Forgot to put a disclaimer on the first chapter would but like to say, I own NOTHING. All the characters read about in this Fic have been created by the wonderful Kurt Sutter. I do not wish to take any credit and I am writing only as a hobby and a way of complimenting his work.

I wanted my steps to come slower. Infact I wished it had continued raining. It was only when I started to walk that I remembered dad had bought an extra couple of crates of beer last night.

Which means he'll have been drinking all day today.

I had no idea what state the house would be in when I got back. The states moms house would be in.

I was so lost in my thoughts I barely heard the roar of an engine come up behind be. But when I did I almost jumped in alarm.

I didn't recognise him at first, perhaps it was because his trademark blonde hair was covered by his helmet. His smile though, I did recognise. He had slowed to a crawl beside me, until I uncertainly stopped and turned to face him.

Pointedly giving him a questioning look.

I'd exchanged a couple of phrases with Jackson in the past, we'd been put in groups together in class and such, but that was it. I have no idea what he wants.

He switched of his engine and looked at me. Right in the eyes.

"Can I help you?" I asked stupidly. What else was I suppose to do? I think he thought it sounded idiotic also, cause he smiled widely and took off his helmet.

"Actually I was gonna offer you a lift, looks like it's gonna rain again soon and you're not exactly dressed for it". He looked me up and down then, not particularly suggestively, but like he was getting a good look at me. Summing me up.

I didn't like it.

"No thank you, I'm good with walking". Even though I said no neither of us seemed to move for a minute. I was still looking at him with a confused expression. I could feel my eyebrows pulling together.

"Okay" he nodded with a small smile, popping his helmet back on. He gave me one last look and then with a rev drove off.

Did he honestly think I was going to get on the back of a bike with someone I didn't know? I'd never ridden on the back of one anyway and honestly the idea of it scared me a bit.

I'm not convinced that a bit of leather and a plastic bowl for your head is going to do much if you hit the concrete.

The bizarre exchange happened so quickly I wasn't sure if it had actually happened. Perhaps he was genuinely trying to be nice, it did look like it was going to rain, but then maybe he wanted to talk to me about him and the librarian.

I had seen him flirt with her after all. Perhaps he wanted to make sure I didn't tell anyone. It might damage his reputation.

I chuckled then, I could just imagine the many faces of girls dropping when they found out their precious Teller flirted with someone older than his mother.

Everyone had seen him walking round town with a different girl every week, the girl usually scantily dressed with her tongue in his ear. Seriously some people have no shame.

I laughed then. I'm only seventeen but I guess I must sound at least forty.

I walked up my driveway to a welcomed silence. There was no clashes or bangs to be heard from the house so hopefully that meant my dad was either out, or too drunk to be awake.

Unlocking the door as quietly as I could, I was met with a sorry sight. The house was only small, so the front door opened right up into the living room. There, slumped over in the armchair was my dad.

He was obviously in a very deep sleep as he wasn't even snoring, but still, his grip around that half finished bottle of beer was an iron one.

The house was a mess. He'd managed to trash the place whilst I'd been in school. Great.

I cleaned up what I could, but I didn't want to get out the vacuum as that would wake him. And if he woke up now he'd be in a fierce mood, something I was just too tired for.

I don't think he ever really meant to trash the place, or get out of hand. But he couldn't control himself. He was tortured by too many demons and this was his way of silencing them.

I draped a blanket around him as he'd probably be there the night, and kissed his cheek.

Locking up the house I didn't even bother to fix myself dinner, I just went straight in the shower and then headed for bed. I think I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I woke to a loud bang. My eyes were groggy and it was still dark, but still another violent bang followed. Glass began to smash.

"Shit" I hissed.

Hurriedly I got dressed in some jeans and boots, and headed to the kitchen. I don't know how I didn't wake sooner.

There was glass and china everywhere.

Swaying, he stood throwing plate after plate at the wall. Sobbing harder with everyone that broke.

"Daddy?" I called. He didn't even respond with a look. He just kept throwing and throwing. I tried speaking louder. "Dad! Listen to me".

He turned to face me, his eyes swollen and blotchy from crying. There was beer dribbled on his chin and shirt as he stumbled toward me.

I couldn't really move anywhere, there was no where to go other than my room or the bathroom but by the time I thought of that he had grabbed hold of my arm.

"I-I'm so-so..sorry" he mumbled. He started crying harder then, his nose grazing mine as he apologised for something that he may have been reliving. He spat out mumbles and hisses, his grip getting harder on my upper arm all the while.

I tried to pull away, I know he didn't want to hurt me but I couldn't. He began to shake his head and talk about how I can't leave. But I needed to leave. "Dad you're hurting me get of-" I tried to yank my arm away but he pulled me back.

"Don't you dare" he snarled. His expression changing as if with a light switch. "You stay here". He bared his teeth like a dog, ready for the attack.

"Dad listen to me, you need to let go" I pleaded with a calm voice, trying my best to block out the pain. "Dad!"

And with that he finally let go. His hands rushing to his face apologetically.

"I did-didn't mean it angel! I did-

"I know, but go to bed please. I need to clean up the kitchen". He stood there shaking shamefully with how he had behaved, murmuring apology after apology. "Come on" I whispered, taking his hand gently in mine.

I led him to his room and sat him on the bed. He managed to kick off his own shoes and then lay back with eyes wide like a rabbits.

"It's okay" I cooed again and again as if to a child. "You didn't meant it I'll tidy up. Just sleep the alcohol off".

He nodded weakly in agreement and turned on his side away from me. His hand reaching out to my mothers side of the bed where we both knew she wouldn't be lying.

Episodes like this would have me in tears. But I was tougher now, I understood a lot more. Of course I knew not many other fathers behaved like this, and there were moments where he was dangerous, but they usually passed quickly.

I knew that he was genuinely sorry, but there was nothing I could do about it. I wouldn't turn my own father into the police. He was all I had.

Grudgingly I went into the kitchen, and began a nights worth of proper cleaning.