I was so used to being able to calm him down, to help him destress. A single glance shared between us would send his shivers away, and finally convince me his lungs were working properly. Not to gloat or anything, but clearly I was a master at calming him down.

Despite his midnight calls complaining about Gnomes and their 'unknown phase two', and consistent shaking, he wasn't one of the weaker kids around school. Hell when we bashed up Broflovski, flamboyantly might I add, he threw some of the best punches in there. If there's anything I know, it's that Tweek throws amazing punches. Oh, and the time when we taped that home school kid to the bench. And... Well, much shit goes down around here it's pointless to list them all. But then again, I can tell why people would pin him as a Melvin.

Watching him trail around Stan and those assholes for as long as it took until they got bored of replacements, you could noticeably see the patches of skin bare of blonde hair from being pulled out time and time again. He shook like mad, it was kinda fucking funny hearing the table shake along with him. Though, I heard he held a bazooka. A fucking bazooka. If I could aim a bazooka at Steven Spielberg I'd be soooo happy.

Tweek wasn't weak or anything. But he really needed assurance, and that could get annoying. Of course, a guy in your class that spends his life reading articles about how the world will end, and then asking Kevin or me about Space and the chances the earth will be shattered one way or another, can be marked annoying. Kenny joked around about Tweek being a talking vibrator, once. Though under that stupid hood, no one knows for sure what perverted thing he had actually said.

But, in the end. Tweek was a friend of mine, Stripe liked him so I liked him too. It turns out though, that unlike Clyde and his clingy behaviour and loud mouth, or Token with his maternal judgement, or Jimmy and his filthy jokes, or Kyle with his lengthy lectures (God he was such a replica of his mom), or Kenny with his urge of 'let's go do something fucking stupid like get lost in Peru' - it's me who settles him down the most. This huge list and more, and I seem to calm him down the most. Why couldn't it be Butters? I can't do affection.

Then again, I'm clearly better than everyone else at it. So I'll take what I can, Clyde takes personal offence and that's hilarious. And so, nice and boring is what calms him down.

That when he panicked one day, clutching his chest and scratching his hand up into a bloody mess, curled up on the floor in the corner almost crying. And I couldn't help. I froze up, did nothing. His fear of living in South Park had hit him with full force, and not even me /trying/ to show him affection worked.

I stood aside in my own state of shock and watched him pull at his hair. It must've hurt, his face said it all.

But then she stepped in.

Sitting down in front of him, muttering softly towards him.

Mrs. Tweak was a... Weird woman. Very delicate, always smelling sweet with a maternal touch to her; How did a fighting, weapon wielding maniac like Tweek come from her is beyond me. She always spoke calmly, even when telling her husband off or giving speeches (like every other damn mom in this town), and I don't think I've ever seen her with her apron off.

The twitching blonde took barely any notice of the way her fingers grazed through his hair, and the way she whispered "Shhh... Respirare, innamorato, concentrarsi sul petto"

It wasn't the first time I'd heard the second language being thrown around inside the household, between mother and son. Clearly Tweek still had a bit to learn, stumbling every now and then over words, but I struggle in English and he's snagging two different languages I'm in no room to comment.

Very softly, Tweek's hands loosened from his hair, a damn miracle if you ask me. The soft smile on Mrs. Tweak's face just proved she saw improvement in her son's panic attack. "Ricordate ciò che ha detto il dottor Norris. In uno due tre quattro cinque. Fuori uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque, sei"

Once my own shock ran out of my body, I couldn't help but stare and watch. I was under the impression that he was just fed coffee to calm him down, and I'm probably right and these moments here are the rare instances, but a closer look around his room was a nice wake up call. A bottle of 'Anti-Gnome Spray' sat up on his desk, and if the room didn't feel thicker than concrete I'd laugh at that. To think it'd work is hilarious, but at least the gnomes aren't after blood. Maybe they just play along by now. It's a sweet gesture Richard Tweak wouldn't of done, that's for sure.

Up on the walls were numerous model planes and boats, a tank here and there. Keys to the coffee shop, computer opened up and still broadcasting the Red Racer blooper reel I had convinced him to watch with me. Just looking around, was relaxing. Maybe that stupid doctor of Tweek's wasn't so bad.

"Stella stellina, la notte si avvicina,
la fiamma traballa..." The mood around the room shifted as Mrs. Tweak almost sung softly, managing to get her son to uncurl. God, I thought we would've needed a jack hammer.

"...La gatta coi gattini, e tutti fan la nanna nel cuore della mamma" Noting she'd finished her...whatever it was, Tweek had finally sat up straight. Amazingly. His hairs fluffed in every direction, and his body no longer shook violently. A few grunts could be heard clearly, but that was pretty normal.

"Grazie, mamma" He muttered quietly as Mrs. Tweak stood up, kissing his head quickly in the process.

"Let's go get you some coffee, your dad has some nice dark roast in the cupboard" Ah yes. The coffee. The thing that this family was built upon. The black liquid of sewage water that fucked their kid up. Tweek got up and walked out wordlessly, not even sparing me a glance. "He'll be back up in a moment Craig, he just needs a little breather. If you want to come down with us you can"

"I'd like to stay here, ma'am"

She blankly nodded once, and left the door. Before she could I had grabbed ahold of the side of her dress, stopping her escape and grabbing her attention.

"Can you teach me how to do that."