A/N: I hope Two-Bit doesn't sound too OOC here. I tried to think about how he would feel about his father, and how hurt he was by his leaving and I came up with this.

S.E. Hinton owns all.

Buck's usually wasn't the first place you went to on this day of the year. No, the Curtises were always first on this day. It was the one day a year where you truly showed Mr. Curtis just how damn much you appreciated him and everything he had done for you.

Of course, the gift was usually swipd, but did he really expect anything else out of you? Probably not. Instead he'd grin, shake his head, and give you a one-armed hug. Almost as if you were his son.

But not this year. Not ever again.

This year, the Curtis boys were alone in their house, trying to get through this first Fathers Day without him.

Steve was working, trying to avoid his old man as much as possible.

Dallas was most likely blowing off steam in a fight somewhere.

Johnny was more than likely out in the lot, trying to avoid home but not wanting to disturb the Curtises.

And you? You were sitting in a bar, getting plastered.

You had never particularly liked Fathers Day. Sure, Mr. Curtis made it easier. He was the best father figure you could have asked for. He taught you everything he taught his own sons: How to ride a bike, how to shave; how to treat women. He was always there to brighten up even the worst of days with a joke or a simple grin, no matter how bad his own day had been. A trait Sodapop seemed to have inherited.

Grimacing, you take another swig of your Bud. How was it that such a great man had been taken away, but your own father was still out there somewhere?

You quickly shake your head in an effort to clear your head. Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it...

Thinking about your father -Joseph- had always been painful. He had left when you were four; Carla just six months. No note or anything. Simply just got up and left. It had left you broken hearted for the first few years. But over the years, it had been replaced with anger.

Because of him, your mother worked at all hours of the night just trying to make ends meet. She had no support system anymore. No one to love her or support her in ways that her children couldn't.

Carla never got the chance to have a daddy.

And you were left trying to look after them and yourself, not being allowed to show just how angry you felt.

Granted, your situation wasn't as bad as Steve's, Johnny's, or Dallas'. At least you had a place to call home, an amazing mother who did everything for her children and a little sister. It was ten times better than getting kicked out, having hurtful words spit at you, or getting beaten. Because of this, you felt as though you weren't allowed to hurt.

Mr. Curtis was the best father figure you could have asked for, but he couldn't replace your father. No matter how badly you wished he could.

Joseph was the one who was supposed to teach you how to ride a bike. How to shave. How to treat girls.

He was supposed to love and care for you.

You take another swig of beer and welcome the sting of the alcohol hitting your throat. Greasers are tough and cool. They didn't care about their deadbeat fathers. They bitched and moaned about how useless they were, but they never, ever cared.

No matter how hard you tried to fool yourself, you couldn't. You did care, and you hated yourself for it.

What did he do to deserve all of this feeling from you? Nothing, that's what. Yet every year it hurt more and more. You wanted to be celebrating your father and all of the great things he did for you. Of course, you still celebrated Mr. Curtis, but he just wasn't the same.

At least for the past eleven years, you had him. This year you had no one.

No. You did have someone. He just didn't care enough to be a part of your life.

Maybe that's why you drank so much. To make yourself forget about all of the hurt he had caused you and your family. Or maybe it was because you hated yourself for even giving a damn about him in the first place, and you didn't know how to stop it.