Manda's Note: Wow this took forever to get going didn't it? My apologies, it won't happen again. New Santana I... think I like her. I'll let you find out for yourselves. Those who this is for you know who you and and if I wasn't in the miiddle of a writing frenzy i'd write a better note but ...so much to do so little time. Read Enjoy Review...

Mackenzie – My roll I was on faltered didn't it :( think I have it back though. Not sure exactly where this is heading but working with it. hope you've got time to read

emenine – Fierce isn't it? ;) it'll continue to be… I swear. how could it not be with the two of them?

Melissa – very slowly coming together story. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

"You moved it… you had to have fucking moved it. I told you not to come in my room. I told you not to touch my shit. How could you move it?"

Jane Puckerman was exhausted, to say the least anyway. The beginning of November and her son's behavior only seemed to be getting worse rather than better. He was in more pain than she knew how to deal with and his lash out actions only kept getting him into trouble. She couldn't handle the constant freak outs anymore. She'd put him in therapy all summer and he'd sat there, a stone wall, claiming that he didn't need help. He'd been sent to juvie the month of October for continuing his spiteful actions outside of the house. it all made Jane wonder where she'd gone so wrong as a parent, where she'd failed him. She felt so helpless looking a him. In so many ways he was still that little boy had curled up close to her every night that her once abusive husband had been finished attaching his fist to her face. At the same time he was so far from her little man that she didn't know how or what to do to help him anymore.

"Noah, I haven't been in your bedroom. Don't you go accusing your sister of it either because you know that she won't do it either. Not after the last time you freaked out on her and please, could you please watch your mouth? You know how I feel about that language being used in this house."

Her voice was tired, worn, and broken. All she wanted was her son back, the little boy she'd raised and watched. The boy before the manipulating blonde had meddled in his life. Jane had known from the moment he'd sat her down and broken the news to her about his expectancies. She'd cried and he'd cried, he'd clung to her and apologized over and over again, that was the Noah Puckerman that she missed. That was the son that she'd raised. Not the angry adult throwing things around his bedroom on the hunt for a thumb sized hospital bracelet.

"I don't care what you want in this house ma …I just want my kid's fucking hospital bracelet."

Wincing again at his words she shook her head and looked up at the ceiling. What had she done to deserve such punishment. sighing to herself she sat down and put her head in her hands on the couch. This wasn't the way she'd ever planned for things to turn out. Her son was supposed to be so much more than the path he was heading down. Lingering on her thoughts and listening to him throw and push around things in his bedroom she'd almost missed the doorbell ring. Well at least he was home and she wasn't about to find out that he was being hauled off to juvie again. mentally crossing her fingers that it wasn't something that she'd have to have him hauled off for this time she walked through the dining room to the breeze way to open the door.

The Latina girl on the other side of the door was the type to scare any mother. With beautiful big brown eyes and a smile that could very easily go both ways from innocent to hell raiser. she studied the girl for a moment, waiting to see if she'd faultier or intact under her gaze. the girl never even faltered. She just smiled a half menacing smile and held the box in her hands tighter.

"If you're looking for Noah I can't promise you he's up for visitors right now"

Moving out of the way she let the teenage girl in anyway, shuttering when she noticed the cheerio coat. The last thing Noah needed was any of the cheerleaders further ruining his life. The girl walked further in the breezeway and put the box in her hands down. shaking her head she ran her hand through her hair for a moment and fixed her glasses out of what Jane could guess was nervous habit. Nerves seemed to be far from who the girl in front of her was though.

"Don't worry I'm not a friend of Quinn's"

With the clarification part of Jane wanted to reach out and hug the elusive Latina. If there was one thing Jane Puckerman knew for sure it was that her son didn't need any more reminders of what the selfish blonde had done to him. Her face evened out to a friendly smile at the girl.

"Mrs. … Puckerman …I um… I'm a …friend? of Puck's. My names Santana and I um… I have some stuff that could help… possibly."

Jane opened her mouth to protest, to inform the high school aged cheerleader that there wasn't anything that could help her son other than counseling and time. There wasn't anything that a box could do to get him out of the funk that he was in. bit the girl shaking her head and shoving her hands into her jacket pockets for some reason made her stop mid sentence.

"Trust me …my biological parents were sixteen year old idiots too"

Suddenly Jane shut her mouth, there was a new perspective on the girl she hadn't been expecting to see. Not the girl who's ears seemed to sparkle with real diamond studs and a gold chain around her neck. She'd expected an over privileged brat coming to seduce her son. Not someone who could very well have been the key to everything he was holding locked inside. Giving her a smile she nodded her head and pointed to the stairs.

"It's the second door on the right and please excuse the mess in there. He hasn't been himself lately."

Santana nodded her head like she knew that better than anything else. Jane didn't raise questions, she didn't want to know. the only thing she actually knew for sure was the fact that it seemed like she could be the key to getting her little boy back and for that Jane was more than willing to try almost anything.

"And Santana? …Thanks."