Author's Notes: I've honestly been working on this for more than a year. Seriously, I started this, like, last August, almost finished it and have just been coming back to it every once in a great while. Today I just decided screw it, time to finish already. Anyway, Wendy/Butters, aka Wetters. Hopefully I got their personalities done well, extrapolating on them without making these too melodramatic. Enjoy!
"Let go of the lure! Let go of the lure!" Wendy cried, as Butters ran screaming past her with the angry falcon in pursuit.
Lately, whenever something happened that made Wendy want to break down and cry, she would look at Butters' cheerful face and wonder how he always managed to bounce back from his problems.
Only Butters' parents would ground their five-year-old for "being too ugly." And only Butters would follow that up by grabbing the prettiest girl he could find and kissing her on the lips, then become legitimately disappointed when it didn't somehow "turn him back into a handsome prince."
Wendy put her head down in embarrassment as Mr. Garrison forced Butters to stand in front of the class and read the love letter he had been trying to pass her.
She felt like she was stuck in a deep, dark pit after she and Stan broke up. And then suddenly, there was Butters above her, holding a rope.
Wendy was dating Stan. Butters knew that. And Butters liked Stan, so it's not like he could be mad at him about it. Too bad that didn't change his feelings, though.
Wendy was surprised, but not totally surprised, when Saddam Hussein managed to suck the entire town into Hell and enslave its inhabitants. What had completely floored her was when Butters, who had been visiting his aunt out of town that weekend, wound up being the one who somehow saved them all.
It turned out that when Wendy said she wanted to "do something special for National Women's Day," she actually hadn't been hinting that he should come to school in drag.
When something was important to Butters, you'd better believe he dedicated himself to it, and there was nothing as important to him than his girlfriend, why, no sirree Bob.
Not that she believed in these sorts of things anyway, but it was starting to get weird how every fortune-teller or Ouija board the girls played with kept predicting she would marry Butters.
One "I luv u drlng!" text a day was sweet. Two hundred, not so much.
Between homework and activities and trying to solve some of the biggest problems in the world, it was the rare moment when Wendy wasn't worrying about something in the back of her mind. However, those happy moments were more common when Butters was around.
Even knowing how oddly affectionate Butters could be, "she was my cousin" was still a suspicious excuse for kissing that girl on the cheek. But really, when she heard the way he said it, with that adorably innocent expression, there was no doubt in Wendy's mind that he was telling the truth.
No matter how many times she tried to convince him otherwise, Butters knew that he really wasn't all that special.
Even though they had succeeded, Wendy was seriously pissed off by all the trouble that this ridiculous little "adventure" had brought them. But after taking one look at Butters' worn but oddly cheery smile, she decided to look on the bright side.
There were times when you just needed to be alone. Most of the time, though, being alone with Butters was close enough.
"Oh, now, come on, Wendy! You can't go and give up just because we're havin' some trouble! I'm sure we can find somebody else who wants to sign this petition."
The only people who thought Butters was always happy were the people who didn't care about him; anybody who paid enough attention would notice that he was usually very closing to falling into depression. Wendy was a bit surprised when she realized this, and then a little ashamed, since it had taken her years of knowing him to figure it out.
Their lips touched, but rather than trying to enjoy it Wendy screwed up her face, preparing for the incoming barrage of vomit. When she opened her eyes to just see Butters smiling dreamily she was so overcome with excitement that she grabbed him and kissed him again.
Wendy could act a bit irrational when she was upset—getting breast implants, shooting teachers into the sun, that sort of thing—but she was never quite bad enough that Butters couldn't find some way to stop her from getting out of hand.
The sixth-grader snickered as the little blond boy ran off, crying that he was going to get help from his girlfriend of all people. Half an hour later that same little blond boy was back with a tinfoil outfit and a lipstick mark on his cheek, beating the bully senseless while cackling about "the power of love!" giving him strength.
Butters couldn't quite define that hidden sense of insecurity he knew Wendy had, he didn't know what to call it or how to talk about it or even deal with it half the time, but he knew it better than any psychologist could ever hope to. It was, in fact, incredibly familiar.
It was the most depressing, desolate scene that Wendy had ever seen, but somehow Butters' stuttering reassurances almost made her believe that they really weren't completely screwed.
Well, if everyone else said he was crazy, he must be, Butters thought sadly, leaning against the padded wall of his cell. Meanwhile Wendy was already searching the phone book for an attorney, determined to get Butters out of there no matter what it took.
"Are you sure you're really mad at Bebe, Wendy? 'Cuz you know, I don't care what anybody else says, I think you're prettier anyway."
"Seriously, I'm the only one who figured this out?" Wendy wondered. Butters, however, just slouched unhappily in his tinfoil outfit; he had hoped that she would be impressed.
In retrospect, maybe cloning wasn't the best way to resolve this whole love triangle thing.
Wendy knew that astrology was a load of hooey, but after reading some ridiculous brochure he got from a carnival fortuneteller, Butters was just thrilled to find out that she was a Capricorn. "You get along with us Virgos famously!"
Society had broken down, zombies were everywhere and they seemed to be the only two humans left, and somehow, despite Butters' hysterical screaming, Wendy was still calm enough to get them both to safety.
Where did Professor Chaos get a mecha? Wendy had no idea. But the terrified look on Cartman's face made it the most awesome thing ever.
After a rather vitriolic reply from Wendy, Butters decided that he should stop trying to put slang in his e-mails. Or at least, find a spell-checker than recognized "phat" as a legit word, yo.
"I really like all the flavors about the same," Wendy said, which was meant as an invitation for Butters to just buy her the cheapest ice cream and not worry about it. But Butters, of course, took her literally, which was how she managed to get thirty-two sample-size bits smooshed together into a single odd-tasting scoop.
Butters couldn't tell when he was being mocked, so Wendy just rolled her eyes and punched Cartman in the nose for him.
Give a man a fish, and he'll eat for a day, but if ya teach a man to fish, why, he can eat for a lifetime. Which is why, when Butters couldn't find any flowers in the dead of winter and could no longer afford to buy some before every date, he got together some seeds and signed him and Wendy up for a gardening class.
It was dumb, but given a choice between talk radio and yet another idiotic pop song, Wendy had to admit that Butters' pirate radio station was the best thing on the air.
It took her a long time to realize that Butters liked her. It took her twice as long to realize that she was beginning to like him back.
Home and school were hell. His dates with Wendy? Pure bliss.
Wendy didn't know what Butters planned to do, armed with nothing but a stick against an extraterrestrial super-being, but it was still comforting when he put himself between her and the alien, warning it to stay back in his stuttering Southern drawl.
Wendy face-palmed as the others just laughed. "No, Butters, you're not invisible. Now please put your clothes back on."
They were insipid, cliché and gave girls horrible expectations for what constituted a realistic relationship, but if Butters liked them then Wendy supposed they couldn't be that bad.
Ever since discovering his bizarre math skills, practically the entire class was trying to get Butters to do their homework for them every night. Ironically, the one girl who didn't seem to need it was the one person whose paper he would have been happy to check.
She knew it was a sort of dumb thing for a girl her age to worry about, but it genuinely worried her that while she wanted to live in a big city one day and escape the wasteland that was South Park, Butters honestly planned to live there for the rest of his life.
He had a black eye, a torn shirt and was bleeding in several places, but once Wendy wrapped her arms around him Butters felt like the luckiest boy in the world.
One day, Butters felt brave enough to show Wendy the scar he got from the time his dad had beat him. The next day, Mr. Stotch had quite a few marks of his own, though he hadn't gotten a chance to see who had attacked him before losing consciousness.
Cartman was always trying to poison Butters' mind with some stupid new idea, from his latest conspiracy about the Jews to the belief that eating his mom's makeup would somehow make him less ugly. And Butters always ate it up—until one day, when Cartman's latest "Wendy is a whore" speech just went too far to not deserve a swift kick in the crotch.
After years of dating, Stan still couldn't predict Wendy's sudden, inexplicable mood swings. Yet somehow, a mere couple of months into their relationship, Butters seemed to have them down pat.
Even after his tenth fall into the Testaburgers' rose bush, Butters just started scrambling up the side of the house again, sure that the romanticism of appearing outside Wendy's bedroom window would be enough to offset any minor concussions.
When Butters found out about Wendy's horrible disease, he gladly handed all his allowance over to Eric in exchange for a cure. Rather than being angry at the scam, though, he was just relieved when Wendy informed him that "PMS" was not actually fatal.
"Do ya think we can clean it up before my parents get home?" Butters asked nervously, as Wendy stared open-mouthed at the rubble that had once been the Stotches' home.
050. Writers' Choice—Happy
Wendy smiled as Butters lay his head on her shoulder. Even in this town, she thought, you can be happy if you just find the right person.