"Come on, faggot!"

"We only wanna play!"

He could hear their mocking laughs echo behind him. Luckily he was fast. He sprinted across the schoolyard, dropped his backpack in order to loose excess weight and used all the energy he could must up to escape the delinquents.

His eyes darted from one direction to the next, he needed somewhere to hide. Trashcans. He dove into the dumpster and pulled the cover down. He sunk into the filth. He gagged at molding cheese beside him, or was it bread? How can you not tell the difference between cheese and bread?

It was dark and all he heard was scampering mice scrounging through the garbage. Then all of a sudden the lid flipped open and the three taller and much stronger boys were shooting evil smirks at the small, innocent Canadian.

He really was innocent. He never did anything to upset anyone, he kept to himself and didn't bother socializing with any of his fellow classmates, yet they still hated him. They picked on him daily. It was a routine, fail tests, eat lunch, beat up Ike, go home. It's what they lived for.

It's been happening for years- since Kindergarten Fillmore and his gang of retarded jocks have had some random hatred towards the beedy-eyed boy. Maybe because he was younger and smarter. Maybe they felt intimidated by Ike's label as a 'genius'. Not that Ike was a showboat or anything, he acted like the average boy.

Maybe that wasn't it at all! Maybe they didn't care if he was a nerd, maybe they just liked the fact that they could take advantage of him. He was a mere five feet tall, while they hovered over him like giants. Plus they went to the gym daily and had muscles- he didn't. He was a scrawny, little boy that was younger, weaker and not nearly as fast as them.

Currently he is drowning in a toilet bowl. YES! He is going to be known for the most ridiculous and pathetic death. Just think on his grave it will say 'Death by toilet water.' imagine that…

He was let up for a moment of air and gagged. Again the harsh, cruel laughter began. Actually it was more like obnoxious snorting, laughing is kind and enjoyable. Snorting is for the peasants and animals- only animals do such fucked up things like this.

Now he was sitting alone in an abandoned bathroom, left with the regular memories of torture and the scent to accompany him. He sighed, "Time to go find my backpack."

Five minutes later he was sprinting all over again- this time he was trying to catch the bus before it road away. Ike stopped and dropped his backpack on the curb, "God damnit!" he shouted angrily and slumped on the ground.

Today just wasn't his day, nobody would cut him a break. They played dodge ball in gym today, he was bruised head to toe. Then during lunch Fillmore slammed Ike's tray of spaghetti on him. He was tripped in the hallway, his books ended up scattered and he was late to class. He got a detention due to that. Then Fillmore and his gang jumped him after school and gave him a swirlie. Now he missed the late bus. Not to mention it's freezing outside.

"Fuck." he looked up, mostly in fear thinking someone was going to punch him, give him a noogie, or steal his belongings. No, it was actually the infamous Craig Tucker.

He didn't bother giving Ike a second glance before he started walking in the opposite direction. The little boy just watched him walk away. Nobody ever messed with Craig, he was known for being the toughest and biggest bad ass at South Park High. He fights, he swears, he flips off teachers, he's just the definition of bad ass.

Ike envied him for that. He wished that people feared him like they feared Craig. That way nobody would give him swirlies or even look at him the wrong way! Ike would kill to have Craig's reputation. Ike's eyes widened- he had an idea.

Seconds later he caught up to the lifeless boy. Though he wasn't necessarily lifeless, he walked with a certain swag- not obnoxious or showboating, but more subtle and cocky?... Confident! That's the word.

"Hey, Craig!" Ike smiled at the older boy. Though Craig was only a few inches taller than him. Actually he was rather short for a Senior- approximately five foot two or three. Not much taller than Ike for that matter.

"Hey, Bieber." he glanced at him emotionless, which then he directed his attention the front of him again. He tends to call 'Bieber' instead of 'Broflovski' because of the whole Canadian thing. It's funny, but at the same time it's kind of an insult…

A few awkward moments went by until Craig broke it, "So what do you want? And why the fuck do you smell like shit?"

Ike jumped a bit and held his backpack to his chest, "I know this is going to, um…sound strange, but I need your help!"

Craig cocked a brow, srunched his nose and stared at him again, "With what?"

"Well I'm a nerd." Ike stated matter-of-factly.

Craig nodded, "Clearly. You're related to Broflovski after all."

Ike gave a fake chuckle, showing his nervousness, "Well I was hoping you would maybe be my-" he paused to look for the proper word, "Mentor."

"Mentor?" Craig scoffed, "You're kidding, right?"

Ike bit his lip, "Just teach me how to be you!"

"No way." Craig kept walking and Ike became desperate.

He instantly stood in front of Craig, making him stop abruptly and firmly pissing him off. Then before Craig could tell him to 'fuck off' or move he spoke, "Do you know what it's like to be tortured? To be ridiculed? To be mentally fucked with? Every single day of your life." he was now growing more angry, "No you don't fucking know! I've never done anything to anyone! Ever! Yet everyday I put up with the same shit from the same fucking asshole. I don't know why, but I do."

"That's not my problem." Craig shrugged. He went to step around him but Ike stepped in front of him again.

"I'm begging, dude. I need to learn how to stick up for myself, I'll do your homework for the rest of the year! I'll do you're laundry! I'll-"

"You'll do my laundry?" Craig repeated suddenly interested.

"Yeah, man, no problem!"

Craig thought for a moment, "That's the ultimate sign of respect."

Ike ruffled his brows in confusion but didn't object to the statement. He knew Craig wasn't the smartest boy, but he didn't need any more intelligence, he needed strength. "Well I respect you. I just really need a mentor, someone to train me."

"I don't know if you're trainable."

Ike examined himself quickly, "I'm only twelve and I'm in the ninth grade. You were my age in the sixth grade. I need you to train me, so I have some form of defense."

Craig smirked, "Alright. As long as you do my laundry."

Ike grinned goofily, "Of course!"

"Alright, so the first step to being a 'Craig' is not smiling. Not showing emotion." he mellowed out easily, "I rarely smile, except with the rare smirks."

Ike cleared his thoughts and blankly stared at Craig, "Like this?"

The older boy turned and stared into the younger boys eyes, "Faggot."

Ike glared at him, "No I'm not!"

"You showed emotion." he shrugged, "Not good enough."

Ike sighed, "Sorry, I'll work on it."

"See me tomorrow at lunch. I'll test you on your expressions then." Craig gave him a head nod and walked away.

Ike wanted to smile but held it in, this is the first step.

The next day Ike was walking down the hall when Fillmore glared at him, "Hey, loser, want to swim in the dumpster again?"

Ike held his empty gaze and shrugged. "Whatever."

Later that day Token ran up to him unexpectedly, "Dude! Kyle got in a car accident, he's in the hospital, man!"

Ike tilted his head slightly, but stayed expressionless, "Seriously?"

"No, but decent job. You just need to learn some sarcastic responces, then you'll be good." said Craig as he walked out from behind a group of people.

Ike nodded, "Cool, so what's the next lesson."

"Today, we'll hit the gym after school." Craig put his arm around the boy, "I decided, a mini Craig is the best thing I could leave behind after I graduate."

"I could even keep the tradition going." Ike added in.

Craig smirked, "The generations of Craigs? Good idea, Bieber."

Craig examined the young boy in front of him. He weighed in at only 89 pounds, plus he was only five feet tall. A midget. "Well the good news is you have the body of a toothpick."

"I know I'm not jacked or anything..."

Craig rolled his eyes, "Plus you're a fucking oompa loompa."

"You're not much taller!" he objected.

"Yeah, but I got the muscle to make up for it."

"Yeah, thanks to the steroids." Ike smirked

"Don't make Craig smash."

"Craig I really should be in class?"

"Stop being a pansy."

"Dude, what if we get caught?"

"We won't, I smoke here on a daily basis."

"Smoke?"

"Well I'm not just going to stare at the clouds!" he spat sarcastically.

Ike moaned, "I don't know about this."

"Here, take a cigarette, light it, smoke it, enjoy it." Craig handed him the pack and a lighter.

Ike shook his head, "No way!"

"Dude, it's necessary. What bad ass doesn't smoke?"

Ike sighed, "This is definitely peer pressure."

Craig rolled his eyes, "We could smoke pot instead?"

Ike's eyes widened and he lit the cancer-stick quickly. A milisecond later he coughed as he inhaled the smoke sharply, "Craig, it hurts!"

"Pussy, just practice."

"Punch! Punch! Kick! Hit! Come on, Bieber, full force! Harder!" said Craig monotonously. He wasn't really yelling, just saying stuff flatly and sternly. He held the punching bag firmly and yawned at younger boy. "Dude, you suck. Even your brother can hit harder than you."

Ike growled and started punching harder, "Shut up!"

"No wonder Fillmore picks on you. It's so easy." he scoffed harshly.

Ike kicked the bag, harder and harder. Craig put his other hand on it, "Craig, shut up!"

"You're just so pathetic!"

"Craig!" he kicked it and it hit Craig in the face.

Craig stumbled back and rubbed his nose, "Next time I better hold it firmer." he raised his brows amused by the angered Ike.

Craig closed his locker door, as Ike walked up to him and slammed the locker beside him, "Dude! I flipped off the teacher and now I'm sent to the office! They're going to fucking call my mom!"

"So?"

"Dude! My moms a bitch!"

"Boo-hoo, cry me a river."

"Dude, stop being an ass!" shouted Ike, now completely annoyed by Craig's ignorance.

The raven haired boy simply shrugged, "It's time you learn the lesson of being a douche bag. Not caring, it's necessary."

"What do you want?" Ruby flipped off the boy standing in front of her. She disliked him because she thought he was a know-it-all. She was in seventh grade while he was a Freshman, yet they were the same age.

"I'm here to see Craig." he stared at her with a blank flipped him off and he mimicked her. She glared at him, "Don't flip me off, asshole."

"Whatever." he shrugged, "Can I see Craig?"

"Don't ask. Do." said Craig firmly from the top of the stairs.

Ike cocked a brow at his mentor, "What?"

"Shove her and let yourself in." ordered Craig as he crossed his arms and stared at the kids.

Ike nodded and pushed Ruby aside, then he went up the stares to Craig's room. Ruby growled, "I fucking hate you!"

"Should I care?" asked Ike.

Craig smirked at his sister and flipped her off. "Mom! I hate Craig's friend!"

"Oh." said their mom from the kitchen.

"Don't 'Oh' me!"

One month later…

Ike slumped deeper into his seat, now sitting in the back of the classroom, hardly paying any attention to the class. He knew everything anyways. Fillmore shot him a glare and threw a piece of paper at him. Ike didn't look at him, he simply read the note, 'Today. After school. You, me, a toilet bowl. Don't bother running.'

"Hey, faggot! Today is the day you go on a date with the toilet bowl!" shouted Fillmore and his friends snickered behind him.

Ike gulped and Craig looked down at him, "Don't show fear, Bieber."

"Dude, they will kill me. I'm still not strong enough."

"Doesn't matter if you're strong, show no fear, flip them off. Confidence is key, bro." Craig slapped him on the back and gave him a serious look, "Do as I say."

Ike didn't show a sign of fear like he used to, he simply looked up and flipped off his classmate. That only angered Fillmore.

After school…

Fillmore had cornered Ike in an alleyway. Ike really wanted to scream, to cry, to panic, but all he did was stare at the fucker in front of him. "You think you're some tough guy? Just 'cause you hangin' out with that damn senior!" he shoved him against the building.

"What if they actually hit me?" Ike asked curiously.

"Hit them back. Doesn't matter if it's a good hit, just hit them back. Actually even better, hit them first. Show dominance, not emotion."

He nodded to himself and his fists formed into solid balls, within the next second he punched Fillmore square in the face. It wasn't the most powerful punch, he wasn't some steroid junkie, it barely left a mark. Yet Fillmore fell back and stared at Ike in awe. Before Ike even realized his actions he was on top of his enemy, beating him. Punching repeatedly until he felt the blood ooze on him- nothing serious, just a bloody nose.

Next day…

Ike walked into school, not bothering to scan the area for sight of bullies, he wasn't scared like before. He wasn't afraid of anything, he wasn't afraid of turning the corners, he wasn't afraid of bumping into older kids, he just wasn't afraid. Actually when he made eye contact with Fillmore, Fillmore looked away. He used to be the one looking away, now it was Fillmore!

He smirked, just like Craig said. Not happiness, but a cocky-ass smirk. He won for once. He was now the bully, even better, he was the one to be feared.

Craig walked up beside him, "What's going on, mini me?"

"I beat up Fillmore." he said confidently, but back to an apathetic stare.

Craig nodded, "Nice."

"Thanks, dude." Ike said as he turned to face his mentor. The older boy stared at him and smirked. He grabbed his signature hat and placed it on his clone. Which made Ike's eyes widen in surprise, "Dude!"

"It's like a symbol, you are an honorary 'Craig'." he shrugged, "Pretty cool in my opinion."

"Cocky bastard." Ike muffled out as he adjusted his new hat and flipped off the older boy. "Don't you need your hat?"

Craig returned the gesture, "I have a draw full of them."

"Sweet."

Craig and Ike went down different halls to attend their classes. Craig was about to skip class when Kyle grabbed his shoulder, "Why the fuck are you hanging out with my brother? He's like six years younger than you?"

"I'm his mentor."

"What? Shouldn't I be his mentor?" he asked angrily.

Craig shrugged, "I guess he wanted someone better to be his mentor."

"You're just a bad influence."

"I fixed his bully problem. Plus he has confidence. The girls are loving him. The boys are bowing down to him. Now he even has a Chullo of his own."

"Not to mention he smokes, fights, skips class and acts like a zombie!" Kyle whined.

Craig rolled his eyes, "No one likes a Negative Nancy."

"Fuck you!"

"Got sand in your vagina?" he cocked a brow and smirked.

Kyle started to turn red, but it quickly changed to an expression of ultimate smug, "So is the next lesson going to be how to find a blonde, hyperactive, coffee addict to date?"

Craig frowned, "Fuck off, Broflovski."

I've had this idea for ever now and I really like the thought of Ike being Craig's mentoree (That's probably not a word?).

Like Craig as a mentor just sounds so right :D