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Bn Min Minds	By : Katz Category: +S through Z > South Park > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2933 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own South Park, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Intro: A visit to the Crazy House
- 1
This story was inspired by the song: Every You Every Me by Placebo

//text// : indicates thoughts

Intro

Soft powdery snowflakes fluttered delicately down onto Tweek’s car as he slowly drove down a long winding road. The late afternoon air outside was icy cold and bitter, the wind was gentle but still strong enough to send the flakes across the mountains and to cover the small mountain town of South Park, Colorado in a blanket of white.

Nightfall was soon approaching. The days always seemed shorter, but then again it always did feel like that in South Park. People loved the beautiful town, but a lot had changed. This once fairly safe mountain hamlet had a dark past… A certain incident that had occurred nearly ten years ago… And it was one of the reasons why twenty-eight year old Tweek Tweek found himself driving in his car, in the icy cold weather instead of being at home, cuddling next to his wife in front of the television set on this dreary Saturday afternoon.

//I shouldn’t be doing this…What if something bad happens…//

He shook his head trying to clear away the negative thoughts as he pulled into a long driveway, stopping briefly at a pair of boom gates by a middle-aged security guard. Tweek explained his reasons for being there and after a moment of two, the guard aloud permission for the jittery man to continue forward.

Tweek slowroverove his car up the driveway, passing a sign that read: South Park East Psychiatric Hospital.

He started to sweat nervously, shaking more so than usual.

//Oh, *God*, tell me why I am doing this… why? I should be at home right now, with Bebe cuddling up next to me…//

//Shut up! You have to; you need answers… and closure… and you need to tell him about Kenny…//

Tweek pulled his dark red Honda into the almost empty parking lot of the Psychiatric hospital, the grey gravel crunching beneath the tyres as he manoeuvred his car into an empty space. He turned the engine off and undid his seatbelt but didn’t make a move. He just sat in the vehicle for a good 10 minutes looking out the frosty window at the snow -covered grounds.

The hospital didn’t look so bad… Kinda nice, really, but he didn’t want let his guard down - even with a few people outside.

Tweek was paranoid – it was a bad habit he’d had since childhood. His shaking and jittering wasn’t as bad as it was when he was younger – he took pills to control that, but when he was extremely nervous or anxious about something, his body would go into a involuntary series of tics and twitch’s.
When he was in his early teens his parents had him tested for numerous disorders including Tourettes, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, and even ADD for the fifth time - the results came up negative.

When he was fifteen, the doctors finally came to the realisation that it was the coffee that his parents were giving to him that made so paranoid and his nerves so jumpy, and they ordered the Tweek’s to stop giving it to him immediately. Tweek suffered some side affects from the coffee withdrawal but he eventually over came them.

Tweek sighed heavily as he slowly stepped out of the car, the central locking giving a single beep, and the lights flashing to signal that it was locked. He tested the doors to make sure the car was secured, then proceeded to walk up to the hospital entrance.

He pushed his sunglasses up, letting them rest neatly on top of his naturally wild blonde hair as he entered through a pair of automatic double doors, and into a pale green waiting room. He looked across the room spotting a bored looking busty young nurse sitting behind a desk. He took a huge gulp of air and nervously walked over.

There were a few random people sitting around the room in uncomfortable looking plastic chairs, reading 6-month-old magazines who looked just as equally bored as the nurse.

The blonde nurse looked no older than twenty-five. Tweek couldn’t help but glance down at her breasts, which were bulging out the top of her white uniform, and he smiled slightly at the sight before she looked up and took notice of him. He smothered the smirk quickly, diverting his pale blue eyes to his shaking hands. The nurse frowned.

"Can I help you?" she asked, a little annoyed.

"U-uh, yes, I hope so." Tweek stammered. "I-I have a appointment to see a patient. I was told to wait for a… " Tweek’s hands fumbled in his jeans pocket before finally protruding a crumpled up piece of paper. "… Doctor Sam Henson?"

The busty blonde sighed. "Name please."

"T-tweek Tweek."

"Just a minute." The nurse picked up her phone and dialled a number. After a few seconds, the other line was open.

"Doctor Henson this is Nurse Fairwaters, I have a man here named Tweek Tweek who says has a appointment to see…what…?" Nurse Fairwaters giggled into the phone. "Sorry doctor, my break isn’t for another two hours… Hee-hee, oh you’re naughty!" Tweek raised a brow at the nurse.

"Okay, I’ll tell him." She hung up the phone and looked at the blushing blonde man in front of her. "Doctor Henson said he’ll be down in 5 minutes. Take a seat."

Tweek nodded quickly and took the furthest chair in the room that he could find, clasping his hands nervously together in his lap and looked around anxiously. He hoped to God that no crazy people were going to burst into the room wearing straight jackets or wielding knifes above their heads, screaming bloody murder, or anything like that along those lines. The thought of it made him shudder. He could feel his body twitching…

//…What if someone comes in here and tries to kills us all!! I’ll never see my wife and kid again…! That’s waaay too much pressure man, oh sweet Jesus…! NO! Stop it, Tweek, you’re being paranoid again… Where are those pills…//

The nervous blonde reached into his jacket and pulled out a small bottle of prescription pills, opening the lid and pouring three little tablets onto the palm of his hand. The other people in the waiting room watched him cautiously as he lifted his shaking hand to his mouth -

//…My head hurts…//

- swallowing the pills dry. He sighed with relief when he started to feel the effects of the sedatives and he relaxed against the back of the chair, smiling at the gawking people in the room.

//I hate it when that happens…//

"Mister Tweek?" Came friendly voice across the room. Tweek’s head shot up at the sound of his name; his blue eyes looked around to see a tall red-haired man wearing a white lab coat standing beside the nurse’s desk. He stood up and walked across the waiting room quickly, avoiding eye contact with the others.

"Hello Mister Tweek, I’m Doctor Henson. You made an appointment last week to see one of my patients." The doctor said as the pair walked toward an elevator. He pulled out a manilla folder from underneath his arm, reading the file in silence as they waited for the lift. After a short moment the doctor looked up.

"You wanted to see Stanley Marsh, is that correct?"

Tweek nodded. "U-uh, yeah."

The doctor looked at Tweek for a long moment. "If you don’t mind me asking, why do you want to see Stan? You do know that he hasn’t spoken to anyone in nearly ten years, do you?"
Tweek nodded.

He *did* mind the doctor’s questions but answered him anyway.

"H-he’s my friend, and I have some news to tell him… And I have some questions to ask…"

The doctor looked at the trembling man that stood beside him. "I very much doubt you’ll get any answers out of Stanley, Mister Tweek. Stan’s suffering from a serious state of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Depression. He stopped talking about 10 years ago. Unfortunately no help was given to Stanley at the time, and it ate at him from the inside out. As you know, he’s been living here for the past eight years after his parents had him committed when he tried to kill himself. He doesn’t do much but sit on his bed and stare out the window, he’s been receiving treatment for the depression but he doesn’t seem to respond to it. It’s not really surprising considering the details of what he went through."

Tweek nodded. "I was there and saw everything, apparently."

Doctor Henson looked at the blonde in disbelief. "You were *there*!"

Tweek nodded solemnly. "Y-yeah, but I don’t remember a thing… I was hit on the back of the head, and was unconscious for weeks. When I finally woke up I had amnesia. Took me nearly a year to get back to normal somewhat… I couldn’t remember what had happened. I’ve been trying to get some answers for a decade now but nobody can help me, or wants to. I need closure… And Stan is my only hope."

The doors to the elevator opened and the pair stepped inside. Dr. Henson stepped forward to press the button for the 3rd floor, and soon the old elevator shuddered and groaned as it made it’s slow journey upwards. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut tight and clenched his jaw; he hated elevators - he didn’t trust them. When it finally stopped at the floor that they wanted, the pair walked slowly down a long stark white corridor.

The place smelt like hospital bleach and faint cries and moaning were heard from all directions. The place scared Tweek; his eyes darted nervously around as they passed multiple random doors. After a few minutes they finally stopped at one particular door.

The doctor turned to him. "Before you go in, mister Tweek, I need to explain some basic rules to you. First off, no eye contact for long periods of time, and no physical contact also. Even though the likelihood of Stanley attacking and seriously harming others is very minimal, we still don’t like to take risks with the public. Stanley can be easily startled if touched or spoken to suddenly so it’s best that you speak softly and calmly at first. A nurse will be right outside and I’ll be watching through a security camera if you have any problems. Ok?"

Tweek nodded nervously. Doctor Henson nodded once, and pushed a red button beside the door, letting it slowly open up into a small white room. Tweek took a small step into the doorway and paused for a second before slowly walking inside. The door shut behind him gently.

Tweek looked around at the stark white room wringing his hands together nervously before spotting a hunched figure wearing a pair of baggy white and blue striped pyjama’s, sitting at a small rectangular table by the only window in the room.

The nervous blonde carefully walked up to the table and pulled out a spare chair, sitting down. There was an irritating stillness in the room before Tweek spoke up. His stammering voice broke the deafening silence.

"H-hey, Stan… How’re you d-doing?" He didn’t recognise Stan one bit. The dark haired man wasn’t anything like the Stan that Tweek knew from his childhood and adolescence. Stan had definitely changed; there was no doubt about that.

His friend’s once smooth jet-black hair was slightly thinning on top and streaks of grey ran through it. Stan was incredibly thin, and Tweek wondered whether the people at this place fed him at all. His gaunt face was pale and dark rings appeared underneath his eyes from the lack of sleep. Stan’s appearance reminded him of what he used to look like when he was a child, addicted to coffee and hallucinating "Underpants Gnomes" visiting him in the early hours of the morning to steal his underwear.

Stan’s half lidded eyes stared out the window with no emotion - he didn’t even notice his old school friend sitting down in the chair opposite to him. His dull brown eyes no longer held that youthful spark they once had. It was if he were dead.

Tweek was taken aback by this sad sight. His memories of his old classmate were that of a bright young teenager so full of life and with many happy things to come. Stan was a good person; he didn’t deserve to live the rest of his life like this. He had always been sensitive, even more so than the ones that were considered "Melvins" in Elementary and High school… And it led to his gradual downfall.

Tweek sat in his chair and fidgeted nervously. The pills he took earlier were starting to wear off… he could feel it in his hands, shaking, clamming up and sweating… the nervous fear he had earlier was slowly returning, working it’s way up to his tightening chest… His lungs felt like they were being squeeand and suffocated until the last of his air escaped through his dry lips…

//Panic attack!!//

//Calm down you fool! Remember, no sudden sounds or movements… Oh God, I can't breathe! I haven't had a panic attack since my wedding… C’mon Tweek, you fool, breathe… breathe…! Deep breaths dammit…!//

Tweek closed his eyes, taking deep laboured breaths trying to calm his shaking body. He griped the edge of the table digging his nails into the chipped wood as the world began to swim around him…

//Don’t faint!//

It wasn’t until Stan’s head slowly turned toward him that he started to calm down somewhat. The dark haired man’s dull brown eyes locked onto the blonde’s wide pale blue orbs. He cocked his head to one side trying to recognise the person in front of him.
Tweek took this as the perfect opportunity to speak to him.

"H-hey… It’s me, Tweek." He paused to see what kind of reaction he would get out of his friend. Not seeing one, he continued. "It… it’s been a while since I’ve seen you, how have you been?" He looked around and sighed. "Not that good I guess… sorry I haven’t seen you for… well… well, since you were committed. Wow, eight years… you’ve missed so much…

//Don’t say that you idiot!//

The blonde cleared his throat loudly. "Everyone is doing fine, I guess. Wendy got married seven months ago… her and Clyde are expecting their first child soon… if it’s a boy, they’re gonna name him Kenny…" Tweek paused. "Listen, Stan, speaking of Kenny… K-kenny… Kenny died a few weeks ago."

Stan’s head perked slightly in interest but he didn’t say anything, he just turned away, closing his eyes momentarily before staring out the window again.

Outside, some of the sun’s afternoon rays broke through a small section of dark grey clouds, hitting the snow, making it shimmer and sparkle like white diamonds.

Tweek took a deep quiet breath looking down at his shaking hands that were resting in his lap.

"The hospital said he Od’ed on Heroin… they still haven’t determined whether it was a suicide or an accidental death yet… I’m really pissed off… Kenny should have known better." His voice took on a slightly angered tone. "Okay, yeah we all knew he did all kinds of shit back in school – well, mostly just pot, but he always said that he would never touch Heroin. He knew the dangers of doing that shit, I mean, he knew not to do it, y’know?"

His voice softened. "The worse part of all was that Phil found him. I-I mean, imagine coming home from school one day to find your dad dead on the floor with a needle sticking out of his arm."
Tweek sighed sadly. "The poor kid called an ambulance and tried to resuscitate him but… Kenny had been dead for hours. Phil’s pretty smart for a 10-year-old… he’s staying with Bebe and me now… Piper loves having his company; he’s a good kid. H-he’s trying his best not to let it get to him but he’s not hiding it well… But I guess it’s only been a few weeks so hopefully it’ll get better, I mean it has to, right?"

He sighed. "Kenny was always the strongest out of you guys. He always wanted to make something out of himself and not end up like his mom and dad… It started getting bad after Red left them just before Phil turned two. Damn, I hate what that bitch did she *knew* Kenny couldn’t look after Phil by himself, and he wasn’t getting much from pumping gas. He had to borrow money from everyone to pay the bills. He ended up getting fired from his job and arrested when he was caught stealing from the till. Luckily Wendy bailed him out; she was really good about that."

Tweek paused gave a small laugh. "R-remember when Phil was born, and Cartman teased Kenny cuz Phil had red hair just like Kyle’s, and had the same name as Pip."

The blonde smiled sadly. "You should see Phil now, Stan, he looks so much like Kenny – he’s got the brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen and his hair is blonde, not red anymore. It started getting lighter when he was… Six, I think,… Yeah six."

He paused again expecting a reaction - any reaction, but Stan didn’t make a move. He sighed sadly, slightly annoyed and looked toward the door before looking back at Stan. He decided to ask Stan now about the incident, he knew he probably wouldn’t get an answer out of his friend but he had to try – It was the main reason why he came here in the first place. He needed answers… now.

Tweek pulled his chair up close and cleared his throat again, his head started to ache but he i
ignored it. He locked his eyes firmly on the person in front of him.

"There was another reason I came here today… I need… I need some answers… about what happened back then. I need to know what happened to me, to you, to Kyle and Cartman, Kenny and… Pip. I want to know what set Butters and Dougie off."

Tweek closed his eyes before looking back at Stan. "I was there, apparently, but I don’t remember a thing after I was hit in the head. I woke up with no memories of it. I-I didn’t even know who I was, where I was… I didn’t even know how old I was at first. It took me over a year to recover fully. Sometimes there are gaps in my childhood memories, and I get headaches, but the pills I take for the tics and jittering clears it up a little… but it doesn’t bring back the memories of the incident."

He sighed. "For some reason it’s the only thing my brain doesn’t want me to remember, it’s like it’s purposely hiding that part of my life so I won’t be traumatised or something, but that’s stupid because I want to remember I need to remember. No one will tell me anything because they don’t know themselves and the authorities won’t help. Only you guys know what really happened… I-I need closure Stan; you’re the only person left to help me. I need you to fill in the gaps."

Tweek broke two of the most important rules. He reached across the table and gently clasped Stan’s hands into his own and looked him in straight the eye. Stan jumped at the sudden touch.

"*Please*, Stan, tell me. You have to." Tweek pleaded. Stan removed his hands from Tweek’s quickly and looked away. "I know you haven’t spoken in like 10 years but sometimes talking about it can help."

Tweek sighed. "Y’know you’re lucky in a way, at least you remember stuff… I wish I could, I’ve been suffering for 10 years. I would rather be in here and remember, than be outside and not have a friggin’ clue…"

Suddenly, Stan did something that neither Tweek nor his doctor in the next room expected. His chair flew back suddenly as he shot to his feet, and screamed in Tweek’s face.

"NO YOU FUCKING WOULDN’T!!!"

"……"

Stan was still standing, chair discarded behind him, his chest heaved up and down in shallow breaths, brown eyes – which had darken immensely during his sudden outburst, burned into Tweek’s blue eyes, first angrily, but then softening at his friends’ trembling form.

"…No you wouldn’t…" He repeated in a whisper. He slowly picked up his chair and sat down, burying his face in his hands.

Tweek sat frozen in his seat trembling worse than a bowl of jelly. After a long moment Dr. Henson and three nurses burst into the room. One of the nurses had a prepared syringe in her hand.

"Mister Tweek are you alright?" The doctor asked, very concerned but inwardly please that Stan had spoken for the first time in a decade. Tweek slowly nodded, still in shock, not taking his eyes away from his now shaking friend.

"Y-yeah… I… I’m alright… w-we’re just gonna tah… talk for a little longer." The blonde stammered badly in reply.

"Only if you’re sure." Dr. Henson said carefully. Tweek nodded. The doctor walked out of the room followed by the nurses. It was a few long minutes before Tweek decided to break the silence.

"…I …I’m sorry for upsetting you Stan, I didn’t mean it." He paused to see that Stan had his face buried still. "I just… I just…" He lowered his head, forcing back the need to cry.

"Why do you want to remember, Tweek." Stan’s deep voice spoke up softly from his hands. Tweek jumped in surprise.

"……"

"I’ve been suffering for ten years too. Eight years of my life was wasted in here because of it. I almost drove my car over a cliff in a drunken rage *trying* to get *rid* of my memories, and you want them *back*! I just don’t get it, Tweek… I just don’t get it." Stan looked up to the blonde, examining him for a full minute. Tweek squirmed in his seat trying not to look uncomfortable.

"L-like I said before, I need closure. I was there too and stuff happened to me as well and it affected my life just as bad as it did yours and the others. My memories of the incident are non-existent but the damage afterwards still remains. I wake up in the middle of the night, screaming for no reason. The back of my head aches all the time, and I have dreams of a dark, cold, damp room with people screaming and crying, wanting to be set free…"

Tweek paused to shat hat Stan had his eyes firmly shut, his knees pulled up close to his chest and hands griping clumps of his thinning black hair. He sighed sadly.

"Stan, I have something that I want to show you but I’m not too sure if I should…" Stan looked up slowly over his kneecaps.

"What is it…?" he whispered.

Tweek sighed and reached into one of his coat pockets. From it, he drew out a ratty old Polaroid photograph, placing it face down on the table, sliding it across slowly with two fingers. Stan unwrapped himself and cautiously picked up the snapshot.

His face paled when he turned the photograph over. His whole body started to tremble badly, and his eyes watered. He slowly looked up at Tweek with fear and shock.

"W-where did y-you get th-this?"

Tweek shrugged. "I dunno. When I was released from the hospital a few days after I woke up I found it one of my coat pockets. It scared the shit out of me. I never showed anyone… Until now… I don’t know why I kept it I should have ripped it up or burned it when I found it."

A single tear slowly rolled down Stan’s cheek and landed on the photograph.

"Have you seen it before?" Tweek asked. Stan nodded silently.

"Who took it, do you know?" Stan nodded again, trembling hands placing the picture face down on the table again. His brown eyes squeezed shut as painful memories ripped through his mind.

"Yes, I do." Stan whispered.

"Who then?" Tweek inquired.

"…P-pip did." Stan paused. "Pip took the photograph."

Tweek’s eyes widened. "…Wh …what, a-are you sure?" Stan buried his face in his palms.

"Yes, I’m very sure. It was what got him tangled in the mess in the first place."

"……"

"Tweek, if I’m to tell you the whole thing… You must promise me you won’t tell anyone - not your family nor your friends. You will keep this to yourself. Do you understand?" Stan said nervously, but firm.

Tweek nodded vehemently. "Of course! No one, I promise."
Stan took a deep breath and sighed. He looked over at Tweek once more, then out the window.

"Okay… listen carefully because I’m only gonna tell you once…"

***

A/N: Chapter One coming soon.
- 1
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Bn Min Minds