It was 9:00pm on a school night, well past Rachel's bed time and it made Santana nervous that her youngest sister still hadn't returned to their room. She and Quinn were used to their father's punishment "lectures", but all Rachel had done was spill the orange juice she was trying to pour. It was a complete accident that any eight year old could make and it did not at all constitute any form of punishment. Especially punishment by the hand of their father.

"Santana?"

Quinn's voice shook Santana from her thoughts. "You don't think he'll, you know, do anything to her right?"

Santana looked at her sister. Quinn was the product of a one night stand their mother had 14 years ago. Once Santana was old enough and curiosity got the best of her, Shelby explained to her that their father Leroy had just been "too much" one day, and that the director she was working with at the time offered to help her "relax". It was Shelby's only act of infidelity and she paid for it with the birth of a pale skinned, blonde haired, hazel eyed little girl. Leroy would tell friends and relatives that Quinn must have picked up all of the recessive genes he and Shelby carried. He, of course, knew better. That's when he first begin to hit Shelby. Her mother refused to go into anymore detail, but Santana didn't need to hear any more in that moment. At the time she was only twelve, Quinn just barely nine, and Rachel just three. He still beats Shelby almost daily, not caring if any of the girls are there to witness it. What makes Santana most angry is that their mother barely fights it anymore. She lets him hit her, and worse, she lets him hit their children. It made Santana loathe the mother she once loved so much. In almost every aspect, Shelby left her three daughters to fend for themselves. She loved them, but she seemed to love her bed and some alcohol slightly more.

Santana and Quinn made sure Leroy never laid a hand on Rachel. She was his favorite child and the least prone to be punished by him, but they would do anything in their power to allow the eight-year-old to keep her innocence for as long as possible. Deep down, Santana knew Leroy had been spiraling out of control for a long time. She knew he was bound to snap sooner or later if he hadn't already. She didn't think he would put a hand on Rachel, but truthfully, she had no idea. She wouldn't let Quinn know that.

"No. He won't. He's probably just talking to her," she said, hoping her face told a convincing story.

Whether or not she believed it, Santana didn't know, but Quinn seemed to accept the answer. She nodded her head and sat against the headboard of her bed, knees pulled up to her chest. Santana sighed. Ever since Quinn was a baby she was incredibly difficult to read. It was not easy to get inside of her head. Nonetheless, Santana was just as protective of Quinn as she was of Rachel, though she wouldn't make it obvious to her blonde sister. Rachel on the other hand was an open book. It was partly due to her young age and partly due to her natural personality. Santana thanked God for it. She could always sense Rachel's fear or anger or excitement.

At that moment, the door opened. Leroy held the door open, keeping one hand on the doorknob. He watched as Rachel climbed into her bed and gave a sweet "Night Daddy" to him.

"Goodnight my Princess," Leroy said. "Remember what we talked about."

Rachel nodded her head in understanding.

Santana watched as Leroy's head turned to face Quinn and Santana's direction. Their beds were side by side across from Rachel's in the tiny room the girls shared, made smaller by all three of the girls beds taking up a majority of the space.

"Santana," he said gruffly, "come with me."

Quinn's looked at him. "No! Please Dad it's a school night and it's already late enough..." she trailed off. Rachel looked on with wide eyes and tussled hair.

Santana looked at her sisters with a small smile and closed her eyes at the sound of her father's voice. "Santana, come with me," he repeated, completely ignoring that Quinn had said anything at all.

Santana knew better than to disobey her father. Refusing to cooperate with just about anything he wanted usually resulted in some form of physical abuse to either of the older girls or Shelby. There was no way in hell Santana was ever going to subject Quinn or even their mother to his abuse any more than they had to be. Santana squeezed Quinn's hand which was resting on her knee and got up to go with Leroy.

They walked down the small hallway of their New York City apartment and reached the door to Leroy and Shelby's room. Again, Leroy put his hand on the door but did not open it.

"Keep your mother company tonight, she doesn't feel well."

Santana glared at him. "Where are you going?"

"I have work," he stated simply. His face was cold. It had been cold for as long as Santana could remember, even in her childhood when things were slightly better.

"You work in real estate. There's no way in hell you're going to 'work'. Tell me where the fuck you're going."

Leroy grabbed her by the arm and pinned her against the wall. A photo of Leroy and Shelby's wedding photo shook on the wall from the force. "How dare you talk to me that way. I am your father," he spat. His voice was threateningly low. "Another word out of your mouth and your bastard sister gets more than a few solid punches. Got it?"

Santana looked him straight in the eye, her voice also low. "Don't touch her."

At her words, he grabbed fistful of her hair and pulled it down. She let out a grunt and attempted to fight him off.

"Santana?"

Shelby's voice was faintly heard coming from the other side of the door. Leroy roughly let go of Santana's hair and pinned her back against the wall. "Saved by the bell," he whispered into her ear. "Don't question me again. Keep your mother company."

With that he opened the door for Santana to enter. She did, and watched as he closed the door and listened as he headed for the front door and left the apartment. She let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding and turned to face her mother. She looked old. Much older than her years. Santana's heart broke in frustration. She loved her mother and had some wonderful memories with her, but for more than half of Santana's seventeen years she had been withdrawn and so far removed from what was happening in front of her eyes day in and day out.

"Come here, baby. Lay with me," Shelby said with half closed eyes, a smile, and outstretched arms.

Instead, Santana sat on the small chair in the corner of the room.

"Why don't we leave? Just take us and leave."

Shelby put her arms down and closed her eyes. Her smile still there but slowly disappearing.

"Oh, Santana. Don't be dramatic sweetheart. Your father can be strict but he loves you."

"Love? Is that what he tells you when he bangs your head into the wall five times in a row? When he punches you in the face in front of Quinn? Do you feel fucking loved when you have to pile on makeup just to go to the grocery store? That's not love Mom!"

"Santana-" Shelby began, but Santana's infamous rage was coming out strong.

"No! Shut up and listen to me! For once in your pathetic life, please just listen to me. He beats you. Every single day. In front of us! In front of Rachel! She's going to think it's fucking normal, Mom and it's not. It's not fucking normal! And you know what? Maybe you can live with him beating you. Maybe you get off on it. I don't know, but he hits us too Mom! Me and Quinn. I know you aren't as idiotic as you seem. He's hitting your children! Are you going to wait for him to start hitting Rachel before you finally fucking do something?! Please. I am literally begging you. You can make this right this time. Let's just go. He's not here, we can pack a few things and just go."

By this point she was out of breath and red in the face. She was so desperate to get through to her mother, for her to see that there could still be hope and that they didn't have to live this life in a too-small apartment with an abusive and evil man controlling their almost every move.

"Santana, enough of this. Sometimes parents resort to corporal punishment. I am not perfect and I deserve some of the things your father does to me. It's what grown couples do. Either way, that is none of your business. You girls can be a lot to handle sometimes, but he would never hurt you."

Santana gave a bitter laugh. "Whatever. Believe what you want. Believe that I'm a naive child if it's what lets you sleep at night. Why did he want me to stay with you?"

Shelby yawned, sleep overtaking her. Santana couldn't believe her body could actually be tired after what she just heard in the hallway and after listening to Santana scream at her. Then again, this was the infamous Shelby Corcoran-Lopez.

"Because he knows-" she yawned again, "he knows how happy my girls make me.."

And with that she was asleep. Santana rolled her eyes and made the conscious decision to go back to the room she shared with her sisters. She would go back to her parents room before Leroy came home, but she needed to clear her head for a minute.

When she got back to the room she found Rachel fast asleep and Quinn with earbuds in her ears listening to classical music, a habit she had gotten into when things whenever Leroy summoned Santana or their mother. Santana pulled the string of the ear closest to hear, making the earbud fall out of Quinn's ear. Her sister gasped in surprise.

"Santana!" she screamed.

"Shh," Santana said glancing at Rachel. "Sorry. You okay?"

Quinn took the other piece out of her ear and wrapped up the cord and put it in the drawer of her end table and nodded. "What did he want?"

"Not sure," Santana replied honestly.

"Well, why did you fight?"

"You heard?" Santana asked surprised. Quinn almost always put her music on immediately after Leroy exited with his current victim of violence. Quinn nodded again.

"I need to pay more attention," she said, her eyebrows furrowed in focus. "I tried to hear what he was saying but then I heard the thump against the wall and knew I must've missed something. I was going to come out but then he left and you didn't come back and I heard start yelling at Mom so I put music on to distract myself.." she trailed off embarrassed. "So are you gonna tell me?"

Santana sighed. Their lives were so fucked up. Her 14 year-old-sister listened at the door for any hint of why her so called 'father' would be beating on her sister this time.

"Quinn, you can't ever come out when that happens okay? You know it's never anything I can't handle. It's fine. If you ever interrupt it'll just make it worse."

Quinn's gaze faltered. "I make everything worse."

Santana sat on her own bed and faced Quinn.

"Would you stop with that crap? You make nothing worse. He's psychotic-" she was cut off by her sister.

"Let's just stop okay? We're gonna wake up the hobbit and I'm in no mood to lull her back to sleep. Go to bed, San. At least tomorrow is Monday," Quinn said and covered herself in blankets and turned over. In other words, Santana knew the conversation was over. Her blonde sister's stubbornness rivaled Santana's own and she knew it wasn't a battle worth fighting. She looked over at Rachel happy to see her still fast asleep. Monday, Quinn had said. Thank God. Monday meant school and the start of five days with at least eight consecutive hours away from the hell they called home. Their comfy little apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, the envy of so many, so perfect on the outside, was the misery of the family that inhabited it.

Santana sighed, not for the first time that night, and turned off the lamp on her end table. It was just another typical Sunday in the Lopez household, but the older she got, the more impatient she grew. She closed her eyes and prayed for sleep to overtake her, bringing her dreams of a happiness she could never find at home. 'Monday' she thought. 'School, Cheerios, Brittany's, and Leroy's late night at work. The thought of the peaceful hours away from her father tomorrow brought her comfort, as it did every Sunday night. She only hated that it was always over far too quickly.

Hello! This story was an idea that's been floating around for awhile in my mind. I wanted to finally get it written so that the creative juices could start flowing. This is probably the shortest any of my chapters will be. If there's any interest, I'd ideally like to post semi-regular updates. If not, this story will forever live in my computer alone! Let me know what you think by reviewing if you have time. Thank you!