All he could see is red. Nothing mattered to him other than the fact that Shelly had hurt Craig. Nobody hurts Craig.

Nobody.

Stan felt someone wrapping their arms around his waist and lifted him up and off of Shelly. He cried and clawed at the arms that were wrapped around him.

"NO! I HATE YOU, SHELLY!"

Stan couldn't hear anything. He looked down at Shelly with hatred as she sat up and wiped the blood away from her nose. Stan smirked when he saw the black eye that was starting to form around her eye.

"Stanley! What the FUCK do you think you're doing hurting your sister?!" His mother hollered at him. Stan was set down by what turned out to be his dad who also looked mad. Stan couldn't believe it. HE's the one in trouble.

"But Mom, she-"

"No but's Stanley! You know to not hit your sister! You don't hit girls, Stan!" Stan began to get angry at this point. He looked over at Craig who was sitting on the couch, glaring at his dad. Stan learned from Craig not to hold anything in.

"AFTER EVERYTHING SHE FUCKING DID TO ME?! Shelly set me on fucking FIRE! She ran me over with fucking LAWN MOWER! SHE LOCKED ME IN THE BASEMENT, PUSHED ME DOWN THE STAIRS, THREW ME OUT WINDOWS; and I'M the one in trouble?!" Stan began pulling at his hair and started to cry. He couldn't believe that his parents were protecting the abuser.

"Not only that, but SHE'S the reason I cut myself! She tells me I'm worthless every fucking day! She tells me that if I just KILLED myself, everyone's lives would be easier! She told her friends to RAPE me, for Christ's sakes! And you're not going to punish her for ANY OF THAT?! BECAUSE SHE A GIRL?!" Stan continued to cry more when he felt himself getting pulled into Craig's arms. He could feel Craig shaking with anger.

Or was that Stan?

Randy and Sharron turned towards Shelly with shock and disbelief. "Shelly, is this true?" They asked.

"Of COURSE not! Stan is just crazy! You guys need to put him back in that hospital!" Stan snapped his head back up, but before he could say anything Craig butted in.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ABUSIVE WHORE! I KNOW what you do to Stan! I've fucking SEEN it. You tried to beat him right in front of me before I fucking got into it! How can you live with yourself, Shelly? Really, how? How can you live with yourself, especially after you tried to get your own little brother raped? You deserve to fucking rot in prison, you narcissistic little bitch." Stan buried his face in Craig's shirt, feeling more tears fall down his cheeks.

"Craig, take Stan home with you, okay? We need time to talk to Shelly and I don't think Stan should be here if she's going to hurt him." Randy spoke low under his breath, hands trembling at his sides. He looked up at Craig, and then down to Stan who is still crying in Craig's chest. He walked over to his son, putting a hand on his shoulder. Stan turned towards his dad who took Stan into his arms for a hug.

"You go to Craig's while your mother and I do something about Shelly, okay? If they need you we'll call." He said, releasing him. Stan wiped his tears away before him and Craig grabbed their stuff. Stan grabbed extra pairs of clothes and sighed heavily. He needed sleep bad.

"Do you have everything?" Craig asked. Stan nodded before his eyes caught shiny metal. His razor blade was still sitting in the same spot Stan threw it. He looked over at Craig who was busy grabbing Stan's binder and books, putting them in his school bag. Stan crawled over to his razor blade and grabbed it before he quickly put it in a small pocket of his smaller bag. Craig grabbed Stan's school bag and gave Stan his normal blank expression.

"Ready?" Craig asked, opening the door. Stan nodded, walking out the door with Craig. Stan felt numb. Not happy. Not scared. Not angry. Just numb.

As they walked out the door, Stan remembered that his dad said 'they'. Who is they?

Duh…

They are the police.

Craig opened up the passenger side car door for Stan, helping him into the car. Stan muttered a soft "Thank you" before Craig shut the door. He got into the driver seat, throwing Stan's stuff in the back before starting up the car and heading down the street towards the Tucker residence. He didn't know what to say. He took a quick glance over at Stan, giving a small smile of sympathy. Stan was staring down at his feet not looking up. Craig felt terrible for Stan. He doesn't deserve the abuse his sister put him through. He deserved better. He needs to know what love is.

With that thought in mind, Craig put a hand on Stan's thigh. He felt the soft fabric where his skinny jeans were ripped in the thighs and knees. Stan snapped his head up and looked at the hand that landed on his thigh. Stan gave himself a small smile, placing his small hand over Craig's larger one. The car ride was silent. Stan felt like he needed to say something. There was only one thing he needed to say.

"Craig. I'm sorry about…my sister. I never wanted you to go through all that." Stan said, still not looking up. Craig left out a hefty sigh and gripped Stan's small hand.

"You shouldn't be sorry for anything. I didn't want her to beat you. I'd rather take a few punches to the face than see you getting beaten to a fucking pulp." Craig pulled into the driveway and put his car in park before he got out of the car. "We can talk about that when we get inside." Craig grabbed Stan's stuff from the back seat and closed his door shut before grabbing Stan's hand again and leading him to the backyard. They got to the top of the staircase and Craig gave a smirk. He remembers the first time Stan came over and Craig learned he was terrified of staircases. He lead Stan down the steps to the basement apartment.

Stan sat down on the couch and took off his sweat shirt. He looked down sadly at the little cuts that were on his arms. He rubbed his thighs where the real mess was, feeling guilty. Why would Craig choose him of all people? Stan was a mess. He didn't deserve someone as caring as Craig when he does something as selfish as cutting. He looked over at his backpack, specifically the small pocket where he secretly put his razor blade in. He wanted to cut again. He felt so guilty.

Craig looked over at Stan staring sadly at his thighs. He felt his heart drop when he remembered the scars that spread across his thighs like spider webs. He walked over to Stan and grabbed his face, giving him a small but passionate kiss. When he released he wiped a tear away with his thumb and gave his new boyfriend the warmest smile he could.

"I don't want you to feel guilty, okay? You're going to be okay from now on as long as I'm there to be your shield." He pulled Stan into a hug, feeling Stan wrap his thin arms gently around him. After a few minutes, he let go and kissed him on the lips again.

"I'm going to jump in the shower. I'll be right back, okay?" He kissed him on the cheek before leaving the room and grabbing his boxers and a pair of sweats. He looked back at Stan, who was watching him. Craig gave him a smile before shutting the bathroom door.

Why was Stan watching me? That was….odd.

Normally Craig wouldn't think anything of it, but that seems suspicious to him in some way.

After Stan watched Craig disappear behind the bathroom door, he looked at his bag again. Was this really a good idea? What if Craig notices? He's bound to notice, he's not stupid.

But I need some sort of relief…

Stan felt his body reacting on its own, moving off the couch and crawling over to his bag. He unzipped the small pocket and took out the cold sharp metal. He stood up, taking off his skinny jeans before sitting back down. With one leg extended and one leg pulled up for better access, Stan placed the blade over his skin. He paused, thinking about what Craig would do if he saw fresh cuts.

You can come up with excuses later. Just do it! You need the relief! You need it! You deserve it!

Stan felt hot tears slide down his face as he pushed the metal into his skin, dragging it across his thighs. He felt the familiar pain and the numbness. He was addicted to the pain and the numbing.

Dark red beads of blood slid down his leg and dripped off his thigh from several fresh cuts Stan has inflicted. Tears began to drip onto his thighs making red watercolor on his skin.

"I'm sorry, Craig…you deserve…someone better…" Stan whispered between sobs. He dropped the already injured left leg and pulled up his right leg, dragging the blade down his thigh once again. Stan continued to cry and cut until he decided enough was enough. He dropped his arm and loosened his hold onto the red razor blade, dropping onto the floor. Stan looked down at his legs and his eyes began to droop. He didn't even hear the water turn off or the bathroom door opening.

Craig left the steaming bathroom shirtless, rubbing a towel over his head. He tossed the towel onto the floor and looked into the living room. He walked towards the back of the couch when he noticed Stan wasn't sitting there anymore, but his eyes widened in horror when he saw Stan crying with blood stained legs. He quickly ran towards Stan and hunched down to his level.

"Holy shit! Stan what the fuck did you-" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the bloody razor blade. He couldn't believe what was happening. Why? Why did he cut himself?

"Stan, why did you cut yourself?" Craig asked in a panic, lifting Stan's face. Stan began to bawl when he saw Craig's face. Craig cursed under his breath and lifted Stan up bridal style, carrying him to the tub. He placed Stan in the bath tub and worked to take his briefs off a long with his shirt. He quickly turned the warm water on before grapping cleaning supplies from underneath the sink. Stan started to calm down a little, although still crying. He began wiping away his tears as the water filled the tub. Craig turned around and looked at the tub in horror. There was blood all over the edge of the bathtub and the water was turning red. It looked like a murder scene. How much blood was coming out of Stan's legs?

Once the tub was filled just enough, Craig turned off the water and grabbed a wash cloth before kneeling beside the tub. He wet the cloth and began patting Stan's wounds.

"Craig…I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this." Stan said, still sniffling. Craig looked up at Stan before going back to cleaning his poor legs.

"What do you mean by 'you don't deserve this'?" Craig asked, wringing out the wet wash cloth. He was going to have to empty the tub and fill it with fresh water. Good thing his family has a huge hot water tank.

"You deserve someone who's…happy." Craig felt his heart sink even more at those words. Even with Craig, Stan isn't happy?

"You're not happy even with me?" Craig blurted out. He immediately regretted saying that as Stan began to cry again.

"No I AM happy with you! I'm just saying you deserve someone who doesn't have all these scars." Stan spoke. Wiping more tears away. "My scars are disgusting. I'm disgusting." Craig squeezed the cloth and forced Stan to look at him.

"No, Stan. You're NOT disgusting. Your scars aren't either. Stan, There's not one part of your body or your being that is disgusting. I wouldn't even have such strong feeling for you if I thought otherwise." Craig spoke. Stan's eyes were red and puffy from the crying, but they were wide as if he wasn't expecting to hear what he had just heard.

"Stan, I love you." Craig said, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Stan's petal like ones. Stan sighed into the kiss. Craig gave him a few more soft and gentle kisses before slowly pulling away.

"Don't you ever think you're disgusting, Stan. You just need to know what happiness is." Craig said before looking down at the water. It was completely red but his thighs weren't bleeding as bad anymore. Thank God, he doesn't need stitches.

"I need to change the water though." Craig said, pulling up the plug to let the water drain. Stan looked down at his mutilated legs, softly running his fingertips over his scares and newly made wounds.

"You love me?" Stan asked out of the blue. Craig glanced up at Stan with eyebrows furrowed.

"Duh." He said with his straight face. Stan grinned and laughed a little at Craig's reaction to the question. It was so blunt and straight faced but so like Craig.

Craig smiled when he watched Stan giggle. He never knew why he loved seeing Stan smile so much but now he knows. Stan Marsh doesn't smile as much as he used to.

Craig began to fill the bath tub up with fresh water and continued to clean his legs. He grabbed the shampoo and put a little in his hands before he smothered Stan's head with the soap. Stan grunted in frustration.

"I can do that, you know." Stan said, trying to do it himself. Craig pushed his hands away.

"No. You just sit there." Craig demanded. Stan rolled his eyes and looked down at his thighs again. The water had a very very light pink tint to it, but nothing to be worried about. Stan lent forward and pushed the nob in to turn the water off. Once he sat back again, Craig covered Stan's eyes as he dumped the cup of water over his soap lathered black hair. The feeling of warm water running down his spine felt really good against Stan's skin. He shuddered at the feeling. Then he began to remember the feeling of Craig's warm breath against his neck.

Oh god….

Stan slapped himself internally. The last thing he needs is a boner while Craig is taking care of him. He watched Craig reach for the body wash and lather the wash cloth with it. He began washing Stan's arms and lifted them up to wash his arm pits, tickling him. Stan giggled a little before he turned to Craig with a somewhat serious face.

"Craig, seriously I can wash myself." Craig didn't pay any attention to him as he washed his legs gently. Stan winced slightly and decided it was completely useless. Just let Craig do what Craig wants.

After Stan's bath, Craig unplugged the bath tub and wrapped Stan's arms around his neck and put his arms underneath his legs, lifting him up bridal style again before placing him on the toilet seat. He grabbed a towel from the cupboard and gently dried Stan's hair. He then began drying his body and moved down to the most important part which was his legs. He dabbed his legs dry and grabbed the wash cloth from earlier, giving it a little rubbing alcohol. He looked up at Stan with a sympathetic look.

"This is going to sting a little." Craig warned. Stan nodded in approval before wincing once Craig began dabbing his leg. He did the same with the other leg and wrapped both thighs with bandage. Once he wrapped his legs he grabbed a clean pair of Stan's boxer briefs. He was too tired to find a shirt for him so he just grabbed the shirt he himself was going to wear. Stan stood up, wobbling a little while Craig helped him into his boxers. Craig opened up the large t shirt and looked down at Stan.

"Lift your arms up." He commanded. Stan complied, lifting his arms up as Craig slid the shirt over Stan's head and his arms went through the holes. Stan didn't need to do much adjusting as the shirt was already big enough, going down to the middle of his thighs. Stan ruffled his still damp hair with his hands, leading the way out of the bathroom.

Stan's eyebrows furrowed as he began to feel dizzy before his vision went dark and he toppled over. Craig quickly caught him and lied him down on the floor.

"Stan? Hey Stan! Stan! Wake up!" Craig hollered. Stan's eyes opened a little and Craig sighed with relief. Stan being emotionally exhausted on top of getting out of a hot bath is obviously what made him pass out. Stan looked up at Craig confused before he put a hand to his forehead.

"I'm taking you to bed." Craig said. Stan groaned, not comprehending what happened.

"What happened?" Stan asked. Craig shushed him, picking him up bridal style again. It's pretty easy to pick him considering how fucking light Stan is. He's got to be no more than 115lbs.

"You just passed out. It's okay though, I'll take you to bed. You're probably really tired and emotionally exhausted, huh?" Craig said, kicking his bedroom door open. Stan hummed in response while Craig lied Stan down in his bed, pulling the covers up over Stan. He planted a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be right back." Craig said, leaving the room. He grabbed Stan's shirt and boxers in the bathroom and moved into the living room where his jeans were. Once he picked up his jeans, his eyes landed on that bloody razor blade. What should he do with it? Hide it? Throw it away? He knows Stan is addicted to cutting, so he needs to treat it as such. He leant down and grabbed the blade. If he hides it, Stan is bound to find it. If he throws it away….

"No, I'm throwing it out." Craig whispered. For the time being, he put the razor blade in his school bag. That's last place Stan will look before Craig finds a dumpster or something.

He threw Stan's clothes in the laundry room before going back into the room. He shut the door softly and could here Stan's soft breathing.

Good. He's asleep.

Craig approached the bed, looking down at Stan's soft pale face. Stan is absolutely beautiful with his long lashes and soft pink lips. Even the way the moon light aluminates his pale skin, which is as white as the purest snow. Craig smiled as he pulled up the sheets and comforter, sliding in next to Stan and wrapping his arms around Stan's waist protectively. He planted a kiss against his temple before sleep took him over.

He never wants to let him go.

xXx

Hey guys! Sorry for such a long delay! I've been really busy. ^^'

One more chapter to go! Thank you guys for the love and support!

xoxo

[:everlasting-luv:]