Yay new story! :D i must hate myself :DDDD also trying something new with the chapters, who knows how this'll go!

Pairings" Creek, Stenny, maybe Token/Wendy

Warnings" there is most definitely a reason this is rated M. trust me.

Enjoy!

a/n

Chapter 1: The Three Things That Happened That Changed Everything Forever

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Round here / we're carving out our names / round here / we all look the same / round here / we talk just like lions / but we sacrifice like lambs / round here / she's slipping through my hands

-Counting Crows, 'Round Here'

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"Son, we haven't found anyone else in South Park willing to adopt."

Tweek looked up at the man, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. He twitched hard, irritation and caffeine combining to almost throw him off his chair. Clutching his Styrofoam cup of awful office coffee to his chest, he made a grunt/whine of abject hopelessness.

Why didn't they understand he didn't want to stay in South Park? He hated it here. Really, REALLY bad things happened to him here, things he just knew wouldn't happen if he were gone.

"I don't GAH! want to stay." He whimpered. The man, who seemed nice enough and was willing to give Tweek as much dreadful coffee as he wanted, smiled and patted him on the head. Tweek twitched. He hated when strangers touched him, because what if they were from the CIA and OH GOD what if they planted a BUG on him!

"I know it's hard. But it'll be fine. Just talk to him, okay?"

Tweek shrugged and twitched, long practice allowing him to perform the simultaneous gestures without spilling his coffee. He supposed once the guy met him he would be freaked out enough by his twitching to leave, and then he could get out of South Park.

The nice man walked out the door, leaving Tweek behind. He twitched and sipped his coffee, which was truly awful, and made a face. He had honestly never believed coffee could taste this awful, and he was trying to decide if it was actually coffee or just finely blended sewage. Oh god, what if it WAS sewage and he got AIDS and DIED!

Panicking, Tweek threw the coffee away from him.

In slow motion he watched the cup spin, liquid spilling everywhere, towards the door. The door began to creak open. Of course. Good things just didn't happen to him.

The cup slammed into the wall next to the door, coffee exploding in a shower of brown. The door finished opening, exposing the stunned but untouched nice man, and an equally stunned but not quite as clean new man.

"Ngh sorry." Tweek mumbled, though he wasn't really sorry at all. He was too busy examining the man splattered in coffee.

He looked… surprised, mostly. Friendly enough. Big, in a square, muscle-y sort of way.

Tweek jumped when the nice man let his arm fall from the door knob.

"Umm… Tweek?"

He sounded so confused. Tweek twitched again. He hated when people wanted explanations. They always got twisted around in his head, and when they came out they were all wrong. And then people HATED him because he couldn't EXPLAIN.

"SORRY!" He tried to say. It came out as a shout. "Too much pressure." The nice man shook his head and looked away. He knew what Tweek was like.

The man that Tweek didn't know, the one who wanted to keep him here, looked from the stain on the wall to Tweek's shaking hands. Tweek fidgeted under his gaze. It was too… intense. That was it. It was trying to see Tweek all the way through, like an X-Ray. OH SWEET TAP DANCING BABY JESUS, what if he was a superhero, and he DID have X-Ray powers! And he hated Tweek for throwing coffee at him and he – OH GOD – decided Tweek was his NEMESIS or something! He didn't have powers! How was he supposed to FIGHT?

"I think I want to adopt him." The man said after a long moment of examination said. He smile had an edge Tweek didn't understand.

"Um ngh can I have some cofee?" Tweek asked, holding out his styrofoam cup to show how empty it was. The man didn't even bother to look.

"We don't drink coffee." The man smiled and patted Tweek's hair. Tweek bit back a shriek of terror. JESUS, without coffee, how could he LIVE? He NEEDED coffee like he needed AIR! Without it he would SUFFOCATE and be thrown out in a GUTTER, where a hobo would FIND him and sell his body parts in AFGHANISTAN! JESUS CHRIST!

"Are you – NGH! – sure?" He asked desperately, mind racing over all the terrible things that would happen to him if he didn't have his beloved coffee. There were too many for Tweek to comprehend!

"Yes." The man said with dismaying firmness, putting Tweek's bags on the table. Tweek twitched and clutched at his hair.

"But I NEED coffee!" He shrieked, starting to panic. "I NEED it to LIVE!" His elbow flashed out in a spaz and knocked hard against the wall, causing him to scream in surprise and pain. Jumping with surprise, he found himself toppling forward.

Only to be met by a slap on the cheek that shook him to his core and somehow calmed his panic.

"There is no coffee here and that is final!" The man bellowed, true anger in his voice. Cowering, Tweek whimpered his agreement. No, he didn't need coffee, of course it wasn't good for him to be drinking it, he was a bad boy for even thinking about it.

"Good. See, all you have to do is be good and we'll get along fine." The man's face broke into a sunny smile and Tweek smiled back hesitantly. It seemed like an easy solution. All he had to do was be good. He could be good.

Kenny watched Kyle climb into the back of the car with the feeling that he was standing on a cliff edge, his toes projecting out into the sky. This was the last time he would ever see Kyle. And it hurt like a motherfucker.

Stan was sobbing in typical faggoty Stan-ish fashion, clinging to Kyle and making a trillion promises to keep in touch and never forget each other. Kenny shrugged and looked away. He might be only ten, but he was smart. He knew how things went.

You lost things. You lost people. If you were lucky you found them again, if you were really lucky they were found before you outgrew them. If you had the luck of a four-leafed clover picked at 11:11 when there was a shooting star overhead on the night of a full moon, you would never lose them again.

Kenny had never considered himself lucky.

But the McCormick's were survivors. They rolled with the punches and somehow, someway, always managed to land on their feet. Like fucking cockroaches. He had to, because no one else could go through what Kenny did and still come back for more.

Kyle patted Stan's shoulder and looked past to Kenny. Their eyes met for a fragment of forever and Kenny saw that Kyle understood the thoughts half-heard in his own mind. They were breaking apart, permanently.

Kenny read the words off of Kyle's lips as he mouthed them.

Keep Stan safe.

Kenny smiled and nodded, understanding perfectly. He gently pulled Stan back, letting Kyle close the door. Kyle waved out the window as his dad slammed the back of the car shut.

The car pulled away with the sound of gravel crunching. Stan held Kenny's hand and continued to sob shamelessly. Kenny thought that maybe gravel under car wheels was the lonely sound in the world.

"Just say you aren't a fag." The voice was deceptively friendly, coaxing. Craig tried to breathe around the shoe on his throat. It was understandably difficult.

"Fuck you." He ground out, managing to work up the energy to lift his favorite finger.

The shoe on his windpipe pulled back slightly and rushed forward, slamming into Craig's chin. He clung desperately to his silence, though he had bitten his tongue so hard blood flowed. Pain radiated through his jaw to his head, like the worst migraine he'd ever had.

"Come on, all you have to do is say it." The coaxing voice was cracking at the edges now, malice and hate leaking through. The smile above him was wavering at the edges, fading like a mirage into the hateful desert.

Craig gathered all the saliva and blood in his mouth and spat.

Clyde stumbled back, wiping the viscous, Pinkish mixture off his face. The look on his face, which had been friendly to match his voice, was now as twisted and hateful as Craig knew he really was.

"You're going to pay." He whispered. His voice was eerily blank.

Craig flipped him off and glared. He was going to take this. And he was going to remember. And someday, when Clyde was on the ground, when he was humiliated and broken just like Craig…

Craig was going to remind him of this. And he was going to make Clyde bleed.

a/n

feedback is apreciated :)