This is my First fan fiction so please don't be too harsh. I know it's a weird pairing, but it's important to me. When I was little I had a very traumatic experience that left me heart broken and feeling utterly alone. That what this story focuses on, loneliness. The reason I choose Bradley is because nobody seems to like him, and he's looked down upon. I can really relate to that. If you don't like bulling please just don't read, don't leave a nasty review. Also I clam no right to South Park or any of its characters.

Why can't anything change

It was the same thing day in day out. Bradley Biggle got up brushed his teeth, and got ready for school. He'd go downstairs were he'd be greeted with a big warm hug from his mom. His dad wasn't there in the mornings, and Henrietta usually spent the night at Michael's or Pete's. He thanked god for that because his mom was the only good thing in his gloomy life. Sis and dad hated him, and it showed. Henrietta did her best to ignore her little brother , but when that wasn't possible she made it clear she wanted nothing to do with him. She called him horrible names from little twat to stupid faggot every time he even looked at her funny. That was the thing that hurt the most. All Bradley wanted was to get to know Henrietta , but every time he tried she would kick him out of her room. He was nothing but a nuisance to her.

He couldn't blame his family for hating him , after all he wasn't even their son. When Mr Biggle discovered his mom had been cheating on him he found that Bradley and him weren't even related. His dad had been furious. But by some sort of miracle his parents managed to stay together. After that though his dad and his sis never looked at him the same way.

When his mom wasn't looking his dad would throw mean looks at him. Sometimes when he would come home from school he found himself all alone in their big empty house with nobody else there but his dad. He would tell him he was useless, and he was the poison who had driven their family apart. He couldn't help it when he heard those hurtful words from the man that supported him, loved him only a mere year ago. His heart ached, and his eyes would well up with tears.

When Mr Biggle saw these tears stream down his sons face he would hit him hard. Telling him to stop crying that only girls and faggots cried. Every time his dad would physically abuse him like that, when nobody else was around he would mindlessly run upstairs and lock himself in his room. Not coming out for anyone. He wouldn't even come out when his mom made him his beloved mac and cheese. Bradley knew it was processed crap that probably gave you cancer but he couldn't help it, it just tasted so good.

Sure he could have told someone about the abuse, but that would only have made things worse. His dad assured him of that. He would say "don't you dare tell your mother. If you say anything she'll hate you just like the rest of this family". Maybe he was right, his mom did seem to love his dad even though he treated him like crap. He didn't want to get in the way of his mother's happiness, and if that meant having to endure some suffering at the hands of his father that's something he would just have to do.

Things at school played out in a similar manner. He would sit on the cold bench, the icy breeze staining his cheeks a rosy red. He tried not to draw attention to himself once on the bus. By sitting by himself. Somewhere in the middle aisle closer to the back to avoid unnecessary confrontation. But it was no use every time the bus stopped at this particular stop Bradley's stomach would lurched forward. "Please don't let him see me, please don't let him see me", he pleaded to himself. He scrunched shut his eyes and pulled his blue wool beanie over his head. Down past his eyes hoping the figure approaching would just leave him alone.

"Ho, ho, ho who do we have here"?

"Oh hiya Cartman", Bradley scaredly stammered as Cartman snuggled up next to him.

"Don't hiya Cartman me, pussy. This is why everyone calls you fag. You're a pushover". he grabbed Bradley's wrist in one hand, and started trashing him around.

"Stop, Cartman you're hurting me", Bradley pleaded, tears started to form in his big brown eyes.

"Oh what you gonna do about it, cry"?

As the tears started to drip down his red cheeks Cartman tore off Bradley's dark blue toque, and ran a heavy gloved hand through his thin blond hair, jerking it painfully leaving his sculpt swollen and sore.

All of a sudden an angry voice penetrated from behind them. There from the back of the vinyl seat appeared a tall teenager with wild copper red hair, and pricing green eyes.

"I said leave him alone Cartman"!

"And what if I don't Kahl. This fag deserves it."

Kyle's eyes narrowed, and without thinking twice about it he punched Cartman in the nose. Cartman's grip immediately loosened letting Bradley fall unceremoniously against the window while he gripped his nose in pain.

"First of all fat ass what business is it of yours if he's gay or not, second it doesn't matter if he's gay there's nothing wrong with that, and third you have no right hurt the kid just because he's a little girly looking".

Cartman crossed his arms and huffed in defeat not wanting to further argue with fiery red head.

"Um thanks Kyle". Bradley blushed while kneeling down to pick up his hat from the dirty floor.

He didn't know quite how to feel about being called girly, but he supposed it didn't matter. All that matter was that Kyle was kind enough to help him out. Kyle was an amazing person he had a high moral code, and didn't get caught up in the stupid fads that everyone else seemed to. When he saw someone not being treated right he didn't hesitate to voice his opinion on it. He liked Kyle he wished he was braver, and maybe they could be friends.

"No problem dude if Cartman gives you anymore trouble you come tell me, kay".

Bradley nodded in response while patting down his wispy strains of hair that Cartman managed to mess up.

Today was going wonderful he hadn't even arrived at school yet, and already he was being targeted by people who hated him for no apparent reason. As soon as he stepped through those double barreled doors he was lost in an ocean of pushing and shoving teens. He was so small he couldn't even see where he was going, all that was visible were the riding body's that thrash the poor kid in every direction causing him to drop his messenger bag on the hard linoleum floor. Nobody even had the courtesy to help him pick up his things. They just kick and trample his beloved bag every time he tried to reach for it. Once the hallway was clear of rowdy teenagers he was free to retrieve the poor mangled thing, it contents spilled out and skewed across the checkered floor.

Bradley collected his things and made his way to the first class of the day. Already late he was handed a pink slip as soon as he stepped inside. Mr. Jarvis frowned a sullen expression on his face. Bradley quickly found his seat, and opened his text book to the appropriate page. He hated American history it was "so boring". When he signed up for this class at the beginning of term he thought it would be fun like world history, but he was sadly mistaken. There was nothing fascinating or exciting about America History, it was just boring learning how europeans stole land away from the Natives.

It was the same thing every day. He sat there taking notes while the teacher droned on and on about some boring lecture that Bradley could care less about. All the while kids behind him would giggle and laugh hurling spitballs, pieces of erasers, and whatever they could at the back of his skull. He wouldn't even turn around anymore to see who was doing it. It was pointless even if he knew who it was nothing would change. He just accepted this is how things were. He didn't know why everybody hated him, but he probably deserved it for some reason or another.

At lunch he sat alone at a table on the far side of the cafeteria. He didn't even want to eat, but he forced himself to. He wouldn't want to worry his mom. She would always say he was scrawny, and if he ever wanted to grow big and tall he had to eat. So he sighed and wandered over to the line up to get some food in him. It was his lucky day they were serving pizza, he loved pizza almost as much as his mom's mac and cheese. When it was his turn to go up and get his beloved slice of delicious gooey golden cheese his eyes were meet with Mrs. Garfield. She was a nice stout lady that always greeted Bradley with a warm welcoming smile.

"Oh hello Bradley what would you like today".

He smiled back at her hesitantly saying, "Pizza please". Bradley said it so softly it was barely audible. But Mrs. Garfield knew he was a shy and timed boy and paid it little mind.

"Here you go I gave you an extra big slice so don't you go telling no-one".

Bradley nodded thanking his favorite cafeteria worker as he wandered back to his table. He didn't talk to anybody at lunch all he would do was pull out his sketchbook from his army green messenger bag, and draw. He drew anything from the fantastic creatures that danced around in his head, to the students that littered the cafeteria around him, and even the mundane boring inanimate objects like trees, bicycles, and even chairs. He would drowned himself in his own imaginary world. Here in his own handmade little universe he was safe, here nobody would judge him, hurt him, or say mean hateful things to him.

Today Bradley wasn't drawing anything in particular just some kid, one or two tables across from him. He found the guy interesting or otherwise he wouldn't have bothered with drawing him at all. He didn't really enjoy drawing people too much unless they were interesting or had character, and trust me this person had character. Bradley would stare down at his sketch pad nibbling small bites of his pizza, and every so often he would look up to catch a glimpse of the kid he was trying to render. He was so busy concentrating on his drawing he didn't even notice the person right in front of him. That was until he looked up at the big bulky figure obstructing his muse.

"whatcha doing homo".

It was Brandon, his favorite bully. He was at least six feet tall with cold hazel eyes. Your typical dumb jock. He sported the South Park Cow's Letterman jacket which was a bright green with white trim, and had the South Park cows logo embroidered over the right breast. Bradley looked at Brandon with intense fear wracking his entire small frame.

"Please Brandon I don't want any trouble".

"Did you here that guys he doesn't want any trouble"! Brandon repeated shaking his shaggy brown hair gesturing to his group of friends.

Brandon snatched Bradley's sketch book from in front of him, and dangled it in front of the boys face.

"Hey give that back that was a present from my mom". Bradley shouted as he jumped up from his seat trying desperately to grab his cherish sketch book from the huge guys grasp. But every time he leapt for it Brandon would pull it out of reach.

"Oh you want this back, was a present from mommy huh".

A malicious grin formed on his face as he flipped through the book and stopped at the page where Bradley drew the portrait of that kid. He began to tear the drawing in half right in front of Bradley's eyes. Tears started to stream from his big bright orbs, and then he was overcome with an emotion he nearly never felt, anger. He wiped his eyes now blurry and red from the tears. He mustered up all the courage in his little body, and pushed Brandon with all his might. Brandon stumbled backwards and tripped, his leg getting tangled up in the space between the table and the chairs.

When the he got up he was seething , hatred practically oozed out of his every pore. He latched on to the frightened Bradleys arm, and pulled him towards him only to violently shove him back. Instead of falling and landing flat on his ass Bradley was caught by one Brandon's friends who had encircled around him. He was shoved back and forth mercilessly between the group of teens, like some sort of rag doll. When finally the bully's ceased trashing him around Brandon proceeded to seize the poor kid by the hem of his blue sweater. They were dragging him towards the double barreled doors that lead out to the back of the school were the football field was.

It was cold out he hadn't planned on going outside. He had left his jacket and scarf in his locker. The morning snowfall had now turned to rain leaving the grass soggy and wet from the snow, the field was now a slurry mess.

"You gonna apologise yet". Brandon stated as he punched the little guy in the stomach, pushing him hard watching him fall on the mud soaked field.

The sound Bradley made when he hit the soddened ground was that of a wounded animal very much like when you kick a puppy. He got up, his legs shivering and wobbling from the cold. His cloths where completely soaked through covered with mud and grass stains, but he defiantly stood up looking Brandon dead in the eyes and said "NO". As soon as those words left his shivering lips Brandon punched him in the face knocking him down again with tremendous force. Again and again Bradley got up only to be meet with the same question, and every time his response was "NO".

It was clear no matter what these kids did to him he would refuse to apologise, so Brandon knocked the blonde down with one final thrust and began kicking him repeatedly. He called over his friends who were now bored, and wanted to go back inside to join him. Bradley curled up into a fetal position guarding his stomach and privates with his short stubby legs as the group of teenagers savagely kicked him again, and again without mercy.

The sound of the bell ringing could be heard in the distance, that was his salvation. Brandon gave the poor shivering boy one final kick to the ribs and tossed Bradley's sketchbook that was still in his hand to the mud soaked ground; it landed with a splash in a nearby puddle. Bradley could hear the mean spirited laughter of the boys as their voices faded in the distance like fog on a gloomy day. He uncurled himself and just lay there on his back. Just staring at the grey sky as thick droplets of cold icy rain peppered his face from the swirling gray sliver void above. After twenty or so minutes he got up and just stared down at his beloved sketchbook. It was completely ruined, it had been a birthday present from the only person who meant anything to him in this world, his mom. He could still remember the inscription on the back of the front cover.

Sunshine mommy will always love you. No matter how hard things get remember you can do anything you put your mind to. When things get tough, and you want to cry remember mommy will always be here for you.

When he went to pick the book up with his mother's inspirational words, it crumbled falling apart in his hands. He cried and cried why was this happening to him, why didn't anybody care about him, why couldn't he have friends to stand up for him, to protect him when times got tough.

Completely and utterly defeated he made his way back to the school, limping and hobbling from the pain. When his eyes came across his messenger bag where he was sitting his heart sank further down into the bowels of his stomach. There was his bag on the floor trampled and covered with filth, but the worst part was all his art supplies were thrown about on the floor.

His pencils were crushed, snapped into tiny nearly unusable pieces, his kneaded eraser and markers were complete ruined as well. It looked like someone had stomped on them with great malice in their hearts. They weren't useable anymore their plastic tubing was destroyed, and they were leaking ink everywhere. Bradley sighed and swept some of the bigger fragments of pencil that were still useable into his bag and tossed his precious markers in the trash. He was angrier than anything else, those were Copic markers and they were expensive as fuck, eight bucks apiece. And now they were ruined as well just like his precious sketchbook.

He made his way upstairs to the boy's bathroom. The one nobody used because it was way on the other side of the school, and it was pretty dingy. As he stared at his reflection he realized he looked god awful. His once mousy blond hair was ragged and disarrayed, his rosy cheek was now starting to swell and was tinged a deep shade of purple from where Brandon had punched him.

Lifting up his shirt he felt around were Brandon and his friends had been kicking him, and there without a shadow of a doubt were bruises all over his abdomen. They were already starting to turn blue and purple, and they hurt pulsating when he touched them. As Bradley turned on the spigot running soothing warm water he wiped off dried caked on blood from his nose with a raspy brown paper towel. It was rough and scrapy leaving his already delicate skin raw and sore.

There was no point in going to 5th period, he had almost completely missed it. He couldn't help it just looking at the sorry condition he was in made tears slip from his hazelnut eyes uncontrollably. He slipped into the least disgusting bathroom stall and locked the door behind him. Bradley pulled the seat down perching himself on the porcelain fixture, drawing his small shivering legs up to his chest. He buried his face into his knees while encircling his little limbs around his calves using his P.E uniform as a pillow. The little boy sobbed desperately, salty liquid seeping through his gym cloths as he sealed his eyes shut. His mom was wrong things would never get better, he would never have friends he was just too socially awkward for anyone to like him.

Bradley only had managed to make one friend his entire life, and when he moved away he was never quite the same again. He became guarded and untrusting of people. After that he was never able to make a connection with anyone, so in turn he was never able to make a friend. Believe me Bradley wanted to with all his heart to make friends, but he just couldn't. It was like his mouth was full of cotton and every time he tried to talk to someone the words would come out jumbled, awkward, entangled in a web of self-doubt and sorrow.

Finally last period of the day. It couldn't come fast enough so he could go home and cry himself to sleep only to start the endless cycle again tomorrow. But to be honest Bradley was looking forward to this class because it was art class. In art class he could unwind and really be himself. When he made it to class everybody was already at their tables talking amongst friends. Like usual he was almost late, the bell rang as soon as he stepped through the door. He couldn't help that though his stubby legs couldn't carry him very fast, and by the time he made it into class from the other side of the school he was exhausted panting and gasping for breath.

"Sorry I'm almost late Mr. Friesen".

Mr. Friesen was a kind balding man with a genital demeanor to him. Bradley liked him, he never asked any question even though he should. He was thankful for that the last thing he needed was his mom finding out about the bullying, that would only worry her. Even now Mr. Friesen just gave Bradley a smile as he stared at his battered and bruised face watching him shiver in his gym clothes.

"It's fine Bradley why don't you take a seat I'll be announcing our project for midterm".

Bradley smiled and took a seat by himself at a table near the far end of the classroom over by the window; as usual nobody wanted to sit with him, so he buried his head in his arms to hide his swollen face trying not to draw attention to himself.

"Well good afternoon my brooding artists. I know you don't like to work in groups that's why you signed up for this class but for this project you'll just have to coupe".

The whole class moaned it was clear that they didn't want to work with anyone; it was understandable art was a very personal thing and everyone's creative process was different. So working with someone could definitely hinder the creative mechanism.

"For this project class you will be working in groups of two. Your task will be to paint a portrait of your partner. Once I call your groups come up and claim your canvases. Oh before I forget this project will count as thirty percent of your final grade".

One by one the groups were called Token and Red, Michael and Esther, Bebe and Wendy, Clyde and Pete, Kenny and Butters, Stan and Kyle. Group after group was called and Bradley was getting nervous. He hoped he didn't get anyone mean who hated him. Last but not least his group was called, Bradley and Tweek. He peaked up from under his arm, Tweek still hadn't moved to get their stuff.

Witch was to be expected Tweek could hardly handle the everyday pressures of daily life, so asking him to do something that wasn't in his comfort zone was completely out of the question. Bradley got up and went to the teacher's desk to claim their canvases. The canvases weren't anything special they were like any other two by two canvases you could buy at any art supplies store. He stared at Tweek from the other side of the room. "He won't bite, I'm sure he's a perfectly nice person", Bradley keep telling himself. He took a deep breath and rushed over to Tweek who was twitching and pulling at his hair. He placed their stuff on the circular table.

"Hiya I'm Bradley I guess where partners huh".

Tweek looked up at Bradley with wide eyes examining the boy starring down at him. Tweek noticed the little kid looked awful his face was battered and bruised giving his soft features a puffy and swollen appearance.

"Err nngh I guess so, oh god what happened to your face"! Bradley just rubbed his bruised cheek and gave Tweek an odd smile.

"Oh this don't worry about it I'm used to it".

Tweek wanted to press further but he could see the blonde was clearly not comfortable in talking about it, he could see there was something clearly wrong with the kid. But he drop it when he saw the pained expression on Bradley's face.

He went right up to Tweek pulling him up from his seat by his long gangly limbs, and started walking slowly around him encircling the terrified boy.

"Interesting, interesting. Wow you're really tall Tweek I wish I was tall like you".

"Sweet Jesus what are you doing"!

"Just analyzing you".

"Nngh what for, your not going to dissect me are you. Please don't kill me"!

Bradley stared at Tweek with one hand on his hip. "Come on Tweek don't be ridiculous I hate to say this, but I'm tiny in case you haven't noticed; what could I possibly do to hurt you".

Tweek looked at Bradley once more his paranoia now dissipating. He was indeed small, he barely even made it to Tweek's chest. Just a mere year ago Tweek wasn't much bigger than his partner, but he went through a sudden growth spurt and now was a towering 6'6.

"Let me get a better look at you Tweek". Bradley pulled out a cheap plastic chair from their table and stood on it. Now face to face with the spastic teen he began to run his hands through Tweek's unruly golden locks of mussy hair, giggling and smiling as he did so.

"What are you doing people are gonna stare at us ". Tweek shouted a little too loud covering his mouth with the sleeves of his long green sweater.

"Oh I'm sorry Tweek, it's just I love your hair its fantastic it's just amazing". Tweek stared at the eccentric little blonde with bewilderment. Was he crazier than him he looked like an old broom or something.

"Bradley are you crazy or something my hair is… oh god hideous, it's all stiff and wiry and no matter what I do I can't comb it; for god sake's it looks like I just got out of bed or something".

"I'd kill to have hair like yours I mean my hair so lame just look at it. Bradley pulled up a section of his fine blonde hair, and let it drop back down to his face like a limp noodle. See can't do a thing with this hair of mine it's just so limp and flat. It has no body at all. No matter what I do, even if I lather my head in a bucket of volumizing shampoo, use extra strength gel I can't get my hair to do anything neat. But your hair on the other hand. Bradley further ruffled up Tweek's golden strains of spiky hair templing them into twisted spires of towering fibers. Your hair shapes into any shape you want it to, it's fantastic".

He Jumped down from the chair sliding into his seat across from Tweek giggling, and squealing like a little girl. "Ooo I just can't wait to draw you I'm so excited".

Tweek couldn't help but laugh at the guy he was so full of energy, and his chipper attitude was just so infections.

"Why man"?

"Why what"?

"Why do you want to draw me, jeez man".

Bradley thought Tweek was the most unique person he ever laid eyes on. He loved everything about him from his unruly wheat blonde hair that gave his skin a luminescent glow, to his weird but cool freckles that peppered the blonds face. He loved the way his brow would scrunch together when he was worried or nervous, he loved his piercing emerald green eyes, and how he would give you a scathing look when you did something that pissed him off.

Bradley even loved how he would drink coffee excessively bringing that dumb chinpokomon thermos with him everywhere he went. Even the way he dressed was unique sporting skinny jeans which only made him look taller and ganglier than he already was. But the thing Bradley loved most about Tweek was how he made him feel. Tweek didn't discriminate against him, make him feel like he was useless like his dad did. He liked him for him. He was overall a great person, how could he not be intrigued about drawing such a fascinating individual.

"Oh that. Usually I don't like to draw people because most people are boring. But you're just so interesting, so unique. Everything about you is amazing; you have character you'll make a wonderful illustration".

"You really think I'm special nobody's ever told me that before, most people just think I'm a freak". Tweek bowed his head hiding his embarrassment from Bradley.

"Well Tweek people think I'm a freak to, but we freaks have to stick together. Don't let anyone get you down your amazing, and don't let anyone tell you different".

Tweek blushed just like anytime someone gave him a compliment.

From there the two boys talked, and talked sharing their interests and hobbies. Bradley was suspired that Tweek didn't find him weird or annoying. Because once he opened up and made a connection with someone he would talk and talk usually going on a tangent about stuff that interest him, not letting the other person have a chance to say anything in edge wise. But Tweek wasn't bother by it he actually found it kinda cute that he had so much energy.

Bradley hadn't even noticed that nearly an hour had flown by, and he had forgotten to take his pills.

"Uh oh spaghetti o's it's almost three thirty almost forgot my medicine".

Did he just say uh oh spaghetti o's that so cute Tweek thought, Bradley was so innocent it would have sounded lame coming from anyone else; well maybe Butters could have gotten away with it, but it just suited the Bradley's bubbly personality. He began digging around in his messenger bag and pulled out a water bottle with a cute little penguin on it, and two bottles of pills. He seemed to be struggling with the bottles but after a fit of frustrating cursing he finally got them open. He popped two capsules from each container and down them with a quick gulp of water.

"What are those". Tweek commented.

"Pills".

"Well duh I know there pills, but what for".

Bradley's face grew nervous he did want to tell Tweek, but he was sure the giant wouldn't judge him.

"Uh this one's for depression, and this one is I guess to keep the bad thoughts away". Bradley said nervously .

What was that supposed to mean, depression Bradley was the last kid Tweek expected to be depressed form his chipper aptitude. But everyone had their secrets and we could never really know what another person must be going through. Tweek worried he didn't want anything bad to happen to the little guy. He was actually starting to like him. Then it hit him did this have something to do with the terrible bruises on his face. But he couldn't just come out and ask that.

"It's okay, I use to take med's to for my anxiety it's no big deal".

He smiled back at Tweek then without warning the final bell rang causing him to jump out of his seat.

"Oh it's time to go Home, thanks for being my partner and talking to me Tweek your great, Um bye."

With that he dashed for the door before Tweek even had time to register what the hell just happened. A moment later he saw Bradley struggling to get through the crowd of people in the hallway.

"Wait man what's the hurry", Tweek finally caught up with him putting his trembling hand on the small boys shoulder.

"I gotta hurry. I got really stubby legs and if I don't hurry I'll miss my bus, and they'll come after me".

"Who I'll come after you"?

Bradley quickly covered his mouth like he said something he should've. "Uh nothing forget I said anything".

He quickly disappeared into the crowed of moving body's and just like that he was gone. Tweek was bewildered what the fuck just happened Bradley sure was a strange guy .

Bradley sat on the bus doodling on some scrap paper he got from art class, he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice a familiar blonde plop in the seat beside him. Tweek tapped his shoulder nearly giving him a heart attack.

"Tweek what are you doing here shouldn't you be sitting with your friends."

"You are my friend don't be silly".

Tweek noticed that Bradley's motor skills were sufficiently delayed he seemed tired and sluggish. The happy boy he meet in class had almost completely disappeared. His carefree smile, bright happy eyes where sullen. Even his bubble voice that was cherry, and sweet was now monotonous sapped of all energy like Craig's. Once glistening orbs of pure hazelnut were now glassy clouded over with too much medication.

"What's wrong with you man why are you so down", Tweek shook his friend out of his inebriated state.

"Just my meds starting to kick in", he said slowly in a slurred voice.

Tweek knew it, ever since he downed that poison in class he saw a change for the worst in Bradley. He could relate to what Bradley must be going through. He himself had been on oodles and oodles of medication. It seemed like he was given a new experimental drug every mouth; witch was complete bullshit. The doctors said he was paranoid, riddled with anxiety, and was antisocial. They told him he couldn't deal with the pressures of everyday life, and that's why he needed the drugs. That was fucking laughable he didn't need drugs he needed someone to talk to.

Tweek could still remember back before he meet Clyde, Token, and Craig. He was no ifs ands or buts completely miserable. He looked just like Bradley did now. But as soon as he meet his group of friends his many antisocial tendency's melted away like ice, leaving him significantly better. Sure he still had problems with anxiety, but coffee could help him deal with that. The point was he was off all those awful drugs, and Tweek was sure if Bradley could make some friends everything would get better for him too. Tweek noticed the little guy didn't have anyone to talk to. He looked so sad and lonely just like Tweek when he was little. He couldn't help but ask, he wanted for Bradley to be alright.

"Bradley why don't you just stop taking that stuff if it makes you feel like crap".

He stopped to look into Tweek's green eyes clutching desperately at his exposed shivering knees. He dug his nails into soft supple flesh. If only Tweek knew that those pills were the only thing that were keeping him going. They dulled the depression, and his awful anguish that he felt. There was only so much pain and suffering a person could withstand before they snapped.

"I can't Tweek I just can't. My parents are constantly watching me".

"Stop that you'll hurt yourself. It okay everything will be okay".

But it was too late for that, when Tweek removed Bradley's hands, droplets of blood were already starting to pool on the surface of his skin. He was panicking, and hyperventilating this would normally put Tweek on edge especially at the sight of blood. But Tweek didn't want to further freak Bradley out, so he bite his bottom lip drowning the emotion to have a heart attack, and just gently patted Bradley's back rubbing soothing circles in his skin through his blue and red jacket telling him everything would be alright just by the mere gesture.

The metal death trap came to a screeching halt nearly knocking all the kids out of their seats into the aisles.

"Oh this is my stop gotta go Tweek see you tomorrow".

With that Bradley waved goodbye to his new friend as he wiggled himself out of his seat on his way to the front of the bus. But as he was nearly there a foot jutted out from the aisle tripping him. He came crashing down to the filth covered floor skinning his knees on the pieces of jagged gravel and salt that perennated the wet and muddy floor. Quickly he got up to his feet holding back the urge to cry. He didn't want to shed tears in front of Tweek, so he balled up his fists shrouding his face. He ran to the front of the bus, and out the door the moment it slid open. whimpers of pain and anguish escaped the little blonde's throat as he bolted out through that grimy automatic portal. He could hear the taunting laughter of the teens as he dashed out those doors. Scurrying down the cold, and icy sidewalk, legs shivering as the frigid air bit at his exposed skin.

Tweek wanted desperately to run after his friend to see if he was alright, but at the moment he was to concentrated staring malice filled daggers at whoever would do such an awful thing to such an innocent defenseless kid. How could these people laugh at something so horrible? Sure not everyone was laughing, but the sickening sound was filling him with a sense of disgust encompassing him, making his stomach churn.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of the person laughing maliciously with his idiot friends, his hand running throw his shaggy brown hair brushing a bang out of his hate filled eyes. Tweek wasn't the kind to get angry very often, but when he did watch out he was a vehement bastard that made Craig look like a pussy cat. Tweek barged out of his seat coming right up behind the guy, he pulled a random kid that sat behind his target out of his seat by the scruff if his coat. "Move", the kid landed with an earth shattering thump on the filthy ground as everybody on the bus stared at the crazy looking blonde; including Craig who just swallowed nervously. He knew exactly what was coming. Sure enough the twitchy Tweek's fist collided with the Bradon's jaw.

"What the fuck, what's wrong with you freak"! The huge guy screamed as the kid beside Tweek cowered in fear as soon as he saw the venomous look in Tweek's eyes.

"No what the fuck is wrong with you, why would you do that".

"No don't Brandon this kids crazy", some emo looking guy with long black hair grabbed onto Brandon's arm begging him to let it go.

"Tell me why the fuck would you do that". Tweek fumed as he grabbed the front of Brandon's jacket.

"You really want to know freak why I did it? Because he's a fucking baby, Brandon pulled Tweek's quivering hands away, and shoved him hard against the raggedy vinyl seat . Tweek's hands were clutching the fabric of Brandon jacket so intensely you'd would think Tweek was about to bust a blood vessel . "That's right he's a fucking baby he has autism or something he's a fucking retard".

"Fuck you that's not true"!

"Come on the signs are all right there just think about it. He can't even tie his shoes for fucks sake, and haven't you ever noticed how the kid dresses. It looks like he put on his cloth blindfolded. And if that isn't proof enough for you the little fag has to go to special Ed with all the other retards. Just ask Jimmy he goes to the same class as that little asshat".

Thinking back now he did think the way Bradley acted was a bit strange. His mannerisms, the way he talked was a bit slurred like he had a bit of a stutter, and the way back in class how he went on and on, on a compete tangent talking, and talking about the most ridicules things like, "do you think potatoes feel pain because I couldn't live with myself hurting a potato, or I had dream where my mom made grilled cheese; boy I love grilled cheese but what if the dream was symbolic of me turning into grilled cheese one day. Oh no what if it means that I can't eat cheese anymore I love cheese. I'll just die if I can't have cheese anymore Tweek". Tweek didn't think anything of Bradley's crazy rants and theories because it reminded him how he was when he was little on his medication, and all the crazy things he would say hopped on too many drugs and caffeine.

He didn't know what Brandon meant by the way Bradley dressed because he was wearing his PE cloths, but now that he though about it, his shoes weren't tied. Oh god he could of tripped and really hurt himself. But maybe that's why Tweek liked Bradley because he was different he could relate to the him because god only knows how fucked up his head was. Bradley wasn't that autistic, beside a stutter and the way he kinda spoke which was a bit slower than a normal person, he looked completely normal. He didn't look retarded or anything like that, his problems were definitely all mental.

He was happy that he found someone else that had problems just like him; fuck Brandon he didn't care if Bradley was different he liked him. If everyone in the world was the same this place would be one boring shit hole. Thinking about what Brandon did to Bradley only made Tweek madder and madder. Why would this fucktard treat Bradley like that when he knew he had special needs.

Tweek had lots of friends that were like that, Jimmy, and Timmy only to name a few. He had no problem hanging around with kids that were special needs. In fact he preferred kids like that because he had something in common with them. That's why he liked hanging around Jimmy because Jimmy was funny, and would never judge or put him down like the other kids at school. Jimmy couldn't care less if he had metal issues or was constantly freaking out over really stupid things. Jimmy was just cool like that.

Tweek grabbed Brandon one more time by the hem of his jacket and roughly tossed him against his emo friend. "You leave Bradley alone narg … or I don't... I'll beat the shit out of you".

"Yeah whatever I'm not scared of you. What are you gonna do, get you're faggy boyfriend Craig to beat me up. Fine I'll leave him alone but, you can't be there watching him 24/7 and when you're not there he's as good as dead".

A freighting scowl appeared on Tweek's flustered face as he became red hot. How dear this jerk say Craig was his boyfriend, sure he'll admit Craig was pretty cute, but he had no idea if he swung that way. Tweek had been genuinely confused about his sexuality he wasn't sure who he liked because he thought girls were pretty cute they were nice and smelled sweet . And when it came to guys he got this bubbly feeling whenever one of his friends would hug him; it was also nice that he had a lot in common with guys. Guys weren't clingy and emotional like girls. Tweek could just hang out with them without being obligated to do something stressful like go on a date.

He began to wrack his brain around the situation, even if he did like Craig like that Craig would never feel the same way about him. He was just too obsessed with his precious reputation to let anyone find out he was gay. It seemed like Craig had a new girlfriend every other week, and besides that all Craig cared about was sex. He was always constantly bragging to Clyde and Token about what him and his new slut would do in bed. This always would gross Tweek out not because he was ignorant on the ways of sex, but because it was none of his business. What people did in the comfort of their bedroom was nobody's business but their own.

Tweek wasn't a whore even if Craig ask him to fool around he would say no. Not because he was scared, but because he wasn't about to have sex with just anyone. He would only do the nasty with someone he loved, and with the way Craig changed partners like next seasons trends he was absolutely positive Craig didn't give a fuck about love.

Relationships who needs them sure it would be nice for someone to love him , but being in a relationship would be way too much pressure. He just wasn't the type of person to handle pressure well. He wouldn't even know how to react if someone he liked ask him out. For god sake's he's never even been on a date before; he'd be way too terrified.

What if he asked someone out he liked, and screwed things up on their date doing something really awkward that was so like him. Then they without a doubt would reject him. There was one thing that scared Tweek more than the commitment of a relationship, and that was rejection. He would just die if someone he loved, someone he put his heat on the line for rejected him so cruelly. So for that very reason it was just best to stay away from relationships; no reason to get your heartbroken.

Seething with hatred Tweek huffed back to sit with his friend's, brow knitted together with anxiety knowing Brandon was right. He couldn't be there to protect Bradley every second of every day. Tweek's slender frame shook with horror at the realization that Brandon would eventually really hurt Bradley. He felt powerless, no he couldn't, no wouldn't let that happen.

"How was your day honey", Mrs Biggle asked. Bradley looked over at his mom while carefully chewing on his broccoli making sure not to meet his sisters or fathers eyes. He had made sure the first thing he had done when he had gotten home was to apply a good thick layer of liquid foundation to cover up the bruising. He had been doing this for years hiding the evidence of the bullying from his mom. Bradley couldn't remember when the bullying had quite started. But he was sure it was when his best friend had left when his family had to move away to live in Toronto. With him gone he didn't know what to do he was the only one who cared about him, the only one who protected him from all the bully's, and mean people who would hurt him and do bad things to him.

Bradley could still remember as soon as his beloved friend moved away, that's when they first started harming him. He had only been eleven years old when he realized he was being hit. Why were they hurting him he didn't know? Then the realization came to him in the kid's cruel merciless taunts and cold-hearted laughter. They said he was a baby a stupid little handicapped retard, that couldn't do anything without his mommy. Sure he needed help with a lot of things from his mom like tying his shoes, taking his medication, and even going outside by himself.

That aside though the he wasn't completely helpless, he could do whatever any other sixteen year old could. It's not like he was so mentally challenged he couldn't go to the bathroom by himself; he could wipe his own ass thank you very much. He hated the way all his teachers, and everybody he meet treated him once they found out about his handicap. He detested the pitying looks they gave him like he was this innocent little boy who knew nothing about how the world worked.

Bradley hated that, he wasn't this innocent little kid. He knew what sex was he had never done it, and didn't know exactly how it worked, but he wasn't stupid he knew when his mom and dad were fucking from the moans the came through his paper thin walls. Until that day when the kids at school first laid their hands on him, Bradley never realized there was anything wrong with him. There was no reason to because everyone until that point treated him like a human being. He wanted to cry right then and there at the dining room table in front of his family, but he managed to hold back his sobs out of fear, and ridicule from his father.

Why did he have to leave him, he was his best friend in the whole world, and now he was gone. He never forgot him though. It had been over six years now, but he would never forget him. He still kept a locket with a picture of him in it. Which he keep safely locked away in a hidden drawer in his room. Bradley would take it out every night and drape it around his neck, he couldn't sleep without it. If he didn't have that locket he would never be able to sleep because he would see the black haired boy nearly every day. Now with him gone the locket was the only way he could see him, the only way he could have some sort of connection with him.

He smiled at his mom, "I think I made a friend he's a little weird but I think I like him".

"Oh that's wonderful. His mother said with sincere excitement. She knew Bradley hadn't been able to make friends since his very first and only all those years ago.

"Why don't you invite him over for a sleepover dear"?

Bradley nodded before answering.

"Maybe mommy", is all the Bradley answered before getting up, helping his mother clear the table, and wash the dishes before leaving up to his room for the night. It wasn't his Bedtime it was only eight o'clock, but he went to bed early every night just so he could drown out the horrors of the day with his cherished medication, the sooner he was in bed the sooner he could forget about how horrible his life was.

As he laid there in bed he closed his eyes cuddling up to his stuffed ducky Mr. Crackers, and for the first time in years he prayed.

"God I don't know if you're out there, but please if you're listening, cut me a break. I need someone, anyone to be there for me. Please. Maybe that person can be Tweek". Just like that, like every other night hot tears streamed down his cheeks as the tiny teen cried himself to sleep.