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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find	By : Breech_Loader Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2543 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no money from this story, and I own none of the characters used in it. I do not own South Park.

Chapter List
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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find
By Breech Loader
Breech: No reviews? Why no reviews? I demand reviews!
Chapter 3: Good Day
“Constantine Tweak, and Leopold Stotch. Say you want about kids these days, but no normal 14 year old boy should collapse from heart failure and require CPR from his schoolmate,” the doctor glanced into the room. Despite his recent heart failure, Constantine was wide awake and shaking violently, while Leopold was sitting next to the bed holding his hand and almost breathless with crying.
“Drug abuse?” the nurse suggested.
“With what? Caffeine?” the doctor shrugged, “But the Stotch boy swears blind he was with him all day and the only thing he’s had all day is coffee and school dinner. And he’s fine.”
“I just think the police might be interested in the Tweak boy’s case.”
“You saved my life! I can’t believe you saved my life!” Tweek squeezed Butters’ hand again. He had been saying the words over and over for several hours now.
“Neither can I!” Butters wiped tears off his face, “I… I’ve never been so happy!”
Tweek meant to ask Butters if he often got happy when his friends nearly dropped dead in front of him, but gazing into his eyes only made him happier. Somehow, he was even happier that it had been Butters there with him. They hugged, and this time they held even tighter.
“Hey guys.”
“JESUS!” Tweek yelped in shock
They turned to see Stan, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny in the door.
“Uh, hey fellas,” Butters smiled.
“JESUS CHRIST!” Tweek clutched his chest, “Don’t do shit like that, guys! You’ll give me another heart attack!”
“Sorry, Tweek,” Kyle told him casually, “It’s just that Butters is kind of a hero right now for saving your life and all. It’s going all around town.”
“Aw, fellas, I’m no hero,” Butters brushed at his shirt lightly, “I just did CPR on my friend. Anybody could do that. Why, I bet any one of you would do that for me!”
There was a brief silence, before Cartman spoke up, “As your best friends, Butters, we would like to remind you that we are here to be your PR Agents while you give a statement to the press. Here, I’ve written one for you.”
“Butters!” Tweek protested, “You’re not going to fall for their crap again, are you?!”
“Aw, gee fellas,” Butters took the speech off Cartman with a placid smile, “That’s awful kind of you to think of me like that. But if you want a statement, it’s that after seeing a real friend drop dead and then saving his life all by myself, I don’t feel like I need you all that much right now.” He tore up the sheets systematically without looking at them.
All the boys in the room stared at him for a few seconds.
“Sonuva Bitch!” Cartman stated.
“Alright boys, I think you’ve seen that your little friends are okay,” a nurse turned up to shoo them out, “Time to go!”
“Dude, who’d have thought Butters could be such an asshole?” Stan asked Kyle as they walked out of the door.
At the door, Cartman turned around, “You’re my bitch, Butters!” he yelled, “You’re no hero, you’re just my little bitch and YOU WILL RESPECT MY AUTHORITY!!!”
Butters watched him go blankly, before turning back to Tweek. Tears were welling up in his eyes again, “I don’t want to be a hero,” he mumbled, “Not if it’s because you got hurt.”
They hugged again, and the nurse smiled, “All right, young man,” she told Butters, “Your parents are here to pick you up. You can come and visit again tomorrow, but Constantine needs sleep.”
“If I’m not grounded,” Butters mumbled to Tweek, before letting go of him.
“I’m not t-tired,” Tweek told the nurse, as Butters waved him goodbye, “Where are my mom and dad?"
“They’re outside… talking to the police,” the nurse smiled gently, “I just want to run a few tests, Constantine. Is that okay with you?”
“Everybody I know calls me Tweek,” he told her, “And can I have some coffee? I could really use it… I… I really could use some…”
“No coffee, young man. You had a coffee just before you suffered from failure, and we won’t be able to let you drink coffee again until we know it’s not what caused… this incident. Now just sit up and I’ll check you out.”
"N-no c-coffee?" Tweek’s paranoia was screaming for acknowledgement, but Tweek just sat up, trembling.
The nurse started to examine him, and her lips pressed into a thin line. Tweek’s chest was like a toast rack, he shook constantly, his hair was thinning, and there were scratch marks on his skin. Could this 14 year old boy actually have a Meth addiction? The Stotch boy had told them about him having a seizure at school that day. She took a blood sample.
“Let me put it this way,” the doctor told the police, “If this boy hadn’t built up some kind of tolerance to the drug, the level of methamphetamines he’s recently ingested would have killed him, with or without heart failure. The amount in his system is strong enough to kill an adult, never mind a child. He’ll be in hospital for a week.”
“It’s terrible,” Sergeant Yates observed, “Boys are taking drugs at younger and younger ages. But my job,” he sat up straight, “Is to find out where he’s getting his fix from, and shut it down. No Meth Labs, no Meth Heads. It’s as easy as that.”
“Well, I’m not sure it’s that easy,” the doctor shrugged, “The Stotch boy was with him all day. He’s quite adamant that Constantine Tweak never ingested any drugs besides a couple of cups of coffee, but here it is.”
“What about his parents?” Yates asked, “What do we have on them?"
“They run and own Tweak Bros Coffee. They’re currently in a state of shock over their son’s near-death experience. He drinks a lot of coffee and Mr Tweak keeps saying that there must have been something wrong with their batch, no matter how much I try to tell him that normal coffee couldn’t possibly do this to a child.”
“Their coffee is incredible,” Yates mused, “And if that says anything to me, it says that if one 14 year old boy can suffer heart failure from oral ingestion of Meth, another 14 year old can be a drug dealer. We just need to follow Stotch, and we’ll follow the white, powdery trail to bringing down this Meth organisation once and for all.”
Breech: In case you didn’t know, I think Yates is even more useless than Barbrady. At least Barbrady had the excuse that he couldn’t read.
Short chapter, I know.
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A Happy Place Is Hard To Find