It Could Be You

Chapter 13

By: StalkerDex

(Author's Note: Sorry, again, for the long delay. I'm struggling a bit getting this story from point A to B…usually happens to me around this point in a story. Also, I've been very busy planning a WEDDING because my boyfriend proposed to me! Hehe…anyway, here's what I've come up with!)

Wendy sat quietly in her room, tear stained cheeks with the slightest bit of blackened mascara painted in. Her long, black hair was pulled into a loose bun atop her head as she pressed her hand to her forehead, finding herself very sickened over the kiss she'd shared with Craig. She'd officially done it; she'd cheated on Stan. After all of these years of what she'd considered to be such certainty and solidity, she was doubting their relationship. Guilt clenched her stomach, wringing it mercilessly as her mind remained in a state of tug-of-war. Who did she want? Stan, or his half-brother Craig? The answer remained cloudy, though every time she drew near a conclusion, the impulse to vomit grew to strong. She simply wasn't ready to face this.

"Fuck," she whispered to herself as she dropped her arm to her side and turned her attention to the window. It was dark and the moon was shining brilliantly into her room. As she gazed at it, she couldn't help but wonder how the evening had gone with the Marsh's. Craig had disappeared and left everyone riddled with desperate worry; how had he been received? Stan didn't appear to be angry with him anymore once they'd seen how wrecked he looked in the cafeteria. Perhaps the family greeted him the same?

Selfishly, she almost hoped they didn't. She didn't want the Marsh's to accept him, on some greedy level. It would make things easier if they all rejected him and forced him to exist separate from them; then, perhaps, she could run away with him. Of course, if anyone found out about what was going on between them, perhaps that would happen anyway.

Her stomach lurched once more. Christ. She didn't want to be responsible for him losing another shot at having the warmth of a family that loved him. He'd already lost one! How many kids actually get a second chance? Most of them wind up in foster care, bouncing from home to home, sheltered by people who never really gave a damn. Jesus; she couldn't allow herself to get between this opportunity. Not if she really loved him…

…and love him she did.

…

Craig sat listlessly in his new room. The Marsh's had put it together for him the day he'd gone missing, which made him feel even guiltier for his disappearance. However, no one really seemed to pay any mind to it. Sharon had simply hugged him, told him she was glad he was okay, and given him a sandwich. It certainly hadn't been what he'd expected to come home to, that was for sure.

Despite everything, really, he'd shared a pretty peaceful and pleasant evening with the Marsh's. Once Randy had gotten home from work they all sat together, consumed a delicious, hot meal and discussed their day. Of course, Craig hadn't divulged very much to the nature of his whereabouts in the hours he'd gone missing, but he did manage to feed them with small tales of his daily routines at school. He'd been assigned an essay, he had a pretty okay lunch time, etcetera, etcetera. Even though he'd felt he was being somewhat false, he did find himself enjoying the evening with Stan's family.

He smirked to himself as he rolled his new computer chair beside the window, cracking it slowly. He didn't want to be too loud, the family had already gone to sleep, preparing for the weekend ahead of them.

As he sneakily pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, he lit it and held the delicious drug as near the window as he could, allowing the gentle night breeze to take the smoke, and it's devilish aroma, away with it.

As he inhaled his much needed hit, he closed his eyes, trying to drink in the entire situation. What a fantastically fucked up and stressful situation he'd landed himself in. Here he was, selfishly sitting in this amazing, furnished, freshly painted, brand new room the Marsh's had put together for him and all he could think about was the temptation of running away with his brother's girl.

"God…" he murmured to himself as he rolled his eyes, took another hit and turned his attention to the sky.

The moon was bright, commanding his attention. He smiled softly, feeling oddly calm as he laid eyes upon it. He wasn't sure what it was, but at that moment, he felt okay. Perhaps the choices he had lying ahead of him weren't so clear, but at least he could enjoy the rare, comforting quiet of a moonlit night.

…

Stan could smell the smoke drifting from Craig's room into his window, causing him to roll his eyes. Christ, he was such a jackass. First he disappears for damn near 24 hours, then he starts smoking in the nice, new room his parents had set up for him. What a dick.

He paused for a moment, staring at the notebook paper he had in his lap. He needed to write a paper about a life changing experience, but he had no idea what the fuck to say. He didn't want to write about any of this drama with Craig. Not because he was embarrassed or sickened by it. No, mostly he didn't want to write about it because he wasn't sure exactly where things were going or how he felt about them. In all honesty, he was more confused than he'd been in years. Not to mention, he couldn't even talk it out with Wendy. She'd been distant these days, and he couldn't get her to talk about what was wrong with her. He was starting to think things might be getting worse with her parents; they'd been having problems for quite a few years now. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if things were escalating at home. She wasn't one to talk about such matters. As surprising as it may have been to those who didn't know her, Wendy was a very proud girl and she kept her affairs private. It was something that he both admired and worried about.

"Ugh," he whined to himself as he listlessly tossed his notebook to the side of him. He wasn't ready to write about things. He wasn't ready to admit that, despite all resistance and odds against it, he was starting to actually, kind of, care about Craig and his welfare.

"Goddamnit," he growled under his teeth as he angrily shot himself up, more pissed with himself than anything, and opened his door.

He felt his heartbeat quicken as he approached Craig's door, not sure if he should knock. Clearly the kid wasn't jerking off or anything; he could still smell him smoking.

"Fuck it," he mumbled as he grabbed the knob and opened the door, though surprisingly not being overly aggressive about it.

He felt a large amount of uncertainty and nervousness washing over him as their eyes met, a confused, yet not unwelcome look upon Craig's face.

"Hey, dude," he said awkwardly, staring at Stan in his doorway. What the hell was he doing?

"Hey," Stan replied, noting the awkward situation he'd so quickly created, "uh…can I come in?"

"Uh, yeah…for sure," Craig stated, taking a drag of his cigarette and averting his eyes. And just like that, his peaceful moment was gone. Figures.

"So, uh, what's up, Stan?" he pried, lifting one of his knees to his chest and wrapping his free arm around it. His crystal blue eyes were piercing as Stan cautiously made his way over to the bed and had himself a seat.

"Not much…I guess I was just sort of bored," he admitted. There was some truth to that.

"Oh," was all Craig could manage as he widened his eyes, showing the briefest moment of exasperation. Stan was slightly wounded by it.

"I mean, unless you want to be alone…I just figured since we are brothers and all…well…couldn't we, like, hangout or something?"

The series of emotions that quickly burst in and out of him were difficult to process, though on some level he did. He was first hit with a wave of eagerness. Stan actually wanted to hang out with him? This is the first big sign of acceptance and, somewhere in his heart, he'd been yearning for it. However, at that realization he was instantly hit with guilt. Here he was, receiving the affection he'd been pining for and he had to accept that fact that he'd made out with his girlfriend. Then came the shame. The briefest moment of self-loathing crashed over him like a giant wave, nearly choking him as it washed through his body. However, once it had crashed it left a sense of acceptance and openness that he hadn't really expected. This is the way life was, wasn't it? Wave after wave of intolerable emotions, followed by the bubbling foam of acceptance left to settle into the sand.

He couldn't help but smirk as he looked towards his brother.

"Yeah, I guess we should," he somewhat chuckled as he finished off his cigarette, lifting his pant leg and putting it out in the usual place.

"Jesus, what're you doing that for?" Stan asked, a little surprised as he took notice of the hole Craig was creating near his ankle.

"Huh?" Craig mumbled as he looked up, completely caught off guard. He'd forgotten that was a weird habit of his; normal people don't put cigarettes out with their own flesh. He cleared his throat as he realized he was going to have to say something.

"Oh, uh…yeah, I dunno…I just do that sometimes. It's not too bad…"

Stan eyed him for a moment, supposing it was probably therapeutic for him on some level; like those kids who cut themselves. He wanted to be the one to offer words of wisdom, however he thought better of himself. That wasn't the way to reach Craig; he did respond well to life-advice from anyone, let alone someone he was just starting to get along with.

"Well…I guess I'll get you an ash tray for Christmas," was all he could manage.

Craig laughed a little, surprising Stan. He had meant to be funny, though he hadn't expected his joke to be received with such warmth. He felt a small amount of comfort settling in. Maybe they actually would be able to be friends. He smiled softly as he continued to examine his brother's behavior.

"So, what did you want to do then, if we're gonna hang out?" Craig asked, realizing he didn't want to just sit there admiring each other. That was just plain weird, even if they were brothers.

"Oh, uh…well…I dunno. What do you usually do for fun?" Stan asked, realizing he was in entirely unfamiliar territory. What the hell did someone like Craig Tucker do for fun?

"I generally smoke a ton of weed, jerk off and fuck around on the internet honestly…but I'm guessing that's not exactly a good way for us to entertain ourselves," he somewhat joked. It was true though, that was usually how he spent his time amusing himself.

Stan nodded his head and chuckled. That was about what he'd expected.

"What do you usually do?" Craig asked, realizing he didn't have a clue what someone like Stan Marsh did to pass the days away.

"Well…" Stan started, raising his eyebrows as he realized how different they were about to sound, "…I usually do all my homework, then I talk to Wendy for a while and sometimes play video games with Kyle, I guess. Oh…and sometimes I jerk off and surf the web," he added jokingly.

Craig nodded, trying to ignore the mention of Wendy's name. He didn't want to think about that right now. All he wanted to do was try and feed the growing connection he and Stan were sharing.

"Well…what the Hell should we do then?" Craig asked, acknowledging how differently they chose to spend their time.

"How about a compromise?" Stan suddenly suggested, understanding that they were going to have to look into each other's worlds if they were going to get anywhere.

Craig raised his eyebrows and focused his eyes on him, indicating he had his attention.

"How about we smoke some weed and play some video games?"

At this, Craig's eyes just about bulged out of his head.

"What? Seriously? You would smoke with me?" he asked, not entirely trusting of the idea. Stan would never.

Stan shuffled is feet a bit, becoming somewhat uncomfortable, "well…maybe. I dunno…I guess…I just don't want to make you act like your someone else for me or anything…"

"Neither do I, Dude. Weed isn't your thing," he stated, a sudden understanding of what Stan was trying to do. He wasn't trying to impress; he was trying to connect.

Stan swallowed looking him over, insecurity clear upon his face. Craig needed to spit something out and fast; he was creating a distance.

"Look," he said before letting out a sigh, "let's not force this. We don't need to be fake or step out of our comfort zones or anything like that. Let's just be real, okay?"

Stan nodded, becoming more at ease. Craig smiled in response, "I like video games, and I play them better when I'm sober anyway…let's just do that."

Stan smiled, almost looking giddy, which somewhat got Craig caught up in the moment.

"Alright, cool…let's go to my room," Stan offered, causing Craig to rise from his seat.

"Sweet…let's go."

And so began the first of many nights the two boys would spend together. First it was just playing video games and then, after some time, it turned into a true love and appreciation for the nature of their relationship. They did, indeed, feel like brothers.

Though, there was always that one pesky thing in the way because, also over time, Craig Tucker couldn't keep his hands off of Wendy Testaberger…even if it meant losing his entire family again.