Craig

Token Black was probably one of the richest kids in South Park. This was probably a good thing because unlike ninety percent of the other people in South Park, his family didn't flaunt it or use it for evil and neither did their son. It just was, and people were used to it.

Craig was used to it, used to being the poorest of his friends. He didn't much care. He was just glad that Token had stopped offering to pay for things because if there was one thing Craig hated, it was handouts. Clyde accepted every time anyway so it wasn't like the black boy didn't get to be helpful.

Often times, Craig was able to ignore how rich the boy was, but it was times like this, when he stood in front of the Black family mansion, that Craig remembered. Token had long since given him a way past the security systems and the large expanse of perfectly manicured lawn was relaxing somehow, what with its winding paths and ornate fountains. At this time of night, all of it was silent. Every breath was audible as Craig used the code Token had given him to get through the gate before walking up the drive. This path, past the trimmed trees and neat stonework, it always made Craig feel small. He'd probably never understand why, but it never failed to do so.

As a couple of the guard dogs put their heads up, Craig waved at them, before realizing how stupid he was for waving at dogs. Even so, they snuffled softly as if confirming that he was indeed who he appeared to be before putting their heads down and going back to sleep. They knew him, after all, he basically lived here.

Using a side door that he had the code to instead of going through the front, Craig slipped past the entrance and took a moment to look around. It was late, but it wasn't that late. He could hear Token's parents in another room, laughing and chatting happily about something. There was classical music playing somewhere, it was all so perfect, sometimes he felt jealous.

But the moment always passed. Closing the door behind him, Craig walked past the roaring fireplace towards the door to the basement. Not that it even felt like a basement, considering how comfortable and nice it was. Glad to hear the sounds of Clyde chattering on about something while a video game played in the background, Craig relaxed slightly. This was where he belonged. Not at home trapped in his own mind, no, Craig belonged here where he didn't have to give a shit about anything.

Traipsing down the stairs, Craig was greeted by warm lights and Clyde, sitting on the couch with a heaping bowl of popcorn. "-not just a matter of preference Toke, it's the best game ever!" He thumped the cushion beside him, scattering some of his food in the process.

"I swear," muttered the black kid from the bar, where he had work from math class spread out before him. "If you say one more word about that game, I'm not letting you play it anymore."

Raising an eyebrow, Craig helpfully chimed in, "Might want to take that popcorn away too. Everyone knows that Clyde's motivated by food after all." Turning around with a cry indignation, Clyde's' annoyance quickly evaporated once he saw Craig standing halfway down the stairs.

"CRAAAIIIIGG!" Clyde cheered, speckling the couch with bits of half-chewed popcorn. "You came!"

"Of course I did asshole," Craig informed the idiotic boy, rolling his eyes. "Did you think I wouldn't?" Walking the rest of the way down into Token's basement, Craig dropped his backpack by the wall haphazardly before ambling over to where Token was sitting.

"Actually, I didn't think you would," Token informed him, his eyes still glued to his paper. Reaching forward blindly, the boy grabbed a can of soda and handed it to Craig, who accepted it. "You were pretty out of it today. I thought maybe you were just going to ignore us. It wouldn't be the first time."

"Craig wouldn't have ignored us," Clyde declared, turning back from his game and un-pausing it. "He likes hanging out with us too much to do that."

"That's what you think," Craig snorted, causing Clyde to let out a pitiful whimper that was, of course, fake but still annoying as all hell. Popping the tab on his can, Craig leaned back against the counter and said, "And for the record Token, I was not out of it. I was fine." Which was total bullshit but Craig happened to speak bullshit fluently.

"If you were fine why did you go home right after school?" Clyde asked, grabbing another handful of popcorn and stuffing it into his mouth. "I mean you were supposed to fight someone, remember? You can't just leave Craig. You never just leave when you agree to fight someone."

Thoughts of Tweek bubbling up and filling his mind, Craig's expression darkened. "I never chose to fight anyone. Cartman was the one who set it all up." At those words, Token looked up curiously and tapped his pencil against the side of his head as if this was the most interesting thing he'd seen all day.

"But you're still going to fight him, aren't you?" Token pointed out. "Tweek that is. That's what everyone's saying." Turning his glare on the boy beside him, Craig tried not to think about the agreement he'd made with Cartman. He should never have said yes, but the fact of the matter was that Tweek was probably going to be ready to fight and he wasn't just going to not fight. That didn't make sense.

"Yeah," Craig confirmed flatly, smoothing out his glare so it more resembled his usual expression. "I'm going to fight Tweek." After months of staring he was going to hurt him. Tweek didn't deserve this, Craig would have even argued that he didn't deserve this, but he wasn't seeing any way out of it. It's just another fight, it's nothing special.

"Oh man," Clyde said excitedly, bouncing in his seat slightly. "This is going to be epic. You're going to totally cream him! I'm pretty sure he's terrified of you dude, he left right after school too." Craig froze for a moment, accepting that information, before nodding. Of course, Tweek had left, he'd left so the twitchy blond had followed suit. Cartman was full of shit saying that Tweek had been talking bad about him. There hadn't been the time.

I really don't want to do this… "Sure, I guess," Craig muttered noncommittally, shrugging. "I fight people all the time, it's not going to be anything special." Why do people even give a fuck? What is it about Tweek and I that interest people so much? Taking another sip of soda, Craig stared at the ceiling distantly for a moment, wishing his head would stop bombarding him with questions.

"Because it's you and Tweek!" Clyde burst out, forgetting all about his game in favor of crouching backward on the couch so he could lean over the back of it and stare at Craig and Token. "I mean, okay, you fight all the time. You've beat up loads of people, some of them not even in our grade, but it's not the same! This is you, Craig, and him, Tweek."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Craig grumbled, annoyed with how excited Clyde seemed to be getting about the whole thing. Can't he see how uncomfortable the idea makes me? "You aren't making any sense."

Struggling to contain some of his excitement, Clyde spent a moment trying to construct a sentence in his mind that made sense. "Okay, so it's like this. You're like, really scary and stuff, right? And you're tall and strong and shit? You've got this quiet controlled rage." The way he said it, Craig had a feeling the boy had spent way too much time thinking about it.

"While Tweek," Token chimed in, surprising Craig. "Is like your opposite. He's short and volatile and scared of everything. But everyone's saying that he wants to fight you and that's surprising to people. He's kind of like that wild card like maybe all of that twitchiness and explosiveness is going to make him actually really dangerous."

Really? Token's been thinking about it too? Fucking hell… "What the fuck?" Craig asked in his usual monotone voice. "That is the stupidest shit I've ever heard." I thought at least Token would be sensible but I guess he's lost it too. Had everyone in the world lost their goddamn mind?

"Actually, it makes sense Craig," Clyde told him sagely, grabbing another handful of popcorn and eating it contemplatively. "I mean Tweek and you seem like the kind of people who would either stick to each other like glue or explode spectacularly." He grinned, as if proud of himself and his reasoning. "Don't you see it, Craig? I mean you stare at Tweek all the time."

"I do not," Craig growled, even though he knew it was pointless to fight it. "And why the hell would we stick to each other ever?" Disgruntled, he looked away from both Token and Clyde. His mind kept turning, however, running that sentence over and over in his mind. Was that why he stared at Tweek all the time? Because they were naturally drawn together?

Just the words alone made his skin crawl. He wasn't drawn to anyone, even Tweek. The fact that he had to make Tweek an exception scared him all on its own, he didn't need to think about anything else. They're right though. If this keeps up, we're going to explode. I know I will, and I think Tweek might as well. That glare promised something, it promised anger and power and a fight.

But he didn't want that. To be honest, Craig had no idea what he wanted.

"Because he needs a friend," Token pointed out, shrugging and going back to his math. "And you need something you can actually care about." That made Craig turn towards him quickly in incredulity. "What?" Token asked, not even looking up. "Don't tell me that you already have someone you care about because that's bull. You don't care about anything and that, Craig Tucker, is not natural."

"What are you," Craig asked, his brows knitting together. "A therapist?" He didn't like the look Token fixed him with, those unusually amber eyes seemed to be calculating what was going on inside of Craig's head and he didn't like it. But then, Token always acted rather perceptive when he wanted to be.

"No, I'm pretty sure I want to go into STEM," Token said at last, as if Craig's question had been entirely serious. Staring at the black boy for another few moments, Craig shook his head and tried to put those weird things out of his head.

"Craig, you don't have to freak out," Clyde announced happily. "Because you're going to fight Tweek. You hate him, right?" He grinned as if he knew exactly what Craig was thinking. "I mean, obviously you do. Cartman and his friends were pretty adamant about you two wanting to fight, just not knowing it yet."

"That fatass doesn't know shit," Craig said, looking at Clyde with a flat expression. "He just thinks he does. He fucking sucks ass dude, I hate him."

"We all do," Clyde agreed, nodding. "But he's setting up this fight and it's gonna be really cool! Aren't you excited Craig, you're totally going to beat Tweek." I'm not excited, Craig wanted to scream, his brain feeling like it wanted to explode. I just want to know why I can't get him out of my head!

"I probably will," Craig said, a weight settling on his shoulders as he pictured Tweek, black and blue, at his mercy and begging for him to stop. But then another thought occurred to him, one of Tweek blocking his strike and hitting back twice as fast, that bruise still on his cheek, a while look in those impossibly green eyes. With an involuntary shiver, Craig added, "But I think Tweek might be more dangerous than you're giving him credit for."

"I think you might have a point," Token said, writing something on one of his papers. "Tweek looks like he could do some damage. You might have a harder fight on your hands than usual."

"Nah dude, Tweek's a wimp," Clyde disagreed, shaking his head. "He's scared of his own shadow. People push him around all the time and he never does anything about it!" Craig's fist tightened around his soda can, crushing it slightly. The sound brought Token's attention around to Craig.

Very carefully, the boy said, "You're right Clyde, he does get pushed around a lot. Cartman does it all the time, doesn't he?" Craig's anger surged up at the words. He wanted to hurt something and he didn't know why. It frustrated him because Token kept staring at him like he was trying to decide something. "That's where he gets all those bruises, right?" Is he trying to get a reaction out of me?

"Oh man, yes!" Clyde crooned, his eyes wide. "You should have seen this one bruise Cartman gave him in the locker room. He pushed him into one of those benches and every time his shirt came up you could see it. It was huge and ugly!" He wasn't excited about it per say, but he was definitely too eager to talk about Tweek being hurt for Craig's liking.

"You'd think that someone would stop him," Token said, looking away from Craig so he could focus on Clyde. "Cartman really picks on him all the time. It's cruel." Craig could feel the blood rushing through his arms and legs and he just wanted to hit something, but he simply stared straight ahead. It didn't fucking matter, he couldn't stop Cartman and he didn't want to, right? He didn't care about Tweek. That's why he was letting himself be goaded into fighting the boy. Because he didn't care.

"Does he even have any friends?" Clyde asked, eating his popcorn noisily. Every bite made the pressure in Craig's head increase. "I've only ever seen Kenny talk to him and I think he's just picking on him too. Who would want to talk to him anyway?"

"He is a spaz," Token agreed reasonably. "Always twitching and stuff." Who gives a shit? Craig felt like shouting. Who gives a fuck that he twitches and screams in class and stares about with those big eyes? Who even gives a shit that he tugs on his hair and screams about aliens? He doesn't fucking deserve the shit that gets thrown at him.

"No wonder no one likes him," Clyde said, shaking his head. "I mean look at you Craig, you spent all of the school year so far staring at him and now you want to fight him. You haven't even talked to him and he pissed you off!"

"He never pissed me off," Craig said softly, the words escaping him without his permission. They just slipped off his tongue so naturally, he didn't have to think about them. It made perfect sense after all, why did everyone seem to see the situation wrong? Even Token, who usually saw through a lot of Craig's bullshit, seemed to believe that he hated Tweek? Why was everyone so dense!?

"What?" Clyde asked, tilting his head in confusion. Frustrated with him and with the words that had slipped out of his own mouth, Craig glared at nothing and tried to keep himself calm.

"Fuck off, alright?" he spat, his monotone voice changing slightly in his anger. "Why are you even talking about this. Someone should fucking make Cartman pay for shoving Tweek around for no reason and you two should stop laughing about it."

"We weren't-" Clyde started slowly, furrowing his brows.

"IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER!" Craig all but shouted at the boy on the couch. "I'm going to fight Tweek tomorrow so fucking shut up about it! It's not as if I'm ever going to be his friend, he fucked that up for himself and I never wanted to be friends with a spaz in the first place." He was breathing heavily and everyone had fallen silent but he didn't care, he just couldn't listen to this bullshit any longer. He felt like he wanted to be sick but all he could do was glare at Token and Clyde with all the anger he was supposed to feel towards Tweek.

Token blinked at him slowly, before turning right back around to his work. "Maybe you shouldn't fight him, Craig." Staring at the boy, Craig's rage faded slightly as his face went back to its usual flat mien. "You might really kill him." He'd thought that Token had heard his slip up, but maybe the boy hadn't.

So Craig took a breath and said, "Yeah, I just might." And he hated himself because when push came to shove, it was probably going to be true. "But I can't just call off the fight, they'll call me a pussy."

"It's Cartman and Stan and Kyle, what do you think they'll do dude?" Clyde asked, snorting. "Besides, you've never killed someone before. Just fight Tweek, you know you want to, right? I mean, what's the point of not fighting?" As if the matter was settled, Clyde turned back around to his video game and grabbed the controller. "The fight won't last a minute."

Finally choosing to settle down on one of the bar stools, Craig turned to the counter. "Probably not." Tipping back his soda, Craig chugged the rest of it before letting the can clatter to the marble surface. But then I might not last a minute either. More miserable than he'd been at home, Craig closed his eyes and slumped against his arms.

In the silence, Craig's thoughts spiraled out of his control. They inevitable circled around Tweek, the source of his eternal consternation. Instantly, his mind snapped to what Token had said, that Craig needed someone he could care about. He wasn't even sure what that was supposed to mean, why did he need to care about anyone? People just pissed him off.

Tweek was just a distraction, someone to make his days sitting through his fourth-grade classes a little less dull. He wasn't supposed to talk to him, he wasn't supposed to think about the bruise on his cheek. He wasn't supposed to feel such a righteous anger at the thought of Cartman causing Tweek so much pain. Things were supposed to make sense but they didn't and he was sick of it.

He didn't care about Tweek. He didn't want to care about Tweek. Why even bother to care about someone when people sucked so much? But why did he have to fight Tweek when the idea made him so miserable. He was supposed to not give a fuck but he seemed to be giving quite a few of them recently.

At least it would all be over tomorrow, he thought numbly, turning his head so he could blearily watch Token do his homework. If he hurt Tweek, then he'd have to deal with the guilt. If he didn't fight at all, well then he'd deal with the names people would inevitably call him. Craig was sick of caring.

But he couldn't get Tweek out of his head.

And he wasn't sure he wanted to.