A/N: I kinda hate fanfic sometimes. Because it totally messes up my documents. Like I try to insert lines inbetween stuff, and it just goes "whoa can't handle that!" then deletes it. Argh. Have any ideas how I can show switched POVs without lines? For now, I'll just put a +. If that even works.

Also, angsty chapter. Be warned!

Tina mouthed the words to the movie as the man on screen said them, "Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." She had watched the Princess Bride so many times it was kind of pathetic. Who was she kidding? She was the face of pure pathetic-ness. All she did was watch old movies and wallow in horrendous self pity.

It happened always at the end of the month. Usually she excused it away, pegging it on cramps and other feminine horrors. But the truth it, at the end of the month, her father went off to some place for a "business meeting" and her mother went out drinking with friends. She usually didn't come home until a day later.

She secretly wished she was old enough to just drink all day at the end of the month.

Twenty four long ass hours passed. Weekends were usually spent hanging out with friends and crashing out at chicks houses. But now, Puck just strummed his guitar, tuning here and there. He used to have a plan back in sophomore year. He would become a badass guitar player and Finn would become a kickass drummer. He would somehow get a bass player(every band has a bass player. It's just common knowledge) and then get like, a keyboard or something. Then they'd become famous. Bam. It was so perfect.

Then Finn started to not talk to him that much. Then they joined glee club and they never got to practice and shit. And now the Puckasarus was spending his Saturday afternoon doing nothing because it was snowing like crazy and he had zero plans. Even Santana was going to some show with Britt. He pretty much sucked ass right now. And he wanted a damn burrito, dammit.

He rummaged through the cabinets, seeing if he could find anything. Cheetos. He ripped open the bag. Empty. Fuck, he was going to have to go to the store.

"Ma! Going to the store!" He shouted. She woke up from her nap.

"Get the money from the wallet! And get some more cough drops for your sister, please!" she said. His mom's tired. She's got one of those jobs, where you wear long pencil skirts that don't show off your legs and your boss is a dick. She's overworked, and she doesn't let me forget it. Constantly complaining. He opens her wallet and pull out forty bucks.

Then he gets in his truck, revving up the old engine. Hears the dreadful sound. The sound that every truck driver knows: your truck is shit and broken.

He pulls the keys out of the ignition, and opens the car door, getting hit by a wave of falling snow. The wind is so strong that it's blowing sideways. But it'll only last five minutes, then it'll become powder again. Puck puts on his more sturdier boots, and starts to walk.

Tina decides that wallowing is a boring way to spend a Saturday. So she gets up, and heats up some water. She watches the microwave spin the water around and around. She often watches the microwave, sitting up on the counter, knees bunched up to her chin. Whenever her mother warns her about radiation, it makes her do it more. When the water's heated, she pours it in a cup along with a packet of hot cocoa powder. She opens up her spice cabinet(her mother also made her go through extensive cooking lessons to make her please a man) and pulls out a bottle of cinnamon. She takes a small whiff, and sprinkles a bit on. Stirs. She even considers putting in a little nutmeg, but she decided that this would be alright.

She pours it into her red thermos, and sets it on the counter. She puts on her black button up long sleeved, and black jeans. She puts on her combat boots again, because lacing them up feels normal. Then she goes outside into the snowy wonderland, hot cocoa in hand. Taking a sip, she walks.

You know it's a sucky day when you're still deciding which frozen burrito to get. The frozen aisle was starting to make his arms get goosebumps, and he just pulled out a random box, which completed his grocery list. He didn't forget the cough drops. The cashier regarded him as another douchebag who just ate frozen burritos. And he was. Puck gave him the money, with a grumbled "keep the change". He left the store with a plastic bag in his hand, dreading the walk back.

He was wrong, the snow did not clear up in the past fifteen minutes. It had gotten worse. The frost bit his cheeks. He moved his feet anyways, making his way down the streets. The rough part of Lima, Ohio, if you could believe there was one.

"Hey look guys, its Mr. Mohawk. The dude who think he's so tough," a voice from behind him says, loudly.

Shit.

"It is! Why don't we say hello?" another voice. A meaty hand grabs his shoulder, spinning him around. The snow is so thick that it's hard to see, but he can still recognize an attacker. Three of them. Each had a face you would expect thugs who had nothing better to do than harass people would. The "leader" had an ugly mutt face and big fat lips. Mutt face, he likes to call him. The other were Lazy Eye and Meat Knuckles. Clever, huh?

"Why hello there, Puckerman," Mutt face says.

"It's Puck," Puck says with a harsh growl.

"Who gives a shit?" Lazy Eye is begging to smash Puck to a bloody pulp.

"Look," Mutt face continues. "we told you, get your arrogant ass out of our neighborhood."

"Why? I'm walking home. There's no crime about that."

"Yeah, but there is a crime against smart asses talking like they own the world," Lazy Eye says. Meat Knuckles just stands there, arms crossed. Not speaking.

"Hey, what's the punishment again?" Mutt Face asks Lazy Eye.

"I know!" Meat Knuckles says, finally speaking. Then I get a fist to my face.

Tina doesn't know where exactly she's walking to. She doesn't even care about the harsh winds and weather. She's used to it. She enjoys walking in this kind of storm, though. Makes her feel tougher. Not just a silent girl who wears different outfits. Like one of those sharp girls in movies with tight clothing and high heeled boots. Making the men look weak.

She turned a corner, going onto the uphill stretch. It wasn't steep, though. Like a rampway. Steadily going up.

A flickering figure spotted the distance.

Four, actually.

And when Tina Cohen-Chang got a bit closer, she saw three guys snickering and walking away.

And then she saw Puck lying there in the snow, bleeding and shivering.

Time to be the hero again.

A/N2: Word count for this chapter: 1229. Awesome.