First chapter makes me a happy author : ) Just a word of warning - I have no idea how long this is going to go for but it's going to involve light Creek from where it stands now. Please enjoy :D


Craig was in no goddamn mood to deal with any of this shit today.

A few days ago, he would have tolerated at least a small amount of the monotonous bullshit. The normal amount. He could normally do that. But not today. Not since… he bit back a whimper, choking it into a bored sigh. He shut his eyes and tried not to think of the little flat nose, the soft fur, the deep black eyes blinking up at him at the commercial breaks when they watched Red Racer…

So now he sat, hunched over his desk, counting the blurred flecks of the tabletop. What else could he do? There was nothing else to do. He was so damned used to this system that he had constructed, so used to the give and take that he suddenly found himself flailing around once he was free of it. He had a routine, damnit, and now that was all shot to hell. If there was ever a time he needed to talk to Stripe…

"Dude!" Clyde nearly screamed into his ear, physically wrenching Craig's face up off the desk. Had it been anyone else, they'd be suffering from broken face, but Clyde had dealt with Craig's shit long enough to build up some sort of immunity. Still, Craig flipped him off.

"Listen man, I know you're all for this brooding quiet guy shit but what the fuck?" The brunette huffed, dropping his head with a thud. "It's getting ridiculous."

Craig remained silent, blinking past the brief pain in his head. It was dull compared to the one in his chest (if that didn't make him sound like the whiniest bitch faggot then nothing would). He just couldn't get it out of his head. He had come home like any other day and walked in, greeting his rodent pet affectionately by tapping the cage, like always. The little guy was old now – he needed a lot more rest, and Craig would normally leave him be… but Red Racer was going to be on in a few minutes and Stripe got mad at him the last time he let him sleep through an episode. So he tapped on the cage again and again…

"Man, are you still goin on 'bout that Guinea pig?" Token asked, taking his normal seat behind Craig.
"He is."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It's been like a week."
"Didn't that thing live for like twelve years?"
"His name was Stripe." Craig interjected, his voice muffled by desk.

The other boys fell silent, watching their blue-clad friend quietly. They glanced at each other before looking back at the unmoving Craig. Token cleared his throat and reached out to pat Craig's shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, man. It'll be okay." He offered, shrugging off his friend's glare and middle finger "Its gonna get better."
"Yeah. Look, that guy lived a long goddamn life. He should've been dead ages ago." Clyde paused; realizing that he probably wasn't helping "Why don't you get another one?"
"Yeah, another one would, you know, speed the healing process or something."
"Exactly. Why not?"
"Because it's not fucking Stripe that's why!"
"Oh sweet Jesus!"

Craig opened his eyes. He was standing, his hand balled into fists and currently digging into the top of his desk. He didn't know when he got up or why he was shouting, but he didn't really care too much. The flash of passionate rage had vanished for the moment. Not a lot of people saw, and he flipped off the ones that did. Hey knew better than to stare. He turned his attention to the other source of noise, twitching about and shivering on the floor. Tweek peered up at Craig, jerking a bit when he was nonchalantly flipped off. He gathered up his books and got off the ground, putting them hastily on his desk, checking to make sure it wouldn't collapse.

Craig sighed and sat back down, ignoring Tweek's jittery good morning. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this shit. Not today. With another dull thud, Craig let his head fall back onto the desk and grunted. Though it made him twitch in discomfort, it didn't stop Tweek from looking nervously between the two other boys, asking them what was up, seeing as how Craig had removed himself. Token, having some form of mature tact, dragged them away from the quiet male and started up the conversation a few rows over.

"His guinea pig, dude." Clude muttered, trying to keep his voice low "He died like almost week ago."
"Oh." Tweek twitched "Oh God did he come back from the grave-"
"No Tweek."
"Oh shit it's going to eat him! It's after his blood!"
"No you spaz! Craig's just messed up." Token growled, lightly cuffing him upside the head "He's depressed." Clyde elaborated.
"Oh sweet Jesus he's going to go Goth and slice open his wrists and he'll die!"
"No, fucknut." Clyde deadpanned, being much less gentle when he cuffed the shaky blond "He's just sad for a little while. Give him some space. God knows he won't be able to fucking tolerate you now."

Tweek spazzed and jerked, walking back to his chair. Token changed the subject to something about sports, Clyde chiming in every once in a while. Tweek kept quiet, Clyde's instructions turning over in his head. Leave Craig alone? For how long? Why couldn't he help? They'd gotten to be pretty alright friends, even if he twitched a lot. Craig never seemed to mind. He minded less than Clyde and Token, actually. But it was probably the twitching. Craig looked so damn sad he didn't need more terrible making it worse. But he wanted to help!

Whimpering, Tweek pulled at his yellow hair and flicked his gaze between the chalkboard and Craig constantly. Not once during the lesson did he move, only stirring once the bell rang for next class. Tweek wanted to follow him, but Craig didn't even wait for Clyde. He always waited for Clyde at least. Oh God this was really bad, wasn't it? The blond boy twitched and whined in panic, chewing at his fingernails. He made a desperate grab for his coffee, sucking down half the contents without even trying. It calmed him for a split second, but he was still confused and lost and afraid Craig was going to do what Stan did back in elementary and go Goth and end up all sad and depressed and jump off a bridge-

"Tweek?"
"Augh!"
"Tweek?" Craig repeated, his voice kind of quiet and… off sounding. Tweek twitched.
"W-What is it?"
"Your hand is bleeding."
"Oh Jesus!"

Craig had grabbed up his hand before Tweek could fist it in his tangled hair. He examined the chewed nails idly, wiping away some of the blood. The blond twitched and whimpered sniffling a little bit. He was going to bleed out and die and or get gangrene or lupus and be crippled forever!

"Acchk!"
"Calm the fuck down." Craig muttered lazily, wrapping a piece of tissue around it. "You're fine."
"Uhgn?" He shivered and withdrew his hand, looking dumbly at the bit of paper "O-Oh… Th-Thank you Craig. Urk!"

The blue-hatted boy half smiled, watching Tweek dive right back to his thermos. The spazzy little blond sighed happily after he finished his drink, his twitches subsiding a little bit while he bathed in caffeinated bliss. He noticed Craig still standing there, and he jerked a bit, eye twitching. He offered the other teen a small, lopsided, quivering little smile.

And for some reason, that made Craig feel better than he had all week.


Let me know what you think so far if you are so inclined :) Have a good day.