AN:Hello Lovelies=] So here is chapter two of this story. It is mostly a flashback. I'm sorry to MagicalFantasie and JustMyBestseller but it is indeed Burt that is the big bad in this story. No Blainers in this chapter but he should be showing up either next chapter or chapter 4. Thankies again to Willowfan for betaing for meeeeeeeee=] I luff you more than Rachel Berry loves gold stars=]

D/C: Still don't own Glee… Unfortunately…

It's currently 4:00 in the morning, and even after half a bottle of ibuprofen, my head is killing me. The light isn't helping at all, and I have school in four hours, but I can't sleep. I'm so damn tired of this; I miss my dad. It wasn't always this bad. I mean, obviously things changed when mom died, but it wasn't until I was 15 it got like this. I remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday, when in reality it was 2 years ago or so...

*flash back*

Kurt was in the kitchen cooking dinner, when he heard the front door slam shut. He then heard the shuffling of feet; followed by the thud of a body running into a wall. He turned the fire off from under the stew he was currently cooking, and ran out to the hallway.

His dad was leaning heavily against the wall with his eyes closed and Kurt noticed he was swaying slightly. As he stepped closer to his father, he could smell the stench of alcohol rolling off of him in waves.

"Dad?" Kurt said softly, slowly reaching out towards his father. Kurt couldn't help the way he jumped when Burt grabbed his arm and squeezed. His father slowly opened his eyes and Kurt saw that they were horribly bloodshot.

"What do you think you're doing?" Burt spat out at him, slurring slightly.

Kurt winced a bit at the harshness of his father's voice and tight grip he had on his arm.

"Was just making sure you were okay." Kurt whimpered out. Burt tightened the grip on his arm even tighter and Kurt had to fight off the cry of pain welling up in his chest.

"I'm fine! Now go finish cooking my dinner." Burt demanded, shoving Kurt away from him.

Kurt went back into the kitchen confused and hurt as ever. Looking down at his arm, he noticed that dark, finger shaped bruises were forming already. He quickly brushed away the tears forming in his eyes and finished the stew in silence.

Burt walked into the kitchen, stumbling slightly and slumped into his chair at the table.

"Kurt, grab me a beer." He told his son.

"Dad, don't you think you've had enough tonight?" Kurt inquired as he spooned stew into two bowls.

"Don't fucking question me boy! Do as I say." Burt roared loudly, causing Kurt to almost drop the bowls in his hands. He sat them down on the table and walked to the refrigerator.

"Sorry dad, but you're out." Kurt said as casually as possible, but on the inside he's panicking. He heard his dad scoot back and he turned around just in time to be shoved out if the way.

"What do you mean I'm out? I had half a case left when I went to work this morning!" Burt hollered as he searched the fridge. He swung around to meet Kurt's gaze, "what did you do with them! You fucking dumped them out, didn't you?"

"No dad I didn't! I promise!" Kurt exclaimed in a panicked tone. Burt slapped Kurt with an open palmed hand, and shoved him again.

"Don't you fucking lie to me! I know you dumped them all out!" Burt yelled, shoving Kurt yet again.

Kurt got his footing and turned to run for the back door, but was quite fast enough. Burt closed in on him with only a few strides. In his panic, Kurt tripped over his own feet and hit the hard linoleum floor face first...

*end flashback*

Needless to say I blacked out and didn't remember anything when I woke up the next morning. I had a broken nose, goose egg on my forehead and I felt achy as all hell. When I went upstairs (not sure how I got to bed) there was blood all over the kitchen floor. Any guesses who got to clean it up? If you guessed me... ding ding you are a winner. Since that day it's been an inevitable occurrence. The worst part though, is I know I'll never escape it...