A/N So, I'd like to take this time to explain a couple of things that have probably been confusing to a few of you- I know they were to my only reviewer for the last chapter, Dawne. Craig was trying to get himself arrested, knowing that it would be best for Tweek. However, when he saw that Tweek was going to be legally affected by his own arrest, he decided to get them both out of there. Bebe, suspecting this, wanted to give them a chance; she had no way of knowing whether or not the boys would take the opportunity she provided, but, luckily enough, they did. Hope that clears things up! If I haven't mentioned it before, this is adapted from a roleplay, and that's why it might be unclear at times. Anyways. Short chapter now, but please review anyways! There are only four more chapters after this one, we're more than 2/3 of the way through!

Thanks to Dawne

Disclaimer I don't own South Park or any associated characters, events, etc.

Stage 11. ([[{o.r.—n.o.t}]])

10:53 pm

July 30th, 2011

South Park, Colorado

Me: HEY!

don't tell the police officer!

we snuck back to Craig's house

Tweek was sitting up now, Craig's laptop balanced on his knees, the dark-haired boy himself in his bedroom. Craig had said that he needed to have a couple of minutes to calm down, but had only left after Tweek's insistent confirmation that, yes, he was fine. Of course he was fine. The last hour or so had been hard… horribly, horribly torturous, but if it was what he needed to get to the point with Craig where he had now arrived, then it was worth it, worth it a million times over. Now, perched here on this slightly saggy couch, bloodied and sweat-soaked, aching all over, Tweek was happy, as happy as he could ever imagine being.

Bebe: Nice job, guys...

Me: WE are BOTH safe

Bebe: okay, now tell me what to do with this officer!

Me: I don't know!

Bebe: dammit

Me: umm...

He felt a small nudge of fear. Surely the officer wasn't a problem at this point? She would find a way to take care of him, one way or another. She had to. Otherwise… Craig had locked the door, but certainly that wouldn't be a challenge for police officers… Tweek pulled himself farther into the corner of the couch, cradling the computer and casting a few furtive glances in the direction where Craig had gone. Hopefully, he'd be back soon.

Bebe: okay...done

you're good, I think

Yes! Then this was it, everything was perfect now… unless the rape came back… but surely it wouldn't. Not after this. Yet that faint possibility seemed to grow the more Tweek tried to ignore and degrade it, until it was a notable obstruction to the seemingly bright future laid out before the two of them.

So... you guys on good terms? No more forcedness?

Me: i-i believe so...

Although i am worried...

Bebe: Well...Craig...you can do this, I know you can

His eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.

Me: NO this is Tweek

Bebe: Tell him?

tell him that i know he can do it

Tell him? Not seeing her next, more detailed line, he entered a thoughtless inquiry, then glanced up, blushed, and excused it.

Me: Tell him what?

oh

Bebe: Yeah.

Me: no, i can't right now

It had been quite a few minutes… the inescapable worry gnawing at Tweek's lungs suddenly seemed to take a new direction, find something else to latch onto and begin demolishing. His breath automatically came quicker. What could possibly have happened to Craig in that room? Surely there was something.

i-i am worried about him...

Bebe: how so?

Me: ever since we got back to his house he has been sitting in his room with the door locked...

Bebe: oh dear

Me: i am sitting in the living room with his laptop.

Bebe: Can you tell him that you're off? Like, no more legal pursuing?

you guys are free

you have each other now

Me: I know we are.

Lifting the laptop and carrying it by its edge in one hand, he nervously disrupted the orange blanket Craig had wrapped insistently around him (claiming he 'needed' it) to plod over to the tightly shut bedroom door he knew the other boy to be behind. "C-Craig?" he called hesitantly. Nothing. Hastily, he kneeled down to type.

He knows that too

but he won't come out

he won't talk to me...

i broke a promise...

Bebe: what's that?

Me: i promised him i wouldn't let anyone hurt him...

Bebe: And who did?

Me: i promised him that I would let him keep abusing me if it made him happy...

Tears were welling up in his eyes. "Craig! Craig!" Surely he was hated now. He'd been such an idiot to think that things could be resolved so easily.

Bebe: okay. But it wasn't worth it.

You'll both be happier now, I promise.

Me: he is more than likely to go back to that. but honestly I don't care.

Bebe: Tweek, I NEED you to care.

That can NOT be the core of your relationship.

Me: i-i just...i just can't

Bebe: there are better ways to help him.

Next time, I want you to make the approach, okay?

Me: he's still in his room...

Bebe: I want you to be the one to start things.

Me: i don't know what to do...

Bebe: Now, even, if you want.

Go to him. Knock on the door. Sit outside till it opens. when it does...

Kiss him. And then see what happens from there.

Shaking, Tweek let the computer slip from his fingers and stood again, not knocking, but throwing his whole weight against the door. "Craig! Craig!" he wailed, scrabbling at the doorknob, which stubbornly refused to budge. "Please! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I—I'll do anything, I swear!" Slowly, he sank to the ground, gasping, his fingers still pressed against the clean wood, moving over it as if searching for a single rough spot, something to hold onto, something that wasn't so slippery and unreachable. But there was nothing. Still trembling, he managed to tell Bebe that he'd done it, done what he asked.

Me: i knocked...i am sitting outside his door waiting right now...

Bebe: okay

Me: for the past 10 minutes...

He's not making any noise in there...