Tweek looked up at the stars, breathing out softly. From behind him, music blasted out from the interior speakers and a tall figure crouched down next to him, his hand slowly drifting through the air, fingers brushing against the light hairs of a pale stretch of skin. Tweek froze, and stood up, looking down at his stalker.

"You're still here." It wasn't a question. Tweek nodded, staring down at his feet. The smell of alcohol wafted near his nose, and he flinched, but held his ground, shivering in the centre of drafts of cool air circulating.

"You want me to show you a good time?" It was a question. Tweek didn't want to spend a second longer with the drunken man, nor did he want to know his definition of "a good time". He stayed silent, solemn.

"Come here." The moon cast a sudden light over them, or perhaps it was the porch lights, and Tweek saw, for the first time, what the person looked like. He had dark, shaggy hair, grey, bloodshot eyes, a long, sloped nose and a thin pair of lips. Tweek was certain he had never seen him before.

A grip was placed on his arm, and Tweek knew better than to struggle; there was no one sober to help him. He should never have come, never had watched his friends get wasted as he watched with diluted pupils. He should have known better than to gate crash a party, him, a 16-year-old, that was predominantly for men and woman around 25 years old. He was in trouble, and it was his fault.

Tweek was laid on a bed, and he resisted a sneeze as the musty fumes entered his nose. He was vaguely aware of a couple kisses being thrown on his face as his top was taken off. The rest was hazy as the darkness pulled him in.

Tweek screamed when he woke up. He hadn't had a nightmare, but the situation he was in was even worse. He was half naked, wearing only his dark skinny jeans, and his arms were pinned under the slender body of what looked like a 19-year-old. The person in question stirred, his eyelids opening and revealing a set of cobalt eyes. It was the same person from last night.

Tweek trembled as the guy sat up, rubbing at his head. "You alright?" Tweek wasn't sure. He had no idea whether his virginity had been taken or not, just as he didn't know where his friends were. He opened his mouth, then shut it again, before squealing as a grip, once again, was placed on his arm.

"Hey, shh, calm down." The man sighed. "Listen, I didn't…do anything. You're just a kid." Tweek frowned. True as it was, he felt offended. "Uh, my name is Craig." Tweek looked him up and down, figuring he did indeed look like a Craig.

Craig was about to talk again, before two men in uniforms burst in, holding guns in front of them. Tweek yelped as Craig swore, grabbing him around the waist and within seconds, hurling them out the first floor window. Shards of glass littered his body, some dropping to the floor and the rest digging into his skin, but he was rushed down the street, his head spinning.

"S-stop!" He cried, and Craig did, on the corner of the pavement, just for a minute. He grabbed Tweek's shoulders, and Tweek fought the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, in an instinct to brace himself for injury. Craig rolled his eyes.

"Listen, kid, I'm sorry, but the cops are after us, well, me. If they find me, they'll find you too, and - and you reek of drugs – they'll haul you off to jail as well. Is that what you want?" Tweek's eyes welled with tears as panic and fear hit him.

"I don't know!" Tweek yelled. "S-screw you!" Without another thought, he brought his knees up and Craig released him, groaning. When he did, Tweek started running again, before the houses started to blur and the skies around him began to shake – that time, he didn't stop.

Until, a heavier body jumped on top of his, knocking him to the ground. Tweek wasn't sure who it was, but knew something awful happening was inevitable, be it a cop or Craig. Indeed, it was the latter noirette, but he didn't have a gun and a badge, or even a clenched fist, just a pissed expression.

Then Tweek was running for another time.

Run, run, as fast as you can

Tweek slumped down in the corner, his legs and arms aching. The room was dark, shady, but that was due to the curtains being closed, and so he had no legitimate idea what time it was. He heard Craig scatter about, doing mundane tasks like closing the door and putting away the key, before venturing over to him, sitting right in front of him, and passing him a large grey top to cover himself with.

"W-where are we?" Tweek asked, petrified, pulling the top on. He knew that was the bit where he got raped by the insane criminal kidnapper, yet, he just wanted to stall some time. Craig turned away and switched on the lamp upon the coffee table about 3 feet away from Tweek.

"We're at my apartment. Welcome home." Craig answered bitterly, before leaning against the grubby coach, staring at Tweek. Tweek felt uncomfortable, and looked around the room in curiosity. It was a very small place, and it lacked a good deal of furniture. It had things like the coffee table, but not a normal table for the chairs – it was extremely disorganised, not the ideal place to reside. Tweek twitched at that concept.

"Listen, kid," Tweek snapped his head towards him. "I'm sorry I got you into this… But you gotta hear me out." Tweek didn't say anything. "I was lying before. You won't go to jail." Tweek knew it. Time to get raped. "But I need you – otherwise, I will." Tweek tilted his head. "You're the perfect hostage. Just stick with me for a few weeks and I should be able to leave this goddamn country, with no one harmed." Tweek was busy trying to scale the wall backwards.

"My full name is Craig Tucker." Tweek slowly looked up. The name was familiar, but not in a "my father know's yours" way. "I'm a drug dealer. I'm one of the wanted by a lot of forces over the states, but they never catch me. I'm too good for that." Tweek didn't think he was too good, if he needed some twitchy blonde kid to help him.

"All you gotta do is play along with whatever I say and do, and we won't have any problems." Craig said evenly, lighting a cigarette. At least, it might have been a cigarette. Tweek thought about the instruction. Pfft. Sure he can trust the guy who took advantage of him, made him run for gnomes know how many miles and then holed him up in his dump of a home.

There was silence, for a while. "Hungry?" Craig asked, getting up to go into the Kitchen. Tweek shook his head. Craig would most definitely put some sedative in the meal. Craig rolled his eyes and walked into the Kitchen, returning half an hour later with a plate of grilled cheese and a clear sight of Tweek in the exact same position.

"What's your name?" Craig asked, taking a bite out of the toastie. Tweek debated telling him or not, then opted to. He didn't think anything worse could happen by giving Craig that sliver of information.

"Tweek Tweak." Craig snorted in laughter and Tweek scowled. That was usually the reaction. Craig's sandwich had nearly been cleared already, and Tweek knew it was only a matter of time before his virginity was indefinitely taken. He got desperate. "I'm also 16 and, um, I've never, well," He gulped. "I've never had s-sex and y-you'll probably get into even more t-trouble if you do so –" Craig cut him off.

"The fuck? I won't rape you." Craig shook his head, gulping down his last morsel of food. "Is this about last night? Ki- Tweek, I was wasted out of my mind. I wouldn't fuck you – that's just sick. Even for me." Tweek wondered what he meant by that. What was some of the less high scale things Craig had done? "You're just a child."

Tweek bit down on his lip before he couldn't hold his anger back. "I'm not a child! I'm only three years y-younger than you!" Tweek cried, outraged. Craig set the plate aside with raised eyebrows.

"What are you trying to do, convince me?" Tweek went beetroot. "Besides, you're wrong, I'm 23." He corrected, and Tweek furrowed his eyebrows - Craig looked quite young. Craig sighed. "You should get some sleep. I guess you can say we have a long day tomorrow." Tweek nodded mutely and curled up in the corner.

Craig went to put his plate in the sink and huffed as he saw Tweek already fast asleep in that spot. Gingerly, he wrapped his arms around the boy and carried him into his own room, lying him down on the bed and pulling the moth-bitten, gingham covers over him. He stayed watching Tweek for a minute before collecting himself and leaving the room, shutting the door quietly behind him as he made for the couch.

Tweek opened his eyes, letting out a withdrawn breath.

The next day, Tweek had a gun to his head. He was sat in front of a camera, crying his eyes out, and reeling off Craig's instructions for his safe return. Craig subtly placed his thumb over the camera lens and Tweek screamed, but it was fake. Craig turned off the camera, taking out the film and placing it on the counter. Tweek wiped away his tears.

"You're a good actor." Tweek wanted to say he wasn't acting, that he genuinely was scared shitless and that somebody had better come get him, but he didn't want to be seen as a wimp so he didn't utter a word. "Were those real tears?" Tweek shrugged, bringing the chair back to the table.

Tweek had woken up to the obligatory request of Craig's, who had loomed over him, shaking him slightly. Tweek had complied, slightly suspicious that the gun was loaded. Craig said it wasn't. The order was clear. All he had to do was look straight into the camera, sobbing, and make a proposal on Craig's behalf; he would be released, but only if Craig was able to leave the country with no limitations or obstacles.

He didn't think it was a mastermind plan.

Tweek yawned, and Craig frowned. "Tired? You just slept." Tweek shook his head. He wasn't tired, just restless, though that didn't make sense either. Tweek had spent hours of his supposed sleeping time awake, stymieing over the situation he was in. Besides, he wanted to be conscious when Craig was.

"I'll have to send that over later." Craig gestured to the film. "And we have to relocate tomorrow… for now, we have nothing to do." He paused. "What do you want to do?" Go home, Tweek thought. Instead, he pulled up the same chair and sat down on it carefully, praying the tacky thing wouldn't just break.

"What were you doing at a party, if you're w-wanted by the police? S-shouldn't you have been hiding?" Craig scoffed slightly, the boy just wanted to talk. Well, at least he wasn't trying to escape, if only in vain. He pulled up a chair too, mirroring Tweek's prior actions.

"I'm not naturally a black haired man." Craig said, and Tweek wondered what that had to do with anything. "I have to keep dying my hair to keep the cops from getting me." Tweek didn't see how just changing one's hair color could keep them disguised from the police.

"I know it's reckless, going to some...party." The word, in Craig's voice, didn't sound right to either of their ears. Parties were joyous. "...but I'm 23 for fucks sake. It's not my fault I'm in this goddamned business." Tweek knew better than to tell him it surely was. "I just want to live my life, even a screwed up one, you know?" He muttered. "I was going to fuck you. I got sober enough to stop, but, hell, you seemed like you wanted it." Tweek bit the inside of his cheeks.

"I just wanted to have a few drinks, a few ecstasy shots, maybe fuck someone, then go... home. That didn't quite go to plan." Craig's eyes looked like they were getting darker, to Tweek.

"You're gay?" Tweek asked, as if that was the only thing he had heard. Tweek, himself, wasn't sure what he was, if anything. He had dated, but never did anything more than kissing lightly. For all he knew, he might have been an asexual, as his friends often teased him about. Then again, they weren't really his friends anymore – they had gotten him into that mess.

"I guess, but I like girls too. Anything that's decent looking, I screw." Tweek swore he didn't blush at that. "I'll never want a real relationship though. It'll jeopardise my job too much." Craig looked thoughtful, as if he was thinking of something. Tweek decided to distract him.

"What got you into doing drugs? You don't l-look like a hardcore gangster." Tweek said honestly, and Craig cracked up again before stilling, face the picture of serious.

"When I was a kid – around your age –" Tweek didn't interject. "my father took me on a drive. Next thing I know, I was dumped in an alleyway, no idea of how to get home. I found out later I was a whole state away." Craig didn't bother telling where he was originally from. "I found this boy, a year or two older than me. He taught me how to stay alive, the ropes of the whole drug trade. His name was Kenny, I think." His face screwed up as if he had eaten a sour sweet. "He was my first partner to die."

Tweek looked down, his eyes pitiful and sad. He turned those hazel orbs back on Craig. "I'm s-sorry." He said sincerely, and Craig held his gaze before turning away and getting up.