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Pushing Daisies

Chapter Text

It starts with the defeat of the Mitch Conner duo, the pair surrounded by South Park’s divers band of superheroes. At long last the war was over, another villain defeated by his hand. Good won yet again, and with it brings the end of the fighting and bloodshed. At long last he could he could finally go home and rest.

Or, rather, that was what Douchebag wanted to happen. But, as he was learning, nothing ever seemed to go his way in this little mountain town. Exasperated at the fact that he was most likely going to get coined into being a far bigger part of whatever new game they would would no doubt be making up than he would like aside, he had to admit that these games were entertaining and kept him occupied. He’d never really had the chance to play with other kids before, let alone be a part of something as integrate as the stories that they had a tendency to come up with.

The rest of the children cringed as Eric’s mother came in, fury in her normal kind brown eyes from her sons antics. (Which really? Cat piss is what she gets mad at? Not the whole trying to kill people? Yeah, okay, that makes sense.) The children did their best to avoid Mrs. Cartman piercing gaze as she scolded her only son.

The scene brought a familiar sense of unease and distress that Douchebags would rather not pay any mind to, thank you very much. Just focus on fatass’ face well being scolded.
If there was one thing that The New Kid couldn’t get enough of, it was all the different expressions these children displayed without a care or thought. Such a carefree display. A twinge of jealousy passed through him but he pushed it away just like everything else. It was better this way, he got what he wanted after all.

He could hear Mrs. Cartman’s voice begin to fade as she grabbed her child and and started dragging him home. He stayed by the sidelines and watched as the rest of the children began to distrust. Waiting until the last of the children disappeared into the respective houses, he turned and began the trek home.

 


 

He hears laughing coming from the inside of his house instead of fighting and takes a moment just to breathe it in, to revel in the sound of his mother happiness instead of her tears, to his father’s kind words even if they’re not directed at him. It’s a nice change.

He rocks on the balls of his feet for a moment, debating if he should go in or not. Figuring he could spare a few minutes to bask in his parents happiness, he takes a seat outside his door. The frigid air nips at his cheeks and his mother voices floats out from the house behind him.
Douchebag struggles with the want to continue to listen to his parents laughter and the want to not get sick. He could feel his face slowly becoming numb, his fingertips having lost feeling a while ago. One the other hand it isn’t often that he gets to hear his parents be happy, hell it isn’t often that he gets to hear his parents voice at all really.

He takes a single moment longer, straining his hearing to listen to his parents quiet “I love yous” before opening the door.

His parents took no notice of his existence, too lost in the presences of each other. The two snuggled closer together, tucked by each other's side with smiles playing on both of their faces. Such a rare sight, so full of love and happiness. He felt sick looking at it.

They didn’t notice as he closed the door, shifting from side to side. His mother's kind eyes bore into his father as they nuzzled. She gave a breathless sigh as her husband spoke, “This is such a great town, isn’t it?”

His mother turned to him, her smile widening causing his father to chuckle. “I love it here! I’m so glad that all those years ago we decided to come clean about our child’s past. I feel like..” She hummed, tilting her head slightly, “like our lives our different somehow.”

His father’s arms wrapped around her waist, “And I love you. As a matter of fact,” he paused to nuzzle her neck. “I think we have some business to attend to.”

His mother laughed as the two rushed up the stairs, love clear in their eyes. Leaving behind the parting words, “You little sneak!”

The New Kid starred after his parents retreating forms, a sigh escaping silently from his lips. It was better this way, they were better. So much happier than the last time he saw them. (Even if it hurt to see them so happy without him, it was better than them yelling and fighting. It was better. Maybe if he thought it enough he could convince himself it was true.)

He follows them up the stairs, intent on putting this day behind him and actually getting to sleep for once.

He was greeted by Butters when he reached the top of the stairs, the boy donned his Professor Chaos costume. He smiled pleasantly at The New Kid, leaning against the window. Concern shone in his eyes but he made no move to bring up what just occurred.

Butters laughed softly, “You think you’ve done it, don’t cha? Saved the town, stop the bad guy, all that fun stuff, right?” His laughter grew, “Do you really think you can stop bad things from happening? Haven’t you realized that Chaos always catches up to you? You’ve paid your dues, and yet people still turn on you. You’ve tried being a hero.. Why not let your darker side free? There’s always one truth in this life, New Kid, no matter how hard you try, you can’t escape the past.” His smile stretched and his laughter echoed in the small hallway.

Minutes passed with the two locked in a staring contest, it seemed like it could go on forever until…

Chaos left Butters’ eyes and his smile became softer, “Well, gee, New Kid, it sure is fun playing with ya but I gotta get home before I’m grounded!” With a final farewell, the blond boy bounced down the stairs.

Douchebag watched him go down the stairs, tired eyes following his movement. Yeah, he wasn’t even going to question what just happened. He needed sleep.

With one last glance to his parents bedroom, The New Kid walked into his room to get ready for sleep. As he changed from his superhero costume into his pajamas, a small ‘ding!’ sounded from his phone.

A simple message from the Freedom Pals group chat (and man now they we were gonna have to rename the chat) that read: ‘Everyone meet at our table for lunch tomorrow - Kyle’

Seems like he wasn’t even going to get a full day of rest before the others decided to move onto some other insanity.

Great.

Chapter Text

Douchebag sighed as he woke up before dawn, it was unsurprising but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He tiredly rubbed his eye as he sat up on his bed, turning to the window he took a moment to watch the sunrise on the horizon.

 

With the craziness surrounding Coon and Friends and the Freedom Pals, Douchebag had been up at every sunrise and yet hadn’t got to just watch a single one. It was a nice change, to just be able to sit back and take it all in.

 

On the other hand, he was starting to get restless just sitting here.

 

Well, he was already up might as well get dressed and start on breakfast. (And how odd will it be to have a meal without the bitter taste of pills covering his tongue or his parents arguments filling the air around him.)

 

Dressed in usual black long sleeve shirt and gray jeans, The New Kid makes his way down stairs.  Maybe he’ll make pancakes, its been a while since he's had them. Idly, he wondered if they had any chocolate chips- oh or blueberries, blueberry pancakes were always good. (He should make some extra and drop them off at Kenny’s locker before anyone noticed too since he had the time.)

 

Heading into the kitchen he found all the ingredients needed to make pancakes, plus blueberries and chocolate chips. Good start to the day, let’s just hope it stays good.

 

By the time his parents come down the stairs he has the table set and coffee waiting. The last of the pancakes on the stove with a container beside it. His parents trudge into the room, sleep still thick in their eyes as they take their seats without a word. He watches their movements from the corner of his eyes, watching for the first sign of any kind of conflict. It’s the first time in months that his parents have woken up without a hangover. It’s a welcome change, it might take getting some used to though. (None of them comment on the bottles of water or headache medicine placed by the coffee machine, as far as they were concerned they didn’t exist.)

 

They sit around the table, no words between the three of them. But it's more peaceful than he can remember his house being in a long time and Douchebag thinks that he could get used to this kind of silence.

 

He nods his parents a farewell, not bothering to see if they acknowledged him, and makes sure that everything he needs for the day- which includes a certain container full of pancakey goodness. The only issue now was slipping it into Kenny’s locker without the boy noticing… or he could just give it to Karen, she liked gifts and her brother would never deny anything that comes from here. Definitely giving them to Karen was the best bet. (That and he hadn’t seen the youngest mccormick in a few day, he needed to check up on her.)


 

He meets Karen outside of the school surround by Ruby, and Ike. He sends a small nod to the three and hands Karen the container of pancakes without preamble.

 

She smiles as she takes it from him, needing no words to express her gratitude. (The younger children had always understood that better than the others, words were unneeded for the most part with him. A smile served him better than words, lasted longer in his eyes than words did on his ears.)

 

She hands Ruby the container- for safe keeping, he assumes- before giving a small wave and bouncing towards the school. Her two friends follow behind her, each sending him small waves of their own as they walk away.

 

With that done he heads into the school after them, it was time to start another school day.

 

He was sooooo happy.


 

The school day drags on, as it always does when all your teacher decides to teach you is about the Kardashians. Today’s lesson was on whether or not Khloe’s lips were as fake as her ass. (The general consensus was yes, yes they were.)

 

Really The New Kid wasn’t even sure why he was surprised at the lack of proper classes, it’s not like anything had changed from when he first moved here. (But hadn’t it? He became a king, a hero, protector of this town, a confidant, a friend; he became a liar, a keeper of secrets, a shadow of a person, a traitor, a murderer.)

 

A bell rings cutting through his thoughts. Halfway through the day and to everyone’s favorite period: lunch.

 

Bounding towards the cafeteria, he catches the eye of Wendy. She sends a smile his way as she talks with Bebe and Red. He has no doubts that she’ll appear at the table even if it’s just for a little bit. (After all the message had said all Freedom Pals and whether the Coon liked it or not, Call Girl was a Freedom Pal.)

By the time The New Kid entered the cafeteria, a large group had pushed 3 tables together so that they were sitting side by side. Douchebag took an open seat at the end of the table, laying his phone in front of him for communication. He nodded to Butters as he took a seat beside him. (Was he considered a Freedom Pal? Technically he was a villain for a bit, but then again so was Cartman and he’s sitting dead center of the whole fiasco.)

“Golly Douchebag, isn’t this just exciting?” At his nods, Butters beams.

 

“God Buttlord, it's about time you go your ass here,” Cartman sneers at the newest additions. “As I was saying before these fucks walked in and so rudely interrupted me,” causes  a collective eye roll from the table and a signature flip off from Craig.

“Last night I came up with a new game”

 

“Shut up, fatass, you did not! Stan and I were the ones who came up with the idea.”

 

“Nuh huh Kahl, you and your little boyfriend were too busy being gay and left me to do all the work.”

 

“Goddammit Cartman, that’s not what happened and you know it.”

 

“Whatever, Jew, the important thing is a new game has been made. And it's even better than those old games we were playing.”

 

Before anyone could retort Wendy took the seat on the right of him. Without acknowledging Cartman's protest of her joining, she turned to Kyle.

 

“So what exactly is this new game about?”

 

“First off, it’s not a game, secondly no girls .” Eric glared at the ravenette.

 

“Shut up fatass, everyone can join,” Kyle snarled at the larger boy before turning to Stan. “Stan can explain it better than me.”

 

Stan perked up at hearing his name and smiled at his on again off again girlfriend. “So it’s going to be teamed based, naturally. Were going to have the ‘Order’, the “Rebellion’, and then there is going to be the ‘neutrals’. The Order and Rebellion are the two main fractions and are going to be the two that do all the fighting.”

 

“One of the main objections is going to be trying to convince the neutrals- everyone who isn’t part of either groups meaning adults, and the other kids.” Kyle chripped from beside Stan, turning from his conversation with Jimmy.

 

“And this time everyone can play from the beginning! Which means,” Stan placed his hand over Wendy’s. “We can be on the same time together and protect the town side by side.”

 

Wendy smiled back him, nodding her head but said nothing in return.

 

“EY!” Eric's screech brought the tables attention. “No making teams yet, fuckers.”

 

“Well, golly guys this sounds fun and all but however we gonna know who’s on what team?” Butter’s frowned.

 

“Well, Kenny came up with this neat idea for insignias.” Kyle answered.

 

The New Kid tilted his head and Butter mimicked the action. Their question silently asked.

 

“We’re not sure on what insignias yet though,” A muffled voice cut through as Kenny approached the table in his hand was a familiar looking container.

 

Good, it was empty. Kenny must have eaten with Karen today. (If there was one thing Douchebag could count on it was Karen making sure her brother ate no matter how much he protested that he felt like a charity case. He’d eat if only to make her happy.)

 

“We’re gonna give it a few for the teams to come together and create their own insignias.” Kenny continued, making eye contact with The New Kid. “When the time is up and the teams have been decided then the battles begin.”

 

“Let me get this right,” Wendy huffed. “It’s basically going to be exactly like the superhero game where the teams are trying to win by popularity?”

 

“Not exactly, it's more along the lines of a mix of the Stick and Superhero game. You want people to trust your team while turning them away from the opposing team.” Kyle explained.

 

“Okay, then how do you win?”

 

“Jeez, bitch, what’s with all the questions? No one's forcing you to play.”

 

“Oh, no, I’m playing,” a smile stretched on Wendy’s face. “I’m just trying to figure out how to win.”

 

Jesus, Douchebag forgot how scary Wendy could be when she wanted.

 

The bell rang, stopping the conversation before it could go any deeper. As interesting as that was, Douchebag was tired so the sooner he could get through the rest of his classes the better. Besides, Kenny had been staring at him the entire time he spoke and Douchebag would rather avoid that conversation for as long as possible. (He liked helping them out. He wanted to and it was no problem, but Ken didn’t see it the same way.)

 

They began to disperse with a final shout from Kyle to message him or Stan with any questions. Douchebag gathered his things as quickly as he could without making it noticeable that he was trying to rush out of the cafeteria.

 

His heart nearly lept out of his chest when someones hand landed on his shoulder as he exited the cafeteria. With a silent plea to whatever beings were out there for it to not be Kenny, Douchebag turned around.

 

Wendy stood behind with a smile on her face, “Hey, New Kid! Are you doing anything after school today?”

 

Douchebag shook his head ‘no’ and the smile on Wendy’s face grew.

 

“Great! I need you to meet me in gym after school today, okay?”

 

With a nod in agreement Wendy let’s go of The New Kids shoulder and walks down the hallway to her class.


‘Wonder what that’s about?’ Oh well that was a problem for future Douchebag.

 

A small ‘ bzzt ’ altered him of a new message. After fishing the phone out of his pocket the name ‘ Leo ’ lighting up the screen. Taking a moment to wonder why Butters would be messaging him when they just saw each other, he opened the message.

 

Leo: I need a favor.

 

Me: What’s up, Leo?

 

Leo: I need you to meet me at the gym after school.

 

Me: You too?

 

Leo: What do ya mean?

 

Me: Wendy asked me to meet her at the gym too. Is there something going on I don’t know about?

 

Leo: Well gee, I’m not sure. I just gotta talk to ya real bad but if you’ve already got plans…

 

Me: Nah, it’s fine. I’ll already be there anyway. I’ll meet you there.

 

Leo: Thanks! :)

 

Me: Anytime.


One last class, that was all he had to make it through. One more class and several meetings and he could go home, sleep for a few hours and maybe work on some homework. Scratch that last one, the teacher still hadn’t picked up last weeks homework.

 

One more class spent mindlessly doodling inside his notebook instead of paying attention. (Seriously what were they even teaching these kids? The different types of botox is not something a child typically learns in school.)

 

Or rather that’s how Douchebag figured he’d spend it, what he didn’t expect however was to pelted in the side of the head by a paper ball. Douchebag glared at the offending wad that ripped him out of his thoughts, carelessly brushing it off of his desk Douchebag started to drift yet again. Only be hit in the head again by another wad of paper.

 

Seriously, that had to be intentional.

 

Looking around he caught Craig very pointedly staring at him. When Douchebag raised an eyebrow, Craig mouthed the word ‘Open’. Groaning silently at his life he picked the paper off of his desk and unfolded it.

 

   ‘meet me n tweek in the gym after school, nk

                                       -craig

                                                                         P.S Fuck you’

 

Seriously, four people wanted to meet him at the gym? What was his life, some cliche story? Whatever so long as it wasn’t another couples therapy. He sent a nod to Craig and resigned himself to his fate.

Chapter Text

The final bell couldn’t ring fast enough. Douchebag was tired , he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. (He knew though, that this was the type of tired that didn’t go away with sleep. It clung to his bones and dragged him as he walked, it left him drained and wary.) But, he had a promise to keep ( three promises to keep) so when the bell finally sounded he shoved his work into his backpack and left the room.

 

In the back of his mind, he figures he could have at least waited for Craig and ask what he and Tweek wanted instead of having to meet up with everyone at once in the gym but oh well. Craig obviously wasn’t in any kind of hurry to have their talk or he would have stopped him.

 

Besides it gives him some much needed alone time to just be with his thoughts. With all of the craziness that’s been happening since he moved here, aliens, underpants gnomes, nazi zombies, mutant cousins, many ass-faced cats, y’know the works, he hadn’t had much time to just take a moment by himself and breathe.


He was at the gym far quicker than he would have liked but on the plus side he supposed that after this he could go home and just chill out for a bit. As far as he knew there wasn’t nothing crazy that needed his attention that night and everyone had already agreed to continue the conversation for the new game at lunch again tomorrow so he wasn’t worried about that. Though, there were probably going to be some messages in the Freedom Pals group chat, hopefully one of which would be a new name for said chat.

 

He wasn’t surprised to see that only Wendy had beaten him here, she just had that way about her. No matter where she was if she said she was going to be there all you had to do was blink and suddenly there she was. It was on of the things he appreciated the most about Wendy, she understood the importance of time.

 

The two changed smiles before Wendy began to speak, “Right on time as always, New Kid.”

 

He nodded his thanks and raised an eyebrow at her. Might as well get on conversation over before the others got here.

 

As if on cue the garage doors opened and in walked Butters. The blond boy brightened at the sight of the other two and he bounced his way over to them.

“Well golly fellas, you sure got here soon,” He chirped, stopping beside Wendy. The two locked eyes and understanding flashed in Butters’ eye as his smile widened.  

 

“Well,” Wendy’s cool voice spoke up. “Now that everyone is here we can- what? Why are you shaking your head?”

 

Douchebag fished his phone of his pocket and wrote a quick message ‘Craig and Tweek asked me to meet them here last period, they should be on their way.’

 

Glee overtook Butters’ face as Wendy let out a small laugh.

 

“It seems,” she smirked, “that we all had the same idea.”

 

‘And that is?’

 

“Well, we’ll just have to wait until they get here to see won’t we?”

 

The smile on Wendys face didn’t waiver even when Douchebag gave her his most unimpressed look.

 

The New Kid sighed and just gave Wendy a nod. There was no use fighting with her and by the way Butters’ was smiling and very pointedly not meeting his eyes, Douchebag knew he wasn’t going to be able to get any information out of the blond.

 

A few moments of silence passed between the occupants of the gym before the doors opened yet again. Craig and Tweek walked hand in hand through the doors, Craig whispering words to the ever so slightly twitching blond. Tweek’s twitching steadily got more controlled under his boyfriends watchful eye, and after regulating how much coffee he drank (and insuring that none of it came from his parents crack blend) the twitching was barely noticeable now.

 

Tweek squeaked when he noticed the other occupants in the room while Craig just raised an eyebrow carelessly. Whatever, it was the noirette’s fault for pegging Douchebag in the head instead of just walking up and talking to him or texting him like, y’know, a normal person would have.

 

Butters’ offered the new comers a small smile, hoping to ease some of the twitchy blond’s tension while the New Kid just gave a small nod towards the two.

 

Wendy smiled wide as the two walked deeper into the gym, her eyes glinting with unconcealed amusement.

 

“Well now that everyone has finally arrived,” she paused for a moment to turn to Douchebag for confirmation. Once he nodded she continues, “we can finally get down to business.”

 

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “And what business would that be?”

 

Wendy leveled him with an unimpressed stare and raised her eyebrow, her entire face screaming ‘really?’

 

Tweek gave his boyfriend a small nudge, giving Wendy and small nod. “Ack! C’mon Craig, stop being an ass.”

 

The raven haired boy huffed begrudgingly. “Whatever you say, honey.”

 

Douchebag barely caught the snort that threatened to rise from his throat. Watching those two never got old, a little annoying at times sure, but it was nice most of the time. Warm and comforting.

 

“Well golly guys, I agree with Wendy. It’s gettin’ late and I can’t stay much later or I’ll get in trouble,” Butters said.

 

“You’ll get in trouble anyway,” Craig deadpanned. “I don’t see the big deal.”

 

“Be that as it may,” Wendy interjected smoothly. “I have a student council meeting soon so let’s not anymore time.”

 

Craig rolled his eyes but nonetheless nodded, wrapping his arm around Tweeks waist.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s start.”

 

Wendy grinned, turning to Douchebag. “With pleasure.”

Chapter Text

New Kid collapsed on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. If he could he’d be screaming right now but since he can’t he’d settle for banging his fist on his bed. Seriously why is this his life?

All he wanted to do was get through school, maybe make some friends, oh and maybe get his voice back. Yeah, that’d be good.

But nooo of course that’s not what’s going to happen. Instead he's already fought aliens, Nazis, literal elder gods, mutant sixth graders, a mutant cousin of the kite and Morgan Freeman. He has fought the actual honest to god Morgan Freeman, what the fuck.

A strangled groan slip past his lips as he forced himself to sit up. At this point The New Kid wasn’t even sure why he was questioning the absurdity of it all, it was like this town existed solely to fuck its occupants over.

A ‘bzzt’ tore him from his thoughts, the screen displaying Wendy’s name. The screen darkened momentarily before lighting up again, this time with Butters name. He can’t stop the small smile that grows on his face as his phone continues to go off at each different message.

He’s startled at the warmth that floods his chest at seeing Tweeks sporadic typings and Craig's seemingly cold comforting, that grows from Butters quiet encouragement and Wendy’s calm leadership.

He can’t bring himself to mind.

______________________________________________________________________________
Stan can’t help but stare when Wendy walks into the school. There is a smile on her face and coldness in her eyes while the student body stares. Her head is held high- but then again when isn’t it? At first glance nothing seems to be out of the ordinary but with a second glance it's glaringly obvious. On her coat a wolf head is pinned. The chosen insignia of the Rebellion. The chosen insignia of the Order’s enemies, of Stan’s enemies.

On his coat a falcon’s head is raised. Beside him, Kyle wears the same insignia on his coat. All he can do is stare at her, he wants to feel hurt - he does feel hurt, just not as much as he expected. He feels hurt that she didn’t talk to him, didn’t even ask if he wanted to join with her, didn’t even ask what side he was going to choose. (He understands that they are separate people, they make their own choices but he can’t help feeling a little betrayed. She had seemed as excited as he was to finally have a game where they could be on the same side, he would have understood if she would have just spoke with him first. He would have, right?) Mostly, he just feels a mixture of tiredness and anger. Tired that they’re on opposite sides yet again, tired that she doesn’t even look the slightest bit remorseful when her eyes meet his, tired that there was something more than he was that compelled her to join the other side and angry, so very angry. Angry at the way she met his eye like it was nothing, angry at the way he was so jealous of this unknown factor, angry at himself for assuming she’d join him given the chance.

Wendy is flanked by three others. On her right is Butters, the wolf insignia is a stark contrast to his usual pale blue cardigan and there is a glint in his eyes that only comes out as Chaos. Stan’s frown grows. Butters’ was notorious for playing villains, hell most of them figured it’d be a carbon copy of the Superhero game. There’d be two teams and then the odd ones out, like Butters, would do whatever they could to get into the game and most likely become roadblocks that made the game more interesting. If the Rebellion had Butters does that mean they were declaring themselves bad guys?

No, Wendy wouldn’t do that. She was all about peace and being on the right side of justice. Right?

He sighed, this was no time to go down that particular rabbit hole. On the left of Wendy was Tweek, twitchy easily startled Tweek… what? The insignia looked to have been pinned hastily to his unevenly buttoned shirt. His hand is twitching every so often by his side but for the most part he keeps his eyes straight and focuses on something Stan can’t see. It’s a little breathtaking honestly. Tweeks displaying a confidence that normally comes out when he's pissed or when he’s in the ring, but everything about him screams calm, well as calm as Tweek can be, Stan supposes.

Bringing up the rear is Craig. Technically it’s more like walking behind Tweek with his hand on his back but that’s neither here nor there. Craig’s insignia hangs on the collar of his jacket like it was pinned there at the last minute and without a care. His glare ghosts over everyone in the hall as it always does but there is a subtle difference in the sharpness of his eyes and the way he walks. His signature finger is flipped at all the prying eye without a care, a ghost of a smirk plays on his face when his eyes fall on Stan and Kyle’s own team insignia.

Despite the formation not a single person seems to be the main focus of the group, they all gather the attention of hallway equally.

No one in the hall wants to be the firsts ones to break the silence, each waiting with bated breath for another to do so for them. There was no sound aside from the proclaimed Rebellion members steps. Unable to take it anymore Stan shuts his lockers, fury in his movement as he turns to face his new enemies head on.

Fine, if Wendy wanted an enemy than an enemy she would get. Stan squared his shoulders as she neared him, his eyes narrowing at her smile.

He opened up his mouth and---

The school doors slammed open.

Chapter Text

Cartman.

 

Of course it would be Cartman, who else would just slam open the doors like he owned the place? Stan rolled his eyes at the bigger boys antics, eyes ghosting over him momentarily searching for the falcon insignia that was sure to be present on the other boys coat.

 

It's not there.

 

The insignia, the proof that the group- that his best friends- were all on the same side wasn’t there. The proof that they were going to be in the fight as a team for once, was nowhere to be seen. Instead pinned on the center of his coat a wolf head shines mockingly.

 

Stan can feel the acid rise in his throat, tearing at his lungs and burning him from the inside out.

 

Cartman, and Wendy. Cartman and Wendy were going to be on the same team. At this point he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry. He’s torn between a crushing sense of betrayal and an undeserved sense of triumph. One one hand, two people he expected to be on his team this time around are his enemies (he hoped they’d be together this time, the gang and Wendy would be unstoppable so why) but on the other Cartman and Wendy on the same team basically means an easy win for the Order. The two are great leaders in their own rights but together? Normally one would think they’d be unstoppable instead their usual animosity would be their downfall.

 

Cartman catches his eye, and it's all Mitch Conner. All cunning and ruthlessness wrapped in charisma that shouldn’t fit so well on Cartman's’ face.

 

Stan startles when he feels Kyle place a hand on his shoulder. The shorter boys eyes locked onto the very same insignia that shock Stan to the core. Fury in his eyes as a snarl pulled at his lips. Without a single word the redhead turns on his heel and drags Stan down the hall with him, the only sound is their footsteps echoing.


Cartman could feel laugher bubbling in his throat as he watched Stan and Kyle stalk down the hallway, pride squashing down any feelings of loneliness that he refused to acknowledge. It was fine . It was his choice, he wanted it this way after all.

 

It had to be this way, he was the strongest. He was the strongest. (If he kept repeating it then it had to be true, right?)

 

The only thing that makes it better, that eases the ache that he refuses to acknowledge, is the shadow that lingers for just a moment after his arrival. That takes them all in with the same look, all equal on the playing field, no one greater than the other. Each part important to the whole to survive. He can’t help preening even as the figure turns down the hall, his fingers already twitching to confirm the praise he knows will be waiting for him on his phone.


It was too easy to sway their eyes. To capture their attention and keep their eyes so that he could move freely and they relished in it. Relished in being finally being a light whose shadow was used to illuminate instead of darkening, relished in being able to allow him a freedom that he could not attention for himself.

 

Chaos trumed in his veins as Stan’s eyes flicker over them, starting with Wendy and growing increasingly angry as he takes in their confidence, their camaraderie born from only a few days as a team, a proper team. Butters has to stop himself from laughing at the look on everyone faces as Cartman slams open the doors and claims the spotlight for his own. No one notices the small shadow in the background gazing at them with such bright eyes before slipping away. No one notices how their eyes train on the fleeing shadow rather than the hoards around them. He was proud of them, came to watch as they made their claim.

 

He watches with barely contained glee as Stans eyes darken even more, more night now than the ocean Butters can normally imagine being swept away in and he wants to feel bad, god he wants to feel so bad because watching as Kyle’s own eyes flash understanding before turning into steel with the same fiery determination Butters swears could take down nations, he can’t help but feel vicious. He is standing in this group that has caused these ripples, he was standing here next to Craig, and Tweek, next to Wendy for god’s sake. He can’t bring himself to feel ashamed, not over the confidence that comes by being surrounded by people who wanted the same thing as him.

 

Sure, right now most of them see him still as Chaos (he is Chaos, he will always be Chaos. There is nothing that could take that away from him, not when he was all alone just hoping for someone to reach out their hand and tell him that he could be good not, especially not now that he has finally found what his Chaos calls to) and he’s fine with that. They’ll come around, they all flocked together subconsciously for better or for worse, and they’ll get along if only for his sake. Right now, that’s all he needs. He’s kind, and he has patience that stretches a mile long, he can be patient and bring them to him to ensure this team stays together, to ensure that he is happy.

 

He wants to be good, that all he’s ever wanted. That’s all he still wants surround by these former heros, surround by all he has ever wanted to be. The desire sinks deep into his bones even now, but he know without a doubt that if this group needed Chaos instead of Butters to make it work, to make him happy, he would do it without a thought.

 

He’d do what he must for him, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.


Wendy can’t bring herself to tear her eyes off of Stan, even after he has moved on to scan the others beside her. Part of her bristles at the scrutinizing gaze that he passes over them, sizing them up as if he could understand them - understand their world- with only a glance and nothing more, another part of her feels pity. She can see the hurt in his eyes as they keep flickering back to her, trying to make sure that it's real, that she truly choose to go against him even now that nothing was stacked against her. Can see the anger that slowly starts to overtake the hurt as he stares at her companions, the frown that tugs one his lips as he takes in Butters and she know without a doubt that in his mind they are the ‘bad guys.’

 

She can’t bring herself to care, not when she notices the way a shadow stands vigilant near the edge of the hall. Close enough to see but not distract, close enough to see the bright eyes and know their hidden meaning.

 

She can’t bring herself to care, not when she thinks of the world out there that she seeks to help, not when she thinks off all the good she be able to do with all of them by her side, with him by her side.  Not when she sees Stan’s jaw clench and his lips thin, when his eyes finally snap back to hers.

 

She can’t bring herself to care even when the doors slam open behind and she know without a doubt that Cartman has made his grand entrance, that he has stolen the eyes of everyone around them. Not when she watches the shadow linger momentarily before disappearing once again.

 

Not even when she notices Stan’s eyes loss their bright depths and sink in darkness, when he makes the connection between the insignia on their coats. There’s confusion in his that clashes with the anger she knows is pumping through his veins, and she watches as the anger slowly overtakes the confusion. The details don’t matter to him, never have in the long run when all he saw was the end of the tunnel.

 

A fond smile pulls on her lips as she thinks of the times he’s spoken about their future together. Marriage, a house, 2.5 kids and a dog. The perfect life. The end of a journey.

 

Even then she doesn’t regret the choice that she made, not when she notices Chaos shift on her right, can feel the raw power than sings from his veins, not when The Wonder Duo stand by her side with all the intent to fight alongside her even now when the game technically started yet. Especially not when she can partially feel Cartman preen from behind her, a complex mix of self-hatred and confidence that he’s perfected.

 

They’re going to change the world.

 

That’s what he needs from them after all, maybe not what he asked, but what they want to give him.

 

Idly, as she watches Stan turn and walk down the very same hall that he disappeared down not long ago, she wonders if Stan will forgive her even for this selfishness.

 

In the end, she still can’t bring herself to care.


 

Tweek wants to scream, he can feel every pair of eyes on him. Watching his every move, he’s jittery in a way that he has become unfamiliar with the lack of his parents crack-laced coffee coursing through his veins, but with Craig's hand on the small of his back makes it better. Helps ground him and lets him think rationally. Or well as rationally as he can anyway.

 

He wants to focus solely on Craig’s hand, but frankly he can’t. Instead he lets Craig’s hand ground him as he searches the crowd for a very specific set of eyes. He’s not surprised when he find them huddled in the back, a small unconscious berth between him and the rest of the occupants in the hallway.

 

He can feel his back straighten slightly, Craig’s hand going to curve around his hip as he no doubt as notice the lone presence. He can feel a smile curve on his lips, lopsided and stretched just a little too wide that shows just how uncomfortable he truly is, but a smile nonetheless. Can feel from the way Craig takes a small step into his space that he’s smiling as well. Soft, just a barely there curve to his lip. But amazing.

 

He lifts his chin up and leans into the presence behind him, all while looking on the shadow in the corner.

 

In this moment, right here, right now, Tweek feels like he can do anything. With Craig and him on his side, there’s not a thing that could best him.

 

And, as he takes a small moment to glance to the side as the door slings open to reveal Cartman, he knows he isn’t the only one.

 

No, will him in their corner, there isn’t anything that could stand in their way.

 

So long as he’s there, they can do anything.


Craig just wants this to be over already. He hates people on a good day, and all these damned eyes aren’t doing anything to ease his mood. One solace he finds, is Tweek's back beneath his hand. The way his spine curves beneath his finger tips, watching as his ribs expand with each breath that he takes.

 

Though, that’s not the only good thing about today he supposes as he scans the crowd.

 

He finds him there, tucked away at the edge of the hall, seemingly content to watch from the sidelines. Which is laughable because for as long as Craig has known him, he’s always in the depth of everything that goes down in hellscape of a town.

 

He can feel Tweek straighten as he slides hand to curve around his hop and Craig can feel a smile twitch at his lips at how in sync they are again.  He gives into the temptation to get even closer to his boyfriend and can barely contain the sudden urge to preen when he feels Tweek step back ever so slightly into him.

 

He catches the eye of the lone figure in the background, and he wants to flip him off, wants to call out to him. But he can’t. Because the spotlight is on them for a reason.

 

But as the door slams open and Cartman comes barging in with all of his self-assured glory, and Craig can feel the anger bubble inside him, can feel it like a disease when he thinks of the last time they were on the same team, before that disappears back into the depth as he watches the lone shadow figure flee down the hall with a sound.

 

Not for the first time, Craig wonders if he understands everything that he’s capable of, of everything that he’s done.

 

And then he thinks back to the soft encouragements and denial and decides, that no. He hasn’t the faintest idea of what he’s done for them, what he’s done for Craig.

 

But he will.

Chapter Text

The entire hall moved as one once Stan and Kyle fled down the hall, some move closer to the newly formed Rebellion. Bebe flocks toward them without thought, her best friend is at the helm of this new group after all. She can’t deny; however, that Wendy is not the only reason she comes to the Rebellion.

 

They burn with radiance that shouldn’t be possible with how new the whole thing is, it's only been a month since the speculation of the new game floated through these school halls, only three weeks since everyone was given the okay to go and find whatever group they wanted to join, but they move as though they’ve always been one, as though they can’t be complete without one another. (Even Eric, she notes absently, too lost in the fire blazing in Wendy’s eyes, moves in near sync with them. A little unsure and awkward, but still brilliant. Still at home.)

 

Bebe didn’t seek a group out, content to follow were Wendy leads no matter the group, but she can’t help the awe that overcomes her as she takes them in the closer she gets. When one moves, they all shift to cover the openings, when one gazes ahead the others watch the sidelines, the blind spots that no one else would notice. When they move it is as a whole, each person just a clog in the machine that has become of them. Deadly and graceful with only days as a team.

 

She remembers how the teams moved against Clyde at the end of Zaron, remembers the awkwardness that came from the opposing side, came from the boys working alongside the girls, and she searches now. Scans them for that same weakness, and can only grin when she finds none.

 

She comes to the Rebellion for Wendy, for the girl who has shown her time and time again that the world is far bigger than her shoe closet or her latest crush, who has shown her that beauty can be deadly, intelligence can be wielded like a knife.

 

She comes for Wendy, who has shown her how to be more than she ever thought she could be.

 

Normally that alone would be enough to make her stay, not this time. She’ll stay. But it’s not for Wendy, who has never needed her to shine brightly. No, this time she stays for herself.

 

Maybe she’ll finally learn how to shine.


 

Heidi titters at the edge, a battle waged within herself. She tooks not of how brightly the Rebellion shine, how seamlessly they move, how they drew eyes like stars and there is a deep-seated want that festers in her veins growing impossibly large.

It comes crashing down, want and desire clashing with fresh anger and self-loathing. Eric stands at the back of the brilliant group, and even though she pleads to herself she cannot look away.

 

And she wants so badly to take steps forward, to be a part of this brilliance that everyone basks in. But she can’t.

 

She recalls the suffocating feeling of anger rising in her throat, can feel the shackles of what she become under him dragging her down. She remembers how much she changed with him, the journey of losing herself so fully.

 

She feels sick.

 

Heidi sallows harshly, her throat dry as she spins on her heel. She wants so badly to be a part of their group, but she can’t.

 

She won’t let herself be swept away again.