly caught himself. He tried to appear casual, but on the inside he was thrilled. His mother was home. He threw a quick glance up the wall to the clock, feeling even better when he noticed that she was home early. That hadn't happened in months.

Cartman felt the need to go out and see her, to round the corner and greet her, but as always he kept himself still. He glanced down at the counter and slid his hand off of it, keeping his face blank as his mother walked into the kitchen. She was wearing her uniform for a restaurant she worked for out of town. She was just taking off her apron when she spotted him. A small sweet smile graced her lips. Cartman looked away and pretended not to blush at seeing his mom so happy.

"Eric, you cleaned again today?" She asked, walking past him so that she could put away her things. Cartman stood where he was, still looking down as he tried to look normal. Inwardly he felt warm hearing how pleased his mother was. He didn't care that he was a mother's boy, it felt good to be around her when she was happy with him. However, his pride wouldn't let him admit that he was doing it for her. Instead he gave an odd grunt.

"You left the living room a mess last night. So I had to do something." He grumbled. He knew that he was full of shit, and that his mother must have known it too. The woman came over and wrapped her arms around him gently. Cartman's cheeks flushed. "Oh my sweet boy. Thank you." She cooed. Cartman shrugged his shoulders as if to shrug off her warm thanks, though on the inside he was relishing it. He almost felt a little disappointed when she let go of him and walked over to the fridge. She opened the door to inspect it.

"I already ate." He told her calmly. She looked up and smiled at the teenager. This wasn't a new occurrence, he told her this every night… and every night she seemed just as surprised and pleased as the last. Cartman looked away again.

"Such a good boy." She smiled, though she still continued to rummage. Cartman silently wondered why she was, since she would normally grab something small or simple from the cupboards and eat that. His question was quickly answered when he heard a man in the living room speak up.

"Leanne, it's alright. You just got off of work, you should really be sitting." Cartman looked up suddenly and over at his mother, shocked that someone else was home. In these moments after work, they always shared a moment together. It was never much, but Cartman looked forward to it every evening. He couldn't help but to feel confused and a little irritated that the ritual had been interrupted. He felt betrayed, but he didn't say anything as he watched his mother look up, blushing just faintly. Cartman's warm feeling had evaporated as he frowned deeply at her, resisting the urge to cross his arms.

"Oh Richard, I'm fine. You drove me home, the least I can do is make you something. I'm sure you're famished." She replied back sweetly. Cartman could hear the other man chuckle just softly in the other room. The teenager's frown turned into a scowl at that name.

"Richard?" He whispered quietly so only his mother could hear. He knew that man. He had never seen him, but by now he'd heard about him enough. Ever since his mother got her second job for the house, she called him whenever she had the time, or he called her. Her moments of free time were rare and far between, but it always happened. She'd even gone out with him once or twice. Cartman didn't like it at all, but he had tried to calm himself by saying that he still had the evenings after his mother's work to himself. Now, he felt betrayed.

His mother looked pleasantly at him. Her smile no longer made him feel the same. "Oh Eric, I'm sorry that I forgot to tell you. I would have called, but it was a bit hectic. He drove me home today." She said happily. Cartman felt his fingers twitch.

"What happened to your car?"

"I'm afraid Mommy got into a bit of a scrape dear, but I'm alright."

Cartman's eyes widened, shock leaving him silent for a second. "And you didn't tell me?!" He rose his voice. He didn't care that he could hear footsteps approaching from the living room. "Fuck Mom, what happened?" He snapped. His mother smiled gently at his concern.

"I only hit a tree. I guess I got so tired, I fell asleep at the wheel. It really isn't a big deal sweetie."

"Not a big deal? NOT A BIG DEAL?! Jesus Christ, take a day off if you can't make it! You could have died!"

"What's going on here, Leanne?"

Cartman whipped his head to the side, looking the tall figure up and down that was standing in the door frame to the living room. The man was tall and attractive for a male, a little younger than his mother was. He had dark brown hair and light colored eyes. He looked curiously from his mother to Cartman. The moment their eyes met, he glared darkly at him. Fuck this guy.

"I was just telling my little boy here about the accident." She said to Richard, giving him an apologetic smile. Cartman's eyes didn't move away from the tall male as he nodded, smiling a sudden knowing smile. Cartman hated it. He hated that he knew more about it than he did.

"Oh, that. Yes, your mother hit a tree going home. I saw it happen, and took her home." He explained. Cartman ground his teeth together.

"He also agreed to take me to work until my car gets fixed."

"Isn't that just great!" Cartman snapped. Normally, he would have calmed down enough to make sure his mother was alright, but he was too furious. His mother had been careless and could have damn near killed herself! And she just brushed it off, as if it was nothing. And to top it off, she hadn't even told him. She let some douche bag come home and ruin the only moment of the day he looked forward too. It pissed him off, and he felt rather betrayed by it. His mother looked stunned.

"Eric!"

"Fuck off." He spat, brushing past her angrily and ignoring her hand that had outstretched to try and touch his shoulder. He stormed past Richard, who gave him a strange look. He grabbed his coat and continued out of the front door, slamming it meaningfully behind him.

He couldn't believe this, it was just too much. He knew that he should calm down, that he shouldn't be taking it out on his mom, especially since she'd gotten into a car crash, but he wasn't really sure how else to react. He felt betrayed and angry, and those familiar feelings spurred him on as he stormed down the street, breathing heavily as he tried to calm himself to no avail.

Who the fuck did that guy think he was? He just swoops in these past couple months, steals all of his mother's free time, rescues her, and then takes her home. Then, he offers to take her to work for her? Who the hell did he think he was, some angel of fucking mercy?! His mother was sure acting like it! He wasn't sure which pissed him off worse.

Cartman was nearly to the end of his road when a single voice called out, causing him to slow a little.

"Cartman?"