We Are Damaged /A Creek fanfic/

X - Cigarette

Happy New Year!  <3

The morning was pain. I got out with a sore back, sore neck and a hurting thigh. Regret filled my head as I made my way into the bathroom.

I looked horrible. I looked like I was dead. Hah, I wish.

I washed my hands and face. That was the best I could do to fix myself up. I walked down my stairs and saw my mother sitting by the table, sipping tea.

She noticed me. "Good morning." She said simply and went back to browsing her phone.

"Hey." I replied with no emotion or willpower. "What's for breakfast?"

"Your father left early. He has to work on Saturdays too so I didn't really prepare anything. There's some toast on the counter." She stated.

"Cool."

I took a piece of toast and spread some butter on it. I salted it slightly and sat down across my mother. We were sitting in deafening silence, the only noise which rang in my ears was her nails hitting the phone screen as she occasionally scrolled down.

She drank from her cup and looked at me while I was chewing the toast. Then, she looked back. I tried not to take any glances but couldn't really control my eyes.

She didn't have any visible emotions on her face. She was just.. there. She used to be so lively and nice. She was such a great mom.. until I ruined her.

I took a bigger bite and started eating faster. I didn't want to be near the woman who is only a shadow of her past self.

I finally ate it all and got up from the table in a hurry. I put the plate in the dishwasher after rinsing it and started walking away.

"Craig." She stopped me from fleeing.

"Yes?" I turned towards her. She sighed.

"You haven't been home that often for the past few weeks." She stated.

"Yeah?" I questioned suspiciously.

"Your father and I would rather you stayed at home more oft-"

"Why?"

"Well, we'd like to you have you here." She stated.

"Well, I'd like to be away, thankyouverymuch." I spat coldly and walked up my stairs to change. I flipped the wall off before I closed the door, knowing I was aiming at my mother.

I changed into some warm clothes and combed my hair swiftly. I got my stuff like phone, wallet and papers and darted off the stairs. I didn't say goodbye, I wouldn't have meant it.

Cigs. I need some. Two at least. I put my hand in my pocket and pulled a half-empty box of Marlboro. The blue menthol kind, that's what I liked.

I instantly put one cig in my mouth and lit it. After a quick, yet deep drag, the end started burning.

I began walking in a random direction and after a few minutes I sat on a random bench in front of a random house. I checked the time -as I didn't even know if it was early or late for a morning smoke. 9:40. Just the right time.

I took my damn time smoking that cigarette. It started snowing soon after. I crushed the burnt stub on the bench and threw it backwards.

"Don't litter in my yard, Tucker." A familiar voice spoke.

"Oh, hi Marsh. Nice to see ya." I said nonchalantly.

"Pick it up."

I huffed. "Fuck no. Go find your little slave to do that for you."

"What?" He put his hands in his pocket. I looked up at him. Same hat as before, same style jacket, same hair. Yup, it's the lame-ass Stan Marsh.

"Butters. I meant Butters. You guys kinda ditched him, haven't you." I said in a condescending way.

"It's none of your business." He rolled his eyes. "Now pick it up."

"Pick up what?" I asked, playing dumb.

"Ugh, the- the cigarette, dude. The one you've just thrown into my yard."

I got visibly frustrated. I didn't like the way he towered over my sitting figure so I stood up. We were about the same height which I disliked deeply.

"Fuck you." I said and took out another cig and lit it.  As I started walking away, he followed behind. I stopped and turned around. "Why are you coming after me?"

"I get it that you're edgy and angsty but don't fucking litter into my yard. You're a fucking asshole and if I can torment you with anything, then I'll torment you with this." He said. His tone was aggressive and irritated.

I sighed, breathing smoke out. "Fine." I walked back to his yard and looked at the barely-snowy grass. I found the stub, picked it up, crushed my half-smoked cigarette in it and let go of both ones. "Oops."

"Asshole!" Stan yelled and dashed forwards. I was too tired to dodge his attack and he punched me in the stomach. His punch was stronger than Tweek's.

"Ah- gh." I coughed. "Are you- for real?" Does everyone feel like kicking my ass?

He looked at me with anger in his eyes. He saw my pained expression and looked away. After a deep sigh, he offered his hand, still looking away.

"..." I glanced at his hand with distrust.

"Take it. If I hurt you, you can kick me in the nuts." He said shamefully.

I took it cautiously, narrowing my eyes at him, but he didn't move so I got up and he supported my weight.

He sighed again deeply. "Sorry. I don't like you but.. you wouldn't have stooped this low. At least, not anymore."

"You don't know that." I joked and he chuckled.

"That would be too much effort of you, I'd take you to the hospital so they could check if you've lost your mind." Stan smiled sadly. He walked to the stubs and picked them up, throwing them in a nearby bin.

"I owe you a milkshake." He said and started walking. "..." He turned to me after walking a few meters. "You coming?"

"Oh, now?" I blinked a few times.

"Yeah, dumbass." He said, putting some emphasis on 'dumbass'.

"Alright." And so I followed him.