A/N: Wow, I got a lot of answers! *is very excited* I loved hearing about all of those things. Honestly, most of the ships you guys brought up were other ones that I've always wrinkled my nose at. I mean, I hate being picky, but some people just shouldn't be shipped together. It's funny, a lot of people just can't see Cartman with anyone.
So yeah, I'm writing this yesterday technically, but never fear, I also wrote two more chapters today because DAFTYPHUN DID A PIECE OF FAN ART AHHHH!
Okay, but seriously, this thing is beautiful and I'm crying. I find it funny that the chapter that I felt was the most filleryish totally captured all of you. Seriously, check it out, it's on my Tumblr, which is under the same name as this account.
So yeah, you're up to three extra chapters~!
Enjoy.
Rolling his pencil around between his lips, Craig stared at the clock, bored yet still on edge. He had a feeling something was going to happen, why else would Kenny want him in his costume. Still, the boy wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. After all, it was kind of weird being the only one with wooden knives strapped to his belt and a cloak on.
Even though there were several other kids in detention with him, Mr. Mackey's full attention was on Craig. His brows were furrowed in suspicion and he kept tapping the desk with a finger, like he was trying to be intimidating. If he was, he was failing miserably. Although considering what Craig had been forced to deal with that day, maybe he wasn't the best judge of what was scary and what wasn't.
Forcing back the nigh-uncontrollable urge to flip the man off, Craig shifted his attention to the clock. If Tweek was indeed headed for the forest, he should be halfway across town by now. Remembering how well he'd done in the forest the day before, Craig almost found a smile creeping onto his face. Despite Tweek scaring him by almost falling, he'd done spectacularly. Granted the Trees on that side of South Park were pretty easy to climb, but he'd still performed better than Craig would have anticipated.
Now that his mind had found this particular groove to travel along, the Noirette found himself thinking about the other parts of that day. He had an image in his head, one of Tweek ahead and above him, silhouetted in the sun that always seemed to set too early. Backlit as Tweek had been, Craig hadn't been able to see his features, but he had seen the outline of a fierce Barbarian, one who could do anything. In the light, he'd looked like one of the stars that Craig knew so well, glowing and bright and full to bursting with power.
It was a shame he wouldn't be able to see that today. No, today he was stuck in here with Mr. Mackey and a host of other students he could care less about. Snorting, Craig rolled his pencil between his teeth, listening to the soft clack clack clack it made against the enamel. Narrowing his eyes at him, as if this was somehow suspicious, Mr. Mackey slowly reached over for his Walkie Talky.
"Hall monitors, yes, how's everything looking down there? Anything suspicious?" Rolling his eyes at how seriously the Counselor took his job, Craig slowly let his head slip off of his hand till it thunked against the tabletop. Looking at the seat beside him, Craig imagined Tweek was sitting there and felt marginally less bored. After all, it was easy to picture Tweek in his usual combination of rumpled jeans and awkwardly buttoned shirt, twitching and glancing his way every few seconds as if to make sure he was still there.
"Everything looks good here Mr. Mackey," one of the Hall monitors responded, his voice sounding crackly through the speaker. "Don't know why you're worried about it, but no one is breaking in today." Click, clack, click. Craig's pencil left faint squiggly trails of graffiti behind it as he constructed an image of Tweek to keep him company. Soft, wild, blond hair, perfect for running your hands through... Big dark circles, because he never sleeps at night, there are too many monsters…
"M'kay, well keep looking," Mr. Mackey said slowly, still staring at Craig as if expecting the boy to jump up and run away. "We wouldn't want anything happening, would we?"
"If you're talking to me, I have no idea what's going on either," Craig called lazily, letting out a breath of air. In his mind's eye, he could see his imagined version of Tweek freak out and scream because why would you talk to a teacher like that man? Of course, then he'd pat the boy's head and he'd calm down. His pinched expression would soften, and his eyes would take on some of that childlike innocence that made them so wide and expressive.
"I wasn't talking to you Craig, m'kay?" Mr. Mackey said contemptibly, narrowing his eyes further, which basically left him looking like he was squinting at the Noirette. "Unless I should be talking to you. Is there something you'd like to tell me, Craig?" Sucking in his cheek, Craig straightened his head, looking over at Mr. Mackey.
"Yeah, you're an ass." He put his head back down then, literally unable to give less of a shit. It was true after all, Mr. Mackey and his stupid ideas of who was and wasn't at fault and who Tweek could and couldn't hang out with could all collectively drop dead. Of course, the Counselor didn't feel the same.
"Craig Tucker do I need to make this two hour's detention?" he demanded, his brows furrowing and shooting up at the same time, an impressive feat to be honest. "Because I can and will, m'kay. You're only hurting yourself." Wanting to say more, just to piss Mr. Mackey off further, Craig started to open his mouth, but then he thought of Tweek, probably preparing for battle right now and terrified without him and the Noirette shut his mouth again.
"Mmm, that's what I thought," Mr. Mackey said, crossing his arms and leaning back.
From the Walkie Talky, there was a burst of static, which drew the Counselor's attention off of Craig for a moment as he grabbed the device. "Um, Mr. Mackey, don't want to alarm you or anything but the doors that lead into the gym are unlocked." The Hall monitor's words drew Craig's attention, if only minutely. He didn't particularly care, but anything was better than sitting here bored for the next hour.
"Hmmm," Mr. Mackey turned another glare at Craig, who just gave him a bored look in return as if to say you expect me to know why every fucking thing in this place happens? As if able to read Craig's expression, at least somewhat, the man slowly said, "Well, I don't think there's anything to worry about just yet, m'kay. Just, uh, lock the doors for now and see what happens, got that?"
"Yes sir," the boy on the other end said, followed the sounds of footsteps. It was this, of all things, that drew Craig's attention. Though not many people would have been able to pick up on it, after every step the Hall monitor took, there was the slightly off-kilter sound of another step. It could have been an echo, but Craig knew that gait well enough to know it wasn't.
What the fuck is Tweek doing in the school?
"Okay sir, the doors are locked- Hey, what are you doing in here?!" Craig's eyes widened as there was a growl and then the sound of someone falling to the ground. Straightening in his seat, Craig strained to pick out the tell-tale sounds of Tweek motherfucking Tweak, who had somehow broken into the school and had just knocked out a Hall monitor.
Mr. Mackey stared at his Walkie Talky in horror as on the other end Tweek let out a screech before exclaiming, "Oh Jesus! I think I killed him! H-he's not playing the game, he doesn't know the rules, what do I do?!"
Struggling to pull himself out of his daze, Mr. Mackey suddenly barked, "All Hall monitors to the gym, m'kay? There appear to be intruders. I want them taken care of right now, m'kay? I don't want them to get away!"
Forgetting his own safety for a moment, Craig leaned forward and called out, "Tweek, if you can hear me, they're after you!"
"Craig!" the boy yelped, his voice sounding static coming through the Walkie Talky.
"Now listen here young man," Mr. Mackey said, sounding frustrated. "This is exactly what I was talking about! You are letting bad influences get the best of you! I want you to put down your weapons and not fight, m'kay? This doesn't have to get any worse."
"Shit, Tweek, we're about to have company. Don't listen to him, kill the connection." At the sound of Terry's voice, Craig suddenly understood what was going on. They're all here to break me out, aren't they? Suddenly feeling something in him lift, Craig clenched his fists and stared at the Walkie Talky like it was Tweek himself.
"I'm right here waiting for you, you're going to be fine." Mr. Mackey looked angry, but there wasn't much he could do to stop Craig. As the sounds of footsteps rushed by the cafeteria, the Noirette prayed he was right and let himself settle once more. There was a sudden burst of static and then all they could hear were the sounds of the other boys running.
"Goddamnit!" Glaring at Craig, Mr. Mackey pointed a finger at him and said, "Craig Tucker, I can not believe you. This is not appropriate behavior, m'kay? This detention is a punishment, you are not getting out of here, I don't care how many of your little friends are coming. You are being very foolish and this is having a bad influence on Tweek, m'kay?" He seemed to have forgotten there were other kids in the room, who were all staring at them in slack-jawed wonder.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Craig raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, "You have no idea what Tweek needs." He could hear the sounds of fighting coming through the Walkey Talky, probably because Mr. Mackey didn't know how to turn it off, but he ignored them. He wasn't sure when he became an expert on what Tweek did or didn't need, but Craig sure as hell knew more than Mr. Mackey ever would.
"He doesn't need you leading him into things like this!" Mr. Mackey insisted, thumping his desk. "You are a bad influence, m'kay, and I don't think that you know what Mr. Tweek needs either! Last I remember Craig, you were beating him up. What makes you think that you know better than I do?"
Feeling frustration well up inside him, Craig leaned forward and said, "Because unlike you, I happen to care." Though he didn't really register it, the moment he'd said the word, something in his mind slid into place. Because even though Craig didn't care about anything, even though he'd never thought it through or put it into words, he cared about Tweek. Of all the people he knew, of all the people he tolerated, of all the people he even mildly enjoyed, Tweek was different because Craig didn't just tolerate or enjoy or even like him, he cared and that changed everything.
But neither he nor Mr. Mackey fully understood what a revelation this was because it was at that moment that through the Walkie Talky, someone yelled, "Sir, they got away from us! They're headed for you now. We'll try to have the rest of our officers head them off!" Distracted from his conversation with Craig, Mr. Mackey picked up the device.
"How many did we lose?" he demanded, holding the thing tightly enough to make it squeak. "Damnit, you Hall monitors are useless! There's a reason I keep you around, m'kay and I need you to do your job for once and catch these people." Craig clenched his desk, his eyes fixed on a spot above Mr. Mackey's head. Come on Tweek; don't let it get to you. Fight!
"We lost seven," another voice reported, his voice fading in and out as he ran. Craig wished that he could hear Tweek's voice, just to make sure that the boy was still okay, but he had no way of making the boy understand that. "We've managed to head them off at the gate; we should be able to make them take the long way around."
Mr. Mackey let out a string of words that didn't even sound like cursing but probably were to him. "This shouldn't be hard, why are they getting so many of you?" That's because you're dealing with a Barbarian and his band of warriors. You have no idea what's coming. Turning in his seat, Craig stared at the cafeteria door, listening as he heard the sounds of fighting coming from outside. He's doing fine, I know he is. I believe in him.
"You don't understand Mr. Mackey!" The Walkie Talky crackled as no doubt another one was destroyed. "They've all got swords and bows and magic! One of them has a frying pan even! They're monsters, I'm telling you." Feeling a swell of pride at that, Craig couldn't help the flash of a grin that lit his eyes up.
"It's not a –ngh- frying pan!" Tweek suddenly exclaimed, his voice coming through the speakers, bringing Craig's head back around to the front. "It's a club!" There were the sounds of yelling for a moment, and Craig was pretty sure he could hear several other voices in the mix, but a moment later, there was another crackle and Tweek exclaimed, "Craig, th-they closed off the hallway! There's so many of them! We've got to get t-to the forest man!"
"You're doing fine dude," Craig said evenly, not letting any of the emotions inside him show in his voice. Picturing Tweek in front of him, which his worried face and pot clutched in his small hands, Craig closed his eyes and said, "Come on, I know you can do this. They don't know how to handle you. Just go the long way around. They'll be waiting for you but-"
"I won't have you two talking!" Mr. Mackey interrupted, trying to take charge. "Craig, you are in detention and Tweek, you are going to be in detention as well as soon as I tell Principal Victoria about this, m'kay? You are both in big trouble and I want this to stop instantly." Swallowing back his desire to just get to his feet and leave the cafeteria by force, Craig firmly repeated in his mind, Don't let him get to you, Tweek, don't let him scare you.
"Then let our Thief go," a different voice said calmly. Recognizing William, Craig ground his teeth but didn't say anything. Just because he wanted to talk to Tweek didn't mean he had to. "We don't want any more trouble than you do Mr. Mackey, but this is unreasonable." Mr. Mackey made a sound of protest at that, as if offended that anyone would call him unreasonable.
"I am not being unreasonable, m'kay? Craig broke the rules and now he's sitting out his time in detention. Now I want you all to stop playing this silly game and put down your weapons." Mr. Mackey looked like he wanted to strangle Craig, for which Craig honestly didn't blame him. "All of you are going to get detention if this continues!"
"Then –grr- give us detention!" Tweek suddenly exclaimed, his voice loud like he was holding the Walkie Talky to his mouth. "We don't c-care! We're gonna come and get Craig, just try and stop us!" There were the sounds of cheering before this Walkie Talky too went dead. Feeling his spirits soaring, Craig feigned calm by lacing his fingers behind his head and leaning back, staring at Mr. Mackey, who was practically pulsing with rage.
"All Hall monitors, stop them!" Mr. Mackey yelled, his spectacles slipping down his face. "I want them in this detention hall right now, m'kay? All of them! They are going to join Craig and finish his detention because I have had it with this nonsense, m'kay?" Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Mr. Mackey added, "And don't think you're getting away with anything Craig, I know you told them to come here and I won't tolerate that!"
Spreading his hands wide, Craig said, "I never told them to do anything. Tweek does what he wants." It was true, and Craig was distinctly glad that it was. He knew what Token had said earlier, about how he was going to end up entirely taking over Tweek's life, and he knew that this was proof it wasn't true. Tweek could do things on his own, hell, he could do anything. Maybe it took a bit more pushing than other people but he did it and he did it better than anyone else could ever hope to do it. Craig believed that; he believed in Tweek.
"Do you think I'm going to believe that Craig Tucker?!" Mr. Mackey demanded, planting his hands on his table. "Tweek Tweak used to be a wonderful boy who didn't do anything wrong, m'kay, and you ruined that. Sure there were a few incidents but those were accidents. You are ruining his life and you refuse to acknowledge it!"
"Of course I do," Craig answered back flatly, his voice rising in volume as the sounds of fighting got louder. Above the din, he could hear Tweek's screams of frustration and possibly fear as he fought and it made Craig's inside's clench. "Because it isn't true. Tweek needs help and no one else is going to give it to him. He wasn't wonderful, he was a wreck."
"So that's what this is then," Mr. Mackey asked, frustrated. "Some sort of attempt to fix him? Well, guess what Craig, you can't just fix people, m'kay? And you're too young to be trying anyway. If you think he needs help, you need to tell the proper people, not go off and make him join a cult or whatever you've done." Almost letting out a laugh of disbelief, Craig rolled his eyes and stared at Mr. Mackey like he was an idiot.
"It's called roleplaying," Craig informed the man, his eyes level. "And I don't care what you think. Tweek doesn't need fixing. He's a wreck, sure, but that's the way I like him." It sounded insane, even to Craig's ears, but it was so entirely true. He loved to see Tweek stand up for himself and fight, but it was that twitchy, spastic and wild personality that had drawn him to Tweek. It was those wide green eyes and that wild blond hair, it was the way he screamed about aliens and the way he hit his head on the desk when it was too much. Craig had never even thought about fixing Tweek, he just thought that as long as he could make it easier for the boy, then everything would be alright.
Before Mr. Mackey could respond, the doors to the cafeteria burst open and Tweek leaped in, his pan raised and his green eyes as vivid and full of life as ever. Behind him, the other boys they were supposed to be leading together came spilling into the room, their various weapons raised. Instantly, Craig was on his feet and walking over towards Tweek, who grinned from ear to ear when he saw him and yelled, "GRR- CRAIG!"
"Don't you do it, Craig Tucker!" Mr. Mackey said, his voice raised in warning. "I am going to get so upset if you do this, I will call your parents!" Even though that gave him a moment's pause, there really was no choice. Drawing one of his wooden knives, Craig stood beside Tweek and took the boy's free hand in his own, hiding the action behind his cloak.
Lifting the middle finger of the hand that held his knife, Craig said, "Mr. Mackey, fuck you." Feeling an unbridled sense of satisfaction at that, Craig turned around, letting Tweek draw ahead of him and lead.
"Curse you, I'll get you, m'kay!" Mr. Mackey yelled after them as they ran out of the cafeteria and down the halls full of unconscious or hurt Hall monitors. Several of their soldiers let out whoops of triumph and Tweek laughed, his eyes dancing with pride and joy. Craig thought, as far as he could, that the expression looked good on the boy.
"D-did you get the keys, Russell?" Tweek asked, twitching as he did so. With a laugh, the fourth-grader held up a keyring, jingling them as he did so. Nodding, the boy said, "Then let's get out of here, we have a b-battle to win!" As he spoke, his fingers tightened around Craig's, his excitement palpable.
While Russell and Daniel ran ahead to unlock the doors, Craig looked down at Tweek and raised his eyebrows. "So this is what they were planning." His tone was flat, but it still managed to convey the emotions he wanted it too. Looking up at him, shivering as he did so, Tweek tilted his chin up in an expression Craig recognized as pride.
"Yeah! I wasn't going to do it –ngh- at first, but then I did and it was easy!" Practically bouncing, Tweek exclaimed, "Two p-people could have taken them all down, but it was more fun with everyone else." Craig marveled at how happy Tweek was and reflected that the boy must have been ignoring what Mr. Mackey had promised about them getting in trouble for this. That or he'd honestly figured out how to make himself not care.
"Mr. Mackey thought I was behind it," Craig told Tweek, unsure if he was warning the boy or just telling him. Ahead of them, Russell struggled to get the front doors of the school open while Daniel helped. Tweek's attention, however, didn't waver from Craig's face. "He thinks I'm ruining you."
"Yeah," Tweek confirmed, the shadow of worry crossing his face before it vanished once more. Vibrating where he stood, Tweek continued, "I mean, I –ghn- h-heard most of it over the Walkie Talkies. We all heard you! I put together most of what you guys said towards the end." The lock of the doors finally gave way and Russell let out a cheer as they opened the doors.
Allowing their fighters to stream out first, Craig and Tweek followed them at a more sedate pace. "Am I?" Craig asked before he could stop himself. He didn't mean to ask it, after all, he knew it was ridiculous. That being said, it slipped out anyway. As soon as he'd said it, Tweek gave a particularly hard twitch and he stared at Craig, a fierce look in his eyes.
"No way man!" Tweek insisted, shaking Craig's arm as he vibrated. "You're not a bad influence at all." Biting his lip suddenly, as if trying to figure out how to phrase something, Tweek pulled a face and asked, in a slightly nervous tone, "W-were you being serious? Ngh- W-when you said that you liked me the way I am? B-because Mr. Mackey is right, I'm a wr-wreck." He said it like he half expected Craig to leave him right then and there, which made Craig's gut clench.
Unable to even begin to show those emotions properly, Craig just flatly said, "Nah dude, you're the right kind of fucked up." Cringing slightly inside because he hadn't meant it to come out like that, Craig was surprised to hear Tweek laugh almost bitterly and squeeze his hand hard.
"Y-you're the right kind of –Rrr- fucked up too," Tweek said, his voice changing slightly, becoming more serious and less excited. His eyes were firm as the strength in them blew Craig away. "We'll both be messes together." Something in Craig's heart cried out at that, and though he wouldn't remember it after that day, he knew that Tweek's words had resonated with him. Because it was different than someone tolerating him or putting up with his problems, this was Tweek, and Tweek was willing to be troubled with him. Craig hadn't known that he needed it, but the moment Tweek said it, he realized that he'd never be able to exist without it again.
Though he knew he probably shouldn't, the Noirette made sure none of their fighters were looking at them before reaching over and ruffling Tweek's soft hair. Blue eyes softening, Craig evenly said, "I'm proud of you."
A twitch, a grin, and with it all, impossibly green eyes. "I know!" Tweek squeaked, his eyes blazing with life. Turning to the rest of the boys, Tweek yelled, "Now, let's go beat those Drow Elves!" Around them, their warriors cheered.
A/N: I know it was long but I couldn't stop myself! *is very sorry*
So I've got a new question for y'all and I hope I'll get some answers again. How many of you out there would consider seeing Tweek get hurt just so Craig can take care of him one of your favorite things? Do you like it, or does it make you feel angsty inside? Does it make you feel angsty and you like it anyway?
I just noticed that AussieDollVA has started a cult around Injured!Tweek and Caring!Craig and I was curious as to how many of you people are joining XD
I'm done, I'm done…
