Author Note: Big thanks to my lovely reviewers, let's point out the obvious, solarsphere101, xxSay and Andatariel.x! And of course, to everyone who's read and alerted the story. I can't promise I'm always going to be updating this fast but honestly, I'm kind of excited to know how people will react to certain parts. We're getting into the flashback chapters now, I hope they're not horrifically intrusive, but I've always been a subscriber to the 'show, don't tell' attitude – not that I always take my own advice there. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

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It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap, we gotta get out while we're young...

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Ike wanders down the street to the house, passing a couple of women of his parents generation although not so prematurely aged, laughing between themselves, and a younger man leaning against a car smoking a cigarette. He does not give them any attention as he walks the path to Tweek's door, wondering what he is expecting to find. Anything? Nothing? Just to pass the time with a man he doesn't think he remembers?

He knocks loudly, not knowing if the man will even speak to him. Why should he? He doesn't know if Tweek will remember his name, he isn't even sure that he and Kyle were friends.

We were friends, Kyle says. We were kids, but... he knew us. And he was cool.

"Who is it?"

The words come through the door and Ike pauses before answering. "Um, hi. My name's Ike Broflovski, I'm – oh shit. I'm here finding out about my brother Kyle and you were in his class?"

There is a pause so long that Ike believes Tweek has written him off as a nutter and gone back to daytime TV. But then he hears the lock slide back, almost imperceptibly.

"C-come in," says Tweek.

Ike pushes the door open and sees a man at the other side, taken several steps back to blend in with the shadows. The blinds are closed and it's a little hard to make him out, but Ike immediately thinks that Tweek Tweak reminds him of a blonde Edward Scissorhands. His hair sticks in those same wild spikes, he is paler than he should be and there are shadows beneath his eyes that suggest he might have last slept sometime around his fifteenth birthday. But in spite of those things, the resemblance that make Ike think of the character is something in the eyes. The way he stares as if seeing something new and frightening and possibly dangerous. And he will run if he can, hide if he is able – but if he is put into a corner, he will lash out.

Tweek gives him a shaky half-smile, tinged with suspicion. "You want coffee?"

"Please." Ike follows Tweek through to a kitchen that is the polar opposite of what the hallway has led him to believe. He had anticipated more of the same shadowy darkness but instead, the kitchen is light and airy, pale sunlight coming through sheer curtains. The outside world is still invisible, but at least the light can filter through. Tweek makes coffee, good and strong, sitting at the table and indicating for Ike to do the same.

"I don't get many gnk visitor," says Tweek nervously. "My parents are working and I mean, it's not like I can go anywhere." He gives Ike an apologetic look, as if this fact is going to get him shouted at. "I'm agoraphobic."

"I heard," replies Ike, taking a sip of the coffee. "This is great."

"Coffee, I can handle," says Tweek, his apology giving way to curiosity. "Ike, why are you here? I don't get it."

Ike stares into the cup. "I'm just – trying to find out more about my brother. Come to terms with what happened to him I guess. I thought talking to his old friends might help me know more about him." He shrugs. "Probably dumb, but it's all I could think of to do."

Tweek nods. "I don't know how gnk dumb or not it is, but at least you're doing ack something." There is something in his eyes that Ike cannot place, maybe mild jealousy that Ike can tackle his demons head-on, while Tweek remains hidden indoors. "I'll help you if I can GAH! But me and Kyle weren't really close friends or anything."

"I know, but there aren't that many of Kyle's close friends in town." Ike smirks. "Just Kenny McCormick and I haven't been able to get hold of him yet."

"Kenny sees about as many people as I do," replies Tweek, shaking slightly. "That's what I gnnn hear anyway. He's a recluse by choice."

"Well..." Ike sighs. "I need to talk to him at some point. But for now – maybe you can help me out?"

Tweek holds his coffee by his lips while he thinks. "When I first – well, the morning I woke up and found I physically GAH! Couldn't walk out of the door, I was scared to death. I didn't get it and I guess I still don't. My friends still came over to see me when they were still here, before they all went off to college and got a life..." He stares into the mid-distance, expression wistful. "But most people didn't bother. Kyle did though, a few times."

"He did?" Ike blinks, Kyle never mentioned this back then.

"Not often." Tweek puts the cup on the table. "But yeah, sometimes. He'd bring library books. Stuff about agoraphobia, how to deal with it, possible ways to combat it, self-help tricks. None of it worked for me. But ack I appreciated him trying. A lot of people just forgot I was here. And y'know, Kyle was dealing with some of gnk his own shit, I suppose."

Ike leans forward slightly. "What kind of shit? Just the normal teenage stuff, or something more specific?"

"Both." Tweek gives Ike a slight smile but his brow is creased, as if trying to decide what to say. "I'm not – ACK – I don't know if I should say..." His hands go into his hair and tug lightly. "Shit, this is so much pressure..."

Ike leans a hand across the table and touches Tweek's arm. Tweek's tics initially alarmed him a little, but now he is finding they make it easier for him to place the man in his memory and remembers them as nothing to be concerned about. "No pressure, honest. I'd like to know though and whatever you say can't hurt Kyle now, can it?"

"It's not Kyle I was thinking of," replies Tweek. "It's Stan."

"Stan?" Ike shakes his head in confusion. "I don't get it. And he's not here either. Look, I can keep a secret but – if this is something I should know, then please Tweek, please. Tell me."

Tweek looks for a moment as if he will stubbornly refuse, then abruptly sighs. "Did you ever go to Park County High?"

Ike nods. "Only for part of the first year, I was skipped ahead a ton of times so I was the youngest kid in school."

"Thought I ack remembered that. How did you find it?"

Ike has to struggle to remember, although his recall is usually excellent. His memories of that year are tinged through with Kyle's death and he knows that after that, he was whispered about, stared at, avoided uncomfortably. He was miserable. But before that, school had been – well, similar actually. He had not been accepted because of his youth, whispered about and stared at for a whole different reason. But much as he hadn't liked it, he had been better off than he had been after.

Oh, come on says Kyle. You were harassed to hell, genius Jew. It might have gotten worse later, but it was pretty fucking bad to start with. Could have been worse if it hadn't been for your big brother being around. Don't you remember how much you were dreading your second year? When you assumed I'd be in college and unable to look out for you?

"It was pretty rough," admits Ike.

Tweek gives a short laugh. "For me too. The way the school was, most of the kids were from North Park and there was some turf rivalry ack always going on. That place was a fucking shark tank. I wasn't real good at dealing with it, but when they found out – it got worse."

"Found out what?"

Tweek refuses to meet his eyes. "That I was gay. It was so stupid how they found out and it went all the way around the school in a day. The South Park kids didn't much care, or most of them said they didn't. Clyde, he was a shit about it and that hurt like hell, because we'd been friends since pre-K. But he'd been acting like a shit since we got to High school, GAH! I shouldn't have been gnnnk surprised. But the others... GAH oh Jesus they were bad. I got so scared and sick about going to school and one day..." He indicates to the space around him. "I just couldn't leave the house. No way."

The blonde plays with his fingers nervously, still not looking up. His entire demeanour reminds Ike of a far younger man, expecting scorn. He tries to meet Tweek's eyes, but they are darting nervously and it's impossible. "I'm not bothered about you being into guys Tweek, don't look so worried. I'm gay too."

Tweek looks back at him gravely. "You're not my type."

Ike gives a snort of laughter and Tweek manages a small grin. Ike gets the feeling that given the right set of circumstances, Tweek might have got over his fears and wonders why no one has been there to give him that help. Are his parents so selfish that they would rather have him with them and trapped in this half-life than get him some kind of professional help?

"I just said because you look like I'm about to start throwing shit at you." Ike shakes his head, his smile leaving. He never was very good at revealing his sexuality to people, always picking the wrong person, the wrong circumstance, an inappropriate moment. But he wanted more to reassure Tweek that he wasn't bothered about any of that and it seemed to work, so at least the awkwardness has served its purpose. "I don't wanna sound heartless, but what does that have to do with Kyle?"

Tweek shrugs, eyeing Ike carefully. "One time, Kyle came over with Stan. Stan was someone else who came over occasionally, even though ack he was one of the – well, the popular kids. Not like the rest of them though. He was GAH! He was nice, not mean. Didn't seem to care if something he did wasn't ack wasn't acceptable. And he'd try to talk me through it, say he'd keep an eye out for me if I gnnn went back to school." Tweek is shaking at the thought, although he is a long way past ever having to return.

Tweek unlocks the front door and backs away so he does not get an accidental glimpse of the outside world. The psychiatrist says that some agoraphobics are able to look through the windows, observe what is going on, but Tweek can't. Any sight of the world outside the window fills him with a sense of longing and wistfulness, at the same time the very vastness fills him with crawling fear. Anything could be out there. Anything at all.

Kyle has already texted to say he is on his way, wanting to pick up some of the library books that he left for Tweek a couple of weeks previously. He is used to Tweek's neurosis about seeing through the door and there is a slight pause before he enters the house, sending Tweek a grin that Tweek has to respond to. Kyle seems exceptionally happy that day – and when Stan Marsh enters the house behind Kyle, Tweek is not surprised. Kyle always seems brighter when his friends are around, with the exception of Cartman.

"H-hey," says Tweek, leading them through to the kitchen. It is the place where he is the closest to sunlight and consequently where he spends a lot of his time. A part of what makes his fear so maddeningly irrational is that he misses the outdoors, the wind on his face, the sunshine, even the snow – but whenever these things are not just memory, they send him running back for the house, literally vomiting in terror.

"Hey Tweek," says Kyle and Stan echoes the sentiment with a smile. Stan is either not as good an actor as Kyle or he sympathises more, because there is pity clear in his eyes. Tweek both appreciates and resents it. He is infuriated with himself because he can't understand his own fear.

"Did the books help any?" asks Kyle hopefully. If Stan is the one to sympathise with Tweek's problem, then Kyle is the one to tackle it practically. Stan looks for the root cause, Kyle wants to deal with the immediate problem. If Kenny were with them, the blonde would be advocating him to ignore his fear and just get on with it. None of the approaches have worked so far and Kyle's books have been of no real help, saying much the same things as the ones he has read before and the psychiatrists that have paid him home visits – there are no other kind for an agoraphobic.

"S-sure," lies Tweek. He is grateful for their attempts to help him, almost pathetically happy to see people. All he wants is to be normal though and it is this that he thinks people don't understand. They think he is choosing to give in to his fear and refuse to face the world, when in reality there is nothing Tweek would like more. The symptoms of standing on the doorstep are not just mental though, they are physical too and it is hard for him to control his mind when his body shakes and his stomach revolts.

"You want coffee?" he asks them, going over to the counter, which is spotless. Tweek might not be able to control how he feels, but inside the fortress of his home, he can exert some influence over his surroundings.

"We can't stop," says Stan as Kyle grabs the books from the counter. "Kenny just came back today. We're gonna go over and see him. He gets a bit uh, bummed after he's been gone."

Tweek recognises the euphemisms they use, he has heard them all his life. Kenny has come back not from holiday, but from death. And although Tweek would not say he has seen Kenny bummed, the man is usually distant and distracted following one of his mortality incidents. Perhaps he saves those emotions for when he is alone with his real friends.

"Say hi to him for me," says Tweek, a bit wistfully, he did not even known that Kenny has been dead. Not that Kenny dying is anything new of course, but Kenny is someone else who stops by on occasion, usually for only a couple of minutes, as if checking that Tweek is still alive.

"This one sounded like it had some good ideas," says Kyle, picking up the top book and waving it slightly before adding it to the pile. "Was it any use?"

"It said ack to take small steps," says Tweek, not having the heart to tell Kyle it was simply more of the same thing he has heard countless times before, written by someone more used to dealing with rich, neurotic housewives than gay teenage boys. "I'm g-gonna give it a try." And he will too, although he is already certain it will not help. He knows some people would say it is the fatalistic attitude that defeats him before he even begins, but experience has taught him that when his hopes are raised, it is always for nothing.

"Cool." Kyle grins at Tweek again. "We gotta go. See you soon, I'm gonna see if I can harass the librarian to get some more books in. There's a DVD in the Denver library, I'm trying to talk her into getting a loan on it."

"Thanks," says Tweek, slightly embarrassed but pleased that Kyle is doing this for him, there is no need at all to go to these lengths. If asked, Kyle would probably say that it is no big deal and to him it might not be, barely even needing him to go out of his way – but to Tweek, it means a lot. It means he has not been forgotten and left to rot away in this house.

"See you soon," says Stan as the pair of them go through the front door and leave Tweek all alone. He sighs a little, it would have been nice if they could have stayed longer but that they were there at all is a bonus. He is under no illusions about where he stands on the scale of importance for most people. And what would they talk about? They would not want to talk about school because of what had happened to him and he could discuss nothing but treatments and daytime TV.

Unless he does what he has said he will and starts facing his fear.

The smallest step, the book said, was to face the world from the fortress. To look at the outside through a protective shield. In other words, to take a peek through the window and know that he is safe, that nothing can happen to him. He can focus on the ground, on a plant, try to keep his mind blank – but the simple act of doing that will make it easier the next time and perhaps boost his confidence, so that he knows he can do it.

He goes into the living room, his stomach already knotting, sweat forming on his brow. He cannot believe the struggle he has to go through merely to get to the window, with every step his muscles seem to gain weight until he walks sluggishly, shaking harder than ever. Had he been able to see himself, he would think he looks like he is in the throes of some fever. But he is not thinking of that. He is having himself a daydream that is all that prevents him simply giving up and hiding. In his daydream, he looks through the window. Kyle and Stan are at Stan's elderly car, standing by the doors but not inside yet, talking about something over the roof. Then Kyle looks at the window and he says something to Stan, Stan turns to look and they both give him wide smiles. Because they recognise that he has achieved something major by simply pulling back the curtain.

This dream is mild compared to some of those he indulges in when he is safely away from seeing the outdoors – his most visited is the one where he simply tears open the front door and runs all the way to Craig's house, jumping up and down and shouting about how he DID it and seeing the pride in Craig's face – but it is close enough to reality to be the spur he needs to get to the window. His trembling hand rests on the curtain and for a moment, he hesitates. Can he really do this, knowing how it has always gone since the first time he realised he was simply trapped here?

He takes a deep breath and his knuckles go white as he grips the fabric, twitching the curtain aside and looking out.

Vertigo overtakes him and he reels, almost fleeing. The small street on which he lives seems to have expanded to a vast area, alien and terrifying. He turns cold, feeling his clothes start sticking to his body with sweat. But he forces himself to stay, even though he is sure he will either throw up or faint any moment.

Focus on something familiar, the book had said. Thinking of the book makes him glance at Stan's car parked in the driveway. Stan is in the drivers seat already, unlike his daydream. Kyle is slamming the back door, presumably he has put the books there ready to return. He opens the passenger door and slides in, giving Stan a smile. Something about that smile makes Tweek pause, not exactly forgetting his fear, but giving his mind something else to focus on instead.

Stan turns his head to say something to Kyle and Kyle leans across, quick as a flash and presses his lips to Stan's. It is fleeting and over within seconds, Kyle leaning back again with a mischievous, yet affectionate smile. Even from this distance, Tweek can see the light in his eyes. And he can read Stan's body language in spite of being able to see nothing of his face, the boy is clearly not upset or tense over the incident. It is an unexpected moment, the gesture is anything but.

Good luck you guys, thinks Tweek without bitterness – he is happy for them, he can see from Kyle's face that the redhead is head over heels for the star quarterback. He is afraid for them though, blackly terrified. A part of it is the window, the world they are about to drive off into to face the consequences, some of it is the memory of what he went through. Those memories add to his barely-contained urge to run and suddenly, he can take no more of seeing what lies outside his walls, what his friends are heading into.

He drops the curtain and bolts for the kitchen and the sink, getting only as far as the hall before he doubles over and vomits across the carpet. He leans a hand on the wall and sinks to his knees, still emptying his stomach, dimly aware that he will have to clean up before his mother returns – she will be disappointed, she has told him repeatedly that he does not need to push himself too far – but more concerned with easing his shakes, regaining control of his terror. He is horribly aware of the door behind him, the only thing that is keeping the outside out. His spasms fading, he leans against the wall and wraps his arms around his knees, feeling faint and dizzy and thinking he would do anything to be over this, anything at all, anything. He is no longer thinking of Kyle or Stan, his eyes are firmly locked on the door and he suspects he will not be trying this experiment again any time soon. And although he does not know it, that final view of the kiss between the two boys will be the last time he sees either of them.

Ike tries to process what he has heard. Obviously he remembers the pair being close, but even back then, he didn't suspect this. "Kyle and Stan were dating?"

"I guess." Tweek laughs a little. "I never told a soul until now. I didn't want them to go through what I did, so I kept quiet until they were ready to come out – if they ever were. And then Kyle died and Stan left and there didn't seem to be any point. Not that I had anyone to tell. So... there it is. Not proof gnk but I know that's what was going on."

Ike sits, trying to remember if there is anything that might have triggered suspicion back then. He can think of very little. Stan and Kyle were always close, but by the time Kyle died that was just a part of life. But then, had they been too close for just friends? Certainly Ike has never had a friendship, or a relationship for that matter, that was anything like what Kyle and Stan had.

"Are you pissed?" asks Tweek quietly.

"Huh?" Ike looks up, shakes his head. "No. It doesn't bother me – it shouldn't, considering." He chuckles a little. "I just don't believe I didn't know."

"I can believe it. You were just a little kid and I bet they were careful. Really careful. It didn't matter that Stan was the star player and Kyle was kinda popular himself – that would have meant shit if this'd come out." Tweek frowns. "Or maybe it wouldn't have mattered for them. All I know was that it made life hell for me. So gnk I'm biased. I thought they were waiting until after they left school. Things would be different then maybe."

"Only Kyle never got out of school," says Ike, then grimaces.

"No," agrees Tweek sadly. "He didn't. So I guess we'll never know."