Work Text:
“Yeah, but the bad thing is that she lives in North Park…” Clyde sighed, his happy smile drooping into a frown. He pressed his cheek against the white and black speckled cafeteria table. Token and Craig shared a look.
“Dude, that’s not that far,” Token said. He took another sip of his purple YETI and went back to flipping through his phone. “And we’re graduating next year, so you’ll be able to suck face every day pretty soon.”
Clyde let out a high pitch whine. “Token, that’s SO LONG…”
Craig rolled his eyes. Ignoring Clyde was an art and one that Craig had perfected back in elementary school, but today he was extra annoying what with his retelling (and now lamenting) of meeting his soulmate. Something about them meeting at the outlet mall in North Park and yadda yadda yadda. It wasn’t like he didn’t care, he did (barely), but anytime the topic of soul mates came up, he couldn’t help but switch off his concentration. It just wasn’t a subject he had any interest in speaking in.
Clyde traced his mark, just located on the inside of his wrist, a very common place for it to be. The lines were jagged and it wasn’t something any of them recognized. A shark’s tooth, apparently. This girl apparently had a run-in with one or something? Whatever. The most jarring thing about it was that it was a deep red, so anyone that caught a glance of it might think Clyde was bleeding. Oh, the number of times Clyde tried to get any of them to do a double-take since he thought it was oh-so-funny.
Clyde caught him staring and jerked his sleeve back up with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, dude.”
Token looked up from his texts to Nichole, but Craig rolled his eyes again. “Don’t be. I told you that I don’t give a shit.”
“God, if only Marsh could’ve taken up your attitude,” Token joked.
Right. Everyone’s marks were still clearing up and, wouldn’t you know, Wendy and Stan were not a match. So Wendy promptly broke up, as most young couples do, to wait for her match. Stan had not taken it well, trailing after her in the halls and trying to talk to her by her locker. But this time, surprisingly, Wendy held firm until her match got his mark.
Kyle Broflovski.
Yeah, well, that was the talk of the school for the past month. Two best friends torn after one girl. Craig could probably half-ass write a novel over their bullshit lives (they gave him plenty of material with those fights in the locker room) and sell the movie rights for a shitty teen rom-com that would somehow make a good chunk of money while everyone talked about how cliché it was and get a solid forty on Rotten Tomatoes.
Once Heidi presented herself as Stan’s match and they found how much they had in common, things had calmed down. Stan and Kyle were like the best friend version of Stan and Wendy: no matter how many times they fought, they still ended up friends in the end.
Anyway, Stan had no reason to be such a bitch about it. It wasn’t like Kyle or Wendy planned to be soulmates. And he had a mark anyway, so he knew there was someone for him.
That was more than anyone could say for Craig.
Despite his protests, both of his parents had the dermatologist take a look over him. THREE FUCKING TIMES. No signs of a mark coming in. By now, he should have a mess, a blotchy patch somewhere on his body. But the doc confirmed thrice: nothing of the sort.
It was uncommon but certainly not unheard of. Sometimes people didn’t have soulmates and there wasn’t anything that could be done about that. Oftentimes these people would marry one another despite the disdain of those that claimed marriage was only for soulmates.
The worst was the pity looks. The whispers behind his back of how poor Craig was going to end up alone. It was probably true, but you’d think that by now they’d have moved onto something more interesting. Stan and Kyle’s little spiff did give him a break, but having a no-soulmate loser as a classmate was too juicy of gossip. Especially when someone like Cartman can get a mark.
“Tweek, my man,” Clyde greeted as said blond slide onto the bench across from Craig.
“So?” Token asked, looking up expectedly. Tweek shrugged, but when no one stopped staring, he begrudgingly held out his hand. The blurry patch on his palm was starting to clear up, become more defined, but it wasn’t yet all the way in. It was still fuzzy at best and no one could quite make out what it was supposed to be. It honestly looked like a weird bruise, just a dark evergreen rather than a sickly brown-green.
“Shit, I thought it’d be out over the weekend!” Clyde said, pouting.
Token hummed as he looked it over. “It’s definitely way more defined. You’re gonna find her soon, dude.”
Tweek grunted at this, eyes fixed on his lunch bag as he pulled out whatever his mom had felt like making that morning. Neither of the Tweaks seemed like parent material. Taking care of their son was usually a half-hearted effort slapped together and that was pretty clear in Tweek’s lunches. One time his dad packed it and Craig remembered Tweek pulling out a cup of Jell-O and nothing else. He remembered the little sigh that followed, “I, ngh, thought it was weirdly light...”
It’d be funny if it weren’t so infuriating. How Tweek never seemed to care despite his history of outlandish emotional outbursts was beyond Craig. If he had the chance, he’d have told the Tweaks to fuck off a long time ago.
But that wasn’t his place. You don’t get to tell of your best friend’s parents. At least not until you’re both eighteen and can do whatever the fuck you want.
Maybe whoever this chick is can set them straight.
The thought leaves him feeling sour, even though he can’t place why. He stabs the last bit of his meatloaf and stuffs in between his molars.
“You don’t seem too excited,” Token noted.
“Dude, it’s like I said! It’s really like meeting someone that clicks with you!” Clyde gushed. “You don’t have to worry! She’s gonna be stoked to meet you.”
Tweek didn’t look comforted. Token and Clyde looked to Craig, expectantly, as if he had some set of magic words that would suddenly get Tweek to cheer up.
He just kept chewing.
“You could’ve said something,” Clyde hissed underneath the chatter in the chem lab.
“I told you I don’t care.” Craig adjusted the amount of gas passing through the burner until he was satisfied. The orange flame died down to a manageable level, blue licking out at the bottom. "Token.”
When he wasn’t greeted by the sight of a rod holding salt being stuck into the flame, he glanced over. Token’s face rested in his hands and he didn’t look pleased. His brown eyes were narrowed in just the slightest of ways. A look of disdain that was stony-faced enough to fit Craig's family.
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what’ me. You’re Tweek’s best friend, you’re supposed to help friends when they’re down." He drummed his fingers on the black countertop, eyes narrowing past Tucker comfort levels. "Even if it’s about something you don’t have any stake in.”
Craig snorted, but that last bit stung. It shouldn’t, but it did.
He’d made plans, plans that he didn’t have to compromise or discuss with another person. His future was his and no one had any ownership over it. He could do what he wanted, he could choose any path he so desired. He imagined traveling with no worries. Most of those travels involved in outer space. Maybe a long, far-fetched dream, but hey, who better to send out into the cold void of space than someone who had no one waiting for him back on earth?
“Yeah, and as his best friend, I can tell you that he’s not going to feel better." He pulled out his lab book and his pencel. "He’s just going to worry until it happens. Salt.”
Maybe he had said it too rushed, too hot, but Token complied nonetheless. Sodium chloride. The flame it produced was firetruck red. Craig watched the flames dance in the color of Clyde's mark before they died back to normal.
“Clyde, your turn.”
“Cool, I wanna do the green one-”
Fuck.
One second he’s watching Clyde shake all the little glass bottles full of ionic compounds and the next he’s clutching his left eye. It hit him like a freight train and tears stream down his face and the pain… God, it’s like he stuck his eye straight into the bunsen burner.
“Craig?” Token had jumped up and rounded the table to him. “Dude, are you alright?”
“No.” Craig rubbed his eye, but the pain didn’t go away. It seared across his left face, like it was actually on fire. “I…”
The chemistry teacher, Ms. Dalton, had apparently overheard and had made a beeline for their table. “What’s going on?”
“I think he got something in his eye,” Clyde said. Before he had the chance to dispute it, Ms. Dalton was dragging him to one corner of the room. She pulled down a lever and two spigots began to shoot out water.
“Keep your eyes open and let the water flush them out.” Her voice was calm but urgent. He considered arguing since he hadn’t gotten anything in his eye, or at least nothing bad, but there was no way he was winning that argument. Besides, it couldn’t hurt. Famous last words.
“Stay here.”
“How long?”
“Fifteen minutes,” she said, her footsteps getting quieter and a new wave of gossip getting louder. Fifteen minutes?!
“Golly, you think he doesn’t have a soulmate ‘cus he’s dyin’?”
Alright, so after school he’d kill Butters. Or at least until his eye calmed down.
Which it wasn’t.
In fact, he could have sworn that the pain was getting worse as time passed. The chatter behind him became a mixture of gossip and scientific discussion and it was starting to grate on his nerves. He leaned in a little bit more to get a stronger stream of water but to no avail.
He didn’t end up staying the entire fifteen minutes because Ms. Dalton is apparently a worrier and called the paramedics. They had salts! Did she think he took an eyedropper of hydrochloric acid and just doused himself?!
When they saw his eye, they gave each other a look. He internally panicked for half a second until one shrugged. “Looks fine to me.”
Apparently, he had to go to the hospital anyway. Something about school protocol. Out of the kindness of their hearts, they ran saline solution in his eye in the ambulance, but it wasn’t until they actually took him into the emergency department that it began to calm down. But just a little.
His mom beat the doctor into the room, the doctor just half-a-second later. The room was small. The tiles were an ugly tan color that reflected light like a mirror. There were a bunch of those pressed wood cabinets that harbored a bunch of medical equipment that he hoped the doc would not need. The doctor sat in a small swivel chair and rolled around in a small circle as he read the hastily scribbled notes on the chart. Then, he asked him a bunch of questions, some that left Craig wondering how they were at all relevant to his eye pain.
“And this just started in class?” he asked, putting on a pair of turquoise nitrile gloves.
“Right.” Craig glanced at his mother who was fixated on the doctor with worry like he might spill out something like “probably cancer.” Nice, that'd be some good material for Jimmy. Like a walking WebMD.
“Does it hurt more if you open it?” he asked before doing just that.
“Not really.”
“Alright, move your eye in a circle.”
He did, watching the world spin as if he were one of Broflovski's goddamn dreidels.
“Well?” His mom was patient, but he could hear the telltale agitation in her voice. “What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing,” he said, stepping back, looking thoughtful. “His eye looks completely normal. A little agitated, but that's to be expected with the constant flushing.”
“It still burns,” Craig said, going back to his now-permanent wink face. The doctor pursed his lips in thought. What a weird thinking face.
“Open one more time,” he finally said and Craig obeyed. But this time the doctor pulled at his eyelid. It took just about everything in him not to push him off.
“Can you show me your mark?” the doctor finally asked, eyebrows knitted together.
“He doesn’t have one,” his mother answered before he could even open his mouth. “He-- Another doctor said that he just didn’t-”
“Good news: he does.” The doc did this sort of...laugh. Craig didn't think this was funny at all. He darted his eyes to his mother's face, who looked just as confused as he felt. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it. On the inside of his left lid…”
The doctor motioned to her and she stood up to take a look.
His mother gave this sort of breathless laugh. “I can’t believe it. Craig, you really do have a mark.”
He said nothing.
“It’s rare, but they can show up in strange places. I had a colleague find one on a person’s pelvic bones,” he explained. But Craig wasn’t listening.
This couldn’t be happening.
Right?
This was insane. He was ready, he had accepted his forever single status and planned for it. He had dreams of moving far away and doing what he wanted. And now…
When he was told definitively he had no mark, it had been an odd shock. Like he’d been numbed with a shot of lidocaine but for his mind. He’d grow old alone and he’d die alone. He would live in some apartment or a house if he could afford it, and it’d be empty except for him and Stripe #∞.
And as weird as that thought was, he had come to terms with it. It was easy to look at the negatives because everyone around you seemed to do it for you. His mom and dad trying to console him even when he didn’t need to be consoled. Tricia acting as if she were stepping on eggshells for the next two weeks. The gossip at school. Clyde, Token, Jimmy, and Tweek’s sympathetic looks. Unnecessary appointments with the school counselor where she talked and he pretended to listen.
He’d been so sick of it.
But he was free. That was the truth that meant the most to him. He wasn’t tied to another person, so he could tie himself to anything he wanted. And he was going to shoot for the fucking stars, goddammit. He was going to send something or himself to Mars, to Alpha Centauri, to what the fuck ever and he was going to rise out from the ashes of all those stupid pity looks and apologetic murmurs.
Okay, so he didn’t know what he was going to do exactly, but he was excited nonetheless.
But the universe had one more middle finger to give.
“...so, what is it?”
“It’s hard to tell, but we have some cameras that might get a good angle to-”
“No.” Craig batted the doctor’s hand away and closed his eye from the sting. “I don’t want to know.”
Both his mother and the doc shared a look of confusion. His mother came to stand next to him from his seat on the bed, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He gritted his teeth.
“Craig, dear, you have a soulmate.”
“Don’t care, don’t want one. Can I go home?”
He didn’t get his answer until after his mom, the doctor, and his dad after his mom had called him up, had tried to convince Craig otherwise. But Craig was a Tucker and Tuckers are stubborn. There would be no pictures that day. His father sighed into the phone and told him to hand it back to his mother. After they spoke, quietly so Craig couldn't hear, his mother shot him an annoyed look. Score Craig for three, his mother...probably a good three hundred at this point.
After missing the rest of seventh period and all of eighth, he got to go straight home. The ride there was tense and quiet which, for Craig, was just fine. What car ride from Hellspass wasn't tense and quiet? He had Clyde text bombing the group chat which left Tweek panicking, Token trying to bring back order, and Jimmy taking advantage of the chaos to spam memes.
After insisting he was fine (debatable) and that his eye stopped hurting (false), Token gave the clear for movie night. Which meant that it was Tweek’s turn to bring the movies and Clyde, Craig, and Jimmy to bring junk food.
Tokens at Chuck-E-Cheese, 3:47PM
You sure you okay?
Craig, 3:47PM
I will be when I get out of this house.
The DonoMAN, 3:48PM
???????
The Tweekster, 3:48 PM
Jesus, Craig, please don’t sneak out again.
Craig, 4:02 PM
I think my mom wants me out of the house atm anyway.
Tokens at Chuck-E-Cheese, 4:05 PM
What did you do?
Craig, 4:07 PM
Nothing. Am I bringing chips or what?
Don’t Rustle My Jimmies, 4:08 PM
Yes! I have the soda. Clyde’s got...idk
The DonoMAN, 4:09 PM
I got that 🐱 😏
The Tweekster, 4:09 PM
Fucking gross, Clyde
Alright, Clyde got a snort out of that one, not that Craig would ever tell him.
South Park was a small town, which meant it was easy to just stroll down to anyone’s house in a matter of a few minutes. Even still, making a trip to the gas station and then Token’s was a pain in the ass that made him wish he’d try asking his mom to use the car. Then again, maybe not.
He was being “contrary” was what his mom said. No, he was just unwilling to change his entire life plan for another person that he didn’t want. But he didn’t say that he just shrugged and told her about movie night and she begrudgingly let him go.
He tried to think back about that seventh period.
Whenever the marks cleared up and soulmates got close enough, they tended to burn until physical contact was made. Usually not as bad as Craig’s pain, but that’s what happens when it’s on such a delicate area. No one had mentioned feeling like they were burning. Leslie and Nelly were the only girls that hadn’t found their soulmate yet in that class. But maybe in the rest of the hall…
No, there was no way. Clyde would be tearing into that gossip and spreading it like wildfire. But it had to be someone. So who hadn’t said anything?
“Sir?…”
Craig snapped his head up. The cashier behind the counter sighed, repeating himself for the third time, “Fourteen seventy-three.”
Craig handed over a ten and a five, took his quarter, dropped the two pennies in the blue cup, grabbed his bags of chips, and braced that cold Colorado winter air. The light pollution from the streetlights kept him from seeing any stars.
It was funny. He had a soulmate and neither of them wanted to know who the other was.
Fucking hilarious.
“Tweek doesn’t get to pick movies anymore!” Clyde shrieked behind his pillow shield.
“It’s not that...bad,” Token said, but his voice betrayed him.
“Jesus f-f-f-fucking Ch-Christ…” Jimmy added.
“Shut up, it’s getting good!” Craig hissed as the mom character repeatedly banged her head on the attic door. Tweek was too busy stuffing his face with a few more cheddar pringles to notice the terror of their friends behind them on the Blacks’ couch.
The three scaredy babies on the couch kept quiet long enough for the movie to end. And what a goddamn ending.
“What movie was that?” Clyde asked as the credits rolled.
“Hereditary.” Tweek was already switching out movies to put in the next.
“Yeah, no, blacklisted. Never again.” Clyde jumped up from the sofa. “Token, I have to go to the bathroom.”
“Then go.”
“I can’t go alone! Not after that!”
“I’m not going to the bathroom with you.”
“Token, I’ll pee in this cup, I swear to god.”
Everyone else watched the ensuing staring match between them before Token eventually gave in, shoulders slumped and defeated. Clyde beamed in sweet, fearful victory.
“Let’s go.”
Jimmy eventually decided to follow after them. Craig waited until he had left the room before popping another chip in his mouth and discreetly rubbing his eye. “Nice pick.”
“Thanks,” Tweek said as he skipped through the advertisements of the next one. “I thought you’d like it.”
That almost made him smile, just a bit at the corners. Craig and Clyde used to be attached at the hip until Token came along. Not that it bothered Craig, they were all friends, but Clyde and Token seemed to be on the same wavelength on a lot of things. It made him a little jealous back in the third grade.
But by the time fourth grade rolled around, Tweek had joined their group. And despite their polar opposite personalities, they had a lot in common. Their love for horror, desire for complete silence, hanging out in the middle of nowhere, staying up all night to do god knows what…
It stung. When people meet their soulmates, they got distant with everyone else. It happened all the time. It happened with Token and Nichole. Token had finally let himself have enough time to actually speak to his friends nowadays, but in the beginning, they hardly saw him at all. Clyde’s match was all the way up in North Park, which made that easier. But Tweek…
Whatever. He knew that already. He knew that eventually they’d all grow apart and he’d be alone (except for Stripe) and he was fine with that.
That’s what he thought anyway. But now that he knew there was a soulmate, his resolve was shaking. Maybe it’d be nicer if Stripe had a second owner, if there was someone waiting for him back on Earth, if he wasn’t old and rickety all alone.
But even if that were true, he’d rather just have his friends. He’d rather hear Clyde’s dumb jokes while they sat in the nursing home, Token chiding them on Bingo nights, Jimmy doing stand-up comedy and roasting all the little kids that came to perform for them, Tweek...
Fuck, he’d miss Tweek.
He reached a hand into the bag of now half-empty Lay’s and bumped into Tweek’s. Craig pulled back. “Sorry.”
And just like that, the pain was gone. The sting in his eye melted away and left only a dull ache from the constant rubbing and prodding. Tweek snapped his head up to look at him, green eyes wild and scared and confused.
Craig jumped to his feet and walked out of the house.
He walked back home in silence for a good three minutes until he heard footsteps pounding against the concrete. “Craig!”
Weird. Out of all the times he could remember someone trying to catch up to him which was a lot with his long legs, he had never felt disappointed when it had been Tweek. Except now.
“Craig, stop.” He did. He could hear Tweek’s breath huff in and out and the quiet buzz of the streetlamps overhead as the shone orange light over them. “Look at me.”
His shoulders slumped, but he turned anyway. Tweek was shaking, from the cold or his nerves Craig couldn’t tell, but he still reached for Craig’s eye. His thumb landed on his brow bone, pushing gently, and Craig let his face loll up to the light.
“I don’t understand,” Tweek whispered.
“It’s on my eyelid. On the inside,” he said.
“You said that you didn’t have one.”
“I didn’t think I did until today.”
“It was literally right in front of your eyes...eye.”
“Yeah, but it gets dark when you close your eyes. That’s how eyelids work, Tweek.”
There was a beat of silence but then Tweek started giggling. Or maybe it was sobbing because there were definitely some tears. Not knowing what to do, Craig just stood there and watched his friend...soulmate?...wipe tears from his cheeks.
“You didn’t tell anyone.”
“I…” Tweek sniffed. “I didn’t want to know.”
“Right.” Craig took a step back and Tweek grabbed his arm.
“I’m glad I do!” he blurted. “I’m glad that I know it’s you, I mean. I’m glad it’s you, that you’re the one.”
Those words made him feel...warm. Relieved, even. And the look that Tweek gave him, a cross between hope and curiosity, made his heart pick up its pace. “Can I, uh, see?”
Tweek looked blank for a moment but then it seemed to click and he held out his palm. It looked...wonky. A big blob of…
“I still don’t know what it is,” Tweek said, holding his palm to the light. “It just looks…”
“Jupiter,” Craig said, now spotting what had to be the Great Red Spot.
“The planet?” Tweek studied his palm, squinting, but his eyes softened. He snickered a little bit. “Right, your favorite…” He smiled a bit, sort of fondly, and that made Craig’s heart skip a beat. “What about yours?”
“Uh, I dunno, they couldn’t tell.” And I wouldn’t let them. He decided he didn’t want to ruin the moment with that last bit. He was pretty sure his mom would give him shit for it later. He tugged at his eyelid. “Can you see anything?”
Tweek pushed himself up on his tip-toes but frowned. “Not really. I m-mean, I see something! I just don’t know what it is…”
Tweek was too close now, he could feel his breath on his face. It smelled like chips and the crisp lemon-lime flavor of sprite. If Tweek were to teeter off balance, he would likely fall into him and God, he sort of wish he would. The next thing he did, he didn’t think about, he just closed the distance. Tweek yelped when their lips bumped.
“Sorry, I-”
“Warn me, holy shit, you fucking asshole!”
Tweek’s face turned the color of those little cherries they keep in syrup and use for desserts. Craig had dropped his lid so his eye wouldn’t dry out and shrivel up. He figured he must be a similar shade of red.
“So, warning. I might want to do that again.”
Tweek licked his lips and laughed. “Thanks.”
The corners of his mouth twitched and he swooped back down for a second time. This time was minus the yelp and replaced with a soft little sigh that made Craig’s head swim. Tweek pulled back.
“We still have movie night. And I’d rather Clyde find out now than at school.”
Craig nodded, sort of in a pleasant daze as he followed Tweek back to Token’s. Tweek’s hand was warm in his. Some part of him wondered what was going to happen to all those future plans, but, he thought as he looked down at their hands, one step at a time. It was alright right now, and that was fine.
“Maybe they can make out whatever the hell is on your eyelid!” Craig grinned at the excitement in his soulmate’s voice.