A/N I'm shocked if this isn't the shortest chapter of the lot. Sorry, folks. And for those of you getting sick of the chatspeak and pure emotional tension, just hang in until Stage 9, I implore you, because that's where it gets good. Good as in Craig-and-Tweek-physical-content, yes. Patience. It was great to see a couple new reviewers this time around, too! Yes, Bebe is behaving rather passively, I'll confess. My excuse for this is that she's trying to stay calm for Tweek; both of them panicking means nasty business. Take it or leave it. ;)
Thanks to ObanesHarvest, as per usual ^^, as well as TheAwesome15 and our other anonymous reviewer- though your message was brief, it's great to see that people even read this story!
Disclaimer I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc.
Stage 5. ([[{r.i.s.i.n.g—a.c.t.i.o.n}]])
9:48 pm
July 30th, 2011
South Park, Colorado
Bebe: so
Ah, so she was back. Excellent… not. Craig rolled his eyes. She had needed time to say goodnight to her grandparents, apparently. It was so casual. She probably didn't realize exactly how intense of a night she was going to be experiencing from the other end of the computer. He did plan to keep correspondence with her, of course, so that she might get a grip on what his relationship with Tweek was really right, and how she'd really never be able to do a thing about it.
He'd recovered from his earlier bout of sensitivity. It was ridiculous. Tweek deserved what he was getting, deserved it for the simple crime of being so easy to use. If he wanted otherwise, then he oughtn't say that he didn't mind. It was counterproductive, he thought with a rather oily smirk.
Me: so...? what
Bebe: any big revelations while I was gone?
Me: & I should tell you why?
Bebe: figured out how to treat the boy who loves you?
oh, for GOD's sake
Me: No
I haven't
Why should he treat him any other way than he did? Even if he thought Tweek needed any better—and he doesn't, he doesn't—there still wouldn't really be any way to change things at this point. What was done, was done. Their relationship was as solid as if it had been carved in stone.
Bebe: it's easy.
Me: I think I am already treating him pretty fairly
Bebe: if you can't return his feelings, and I realize that, then I go to the police with that recording.
You wouldn't. The words flew out from under his fingertips, sat there for a moment, then disappeared as he slammed down on the 'backspace' key. He couldn't appear weak, that would only tempt her all the more. Still, he couldn't deny that the prospect of police was most… undesirable. What if they took him away? Away from Tweek?
Me: You don't know
the boy's a slut
Bebe: IS he now?
Me: so easy to use it's not even funny
Bebe: that doesn't. fucking. matter.
Yeah, okay, then it's to the police, right?
because this is out of my hands now.
No, no, no. He couldn't let her do that, he couldn't. Stay casual… but what if she did? What if they took him away? I'd break out of jail, he thought firmly. Anything so that I could stay with Tweek. I won't let them keep me from him.
Me: Nah.
It's a recording
not a video
you could have used voice manipulation
Bebe: I could have. But Tweek will serve as a witness...
won't you?
As the chat box jumped and the heading changed to (3) Bebe, me, Tweek, he imagined the words as they appeared before him. So predictable that he could practically hear them, in that high-pitched, jumpy voice, that voice that he'd heard moaning with pleasure and screaming for mercy—those two often within seconds of each other.
Tweek: w-wait...
why am I here?