A/N: Thank you everyone for the reviews. They really mean a lot. I hope I answered your questions in this next chapter.

Yes, Shelby is Puck, San, and Rachel's biological mother and they have the same father.

A huge shout out to sdmwd1115 for helping me practically every step of the way with this. Hold on tight folks, it's a rocky, rocky ride ahead.

Thank you to my beta, threeltlbirds.

Chapter 3

Her mother had been scolding her for the better part of fifteen minutes. She hadn't heard much of it. She knew for the most part what was being said. Her behavior was inappropriate. She was out of line. Blah blah blah.

"Santana! Are you listening to me?"

She looked up to see her furious mother.

"Not really," Santana said honestly.

Shelby gave a heavy sigh. "I can understand that you're angry, but –''

"No mom, I don't think that you do," Santana sneered. "You knew and you didn't tell me."

"Would it have made a bigger difference, Santana?" she asked honestly. "You know her that might be true, but the fact that she is here in this situation don't you think that indicates that you don't know her?"

"I don't want to know her," she barked. She stood up and paced. "I don't want to know her like this! It's too much."

"Is it?" she asked. She stood and walked up to her. "Is she really what you're angry about?"

"Don't shrink me, Mom!" Santana said with frustration. "I'm mad that there is someone living in my house who is a mega bitch and you knew that I didn't like her. I'm mad because she's here. It's not rocket science."

"Santana, that's it. You need to calm down," Shelby said.

"No, Mom," Santana said as she began to lose it. She needed her mother to see her side. "Can't you see what this might do to Rachel?" She saw her mother frown. She had her hooked. "You brought an abused girl into the house." Santana didn't give herself an opportunity to hear her words. "This might screw everything up."

"Are you sure we're just talking about Rachel here, Santana?" her mother said gently, but seriously. "You're upset. I get that. You have a right to be mad, but I'm not making her leave. Please be the daughter I know and love, be mad, be angry but don't try to tell me that this is just about one thing." She sighed. "No computer, no phone, you're doing homework with Puck, no TV. You are grounded. Two more weeks."

Shelby grabbed her laptop and iPhone from the dresser. Santana sighed and frowned, but didn't look at her mother. "Whatever."

"Are you going to join us for dinner?" Shelby said as she started for the door.

"I would rather not," Santana muttered.

"Well, that's not really an option," Shelby said.

"Then why did you ask?" Santana shot.

"You are bouncing on my last nerve right now," Shelby said. "Straighten up and come down to dinner in five minutes."

"I'm not hungry. I lost my appetite," she sneered.

"I didn't say you have to eat. I said dinner is in 5 minutes," Shelby responded.

Santana frowned and her mother left her room.

…..

Quinn sat on her bed. She was shaking with indignant anger. Of all places she was at Santana Corcoran's house. Hadn't life kicked her enough? There was a faint knock on her door. She turned to see that it was ajar already.

"What!" she growled.

"Don't get your scrunchie in a knot," Puck said leaning against the doorframe.

She shot up and glared at him. "Don't for one second think that you had any effect on my scrunchie. You didn't. And don't get used to me being here, I'm out of here. You can have your little leave it to beaver lifestyle."

Puck frowned. "What?" he asked.

Quinn glared at him. "What the fuck is this? I don't want to bond with you. If you think that we're going to –''

"Shut up, Quinn, if I remember correctly not even two bottles of wine could get us to enjoy making out with each other. So I don't think your bitchness will turn me on. Don't flatter yourself," he snapped. He stepped closer to her and closed the door. "You know nothing about us. So I suggest you pack it in. I get it okay?" He said the last thing more quietly.

"No, you don't. You couldn't possibly know," Quinn glared.

"You'd be surprised if you pull your head out of your ass," he replied.

"Get out of my room," she snapped.

"I thought you said you were leaving. So isn't it my room?" he asked cheekily. He stopped at the door. "We're better than the group home. Trust me."

"Doubt it," she mumbled.

She stared at the window. How the hell was she going to get out of this? She didn't want to be with the perfect Corcoran family. They moved here six years ago. They live in one of the biggest houses in the entire town. They were some kinda of New York City royalty. Puck drove a Mustang. Why on earth was she here? Why was she in this problem at all?

…..

Dinner had been sullen. Rachel sat there quietly watching her sister seethe, her mother contemplate and her brother drift aimlessly in and out of a conversation with her. She didn't even want to know what was happening in his head.

"Are we done here?" Santana asked from her sulking position as she sat slouched in the chair.

Shelby turned to Rachel. "You may be excused. You can do your homework in your room." She turned to her two older children. "Santana, it's your turn to clean up. Noah, grab your work."

"I can't concentrate," Santana said with a shake of her head.

"Do I look like I was suggesting that?" Shelby asked. "Get to work please."

Fuckity Fuck Fuck Fuck! Santana was more furious that she couldn't grin and bear this. She could handle a loser. But not her. Anyone but her. She cleaned up the dishes and loaded the dishwasher. This was absurd. What did it all mean? She needed to clear her head. She needed to sort things out. She turned next to her and saw that her brother was pretending to read his history textbook but was drawing in the margins.

"Noah," Shelby said from the kitchen computer. "I expect to see those chapter review questions by the end of the evening."

Santana sneered at her brother. She told him when they were younger that she had eyes in the back of her head. Still true.

"Santana, you're not fooling anyone," Shelby said still not looking up at her two eldest. "Please at least pretend to read."

She huffed and sunk deeper into her chair. She grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled discretely "give me your phone." "No," her brother wrote back. "Give me your phone or I will tell Mom where your porn stash is."

Puck sighed and nodded. His eyes told her that she would get it once their mother left to put Rachel to bed.

Speaking of the devil, Santana spotted the tiny brunette wander into the room.

"Hey, bug. All done?"

"No," she muttered. "Just taking a break."

Santana narrowed her eyes as she watched her sister open the refrigerator and grab a bottle of water and an apple. "You just ate, bug," she said from the table.

"Leave her alone," Puck interjected. "You know that she eats like a five year old and basically snacks through the day. Lay off."

"Someday, you'll go through puberty, babe," Santana said with a squint of her eyes and tilt of her head.

Rachel's size had always been a sore subject. She had been born two months early and in combination with her father Leroy's very short mother, she was told she wouldn't grow to be more than five feet. When your sister was five-five and your brother was six feet, you didn't really have a prayer. She was always babied and her size didn't sway in her favor. "Shut up, hippo!" she shot back at Santana.

"Hey!" Shelby interjected. "Rachel Corcoran! We do not attack each other's size and weight. Santana, please knock it off! Do not give her a hard time because she's slightly smaller than you."

"Slightly, Mom? She can fit in my pocket," Santana scoffed.

"Santana!"

"Only because your pants are fat pants!" Rachel yelled back.

"Girls, I mean it!"

Rachel looked at her mother. "Sorry," she muttered.

"Don't apologize to me," Shelby corrected.

"I'm sorry that I called you a lard butt," Rachel muttered loud enough for Santana to hear but hoping that it wasn't loud enough for her mother to hear.

Santana shook her head. She's eleven. She's eleven. She repeated in her head. She watched as the small brunette headed back up the back stairs.

"Rachel," Shelby called out without looking up from her computer. "Apologize to your sister again please. And Rachel, you know that you cannot eat in your room."

She stopped mid step. "I know I changed my mind. I put the apple back." She turned to Santana. "I'm sorry."

As she headed up the stairs she heard Santana ask, "Why doesn't she have to do homework down here?"

"Did she punch someone in the face? Was she incredibly rude to a houseguest in front of a colleague of mine? Would you like me to continue?" Shelby asked.

"No," Santana recoiled.

…

Rachel climbed the stairs and walked quietly down the hallway. She saw that the guest room door was slightly ajar. She gave a soft knock and went in.

"What?" the older girl growled.

"Hi," Rachel said and without hesitation sat on the bed.

Quinn scowled at her. "What do you want?" she asked with annoyance.

Her frown faded slightly when Rachel held out a bottle of water and an apple. "I would have grabbed you more, but my sister was watching. Plus I barely got it past my mom." Quinn stared at the two objects. "Aren't you hungry?" Rachel asked.

"No," she muttered and turned away.

"Liar." Rachel grinned. "I can get you more later, but I have to wait until they finish their homework."

"Why do you have to do homework downstairs?" Quinn asked grabbing the apple.

"You're welcome," Rachel frowned. "Because that's the rule. When you're in trouble, you have to spend more time with my mom. Alone time is a privilege."

"Great," the blonde muttered. She took a bite of her apple and examined Rachel's appearance. She looked like her mother and had a spark in her eyes that she had seen in both Puck and Santana. "How old are you? Nine? I've seen you at practices a lot."

Rachel stared at her indignantly. "I'm eleven years old. Thank you very much."

"Excuse me," Quinn replied with a shake of her head.

"I'm sorry my sister was such a witch to you," she said quietly. "She's like that a lot, but if you get to know her she's not that terrible."

"Oh, don't worry, I know her," the blond said with a glare.

"I really don't think you do," Rachel whispered.

"What do you know?" she barked.

"Well, I've known her my whole life. I'd say that I know her best. At least better than you!" she argued with equal passion.

"Whatever," she mumbled and took a bite of the apple.

"I'm glad you're here though," Rachel said sitting up taller on the bed.

"Well, that makes one person," she snapped.

"You don't have to be so angry. I understand that you are though. Noah and Santana were," Rachel informed her.

"Noah?" she gave a smile and arched her eyebrow.

"He likes to be called Puck at school. When we lived in New York, he played hockey and they started calling him Puck because he hit it so hard. He was their number one scorer. Santana called him "balls" for a bit because she thought his logic behind his nickname was ridiculous."

Quinn tried not to smirk. "Yeah, sounds it."

Rachel kneaded her bottom lip in between her teeth. "We're not that bad if you give us a chance. I won't even talk to you about veganism for at least two weeks."

"I don't think I'll last that long here," she replied.

"Why not?" she asked shifting on the bed.

"Because my mom's going to get me," she said with a matter-of-fact tone.

She studied her face carefully before she finally could form her words. "I thought your mom hurt you," Rachel said.

Quinn narrowed her eyes. She glared at the girl trying to look in her eyes to see what the girl knew. "No, she just... She just drinks a lot. She'll stop so that I can come home and then I'll be home."

"I don't think it works like that," Rachel said carefully.

"What do you know?"

"Like I said, more than you think," she replied as she looked at her hands.

Quinn shook her head and stood up. She had had enough of this. Having an eleven-year-old midget tell her what was going to happen pushed her over the edge. "Well, I'm out of here."

"Where are you going exactly?" Rachel said with a frown.

"Anywhere but here," she grumbled as she started for the window.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the young girl said tentatively as Quinn reached for the window. "I'm serious. I wouldn't do that," she said again as Quinn gripped onto the latch.

"And why not?" she asked. Quinn pulled the latch to open.

The alarm sounded. Quinn' eyes bulged. "That's why," Rachel said as she put her hands over her ears.

…..

"What the hell is that?" Santana asked bolting from her seat and rushing up the stairs. "Rachel!"

"San?" Rachel yelled over the beeping noises.

Santana spotted her sister at the top of the back stairwell with her hands over her ears. She marched into the guest bedroom and saw Quinn desperately trying to close the window.

"You're an idiot!" she shouted.

She reached past the girl and slammed the window shut. Once it was closed, Rachel ran down the stairs yelling at her mom that it was closed. Santana glared at Quinn with folded arms. Neither one of them broke their gaze until the alarm finally stopped. She could hear the steps of Shelby coming up the stairs.

"Didn't believe me, Quinn?" Shelby asked.

Quinn snapped out of her glaring contest with Santana. "Is this jail? Because it sure as hell feels like it!"

"Language," Shelby corrected. "Santana, take Rach to bed please."

"I can put myself to bed," Rachel protested.

"Sure you can," Santana said as she shot Quinn one last glare before she led Rachel down the hallway.

"Quinn, did you not hear me before?"

"This is ridiculous! This is jail!" Quinn said again.

"Or maybe it's a place that encourages the use of doors instead of second story windows," she replied folding her arms.

"Maybe you should reconsider why your children are trying to sneak out of second story windows!" Quinn barked back.

"Get ready for bed, Quinn," Shelby said. "Remember having your own room is a privilege. Either straighten up or you're moving in with Santana. And I'm serious about that.

"I'm not staying here for long, you know!" she called after her angrily.

Shelby turned with her hands on her hips. "Is that what you think?"

"I know," Quinn said folding her arms. "This is just temporary."

"We're going to talk about this in the morning," she said gently turning away from the girl.

"No, damn it! We're going to talk about it now. You don't know anything about me!"

The older woman put her hands on her hips. "You want to test that theory?"

Quinn's face faltered a little.

"It's late," she replied. "Go to bed."

"I'm not sleeping here!" Quinn yelled as Shelby walked out of the room.

She huffed and collapsed on the bed. She wasn't going to admit how exhausted she was using all of the energy.

"Spas-tastic," Santana called from the doorframe. Her arms were folded and she had her patented scowl. "Don't talk to my sister."

"She talked to me, McTits," Quinn said as she settled inches away from Santana's face. "I may be in your house, but remember I'm Captain. And you are OFFICIALLY on the bottom. Get ready."

Santana shook her head. "You fu—''

"Room now!" Shelby barked from the top of the stairs.

She looked at the blond and then back in the direction of her mother.

"I don't care what happened to you. All I care about is you getting the fuck out of my house," Santana whispered close to Quinn's ear.

"Don't worry. I'll be out of here!" she hissed.

Quinn watched her leave. She sat quietly on the bed and heard everyone go to bed for the night. There was something about being in other people's houses that hurt. Mainly because you knew it wasn't yours.

…..

She slammed the door behind her. What had happened? Quinn Fabray was down the hallway. What? She heard something beep in her pocket and suddenly remembered that she had bribed the phone from her brother. She had one lifeline left.

She dialed the familiar number.

"Britt? I need to talk to you," Santana said quietly going into the closet to muffle her call.

After explaining the whole situation, there was silence on the other end.

"So she's living with you?" Brittany asked again.

"Yes," Santana said with a heavy sigh.

There was a long silence on the other end. "You know I'm always on your side, S." Brittany took a deep breath. "And you're undoubtedly my best friend.—'''

"Of course, I am," Santana grinned with a shrug over the phone.

"But you and Quinn are more stubborn than those goats who lock horns on the top of the mountains," Brittany said.

"What?"

"You just keep fighting and fighting until you're both tangled up," she said quietly. "Maybe you should give her a chance."

"Not a chance in hell, Britts!" Santana yelled trying to muffled her anger into the phone. "She can't move into my house, into my life. I can't have that."

"How long have we been friends?" Brittany asked. There was a change in her tone.

"Forever?" Santana said. "Okay, since I moved here."

"And how much have you shared with me?"

Santana paused. She hadn't shared a lot with Brittany. She just shared enough to know that there was something there. Something that Santana didn't want to say.

"Exactly," Brittany said to the silence. "You're not mad at her. You're freaked out because you might have to be vulnerable."

Wait, Santana thought. How did this happen? How did this conversation suddenly turn on her?

"That's not true," she hissed.

"San, I've know her a long time, and not once was she ever allowed to host any of the sleepovers. Her parents have never been to the games or the competitions. There's something going on there."

She thought about her friend's words. No, she shook her head. She wasn't going to feel bad for her. It wasn't going to happen.

"No way, Britt. I don't –''

Suddenly, the door to her closet opened.

"Are you kidding me?" Shelby asked with her hands on her hips.

"I gotta go, Britt. Mom-zilla, just made an appearance."

"Tell her I say hello!" Santana heard Brittany say as her mother tore the phone away from her.

"Good night, Brittany," Shelby said into the phone and hung up. "You my dear, have now accumulated a month of grounding. Bed now!"

…..

The house was silent. Rachel continued to go over scenarios in her head as she watched the fan circle above her. She was trying to figure out the girl down the hallway. Her memories weren't as vivid as her siblings'. However, she remembered that people were scared, even if they never admitted it.

She heard a soft knock on her door. It had been an hour since the house's chaos settled. Her mother and sister stopped screaming. She grabbed a book on her nightstand so that it looked as if she was previously doing something.

"Yeah?" she called out setting the book open in her lap.

"Hey pumpkin," her mother said coming over and sitting down on the edge of her bed. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine," she said carefully. "Why?"

"A lot of things have happened this evening," Shelby said carefully.

"You're not going to ask me about my feelings are you?" Rachel asked with a slight frown.

"Actually, I am bug," Shelby said moving a stray piece of Rachel's hair off of her face. She searched the girl's eyes for an answer. "Did you take your inhaler after the alarm went off?"

Rachel looked away and played with the edges of the pages of her books.

"Rachel," Shelby said with a shake of her head. "Sit up and take a deep breath for me please."

"Mom," she protested.

"I'm serious," Shelby said.

Rachel sat up reluctantly. Shelby leaned closely to her youngest daughter to hear her breathe deeply.

"You sound okay, but I asked you before when the alarm went off to take it," she said sitting back up.

Rachel settled back into her bed. "I hate taking that thing. I don't like it."

"I don't care. I love a daughter who can breathe," she said with a smirk.

"You wouldn't love me if I couldn't?" she asked with a slight grin.

"Don't be a cheeky bugger, bug," Shelby said kissing the top of her head. "I love you so much."

"I love you most," Rachel said with a grin. Shelby winked at her daughter and headed out of the room. "Hey, Mom? Will she be okay?"

"Which one?" Shelby asked with a sigh.

"Both of them," she replied after a moment.

"I think so. They're just really mad right now."

She watched as her eleven year old daughter thought carefully for a few moments. She knew that look. The girl was constructing her words carefully.

"We need to be patient like we were before. San and Noah got better. The anger melted away." They were less than sentences and more hopeful statements.

"Absolutely. Good night," Shelby said closing the door.

Rachel took a deep breath and settled into her bed. She didn't remember much about when she moved away from the shelter before, but she remembered one thing. When she was back in her mother's arms again she felt safe. She hoped that Quinn would feel that too. She didn't have her brother and sister's memories of what it was like before their father, Leroy, remarried to Hiram. She didn't have the memory of what it was like when it was just her, San, Noah, Mom, and Dad. She didn't remember that.

She did remember her father. Vaguely, but she remembered him. He had been her only entertainment. He stayed home with her. It was only supposed to be until she was ready for preschool. However, he never saw that. Hiram lost his job and everything seemed to crumble after that. However, when you're barely three years old, you don't realize how badly things crumble until you're on the other side. Her happy moments were the transition back to Shelby after it had all happened. She remembered once telling Santana that. That was one of the few times that Rachel had seen her cry. She didn't intent for what she said to be sad or cause sympathy. It had just been a statement. How were you supposed to miss something you never had? Her eyes began to get heavier. They were almost closed when there was a knock at the door.

"Hey, are you asleep?" Puck asked coming into the room.

"No," Rachel mumbled rolling on her side to look at her brother. "What's up?"

"I just….. If ... "

She watched as her big brother dug way into the back of his brain for his words.

"If either one of those girls give you a hard time, you tell me, alright?"

She frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"They're both pissed. If they give you a hard time you let me know." He sighed. "Did that alarm scare you earlier?"

"Seriously, Noah. I'm not five years old," she said with a frown that looked very similar to Santana's.

He gave her a smirk. "Yes, you are. You'll always be my baby sister. Always."

…..

Shelby emerged from the hallway and saw that Quinn had finally forfeited and changed into some sort of sleepwear.

"You're not going to sit in here and watch me sleep are you? Because that's a whole new level of creepy," Quinn said as she crawled under the covers.

"Do I need to watch you all night? Your behavior hasn't demonstrated that you do well alone," she countered.

Quinn scowled.

Shelby thought she would take a dive. "Did you have a bedtime routine at home with your parents?"

She watched as a wall that the girl had been holding up crumbled completely. Quinn bit of her lip and rebuilt the wall almost immediately.

"No, I didn't," she said quietly. She looked down at the sheets.

"Well, I'll let you go to sleep. I'll wake you up in the morning. I might come in and check on you in the middle of the night. I do that for the other three too. I won't wake you up, but in case I do." Shelby watched carefully as the girl nodded and turned over in bed. "Well, then. See you tomorrow, Quinn. I'm glad you're here."

Shelby turned off the lights and walked out of the room leaving the door slightly ajar. She watched the girl for a moment in the hallway. The blonde tossed in her bed trying to get comfortable. She watched as the girl peaked over her shoulder to make sure she was out of sight and crept quietly out of bed and dug around silently in her duffle. Finally, she pulled out what Shelby guessed to be an old stuffed white lamb. Noticing how much more relaxed she was, Shelby felt a sense of relief as the angry girl settled into the bed. She walked down the hallway and out of sight.

….

Santana tossed in the darkness of her room. She glanced at her clock. It was one in the morning. She hadn't slept a bit. She was too angry. She was seething. She was so mad she was shaking. She could feel her rage building to an uncontrollable level. She needed to settle. She needed to calm. She remembered all of those stupid breathing exercises that her mother and her therapist tried to reinforce into her daily routine. However, one thing worked. One thing only.

She crept across the hallway to her sister's room. She saw her curled up like she always was. The side lamp was on. She gave a small sigh. She knew that Rachel wouldn't say a word to anyone, but the alarm freaked her out. It was loud and abrupt and aggressive. She leaned close to her tiny body and immediately felt herself relax.

"San?"

She heard the girl mumble.

"Yeah, bug, it's me. Go back to sleep."

Santana watched as Rachel's tired eyes turned and looked at her.

"I'm glad I have you," she mumbled as she snuggled into her sister's arms.

Santana released a chuckle. "I'm glad I have you too."

She closed her eyes and let her body relax. She felt Rachel stir in her arms again. "Rach, go to sleep."

She propped open one eye to see that Rachel had both of hers open and was thinking hard.

"Hold on, there's something I need to do," the younger girl muttered as she sat up and crawled out of bed. "Don't move," she instructed.

Santana won't. "Don't worry. I won't."

…

Around one o'clock, Shelby crept out of bed to check on the children. Traditionally she was a night owl. At the height of her career in New York that was the only way she functioned. She poked her head into her son's room. He was sprawled out in his bed face down drooling into his pillow. She shook her head. What a stud.

She opened Quinn's door next and saw that the bed was empty. She was about to go into panic mode when she saw a small body curled up in the far corner of the room. Quinn had dragged her pillow out of the bed and pulled the comforter of and was now out like a light on the floor in the corner of the room. Shelby walked over to the far side of the room near the adjoining bathroom with Santana so she could see the girl better. She saw that the angry blond now looked slightly peaceful in her sleep. She wanted to know what was wrong with the bed. However, she suspected the reason. She reached behind her and was about to turn on the bathroom light, when she heard the familiar pitter-patter of footsteps.

She hid herself quietly in the bathroom as she watched her youngest daughter tiptoe into the room. She watched Rachel sneakily from the bathroom as the girl looked at the bed with a perplexed look. The moonlight that shone through the window etched her confused brow. Her brow calmed when she saw Quinn curled in the corner. Rachel walked carefully over to her. Shelby poked her head out and watched with curiosity as Rachel set her stuffed monkey next to Quinn's sleeping form. She felt something clench in her chest with pride and heartache as her youngest daughter kissed the stuffed monkey with innocent tenderness and tiptoed out of the room.

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