"Five-year-olds are too old to be wetting the bed. Grow up."

"Get out of here, you little spawn."

"Don't be a little bitch. You're too pretty for that."

"Tell Santana that if she doesn't get out here right now, I'll do worse to you than I did to her."

"You're lucky that I take such good care of you, Quinnie girl. I'm raising you out of the goodness of my heart. You owe me."

"Just relax. That feels nice, doesn't it? It's okay. There you go..."

"You're a good girl, Quinn. Oh, yeah so fucking good. Don't ever say I didn't give you the most - oh yeah - love in your life!"

"You fucking love it, that's right. Crying for me, you want it so bad. Take it.."

The hum of the smooth taxi had lulled Quinn into a far away daze. She was brought out of her storm of Leroy memories as her mother opened the cab door. The ride home was incredibly short, she knew, but it felt like she had been floating in memories for days. What time was it? Was it really only yesterday that she'd gone traipsing out in the snow? And had she really been at McKinley today? Everything suddenly felt topsy-turvy.

"Come on, honey. We're home," came Shelby's tired voice. Her mother was holding the door open and waiting for her to exit. Quinn stared blankly out the door. She knew she should get up, but she simply didn't have the desire. She didn't have the desire or energy to do anything but simply sit where she currently was. It was as if she were stone.

"Quinn," Shelby called again with an uncertain glance toward the driver that the young girl missed. "Quinn, let's go sweetheart. You can relax inside."

"Just relax. That feels nice, doesn't it? It's okay. There you go.."

The memory all but catapulted Quinn with newfound energy out of the car, through the lobby, and to the elevator doors. Somewhere, cutting through all the noise in her head, she heard her mother greet Joe with a nervous giggle and wave off Quinn's odd behavior. The doors opened just as Shelby reached her, and mother and daughter boarded the elevator. Silence fell over them. It felt awkward for Shelby. Quinn hardly realized there was another person there.

Upon entering the apartment, Shelby began removing her winterwear and Quinn took in her surroundings. She had grown up here and yet in this moment she felt like she didn't know this place at all. From what she knew about Heaven and Hell, she realized in the same moment, that the apartment in which she and her sisters called home carried many more characteristics of the latter. It made her queasy, but when she remembered how many times she had thrown up or dry heaved over the past two or so weeks, she willed the bile to stay put.

Shelby placed her hands on hips and looked at Quinn as though she were a science project she had to dissect. Quinn continued to stand just inside the apartment, jacket and Puck's red hat still on. Her arms hung at her side, eyes dull.

"I'm glad that you're back home," Shelby tried. She took a seat at the kitchen island facing her daughter. "I don't think it was the best decision to go back, but then again you always were so determined," she said with same nervous laughter she had given Joe downstairs. Quinn didn't react. Crap, Shelby thought. Was determined a word better suited for Santana? Definitely Rachel. Is that why Quinn didn't react to her ridiculous attempt at lightening the mood? If Santana were here, she'd know what to do, she thought regrettably. Okay, well she's not. You're an adult, Shelby, and she's your child. Figure it out.

Before giving her mother a chance to speak again, Quinn made for her bedroom. Her head was so filled, she felt as if her brain would start coming out of her ears if she thought of one more memory or felt one more emotion. She closed the bedroom door behind her, crawled into the closet, and put hear earbuds in. This time, she allowed Mozart's complex melodies to take her away. It was warm in the closet between the clothes that hung down on top of her and the jacket and hat she still wore, but she didn't notice. If she did, she'd figure if she survived extreme cold last night, she could deal with a little overheating today.

Her eyes were almost closing when she remembered what she had discovered yesterday. Santana's hidden liquor shoebox was in this closet. She thought she had learned her lesson yesterday after throwing up the foul tasting and smelling substance, but the small bottle had knocked her out into a dreamless sleep and she needed nothing more right now. She found the box easily in the corner. As she uncapped the miniature Grey Goose, the melody in her ears was beginning to crescendo. She downed the entire thing in two large gulps and put her head back against the wall. As she sat listening to Mozart's Requiem, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to empty its thoughts. No more smacks, no more bruises, no more sadness, no more anger, no more confusion, no more touching, no more sex. No more sex, no more sex, no more sex. No more dumping on Santana, no more guilt for what Rachel had seen, no more longing for her mother to long for her. She commanded herself to empty it all out.

She was well on her way to numbing herself in sleep before the playlist concluded, and her mother came searching.

The school day passed in a complete blur for Santana. Part of her felt she should have gone home with her mother and Quinn, but the other part wanted to stay in school to keep some trace of normalcy in her life. Plus, Quinn was practically zombie-like throughout their conversation in the choir room and Santana was sure her sister could use time alone to rest. It didn't stop her from checking her phone every four seconds for a text from Quinn in case she was needed.

As she made her way to her locker to fetch her coat before getting Rachel at school, her mind replayed Quinn's confession over and over. Santana would never forgive herself for not putting the signs together. She kicked her locker in anger for not questioning Rachel further when the young girl made her own confession. She had utterly failed to protect the two closest people in her life and now Quinn had paid for it. In fact, not only had she not put the signs together, but she was essentially the reason for Quinn getting molested in the first place. "I knew if it was you, you would have sucked it up and taken it."

"No, Quinn. No," she muttered to herself and gave the locker another kick. She made her way out the door and heard Brittany call out her name.

"Hey, Santana! Wait up!"

Santana slowed down, but kept walking. She was nervous Brittany would still hate her forever after everything she had stupidly said. Brittany caught up in no time.

"You bolted out of history so fast I didn't even see you leave."

With a side glace, afraid to my eye contact, Santana shrugged her apology. "Sorry. I just need to get Rachel."

"I know," said the blonde, keeping pace with Santana's stride. "If it's okay, I thought maybe I could come with you? I didn't get to see you after you went to Coach Sue's office with Quinn. You were amazing by the way."

Santana scoffed. "Britt, nothing was amazing. You weren't even in there." She ignored Brittany inquiry to come along. She knew she would anyway.

"You are amazing," Brittany emphasized again. "It would have been hours before anyone else got her up and talking, San. I don't have to have been there to know that."

Santana sighed. She wanted to confide in Brittany. She needed someone she could trust to help her verbalize and sort through her emotions. There was no better candidate than Brittany. She already knew everything, she was unfailingly kind, caring, and patient. She knew Brittany cared very much for both of her sisters,but Quinn would never forgive Santana for spilling her secret when she had explicitly begged her not to share. She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"I just don't really know what to do..."

She saw Brittany nod in her peripherals. "I know. Did she say what happened?"

"Just Cheerios being Cheerios. I don't know why she came back," Santana said. "She's scaring me," she finished quietly.

They got to a corner and halted, waiting for the light to change. The wind picked up and the cool air went right through Santana. Brittany spoke again.

"Yeah, I was pretty shocked when she showed up at our door this morning."

They were crossing the street and Santana nearly stopped right in the middle of it in shock. Brittany grabbed her arm and tugged her to keep moving.

"Yeah. She came and asked me to walk with her. I'm sorry," Brittany said as she realized what she was saying. "I never should have agreed. I should have made her go home. I tried to tell her but -"

"It's fine," Santana said abruptly. "She's Quinn. She just.. no one can really ever change her mind once it's set." She decided not to add and that's part of what scares me most.

"You can," Brittany said truthfully.

It was silent as the elementary school came slowly into view until Santana spoke again.

"Why did she go to your place, do you know?"

Brittany shrugged. "I don't know. She said she felt guilty and she made your life more difficult." Santana opened her mouth to retaliate, but Brittany spoke over her before she had the chance. "And I told her immediately that that's not true."

Santana shook her head. Quinn should not be the person carrying around any guilt. That part falls on her. She was now realizing she had years worth of guilt on her shoulders for the way her sisters suffered.

"Santana..." Brittany began. They were on the steps of the elementary school about to go in. Despite the warmth that awaited them inside, the conversation continued in the brisk cold. It felt more appropriate. "I mean.. are you okay?"

Santana knew Brittany had to know the answer was no. Of course not. But she was not the one that needed help right now. She would worry about herself later, if later ever came.

"Come on Britt, I'm freezing my ass off," Santana said, ignoring the question altogether, and holding the door open for her girlfriend. Well, her not-girlfriend.

Thankfully, Brittany let the conversation rest and they made their way to the main office where Mrs. Pierce sat behind the desk. They exchanged hello's and Santana was grateful that Mrs. Pierce didn't pry for answers about how she was or even ask how Quinn's day at school was. She would leave that job to Brittany. She heard Mrs. Pierce say something about play rehearsal wrapping up shortly, and distracted herself by looking at the accolades hung in the main office that she never bothered to look at when she actually attended the school or in the years since.

"You know, Rachel always tells me that in twenty years she's going to come back to this school and there will be plaque hanging in her honor for all of her Broadway accomplishments," Mrs. Pierce said sweetly, doing her best, as always, to keep the atmosphere light.

Santana indulged the kind woman. "Well,if anyone would have that, it would be Rachel."

She continued to peruse the accolades which then shifted to class photos of the graduating 6th grade class each year. She found her year and picked herself out, smiling softly. She had to admit she was a cute kid, but her eyes held a mature sadness behind them. She found Quinn's class from just a few years ago and her smile faded. Looking at the perfectly put together eleven-year-old Quinn made her angry. Not at the pretty young girl in the picture, but for what she knew that eleven-year-old went home to, and the horrors that would await her just a few years later.

She was grateful to be pulled away from the wall of memories by Rachel's voice.

"Hi Sanny," came Rachel's voice. The girl was smiling and her voice sounded happy, but it didn't have it's usual chipper quality.

"Hey midge," she said with one arm shoulder hug to her little sister. "Rehearsal good?"

The tiny brunette nodded with a smile. Both Lopez girls seemed distracted and ready to get on with the day. Santana gave Brittany an awkward 'bye' and 'thanks again' and promised Mrs. Pierce she'd give her mom and Quinn her best, even though Santana knew she'd really only relay the message to Quinn.

They hopped on the subway in a comfortable silence with intermittent small talk. Santana decided she owed it to Rachel to tell her that Quinn had tried to go back to school that morning and long story short, their mother ended up coming to take her home. Rachel nodded as she took in the story.

"Santana?"

"Hmm?"

Santana watched as her sister pulled on the strings of her hat trying to find the words she wanted to say. "Well... can you please tell me what happened?"

"Rachel-"

"Please!" she girl begged. "I went home with Brittany that day and I've behaved and I've listened to everyone and you were going to tell me what happened at Brittany's house and you said you wanted me there when you told her parents, but you never actually told me," she said in one breath. She looked up at Santana with large, irresistible eyes, desperate to be kept in the loop.

Santana was torn. She owed it to Rachel to explain everything that she didn't understand, but the other part of her wanted to protect Rachel from knowing that such cruelty could exist. Then again, her form of protection didn't seem to work anymore. Santana thought on it as the two got off the train.

"What do you say we grab some hot chocolate at Starbucks and chat for a few minutes?"

Rachel's eyes lit up and she smiled from ear to ear, happy to be taken seriously. "I say you're speaking my language!"

Santana led them to a Starbucks just one block away from their apartment. She hadn't heard from Quinn or her mother all day which was not entirely surprising on Quinn's part, but disappointing on Shelby's. There was still a very tiny, microscopic fraction of Santana that hoped her mother would get it together, but she wasn't willing to admit it.

Sitting at a table with two hot chocolates, Santana tried her best to be as open and honest and she could be with whatever Rachel wanted to know. She was struck by Rachel's compassion. Her sister always connected with people and had a gift for wanting to help, but most of her questions of the top were more about what she could do to help Quinn feel better and less about what she had gone through.

"That's actually a really hard question, Rachel," Santana admitted. "I don't think there's anything we can do except support her."

Rachel's brow furrowed. "You were yelling at her and had a big fight yesterday," she said with suspicion. "How is that supporting her?"

Santana sighed for the millionth time that day. "Well, no you're right. I think... I don't know. I think I've been getting frustrated about there not being something real I could do to help and I took it out on her. I mean, I was mad at her, but I don't think I need to fight with her, you're right," she said giving her sister a small smile. She only made that revelation as she spoke the words. She tried to file that away for next time she was angry at Quinn for doing something irrational. You're not really angry, you're just frustrated you can't fix things yourself.

"Santana..." the young girl's eyes were downcast, again trying to find the words to ask her next question. "What- what happened?"

Hoping her sister didn't mean what she thought, Santana took a long sip on her nearly empty hot chocolate to buy herself time. "What do you mean?"

Rachel shrugged. "I mean.. what were they doing? What was Dad doing to her?" Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper in the crowded Starbucks. "I just don't understand..."

Santana wasn't planning on having a heavy conversation with each of her sisters today, but again, God was a sick fucker who never let her rest. She wasn't sure how to begin. Rachel didn't even know what sex was, how was she supposed to explain it with all of its nuances on top of what her father had done? She prayed the words would come.

"I... Okay," she began. "I'm going to try and be really honest with you, Rachel, because I know you're not a baby, but... it's hard."

Rachel seemed to accept this and nodded her head in agreement, waiting for Santana to continue.

"So, you know that we all have like.. private parts.. right? And we're supposed to keep them to ourselves?" Santana wanted to die at the awkwardness of this conversation. She felt like she was giving the sex talk to Rachel. Which, she realized, she essentially was. Only Rachel was eight. And they were in a Starbucks.

Rachel nodded her understanding.

"Right, so.. boys have their own private parts too.. and when people become adults they..." she hesitated, not wanting to actually explain the act of intercourse and more just the importance of it. "Basically, it's okay to share your privates with someone when you're older. Like really, really, way, way older. A full adult."

"Like you?" Rachel asked honestly.

"Sure..." Santana answered. Images of Brittany danced in her head. "But really even I'm young. I'm talking like, real adult."

Rachel's faced screamed confusion, but she nodded and waited for more. Santana continued.

"So when you're an adult, it's okay to share those parts of yourself with another adult who you love and who loves you back. Do you understand?"

Rachel nodded slowly. "Is this like when people say 'a mom and a dad love each other very much, and they kiss a lot, and that's where babies come from?'"

Santana was caught completely off guard, but returned Rachel's nod. "Pretty much, yeah."

"So.. Dad and Quinn were... sharing their private parts?"

Santana gulped and felt the uncomfortable sweat return to her palms. "No," she said firmly. "Quinn is a kid just like you, Rachel. She didn't want anything like that to happen. Dad.. he took advantage of her. He did to Quinn what only adults in love are supposed to do, and it's not okay. That's why the police arrested him right there."

"He hurt her," Rachel said simply.

"Yeah. Really, really badly," Santana said, thinking of the mental and emotional trauma currently taking over her blonde sister.

"I know. I saw blood on her legs when the door opened," said Rachel, thinking of the physical trauma. "That's why I was crying."

"Yeah," Santana said. She wanted to get off the topic as quickly as possible, hoping Rachel was satisfied. "So, she's really scared right now, Rachel. She doesn't know who to trust or how to make herself feel better." Rachel looked deep in thought, but Santana continued. "What Dad did was really bad. Everything he's done to us has been bad, you know that. But this... this is a different level. So... do you understand? Will you tell me if he's ever done or said anything to you that didn't seem right?"

Rachel locked eyes with Santana and both could see yearning in the other.

"I promise he never tried to show me any of his stuff or whatever," the younger girl said sticking out her tongue. "Quinn will be okay, right?" She had asked the same question at the Pierces that first night.

"Yeah, she will. But, it might take a long time, so if she's mean or happy or sad or whatever, we need to just let her be. Can you do that?"

Rachel smiled and chugged down the last of her hot chocolate. "You betcha!" she said slamming down the cup. "Should we go home now?"

"Yeah lets do it," said Santana, tossing Rachel her hat.

When they walked through the front door it was, not surprisingly, quiet. Both Quinn and Shelby were both probably sulking in their respective bedrooms. Then, she heard it. A Quinn giggle. Quinn was hardly a giggler. She either tried not to laugh, or cackled, there was no in between. She did not giggle. To hear a trail of light giggles coming from her bedroom was the last thing Santana, and even Rachel, had expected to hear. Then, even stranger, another giggle joined in. It couldn't be, but it was. Their mother.

The two girls followed the sounds to their bedroom door and Santana pushed it open. She saw her mother's feet peeking out of their closet door. Her mother's giggles had died out and she saw feet move as Shelby scooted herself to the closet entrance.

"Girls! I was wondering where you were, it was getting a little late," the woman said. For the first time in awhile Santana didn't hear nerves or uncertainty in the woman's voice. It felt refreshing.

"We stopped for Starbucks!" Rachel said excitedly. She didn't know why her mom was sitting in the closet doorway, but she seemed happy and relaxed. That was all it took for Rachel to run over and wrap her arms around Shelby's neck. "Hi Quinnie," she said gently to the inside of the closet. Her blonde sister was out of Santana's view.

"Uhh.. what's going on?" Santana asked and slowly laid her coat and scarf on her bed.

Shelby was now standing walking toward Santana guiding Rachel in front of her. "Your sister seems to have.. had a moment of weakness earlier. I spent hours trying to coax her out to eat or talk or shower, but she wouldn't budge. I decided if she wasn't going to climb out, I would climb in."

Questioning remained in Santana's eyes. This whole situation was just odd. "Okay..." she said. "Quinn?" she called. Nothing.

"Now, Santana," Shelby said, voice changing to defense. "Don't be upset with you sister."

The eldest girl quirked an eyebrow, much in the way Quinn was famous for. "Why would I be angry with her, Mom?"

A giggle from the closet. It almost sounded like drunk laughter. Then, it dawned on Santana.

"Oh my God! Did you drink?! Again?" she she yelled outraged at the closet. She turned to her mother. "Did you let her? What is the matter with you?"

"Of course not, Santana! It wasn't until I crawled in there myself that I even noticed. Why.. why do you have mini bottles of alcohol stored in your closet?"

"Why, you want some for yourself, you crazy alcoholic?" She nearly ran her mother over as she made heavy steps toward her closet, ignoring Rachel sitting on her bed taking in the scene like it was a movie.

Santana knelt down and looked inside the closet, moving dresses and skirts out of her way, until she landed on Quinn laying horizontally on top of many pairs of shoes. "Don't be angry, San," said the girl with a smile.

Trying to remember the lesson she taught herself in Starbucks not lash out, she closed her eyes to steady herself an opened them again. Quinn looked flushed, weather from sitting in a closet for hours or alcohol, Santana couldn't be sure. Two empty Grey Goose bottles rolled by her feet. "Did you drink both of these?"

Quinn giggled. "Don't be mad, San. Mom isn't mad," she said as her defense. It was an awful defense.

"Yeah Quinn, that says just about nothing. Come on, sit up," she said reaching to help the younger girl sit up. Quinn resisted.

"No, no, no. I like it here. There's no feelings here and no sisters to boss me around. Goodbye!" she said drunkenly loud and tried to use a dress as a door and block Santana out. Santana grumbled and got up, rounding on her mother once more.

"What did you sit in there and have a happy hour? I am so angry right now, I don't even know what to do! How many times do I have to remind you that she's 14?!"

Shelby grabbed Rachel's hand and made for the door. "Santana, quiet. That is not what happened. Can we talk in the living room?"

Santana was outraged and she wanted to cry. She was in overdrive. She couldn't handle this day anymore. In a perfect world she could crawl up in her mother's lap and cry, but instead she was the one who had to parent her own parent. In anger and sadness, she stormed out and waited for her mother to join her in the living room. Shelby, still hand in hand with Rachel, sat opposite Santana on the couch.

"Do you get that Quinn is doing that because she's seen how you deal with things? She's seen you sleep away all of your problems, so now she thinks she can too."

Shelby was quiet. She knew Santana was right. "I-I'm not denying that Santana-"

"And you're okay with it?!"

"Of course n-"

"I hate you. How are we supposed to give you a shot? It's been like three days and you've let Quinn go back to school even though her mind is all fucked up, and now you're letting her drink away her problems. GOD!" she kicked the coffee table which now bore scuff marks as a reminder of the fight her parents had a mere week or so earlier.

"Sanny, stop!" Rachel said. "Let Mom talk, maybe..." Those irresistible eyes again. Santana looked at her mom, eyebrows raised, and folded her arms waiting for the woman to speak.

Shelby kept hold of Rachel's hand as she spoke to her eldest. "I told you before, Quinn ran into the closet when we got home and wouldn't come out. I tried every tactic I could. I-" she looked between both of her girls, "I wanted to try and bond with her. With all of you. She blocked me out. I'm sure you know, but I didn't realize you sister enjoy classical music so much." Santana scoffed and even Rachel rolled her eyes. "I-I tried to use that to bond with her, but she stayed put. I left her there awhile, napping or thinking or whatever she was doing..." the woman trailed off and Santana could sense she was hesitant to pick up again. "I don't think I went into the closet for so long because I knew you had that box Santana. In the past I.. I stole a bottle or two on a particularly tough day."

Santana let out a cynical laugh. "So you weren't brave enough to swallow your own demons to check on your kid? Wait til I tell Claire Huxtable or whatever her name is, that one!"

"At first, yes. You're right. I was so afraid I'd lose focus on Quinn, see the liquor and indulge myself. And I'll be totally honest with you, Santana, once I saw Quinn had already downed two bottles of vodka, it was extremely tempting to join her. It's not easy for a mother to see her child in that state. You like you keep reminding me, she's only 14. It-it broke my heart."

Rachel piped up and for the first time, maybe ever, Santana noted, she questioned her mother. "But.. you let her do it, Mom. That's not good."

Shelby ran a hand through Rachel's hair and gave her a sad smile. The Lopez ladies were great at sad smiles.

"You're right, honey it's not. But," she said changing focus to Santana, "it was the first time I could talk to her. I mean, she was out of it and we didn't talk about anything serious but... we talked. She even laughed. I... so.. I couldn't be angry."

If smoke could come out of Santana's ears, it would be. The three sat in silence. The thought of Quinn sleeping in a drunken stupor on top of shoes in the closet was enough to get her up and out of the room. She couldn't look at her mother right now. She thought the roller coaster of emotions was coming to an end for the day, but she should've known she'd never be that lucky.

She opened the closet door and sat against the wall opposite Quinn and stared at her until her own eyes began to droop closed in exhaustion.

Hello for the second time in three days! A new record! I had much of this chapter already written, and debated adding it to the last chapter, but I didn't want to disrupt the flow, and I thought anyone who is still reading deserved a surprise second update!

Please, if you can, review! They keep me motivated and the inspiration flowing. I love hearing what everyone thinks.

clj7- thank you so much for the review! I love the Quinn and Santana moments too. Things have been very heavy for them, but I promise we'll see glimpses of happy times soon too!

Spawn - thank you as always for you detailed review! I always love hearing your thoughts. Please keep them coming! Shelby SHOULD be hurting your head and your heart. She's got a lot to sort out.

KStoryteller - I hope you're staying safe as well, thank you! Santana's breakdown is imminent. She's about to boil over.