I can't recall a time in my life that I have felt helpless. I was always the strong one of the two of us. The brave one but that night, I was neither.

"Craig, you have to help me, please!" He came to my house in the middle of the night in tears, in hysterics. Now most would say that was normal for the blond. I could always tell the difference though, if it was him just needing comforting or if he it was him needing protecting. That night is burned into my memory forever.

"Tweek, what's wrong. You have to tell me so I can help you." He shook in my arms and sob uncontrollably.

"He's after me, he won't stop until I'm dead." I looked down at him and I realized whom he was talking about. His father.

"What happened?" I asked firmly, he looked up at me tears running down his face and he told me the awful truth.

"I, I said n-n-no, I told him I d-d-didn't want t-to. I t-t-told him n-not to touch me." This was his dark secret; I was the only one he told. I was the one to tell him to say no. This was what it got him?

"I tried to run, h-he h-h-hit me and told me I-I had to." I pulled him close and brushed his wild hair from his eyes.

"Now, he's angry and wants me dead. H-he said s-so." I had no idea what to do; I was sixteen at the time. Young and stupid but I knew in my heart that it was my job to protect him. If I didn't, who would?

"I won't let that happen, the important thing is that you got away. You're safe with me. I won't let him hurt you." I let him sleep in my arms; the exhausted body was warm but shivered anyway.

I knew that I had to protect him, he was 'mine' and I would let nothing harm him, not even his own father.

I watched him sleep for about an hour, thinking of all the things that could be done. I thought about what had to be done and what would happen. I thought about taking him away, just loading up my truck and leaving this hell behind us.

I thought about calling the police, letting them take care of this tragic problem, but in the end I knew what I had to do and what this would mean. How the rest of our lives would play would be a mystery but I was sure that if we had each other things would work out…somehow.

When the time came I carefully removed myself from Tweeks embrace. I kissed him softly on top of this blond hair. I said a pray and asked God to forgive me for what I was about to do. I asked Tweek to forgive me as well. I slipped on my shoes and threw my jacket on.

The scary part was when I walked downstairs, into the basement where I knew certain things were kept, dangerous things that should never be presented to the wrong person. I grabbed my keys and darted out of the house locking the door behind me.

Yes, I had no idea what I was doing. But let me ask you this, if someone you loved with all you heart was hurting, would you not step up and do all you could to help them?

I made the short drive over to Tweek's house. The fifteen-minute drive felt like hours. Once I pulled into the drive I sat in silence. There was no time left for second thoughts. I thought back to Tweeks face, how scared he was. How hurt he looked. I knew just what to do.

Just like I had guessed the backdoor was ajar, I it must have been where Tweek escaped from his tormentor. I don't recall much after I slipped inside of the dimly lit house.

I could see the anger in his eyes transform to fright when he turned around and realize the boy behind him was not his son.

He asked me what I was doing there, what I wanted and I explained to him what he had done wrong. Not just that night but also the countless nights before. How he beat his child into a bloody mess, how he stole his innocence. How much of a monster he truly was.

Than I placed my hands on the trigger of a loaded gun, I pulled it back; I cocked it and shot him. Some might think this is the end. That all of Tweek's problems are over now but I could see the problem with having shot his father in the kitchen. As I watched the lifeless body lay in a pool of it's own blood I decided that I would do nothing to hide the body.

Mr. Tweak never did anything to hide the crimes he had committed towards his son and I would not hide the crime I have committed, or the justice that I have insured.

I quickly stepped over the dead man and the tried to avoid the blood. I rushed into the Tweek's room, I grabbed his duffle bag and started filling it with clothes, shoes, and anything that I thought he would need or want.

After that I left the scene, I knew that it would be found sometime tomorrow morning or early afternoon. I knew we had to leave before shit hit the fan about all of this.

I placed Tweek's things in the back of my truck, I drove straight home and collected Tweek. I told him that he would never have to worry about his father hurting him again. Than I told him we had to leave, we had to leave South Park forever maybe. He looked and me and I could see the change in his eyes. For the first time in ages I didn't see fear in his eyes, I seen love and trust.

A/N: Please remember that I do not own South Park.

Thank you for reading!!