A/N: Thank you for all of the love! Love ya back! This was still part of the end of Jump...so triggers still apply.

Ain't It Fun (Paramore)

Brittany's POV

People always said that I was spoiled and immature as a teenager and I completely agreed.

My parents spoiled me rotten but I still think that I was always a good person.

Some people may not agree but that's why God created opinions.

My husband...with the exception of his sister, is one of five boys.

All of them are spoiled and can do no wrong.

His mother lived in Greece but it was no different than if she was next door.

She had always been a third in my marriage.

But she kept her distance.

As long as I didn't scandalize the Castellanos name she left me alone.

But when I came back from California, after living with my ex-girlfriend and a second time in rehab, she decided to make it her mission to see me fail.

She never thought that I was good enough.

Her opinion.

Derek though, started to agree with her.

Why wouldn't he?

A mama's boy like him would never question her motives.

But I was his wife and a damn good one.

Sure I had fucked up and became a drunk but I was different now.

I tried to be like his mom.

Tried to think like her and let him rule over me.

Because I knew that would please them.

But I was stupid.

I lost myself in the process.

Even still, I wanted to prove myself to him.

So, he made rules and I followed them.

She called me everyday to make sure that I wasn't drunk and I didn't complain.

Then she started questioning my relationship with Santana and so I got pregnant with Zack.

That satisfied her.

Things were good.

She felt convinced that I had finally met her standards, at least that was until I gave birth.

Derek had flown her from Greece so that she could help take care of Nicky while I took care of Zack.

But then things got hard when she saw my son.

His big blue eyes were nothing like Derek's dark eyes and his blond curls, which I thought made him look like a baby angel, were nothing like Derek's straight black hair.

That's when the trouble started.

His mom told him that she didn't think Zack was his.

All he needed was that little bit of doubt.

He started to pick apart everything that I did.

And when his mom left, he began to yell at me more.

And God forbid Santana or Quinn called, I heard about it for weeks.

But I stood by the fact that I was a good wife, a great mom and I was still sober.

And when the paternity test came back and he saw that he WAS Zack's dad that still didn't change things back to how they were.

The damage had been done.

But I stayed.

For two more years!

Stupid me.

I have never been a night owl.

Mornings have always been my best time of the day.

No mistakes...no fuck ups.

But as I have gotten older and have become a wife and mother...I have come to really like the night-time.

The darkness.

And so when Derek decided to move us away from the city, my only requirement was a big porch and a swing.

Those were still the good days, when I was newly sober and we were in love again.

The days before fights and cheating.

Derek had moved us to the Hamptons...right off the beach as a distraction.

He knew that as long as I was on that porch,

On that swing,

I wouldn't be showing up in Manhattan to interrupt him and his whores.

He thought that I was stupid but I didn't care.

My kids were healthy and I wasn't drinking.

He worked all the time and I didn't work at all,

So I settled.

But then time passed.

And I was starting to see the differences in my family compared to everyone else's.

The other wives knew that their husbands were dicking around but so were they.

But that wasn't who I was.

I wanted a real family.

If I couldn't dance, couldn't party...couldn't have the girl who got away...

Then I at least wanted my kids to have two loving parents like I did.

I was delusional back then...

But not anymore...

I was nearly at the end of my rope...

And yet I still held on.

Hoping for a reason to stay.

Instead...I was given a good reason to leave.

After years of occasional punches, it was Derek that fucked up.

That whole week he was coming home drunk and smelling like sex.

And that night, I had decided to confront him about it.

I couldn't take it anymore.

He needed to change or I was leaving.

That's what I told myself as I sat on the porch...waiting...for hours.

I took a deep breath and rubbed at my growing stomach.

Four months, just showing and I was already over being pregnant.

How we had even managed to get pregnant in the first place was something that confused me.

He was rarely here and when he was we were fighting.

I guess it just happened at some point...

With or without my permission.

But he didn't hurt the kids and really, that's all that mattered to me.

"Mommy?"

I closed my eyes and rocked on the porch swing.

"Yes, Nicky?" I whispered with a sore throat and a choked up voice.

"When is Papa coming home?"

Who knew?

I turned towards the screen door and saw my son standing there in his pajamas.

He was seven years old now and much more aware of what was going on around him...

Which definitely worried me.

I sighed and patted the swing next to me.

"Do you want come sit with me?"

He smiled and I couldn't help but smile back when I saw his missing front teeth.

Even when it was this late at night and I was hurting in too many ways, my kids always managed to keep me going.

Keep me from running away.

Nicky climbed up onto the swing and then curled against my side with a small sigh.

It was a pure moment.

A moment that wouldn't last long.

A moment that would change everything.

In the next second, I heard a car door slam and then grunts.

Nicky looked up at me wide eyed and then put his hand on top of my stomach.

"Mommy?" He whimpered.

I rubbed his head and pulled him closer to me.

"Shh...it's alright."

Derek stumbled up the steps and snarled when he looked at us.

Nicky was shivering and it made me super mad that Derek had that effect on him.

"What's he doing up?" Derek grunted.

"He was waiting for you." I said as I continued to rub soothing circles on my son's back.

"After I told him to go to bed?"

"Derek...please...go lay down. Zack is sleeping and you are drunk."

"Shut up, Brittany!"

He began to fiddle with his belt and I stood to my feet.

Attempting to block my son.

Derek had been threatening for weeks that Nicky was stubborn (like him) and spoiled (again, like him) and that he was going to teach him a lesson.

But I wasn't going to let that happen.

He was even madder as he continued to take off his belt.

Nicky was whimpering behind me.

"You are too drunk to think straight...go to bed, Derek...please?"

"You are calling me a drunk? Who do you think you are?"

"Derek...please? Nicky doesn't need to see you like this."

"Then he should be in his fucking bed like I told him to be! You baby these boys too fucking much, Brittany! That stops now!"

Derek raised his belt in the air and then it went whipping down.

I shielded my stomach, while still attempting to block Nicky.

But then I felt his little body being pulled away from me and then my son cried out.

"No, Papa, I'm sorry!" He screamed as Derek continued to bring the belt down on his back and his legs over and over again. "Please! Stop!"

"Derek! Stop!"

I tried stepping in but Derek lifted Nicky off the ground by his arm and turned from me.

"Papa please? No! Mommy!" He screamed.

It was the last straw.

I didn't give a shit if Derek hit me...

But my kids would not live in terror.

A/N: More to come...fluff up next!