Obligatory disclaimer

I don't own it.

Joey walked down the street, his book bag thrown over one shoulder as Yugi chattered on about how his mother was complaining about him not keeping up with his studies again.

Tea laughed,"She worries too much!"

Yugi chuckled, " Yeah, I know, but it's because she loves me."

Joey saw his street, "Later guys, " he said waving, "See you tomorrow." Yugi and Tea waved back. Tristan flashed a peace sign as they rounded the corner, disappearing from view. Joey climbed the flights of stairs. He stopped on the third, staring at door 301. He inhaled deeply and reached for the knob, pulling the door open with a loud squeal of protest.

"Dad, I'm home."

He was surprised to hear snoring coming from the couch in the living room. He crept inside, shutting the door with a soft click. Kicking off his shoes, he strode across the floor, avoiding the beer cans and the liquor bottles as he headed towards his room. He threw his bag on the bed and changed out of his uniform, putting on a plain black sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting comfortable jeans. re-entering the living room, he began picking up the beer cans, throwing them into a trashbag he grabbed from a box sitting on the table. Hearing his father groan from the couch, he looked over. Mr. Wheeler sat up, rubbing the back of his head. His eyes were bloodshot as he glanced over at Joey

"Joey? What're you doing?"

"Just cleaning up," he said grabbing some nearby bottles into the bag and tying it shut, satisfied with his work. Mr. Wheeler let out a loud yawn, followed by a hiccup, "I see..." He attempted to stand, wobbling and falling back down onto the worn-out cushions. Joey let out a sigh and shook his head a little. "Hey, you got the month's rent? It's due today you know."

This seemed to take the older man by suprise, "Was that today?"

"Yeah. I told you yesterday, remember?"

"I don't remember shit from yesterday," He said cracking his knuckles. Joey sighed, "Of course you don't..." he mumbled under his breath. Mr Wheeler glanced at him sharply, "What'd you say?"

"Er...nothing," he said quickly.

"Damn right nothing," Mr. Wheeler said reaching into his pockets and tossing some wadded up bills at the boy, "There, that's all I got."

Joey did some counting, "Uh...this's only half the rent..."

His father ignored him. Joey sighed. He reached into his wallet. He'd cover the rest with the last of the money from his part-time job. He stuffed the money into an envelope and headed for the door. "Where're you going?" his father asked pulling the cap off a fresh bottle of alcohol from the fridge. "To pay the rent. The sooner the better." Mr. Wheeler raised an eyebrow but said nothing as his son disapeared out the door, returning about 10 minutes later. Joey walked over to the couch and fliped on the TV with the remote. Mr. Wheeler walked over, arms crossed, "Shouldn't you be studying?" he asked, taking another draught of the burning liquid. Joey shrugged, "Yeah, I'll get on it in a sec, I wanna watch the iron chef."

"Uh-huh..." he said plucking the remote from his hands and clicking the off button, "Go study, brat." Joey frowned at his father, "It's only on for 5 more minutes, come on!"

"You heard me, Joseph," his father said. Joey grumbled and headed for his room as his father took another drink, letting out a hiccup.

"Lousy drunk..."

"Excuse me?"

Joey stiffened. Had he said that out loud? He knew the answer was yes as he felt his father spin him around and grip his shoulders hard, "What the HELL did you just call me?"

"I-uh...I..."

"So, I'm a lousy drunk, huh?" his father asked, "Well, at least I got a job!"

"Yeah, and then you waste all your money on alcohol and gambling!" Joey said, jerking away, "Face it dad, you have a problem!"

Mr. Wheeler glared, "Problem? I've got a problem? I've got a problem?"

Joey felt the harsh, pain of the slap before he registered the snapping noise it made as his fathers hand hit his cheek, leaving an angery, red handprint.

"There's you're problem!" Mr. Wheeler said, "Useless, no-good punk!" he added with a scowl,

Joey just met his fathers gaze steadily. He didn't even flinch as his cheek throbbed from the impact of the slap. Mr. Wheeler held his gaze for 5 long moments before letting out a sigh. He put a hand on Joey's shoulder softly. "I'm sorry, Joey. I...I didn't mean that. I shouldn't have hit you."

Joey closed his eyes, "I know, dad. It's okay."

Mr. Wheeler gave his shoulder a squeeze before pulling away, " I'm uh...working another shift today, so uh...just do whatever for dinner...Order a pizza or something."

Joey nodded, " Yeah, okay."

"Your cheek hurt?" He asked, eyeing the now dark red handprint on his sons face.

"Nah, I'm fine. This ain't nothin'...It's cool"

Mr Wheeler looked at the 16 year old who looked so much like himself at that age. He gave a quirky half-smile, "Yeah, that's cuz you take after me. Wheelers are tough, right?"

"Right, dad." he said "I'll save you some pizza."

Mr. Wheeler gave a vauge nod as he slipped into his working overalls and boots. "I'll see you later tonight, Joey..."

"Later, pops."

Mr. Wheeler shuffled out the door, shutting it witha loud click. Joey touched the mark on his face, going over to the bathroom and looking at the mirror. It'd leave small bruise. No problem. He'd just say he ran into a door or something. They'd fall for that. He ran into stuff all the time. Joey grabbed the remote again, turning the TV on and reclining against the cushions.

Just another day in the Wheeler home.