Craig

Craig didn't really want to leave.

Too much had happened today, he felt like the day should have been longer just to accommodate it all. As it was, he was already headed home, the memory of Tweek's fingers in his hair and big green eyes staring up at him the only thing to keep him company. Honestly, though, Craig would have argued that this was plenty. It might not have been as good as the boy himself was, but it was better than the usual crushing emptiness.

Now that he was alone, he started to remember the fact that he was bruised from head to toe and exhausted as hell. The game, no matter how much fun it was, could be exceptionally painful. At least he was used to bruises. At least they aren't real swords. Recalling what Tweek had said about seeing the game as if it were real, Craig took a moment to be thankful that he was only getting bruised and not carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

As the bits and pieces of what he'd talked about with Tweek filtered in through his head, Craig wondered if maybe they were both losing their mind collectively. He'd always known Tweek was crazy and that he was a thousand different kinds of fucked up, but this was a different kind of insanity. It was the kind that left him with this strange feeling that things were getting better. They weren't, he'd have to be a fool to think that shit would ever get better, but that's why it was madness.

Tweek inspired that madness, brought it along with him like he was the sun on a cloudy day. There was still rain, but he made Craig believe that happiness was attainable. And even though they'd had a fight, they'd gotten over it pretty quickly. He'd never be stupid enough to call it easy, but they were better off for it. He was better off for it.

The whole fiasco with the sixth-grader, Craig understood now, had been a freak accident that he hadn't been able to control. Did he wish he'd been there to protect Tweek or better yet, pull him away and avoid the situation entirely, oh absolutely. But did he feel guilty over it anymore? Not really. He wasn't going to be that careless in the future, but Tweek could handle himself. The blond didn't need Craig to swoop in every time he got a bit nervous, he just needed Craig to believe that he could handle it.

Besides, that particular fucker got booted from the game. So we'll be fine. Letting out a sigh, Craig cracked the bones in his neck slowly and stared straight ahead, at the barely visible sidewalk and it's uneven cracks and paving slabs. It was amazing how quickly he'd memorized this path, each spot that provided a tripping hazard for Tweek, who could trip on anything, and every light that would spill from the houses to his right. All of it, Craig could recite in his sleep.

It used to be, very little stuck in his mind. He went through the motions of his day to day life and things just sort of slipped through the cracks. Whole days could pass without him remembering a moment of them. There hadn't been good moments, but there hadn't really been bad ones either, mostly because they too were muffled by the bag he'd been metaphorically wearing over his head. He'd walk the same path to Token's house or to Clyde's house and he wouldn't be able to tell you anything about it. It was just a path, nothing but a series of directions that his muscles remembered but his brain never registered.

Nothing was ever vivid enough to stick.

Except for one thing of course. Tweek, from the beginning of fourth grade, when the boy had first caught his attention, had been cast in incandescent color. Like a glaring neon sign that brightened that corner of his mind. Everything about the boy, from his tics to his twitches to his green shirt and bright blond hair, had filled Craig's mind with color. He remembered the boy, memorized him when other things slipped through the cracks. If asked, he wouldn't have been able to remember what color Clyde's house was, but he knew by heart that Tweek's eyes were a brighter green than the manicured lawns of Token's house and that Tweek's hair glowed like spun gold when the sun hit in the afternoon light that streamed through the window beside his desk.

And even though his friends had picked up on it at once, Craig had never noticed it was happening. It hadn't even registered that Tweek's color was bleeding into his life but little by little until after they'd fought. Because once they were friends, officially, things had started looking more colorful. Maybe not brighter, in fact, if he was being honest, the bruises started to hurt more and the yelling at night had seemed louder. But the other side of things was that when Tweek smiled, the world glowed and when the boy had first lain with Craig on the floor of his room to stare at the stars, it had been like watching the milky way instead of simply looking at glow in the dark plastic.

Craig had spent his whole life staring at a world made of shades of faded gray, Tweek had touched it and suddenly, the trees had color and the sun felt warm. And maybe he was letting his imagination get away with him because it seemed a little stupid to even believe half of what he was thinking, but Craig knew it was at least partially true. Whatever else he could say about the addition of Tweek to his life, Craig couldn't deny that the boy had touched his shades of gray and turned them into green and gold.

Yup, I've gone crazy. Though he didn't smile, Craig did let out a snort and put his head down. If he could have gone and told his messed up kindergarten self that had originally decided the world wasn't worth shit that he was going to find someone that made it worth something again, Craig would have told himself to fuck off. Heck, he was still considering telling himself to fuck off, he was getting on his own nerves, being so sentimental about this stuff, but as long as he could confidently say it made his life better, he was going to try to stay in this world of color that Tweek had brought to him.

Turning onto his street, Craig hurried the rest of the way to his house, seeing no sense in taking his time. The sooner he got home, the sooner he'd be able to get some sleep and the sooner that happened, this day would be over. He'd dealt with way too much, his brain wasn't built to handle this level of eventful.

Briefly taking into account the lights were still on in his house, even though they should have probably been off, Craig tried the door handle and was unsurprised to find it open. Experiencing that curious heavy feeling that occurred when one gets home after a long day, Craig slipped in the door and quickly closed it behind him, his footsteps naturally growing quiet as if to accommodate the stifling feeling of his house. After all, there were some silences that were not meant to be broken.

Turning, intent on heading toward the stairs and inevitably his room, Craig caught sight of his sister, Ruby, sitting on the stairs, her little hands wrapped tightly around the stiles as she stared at him with wide eyes. Instantly knowing that something was amiss Craig tilted his head at her, only to receive a furious shake from her, a clear sign to get away. Confused, the tall boy took a step forward, wanting to know what she was trying to tell him. After all, it wasn't often that she took the time to care about what was happening to him. There were only two times she did; when she thought she could get something out of it and when-

"Craig Tucker, where the hell have you been?" Blood going cold, Craig slowly looked away from his sister and turned on the balls of his feet to face the person who'd just entered the room. Thomas Tucker looked as intimidating as he always did, that permanent scowl already on his lips, his ruddy face warning Craig that the man had been drinking. He looked furious, Craig, in his state of tired confusion, was having trouble figuring out why.

"I was out with my friends," he answered back, struggling to inject some confidence into his flat monotone. Moving out of the doorway slowly, Craig faced his father, trying to think what it could have been this time that the man was furious about.

"We heard." Turning to face the sharp voice that came from the kitchen, Craig watched as his mother walked in, her arms crossed and her face pinched into a furious expression. "Believe me, Craig, we heard all about it."

Eyes flying between the two of them, his body tensing up in preparation to flee if he had to, Craig quickly worked through what they were talking about, trying to remember what he'd done that his parents would be upset about… Oh… Face paling, Craig clenched his teeth together. He'd entirely forgotten about what Mr. Mackey had said, how he'd promised to call his parents if he left detention. Heart rate kicking up a notch, Craig's entire demeanor went dead as he quickly tried to smother the fear that rose up in his mind.

"What the fuck were you doing, breaking out of detention?!" His father demanded, advancing on Craig. The boy instantly took a step back, not stupid enough to stand his ground. "Bad enough that you were in detention in the first place, but to then leave? I can't fucking believe you'd do something so stupid!"

"I didn't deserve the detention anyway," Craig attempted to say, wanting to calm his father down before it got violent. More violent than it was bound to get regardless. "They put me in their unfairly. I was standing up for someone, they just put me in detention because-"

"Don't you backtalk your father like that!" Craig's mother snapped, glaring at him. Cursing mentally, realizing he'd made a stupid mistake, the Noirette took another step back. He could practically hear his heart in his ears, a constant reminder that he was terrified. "You deliberately skipped out on detention Craig Tucker! Do you have any idea what it's like to be told something like that?!"

Embarrassing for you, probably, Craig thought, but didn't say. He was too busy holding up his hands and trying to keep himself calm. "Look," he said as his father got closer again, his mean beady eyes furious. "I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I just-"

"NO! I DON'T FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU JUST ANYTHING!" There was no time between Thomas Tucker's roar and the hand that flew out at him for Craig to avoid it. All he knew was that one moment he was on his feet and the next his ribs exploded in pain as his father's fist connected with them. Stumbling back, not letting the pain show on his face, Craig attempted to regain his balance as his dad yelled, "YOU ARE A FUCKING DISGRACE CRAIG TUCKER!"

Even though he knew he shouldn't Craig found himself yelling back, "Don't you think I already fucking know that?!" He attempted to get out of the way of Thomas's next strike but the man was much older and much faster than he was.

Vision going blurry for a moment as the man's fist connected with one of his ears, Craig heard through his distorted hearing his mother shouting, "Don't you dare curse at us, you bastard! You are the one who can't do anything right, we have done everything to raise you as a normal child and this is what we get in return!?"

Stomping towards him, Thomas Tucker's hand clenched in the folds of Craig's cloak and before the boy could escape, the man was physically lifting him into the air. "You make me sick!" the man shouted, delivering a punch to Craig's stomach when his words failed to provoke a reaction. Body crying out for air, Craig convulsed and coughed as his father bellowed, "I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD! I HAVE GIVEN YOU A ROOF OVER YOUR HEAD! I HAVE FED AND CLOTHED YOU AND ALL YOU DO IS DISRESPECT AND DISGRACE US!"

"I haven't done anything wrong," Craig insisted weakly, scrambling to get away as the lack of oxygen made his head spin. He could practically smell the alcohol on his dad's breath and it made him feel physically sick. Of course, I did something wrong, I'm wrong simply for existing to these people. As his vision started to go spotty, Craig choked out, "Please-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" The world turned upside-down as he was tossed away from his father bodily. Back slamming into the wall, Craig could do nothing as he fell to the floor, his whole form in pain. Every inch of him cried out and yet he still struggled to get to his feet. "YOU'RE A FUCKING PATHETIC PIECE OF SHIT!" He couldn't even see Thomas Tucker, his head was spinning too much, all he could do was listen to what he was saying and know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were true. "If I could, I would wipe you from my life entirely!"

"I was protecting someone!" Craig insisted back, his arms shaking as he tried to use them to push himself upright. Why am I trying to reason with him? It never works, never! I'm just wasting my time. But just like always, he couldn't stop himself from trying to make his dad see reason, even if it never worked. "I couldn't watch my friend get beaten up, I had to do something!"

A hand connected with the back of his head, tossing him down again to the floor. "Who the fuck would want to be friends with someone like you, you're worthless, all you do is fuck things up!" Unable to avoid the subsequent and vicious kick, Craig just allowed himself to go limp, attempting to hold in the pained sounds he wanted to make as his ribs were abused. "YOU ARE NOTHING, YOU UNDERSTAND ME! NOTHING!"

Opening his eyes, Craig looked up and saw his mother. She was still standing in the doorway and her arms were still crossed. Begging her with his eyes to make it stop, Craig was simply rewarded with a boot to his chest, which knocked his head back against the wall. "Don't you go looking to your mother for help!" Thomas Tucker spat at him. "She isn't going to help you, you deserve this!"

"I'm sorry," Craig said softly, putting his head down and squeezing his eyes shut tight. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry." He just kept repeating it, wishing that his father would just accept it and let him go. Finally, the shadow over him drew back and Craig dared to open his eyes, staring up at the man that made his life a living hell.

"You had better be," Thomas Tucker told him, his eyes narrowed. "Now get the fuck out of my sight or you're sleeping outside." Even though everything hurt, Craig scrambled to his feet, using the wall to steady himself. The moment his father turned away, Craig limped as quickly as he could towards the stairs, not about to throw away this chance of escape. Clinging to the railing to help get himself upstairs, Craig just kept moving, not letting his mind think, not allowing himself to fall into the dark pit that threatened to consume him.

His sister was still sitting on the stairs, just out of sight of the main room. Ruby's eyes were wide and fearful as they stared at him, her lip caught between her teeth. Tweek does that. Heart clenching, Craig softly said, "Go to bed," ignoring the way his voice cracked down the middle of the sentence. "Lock the door behind you." Stumbling to her feet, his little sister darted ahead of him, racing towards her room and quickly shutting the door behind her.

Heading towards his own room, Craig tripped through the entrance way and only just managed to close the door before he fell to the floor, his legs simply giving out on him. As he started to shake, the terror and pain finally overwhelming his mind, Craig curled up into a fetus position, unable to do much more. Why, why does this always happen? Why do I have to be such a fucking piece of shit? Why can't I be good enough? Letting out a muffled sound of pain as he rolled onto one of his bruises, Craig sucked in bottom lip as his stomach threatened to empty itself over his carpet.

He should have thought of this, he should have gone to Token's house instead. Shaking harder, Craig squeezed his eyes shut and wished it didn't hurt so much. It used to be this didn't affect him, he just shook until he fell asleep, now all he felt was terror as the realization of what had just happened sunk in. Why did they have to call them? Why did they have to tell them that I left detention? Why did they have to make everything so horrible?

Rolling over, Craig attempted to even out his breathing as he stared at the stars on his ceiling, but he couldn't. I'm worthless, why does anyone care about me? Why does Tweek even put up with me? I'm a wimp. I'm a fucking coward. He felt like he was going to cry, but he wouldn't, couldn't let his father have that sort of satisfaction. I HATE HIM! I HATE THEM BOTH WHY DO THEY BOTH HAVE TO DO THIS TO ME!? Because he deserved it, because he'd left detention and because he'd gotten a detention in the first place.

But I was protecting Tweek, right? Thinking of the blond made Craig's throat close up. He'd been so fucking happy just sitting in the tree with the boy and now everything had gone to shit. Lifting his aching arms to his face, Craig pressed on his eyes and gritted his teeth in an attempt to hold the tears at bay. He didn't deserve that kind of happiness, not when he was such a dark person, not when he brought pain and suffering with him everywhere he went. And yet he craved it, wished he had Tweek here so he could hold on tight to the one real thing he had.

Breath coming in short, pained gasps, Craig felt the warm wetness of the tears finally spill out over his cheeks. The moment the horrible salty clamminess pushed past his palms, Craig's arms fell limp and he let them collapse to his sides. On his ceiling, the stars grew blurry as the pain manifest itself on his face. He was acting like a fucking weakling, but he couldn't stop himself. Gone were the days when he could face something like this emotionlessly, now, everything was so much more vivid and painful.

As silent sobs started to choke him, closing up his throat and leaving him unable to breathe, Craig wrapped his arms around his chest and struggled to keep quiet. Though really, there was no risk of him making noise, no, Craig knew how to cry silently, despite the fact he hadn't done so since he was six. As his face grew blotchy with tears and his head started to pound, Craig rolled over and curled up once more, letting his carpet soak up his tears.

All he wanted was to be anywhere but there. All he wanted was someone to tell him that it was going to be okay. But he knew that it would only ever be a lie because this would never be okay and he was pretty sure it would never end either. Wrapping his arms around his chest, hiccupping as his sobs turned to nothing but dry gasps, Craig clenched his teeth hard enough to make them hurt and struggled to pull himself back together.

Just go to bed, his mind told him. That's what he always did. Get over what had happened, push it to the back of his head and forget it. Except he hadn't been beaten that bad in a long time and he wouldn't have been able to go to sleep at that moment if he tried. Not here, not with his parents downstairs, liable to come up at any moment and scream at him some more. His mother especially loved to do that, drag it out for as long as she could until he was well and truly whipped.

Staring with blurry eyes at the little stars that Tweek and he had glued to his ceiling together, Craig found himself pushing himself to his feet. No, he wasn't going to be able to sleep here, but there was somewhere where he might be able to sleep. Pushing his mind back into blankness, Craig struggled to take deep, calm breaths as he got together everything he'd need tomorrow for school, including a change of clothes and a spare shirt and bottoms to wear.

Once he was sure he'd gotten everything together, Craig stood in the middle of his room for a moment, his legs still shaking uncertainly. Glancing over at Stripe, who was at the bars of his cage and watching Craig as though he knew what was going on, Craig softly said, "I'll be back tomorrow." He knew that his pet couldn't understand, but he felt better saying it out loud. His voice still sounded broken, but he'd be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

Walking over to his window, Craig threw it open and swung himself outside, ignoring the pain that rocketed through his body at the motions. So he was hurt, so what? He'd get better. Bruises healed. Besides, he'd feel better once he'd gotten where he was going.

Because Tweek had said that Craig could come to him if the monsters got too bad and Craig wasn't about to say no to that. So what if I'm a piece of shit that doesn't deserve someone like Tweek, at least he doesn't know that. It wasn't a lie if he never told Tweek one way or another. So he just closed his window and climbed down, unwilling to think about it anymore. It didn't bear dwelling on.

And all the while, he just kept telling himself that he didn't care, because he was terrified that if he stopped, the pressure would finally crush him at last.