South Park Oneshots

Minutes Before Dawn - Staig

Tw: alcoholism, suicide attempt (overdose), mention of abuse, mild description of injuries (from and not from abuse)

Requested by my sister

Craig had noticed that Stan's behavior had been different the past few months. He was noticeably depressed, and Craig couldn't blame him. His parents divorced and went through a nasty custody battle. Despite his mother's efforts to keep her children in her safehold, Randy's lawyer ensured that he got his kids. Craig pitied the poor kid. He knew Stan hated his dad, despite his many similarities to him.

It was another day of school, a bland, frozen Tuesday afternoon. Craig was trying to participate in the small talk with his friends, but he was more focused on Stan. He was smiling for the first time since the divorce. His hat was absent, which was another peculiar detail. Stan did everything possible to hide his hair. Bleached or not, his black roots reminded him too much of his father to bear. His jacket was off as well, which had the alarms in Craig's mind blaring. Stan's friends didn't seem to notice the scars, but Craig certainly did.

"Helloooo? Earth to Craig!" Clyde yelled, waving his hand in front of Craig's icy gray eyes to gain his attention. Craig redirected his gaze to the short brunette.

"What?" He snipped.

"You're making heart eyes at Stan again, dude." Clyde retorted, his permanent, smug smirk widening. Craig glanced at Tweek, his now ex-boyfriend, and saw he was frowning just enough for him to notice. Craig knew that Tweek wasn't over him yet, which was understandable in all fairness. They had been together since they were ten, and now they were eighteen and leading different paths. He felt bad for him. Even if they ended on bad terms, he knew Tweek had to learn how to function on his own again.

"No I wasn't, shut the fuck up." He spat, flipping Clyde off. Tweek giggled softly, which made him feel better. His gaze returned to Stan, who was chatting excitedly with his super best friend, Kyle. Another red flag.

The bell rang, which signaled the start of their last class. Their group diverted their attention to their respective paths, parting ways with halfhearted waves and pathetic attempts at after school plans. Craig sighed softly. He needed a cigarette. He was glad his last class was space science, it was his favorite, with math being a close second. At least he pretended to like math, he had to know how to use it if he wanted to be an engineer at NASA. As much as he would love to see the stars he fell in love with up close, his fear of heights was too much of a handicap.

He claimed his desk in the back corner, next to the window. He pulled his computer and notebook out of his small bag and placed them both on his desk, then stole a pencil from the school's doormat, Butters. He never stood up for himself, which Craig found pathetic. He never said anything, only grabbed the writing utensil and returned it after. He ignored the trickle of students walking into the classroom, desperate to get the inevitable partnered project over with.

He knew Stan was his partner. Part of his soul wanted to scream with joy and jump around, dancing like a fool. The other wanted to swaddle the poor kid in bubble wrap and keep him in a room, safe from harm. Today. He swore. Today I will try to fix things.

The room seemed to light up for a moment when Stan finally walked in, roughly thirty seconds late, as he was every day. Craig felt creepy for monitoring how long it took for Stan to walk in, but, like almost everything in his life, he preferred to keep tabs on every small detail he found important. Stan was much more relevant than some infinitesimal detail, though.

Instead of sitting with Kyle, like he usually did, he did something surprising. He sat next to Craig, who looked at him and raised an inquisitive brow momentarily before re-placing his cold gaze, resuming his original position.