A/N-This is a partner multi-chap fic to 'the story of tweek' bc longlivetheirishevilgenius wanted more. I tried to give it the same feel

Just like always

Tweek was standing at the end of the street waiting for me. Just like he always does. No matter what Tweek would always wait for me. If it was raining he'd stand there even though he didn't have an umbrella. Everyday he'd stand there waiting, I have no idea how long he would be standing there, but he'd always be standing there waiting for me. Some days I wouldn't show up, and he'd be late to school, and he'd always tell me he'd waited longer, because he was scared I'd get mad if I got there late and he wasn't there.

I walked up to him, monotone at the ready and stoic face pre-painted on.

"Good Morning C-Craig" He looked up at me, hope in those sparkling pine green orbs.

"'Mornin' Tweek" I reply simply.

The bus pulled up and he let me walk on first. I headed straight for the back, Tweek right behind. I always walked fast and once I got to the back of the bus I looked to see he was scurrying down from halfway. Tweek could never walk fast, he was always too weak to do such. I'd always wondered how a boy his age could be so fragile, when his only health problem was ADD and a caffeine addiction.

When he passed Cartman the fat tub of lard tripped him, and kicked him in the ribs while he was down.

I didn't lift a finger to help as Tweek struggled to get up and stumbled down to sit next to me. He looked at me, the hope completely gone from his eyes, sooner than I expected. They started to glisten and he looked straight ahead. Once again someone had found a way to make him cry.

We got to school and after locker break went to our first period, which we shared, Science.

Walking in first I sat at the table in the back, I was in the back anywhere I sat. Tweek followed, but once again was slowed when Cartman slapped his books down and kicked them away. Once again, I did nothing to help. I just watched as Tweek frantically scurried all around to get his books and sit next to me again.

As our teacher stumbled in, she lifted up the projector screen to reveal a surprise message on the board beneath.

"Surprise Assessment Analysis Project"

I already knew Tweek was my partner. I always picked him for the simplest reason of all.

Tweek was the town pushover. Many would argue with me that the town pushover was Butters; but if you'd just stand with him for ten seconds you'd know it was Tweek. Tweek was so scared of being hated or disappointing someone that he'd do anything anyone would ask for. Yet another thing I found so strange about him, why was he so scared of disappointing anyone?

"Hey Tweek, wanna be my partner?" I asked dully and in an uncaring manner; like I didn't know what the answer would be already.

"O-Okay"

The teacher explained it simply, it was due Friday, we had to write a report with pictures about a chemical reaction.

"Think of a topic" I order Tweek to do.

"What about roasting coffee?"

"Suuuuure"

Of coarse it's about coffee, it's all he drinks. It's the only thing his parents even talk about. I bet his house has nothing but coffee brand branded materials. Thinking about it, I've never been to his house. I'm feeling curious today, might as well go there.

"We're doing it at your house" I demand. Tweek needs to be demanded, or the 'pressure' gets to him.

He just nods as I try to imagine his house for the rest of the period.

Lunch rolls around after another period and we sit (once again, again) in the back. Clyde, Token and few others sit with us but it seems like we're in a separate area since we only talk, if we talk at all, to each other. Clyde will try to loop me into conversations, but always gives up after a few of my flip offs.

It seems like today is my first day really seeing Tweek, because I can't help but notice new things about him.

Like I've never seen him eat. We've been best friends for eight years and I've never seen him eat. He never has food at lunch.

Once girls asked if he was manorexic, he just told them that coffee makes him less hungry. Can't blame them for asking though, he's so thin, and short.

It's okay if he skipped a few meals, but how can I never see him eat? When was the last time he ate?

He's waiting for me again.

After school he always stands by the steps, waiting for me a second time in the day.

We start off on the walk to my house first, to get supplies. Tweek never had anything new and fancy. He didn't have a single video game system or even his own computer. So of coarse we needed my camera.

The walk was silent; it always was when we were together. It was never uncomfortable, I don't like to talk and neither does Tweek. He's always scared if he says anything he'll make someone sad because he'll remind them remotely of something horrible.

We enter my house and he takes off he shoes noisily. This makes me stare at his feet and I see something strange, his feet are blue and bruised. Looking closer I see his shoes are filled with holes. I realize those are the same 'new' shoes he got when he was 14, we're 16. He hasn't grown out of them, but they should've been replaced a long time ago. Why didn't he have socks either? That's probably why his feet were blue, and since his shoes were full of holes he probably got bruised everytime he stepped on something wrong. Why didn't his parents replace them?

I let it go and lead him up to my room. When I see my bed I realize I'm dead tired and collapse on it.

"I'm gonna take a nap, kay Tweek? Just sit around for a little while" I mumble into the pillow dully.

There's no response and I look up to see him in my bathroom, staring at my shower with wonderment.

The curtain was wide open from my morning shower and my many shampoos and soaps were all on display. Isn't that how everyone's shower is? What's so interesting about it?

"Cr-Craig?" The blonde beside me stutters out worriedly.

"Yes?"

"C-Can I p-p-please use your shower?" He has his face cast down and looks ashamed of asking.

Why doesn't he shower at home? We didn't have gym today.

But as his head is down I see his hair is greasy and tangled. If he knows why doesn't he shower? I guess I should just let him since his hair is greasy. I'll ask later.

"Sure, just be out by the time I'm up" I say in my monotone way.

"Th-Thank you Cr-Craig!" He says excitedly, his pitch a little higher with joy.

He's so happy to get a shower?

The blonde rushes in and gently closes the door.

I stand there for a second before falling back on my bed and drifting off to the sound of the shower running. Questions keep piling up in my mind about Tweek.

I have a dream. It felt like a story; a sad fairie tale with no ending written for it.

Tweek is in his own world. He's all alone. There's nothing but him in a world of cement and sun. There are no materials, nothing; nothing except a manikin, a blue manikin that Tweek talks to everyday. Tweek stands with it and helps the manikin, even though it doesn't talk and Tweek is hungry and dirty. Tweek stays like that until he's stick thin and he's so dirty he blends in with the grass and dirt when he kneels at the manikin.

…And eventually he just blows away, like dust in the wind.

I stir awake. That dream felt so surreal. I never feel bad for anyone or anything, but I felt bad for Tweek. It was just a dream though. So why am I so shaken?

Finally looking up I see Tweek, peeking up at me with happy, curious sparkling eyes.

"Hey Tweek"

"Cr-Craig?"

"Yeah?"

"Th-Thank you" He lifts his head up to me.

And he smiles.

He smiles beautifully and bashfully, he's cute and adorable.

I can't believe it but, I can't remember the last time I saw him smile.

I don't know what comes over me but that smile gives me a bewildered expression and I feel my heart flutter.

He looks worried that he's made me mad somehow.

I put a stop to that thinking.

I lean down, my elbow supporting me, and press my lips forcefully to his. He doesn't fight back or pull away, he presses back into me.

I don't turn it into a French kiss but our mouths are open. I pull away after a second.

"Hey Tweek" I say like that never happened.

He looks up at me, blushing and confused.

"We should date" I say flatly.

"Okay" A small smile crawls on his lips. I can just tell from that small smile he really wants to.

"Come on, we better head to your place"

I stand up, grabbing my camera and heading out the door with him; another silent walk like always. Except this time I thread my fingers in with his.

We get there and he unlocks the door to reveal a dark, dead feeling house.

We walk in and he heads towards the kitchen. I follow him and lean against the wall.

It's a small kitchen, with a laundry room connected to it. I stare into the laundry room for a moment and see it's empty; just a washer and a dryer, no detergent, soap or anything. How does he wash his clothes?

I look over to Tweek, who's preparing to make coffee. The entire house seems so empty but the kitchen counter has all kinds of different coffee makers and models, sugars and creamers. Tweek Reached up to the cabinet high above his head, he was on tiptoe, looking adorable. I glance up to where he'd reaching to see a few bags of coffee beans, but no food. He opens the old fridge to his side to pull out the flavored real cream for later; more coffee products lie within it, but still no food.

My curiosity continues to grow and a lump in my stomach begins to form. Something about all of this just seems wrong.

He makes the coffee and I take pictures. We then walk up the dim stairs to his room.

As we pass I tell him I need to use the restroom. I walk in and turn on the lights. It looks like a bathroom in a house no one lives in. No towels, soap, shampoo, a thin curtain and cheap toilet paper. Maybe he uses his parent's bathroom…

I do my business and head to his room, where there's a faint light.

Like everything else, it's dark and empty. There's a tiny bed with a cheap frame in the corner by the window, a cheap wooden chair, and a cheap dresser with an old lamp on it. He has on the lamp and the over head light, since his bed makes a weird shadow on the floor.

Things aren't right in this house. It looks like no one lives here and it feels so depressing and lonely.

"Hey Tweek, where are your parents?"

"They're GAH off on b-business. I don't see them much, they're always at corporate meeting so they're gone most of the year." He keeps scanning through the Polaroids.

There's an awkward silence as Tweek works and I'm trying to put things together. Something is wrong here! It's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't get it.

"Cr-Craig, could you please hand me the box of markers in my closet?" He asks simply, snapping me back.

"Sure"

I walk over and grab the box, it was easy to find, it was only of only three on the floor of his closet labeled, 'markers', 'paper', and 'misc. office'.

But as I'm turning away something catches my eye.

There's only a shirt and pants hanging in Tweek's closet. They're identical copies to the ones he's wearing now, black pants and a dark green button-up with sleeves too long.

"Why is there only pants and shirt in your closet?"

"The –nngh- rest are just in the w-wash" He lies to me, his voice shaky.

Why would he lie? What is he hiding?

And then it finally clicked.

He has almost no furniture.

He has no food.

He never eats.

His hair is always greasy and ratted.

His shoes are filled with holes.

He has two shirts, two pants, no jacket and no socks.

And he's lying about it.

Oh My God.

Tweek was neglected…