Warning: This fic deals with many dark topics. There will be non-con, incest, physical and emotional abuse, neglect, rape, and self harm—in shocking detail. It will probably be prevalent in every chapter of this story. I WILL ONLY POST THIS WARNING ONCE. If any of these things trigger you, I suggest you skip this fic. I am not in any way promoting or endorsing the aforementioned abuses, nor am I making light of any of these situations. This is an very angsty fic. It may not end on a good note, it may not end in a way that many of you will agree with. It may not end at all. All I ask is that if you go on to read this fic, you keep in mind that it is not meant to offend anyone in particular. Please refrain from flaming or leaving non-constructive criticisms. If you do have anything to point out, or anything you think I should correct, feel free to pm me on .

Special Thanks:If you don't know who Brittanafan is, I suggest you hurry over to her page, tumblr, or live journal and find out. Through ongoing plot planning, endless nights on aim, and countless emails, she's helped me hone into my inner angst. She's all kind of awesome… I suggest you guys go check her page for some quality fiction. Without her prodding and reassurance, this little fic would have stayed in one of my notebooks forever.

Title: When the Children Cry

Rating: R, NC-18+, M

Author: JRease

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Well, except for this little laptop and a vision.

Summary: They all have things worth crying for. They are lonely in their worlds, unknowingly begging for a savior. Rachel, Quinn and Santana are rescued from their reasons by an unsuspecting hero. Dark!Fic. Please read warnings.

Notes: I have multiple chapters that have been typed already. I will update weekly as I reread and edit what I've written thus far. Reviews are welcomed and encouraged.

Timeline: The story begins in semi-current time. Fic is AU. Finn and Rachel are not together. I don't go by the Brittany canon: she doesn't have the little brother she mentioned in the Madonna episode. Brittany and Artie dated/had sex, but never got back together. Quinn's parent's never divorced. Sam never dates Santana.

Sunday: Present Day

She was running. Her heart was beating in her chest, thundering in the confines of her constricted ribcage. Her cross trainers thudded haphazardly against the concrete, and she could feel her adrenaline pumping blood into her ear drums. She knew the streets well, even this late at night; her route purposeful. She ran up the pastel driveway at the next left, brushing the shrubbery as she limped up to the front door; out of breath, scared. She ran through the living room, the dining room; the pantry. She heard yelling coming from the basement, and she followed the sound; the noise tingling her wits like dinner smells to her olfactory senses. She pads down the stairs, into the basement, stopping at the bottom of the staircase to slap her hands against the backs of her damp thighs.

"Brittany calm down I won't come near you just chill."

Rachel looked to Brittany, cowered in the corner, then back to Santana.

"Took you long enough."

Rachel ignored the dark haired Cheerio, turning her attention to the frightened blonde in front of her, noticing the bundles of blankets she had balled up in the crook of her elbow.

"Britt…Britt what's wrong?"

Brittany was rocking a baby doll, she had been crying- the dried tear streaks mocking on her porcelain skin. She noticed Rachel then, and she stood slowly from her crouching position. She put the baby doll down on an old crib next to the deep freezer she had been next to. She grabbed Rachel's face in her long hands, cupping her cheeks and touching their foreheads together.

"I'll never leave you Rach… I promise…I swear."

She was smiling this weird smile, her eyes blank, confusing. Rachel didn't know what to feel… she just shifted on her feet with Brittany, who was leaning down to meet Rachel's stare.

"Do you want to meet my baby, Rach? She's sleeping now…"

Rachel pulled away.

"It's just a baby doll, Britt, come on…let's go upstairs its cold down here."

Brittany brightened.

"No… look. She's tired. Her name is Adrianne. Isn't she gorgeous?"

Brittany pulled back the bundled blankets, and all Rachel could do was cup her mouth. The sounds coming out of Rachel's throat were quieted by the shock of the grotesque scene before her. The sweating corpse of a defrosting newborn lay bare in front of them; it's pale, translucent skin morbid against the dark blankets of the abandoned crib. Blue veins danced over the cloudy skin of a baby without breath, her eyes thankfully closed…her face somewhat neutral.

"Rachel is that a… is it?"

"Santana I think we should call the cops…"

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