Warnings for mature themes - language, sexual situations, spanking of teens, rape, self harm

Be aware of trigger warning throughout the entire story

Don't own Glee

Chapter 12

Rachel and Quinn were released from the hospital, and allowed to go home. Officer Christine, of the sexual assault division, had offered to take Quinn's statement in the privacy and comfort of her own home. It was agreed by the adults, the girls could have a week at home to recover, before being interviewed again. Quinn had given an initial statement, enough to keep Finn Hudson in jail, but they needed more details now. The case looked like it was definitely going to trial.

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After hearing the argument between her mothers' at the hospital, Quinn had padlocked her feelings, and closed off her heart. She withdrew into herself; the pain of her mother's doubts was too great to face alone. And she was all alone, that was clear. This was not even something she could share with Mack or Puck, because her mother was right. She had endangered her sister's life by keeping her rape a secret. It seemed so black and white now. It didn't at the time. Seeing Rachel's naked, battered body in the hotel had shown her how wrong she had been to ever believe she could protect the girl from Finn Hudson. She didn't deserve her mothers' love or compassion. Hell, she didn't even deserve to still be part of this family. Rachel was the victim; she was just a selfish whore.

Quinn's nights were spent reliving her rape. Sometimes, it was her raping Rachel while Finn watched. Those were the worst nights. She woke up screaming into her pillow. It had been less than a week since Homecoming, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Last night, the night before her interview with the sex crimes detective, Quinn didn't sleep at all. Every time she closed her eyes, she entered a nightmare world of abuse. There was no escape during the day; there was no escape at night. Quinn was turning into a hollow shell of her former self. She would have given anything to have Rachel's escape. The date rape drug had erased her memories of that night. It seemed like an awful thing to wish for, but Quinn would love the escape of oblivion. It sounded so peaceful right now.

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Rachel was curled up in her bed, in the fetal position. She hugged her arms tightly around her body and cried. The young cheerleader was disgusted with herself. Quinn had warned her, her mom had warned her, Mack had warned her, Puck had warned her, even her gentle, blonde mama who loved everyone, had not liked Finn. Everyone was right; she was a selfish, horrible person. Rachel realized she had been insecure, and afraid to be without a boyfriend. She wanted to be popular. What kind of person behaves like that?

She had allowed her boyfriend to slushy her own sister, the boy who had raped Quinn. She had mocked her sister for her Goth appearance. Instead of trying to find out why she had changed, she had made Quinn's life miserable. She had helped her sister's abuser, violate her again and again. The whole time, Quinn was trying to protect her. It broke her heart. She had never deserved Quinn's love and protection.

Rachel sat up, walked to the bathroom, and washed her face. She stared at herself in the mirror, hard. She didn't like what she saw. This time, she was going to be the good sister. This time, she was going to save Quinn. She knew how lucky she was that she had escaped being raped. Rachel understood what a gift it was to have no memory of that night at the hotel. Quinn had to live with her memories. She had listened to Rachel being hurt that night on the cell phone, and she could see it was killing her older sister. Rachel was going to make Finn Hudson pay for hurting her sister, no matter what the cost to her personally. It was time to grow up. Quinn had saved her from a fate worse than death. She had sacrificed herself, to save her baby sister.

Rachel Lopez-Pierce took an unsteady breath, blew her nose, and washed her hands. She walked back into her bedroom, looking sorrowfully at Quinn's closed bedroom door. Rachel stopped in front of it, and put her hand tenderly on the door. Rachel's hand was shaking from the intensity of her love for Quinn. She made a silent vow to save her sister. Quinn didn't know it, but she had a new protector. Rachel went to her room quietly. She sat at her desk. Opening her computer, she started to research rape prosecutions. It was up to her to save Quinn this time, not the other way around.

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Santana sat at her desk, staring at the lunch Brittany had packed. She had no appetite. She was filled with an icy rage. She wanted that piece of shit Hudson dead. As an attorney, a prosecutor, she fought for justice. She had counseled families, victims of crimes to let the courts handle things. What a fucking joke, what a condescending asshole she had been. "Let the courts handle it?" She had watched time and again, as some violent offender walked with a slap on the wrist. She watched drunk drivers cause bodily harm, and go to rehab. She watched robbers get probation, while their victims lost the ability to feel safe in their own homes. What was the court going to do to Hudson? Whatever it was, it wasn't enough. She wanted blood.

She had turned her anger, rage, and helplessness on Quinn. What kind of mother does that? A worthless piece of shit, that kind of mother did what she did. Brittany had every right to be angry with her. She didn't deserve the family she had. Brittany was wrong though about one thing. She never favored Rachel. Santana had given her heart to Quinn the first time she heard her heartbeat, the first time she saw her on the ultrasound, the first time their eyes met. It was hard though, knowing she had failed her first-born so completely.

It was hard to explain to her wife. The woman had been her savior more times than she could count. How did she tell the sweetest, most innocent, kindest person on the planet that she fantasized daily about murdering Finn Hudson? How could she tell her that every time she looked at her daughters', the urge got stronger? This was Brittany, the woman who stopped her car to help frogs cross the street, for fuck's sake. She'd never understand. The blonde knew her wife had violent tendencies, but Santana knew Brittany could never understand the impulse. They didn't exist in her world of unicorns, kittens, and rainbows. Now, because Santana, the most respected prosecutor in Allen County, Ohio had allowed a rapist in their midst. She was worthless; as a lawyer, a wife, and most especially as a mother.

Santana knew that Brittany had seen her at her worse. She had always forgiven her, she had always supported her. This time, she wanted an 18 year old dead, and it went against everything she believed about herself. She couldn't put that kind of worry or burden on her wife. She'd handle this herself.

Santana heard her phone beep, alerting her of a text. She looked down and saw it was from Brittany, reminding her of Quinn's interview, like she could forget her 16 year old daughter's appointment to discuss her rape with a sex crime detective.

She threw her phone against the glass brick wall of her office. Watching it shatter gave her no satisfaction at all.

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Brittany sat at her kitchen table, idly staring at the bird feeder hanging from the little tree outside the window. She didn't know how to fix this. The blonde had always been cherished and adored by her Latina wife. Violence had never been a part of her life. Santana had always protected her. Now both her daughters were the walking wounded, and her strong wife was turning into a workaholic. She had been shocked at her wife's anger towards Quinn. Hindsight being 20/20, she realized she'd handled it all wrong. Santana had shut down, and stopped sharing her feelings. Brittany wished for the 100th time, she could take her words back.

Everything was a mess. She was a straightforward woman of action. She knew Santana was the analyzer, not her. Brittany had a deep abiding love for her family. She would trust that now that the truth was out, love was answer. Giving up was not in her makeup. Brittany vowed to find a way to fix this mess. Her family would be happy and whole again.

They just had to get through Quinn's interview today. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she sent a quick text to Santana reminding her of the time. She knew Santana was avoiding being home, but she made it clear her presence at this interview was mandatory.

Closing her eyes sadly, she threw off a quick prayer to whatever deity was listening. She needed help saving her family. For the first time in her life, Brittany Lopez-Pierce was clueless how to help her family. She had always relied on her maternal instincts. This time, they had failed her. More honestly, she had failed her family. She knew something was wrong with Quinn, she didn't push hard enough. She finished her prayer, hoping it wouldn't go unanswered.

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Mack was bringing both teens assignments from school, and giving them to Brittany daily. She could see the family was falling apart. Mack didn't know if they noticed what was happening. They all seemed so guarded, like they were wrapping up their individual pain in armor, and holding it so tight. All they were doing was losing the best thing they had going; a real family that always had hung together. Now, they were acting like four strangers sharing a house. Mack would give her right arm for parents like Santana and Brittany. They were her family too, maybe only by proxy, but she'd be fucking damned if she was going to watch them all implode. She had to be careful though, she couldn't bear it if they wound up hating her. She loved them all, well maybe not Rachel as much as the others, but she did feel sorry for the selfish little diva as well. No one deserved what happened to her.

She knocked softly on the kitchen door of the pretty, little, suburban home. It used to be a haven of peace, happiness, and laughter. Now it was filled with pain and sadness.

Brittany opened the door, and smiled gently at Mack, "Come in Lauren, I was just making some tea." The blonde looked miserable. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. Those big, baby-blue eyes; sparkling with innocence, hope, and love was what Mack loved most about Brittany Lopez-Pierce. They used to notice everything, now they seemed dull and lifeless.

"I wanted to thank you for hanging with Puck and me in the waiting room at the hospital. I would have lost it totally, if you would have made me leave without knowing Q and Rachel were ok," Mack said carefully.

The tall blonde mother-figure turned and looked at the teenager in surprise, "Why would I have turned you away, Lauren?"

"I just figured it was a very private, family thing going on. You might have just thought Puck and I were in the way," the girl mumbled in embarrassment, "like, maybe we didn't belong there," she finished vulnerably.

Brittany felt a sudden stab of pain. No one seemed to want these kids. She couldn't understand it, they were such incredible kids. Sure they were a little on the wild side, but they had no one to hold them accountable. The blonde squared her shoulders; she decided to play a more active role with both Lauren and Noah. Taking the brunette's hand, she sat her down at the kitchen table.

"Well, that's nonsense. How could you and Noah be in the way? You are both part of this private, little family," She went and poured the boiling tea into two mugs. Brittany joined Lauren at the kitchen table, "How are you handling all this? I was very serious when I said no violent retaliation," Her blue eyes narrowed sternly.

Mack swallowed, "I haven't done anything, I swear," she kicked herself for sounding so young, but both Brittany and Santana made her feel like she was a naughty six-year old sometimes.

The blonde pushed both honey and sugar towards Mack, and nodded towards her steaming tea, "How about school? No more ditching classes?"

Mack fidgeted in her seat, guilty as charged.

"Lauren Noel," Mack's eyes shot up in shock, she didn't know Brittany knew her humiliating, girly middle name, "I have half a mind to turn you over my knee!" Brittany watched the girl turn pink, then red, then a violent purple, "I'm sorry your Mom is not around, frankly it's her loss. Your dad has a disease, and that is not your fault either! You cannot allow them to stop you from succeeding. You are smart, beautiful, and you have such potential. I am not just going to sit here and watch you destroy your life. That means you better start walking the straight and narrow, little girl. If this experience has taught me anything, it's to not assume everyone is alright. I should have pushed Quinn harder, when I saw her struggling. I didn't follow my instincts," She looked at Mack firmly, "Well that stops now! I love you, and I am well aware that I am overstepping my boundaries with you, Lauren. Since your mom and dad have abdicated their responsibilities, I'm going to keep my eye on both you and Noah! I mean it! Straighten up, or I just might take you in hand, literally. Understand? I don't make idle threats!"

Big, brown eyes opened wide at the threat, and nodded seriously, "Yes, ma'am," she stuttered, "may I go say hi to Quinn, please?"

Brittany bit her bottom lip, to prevent herself from grinning at the shocked teen in front of her, "Yes, you're excused. Do not let me hear of you skipping again, you won't like the results," the blonde waited until Lauren dashed up the stairs, before smiling. She sipped her hot tea carefully, "Ok, well that was one teenager in hand, now she only had her two and Noah left," she suddenly didn't feel so helpless anymore. Unaware of just how wrong she was.

Mack rapped on Quinn's door, "Hey Q, it's me! Can I come in?"

"It's open," Quinn called out.

"Dude your mother has totally lost her marbles," Mack said on entering. Still not sure if she should take Brittany's threats seriously.

"Which one," Quinn said in a disinterested voice, "they're both acting crazy since last Friday."

Mack took in her best friend's appearance. Her heart sank, she looked worse than she did right after the rape last year, "Hey, what's going on Q? Let me help?"

Quinn swallowed roughly, at the soft kindness in Mack's voice. Puck had told her about Finn cornering Mack in the park. She finally understood that people around her got hurt, first Rachel, then Mack. Her own mother blamed her. It was time to handle her shit on her own, "Nothing's going on. Did you come over for something or just to annoy me?" Hazel eyes shot daggers at her best friend.

Mack actually stepped back. She had seen the HBIC look used on others, but Q had never looked at her that way, "I brought your classwork, yours and Rachel's." She said quietly, unsure how to proceed, or what was going on.

"When did you turn into such a kiss-ass? When did you start giving a shit about schoolwork?" Quinn turned her back on her best friend disdainfully. She couldn't bear to see the pain her words were causing.

The brunette stared hard at her friend, "What the fuck is your problem?" She was hurt, and she snapped.

Quinn felt dead inside, "Seriously? What the fuck is my problem? Just get out, you bore me! Don't bother coming back, I don't want you around."

Mack bit her lip to stop tears from flowing. Quinn just ended their friendship, with no more emotion than she used to order a pizza. The brunette nodded crisply, and ran out of the room. She didn't stop running until she got to the park. There, alone, she could give in to her hurt, and cry. She totally forgot her mission to save the family she loved. It never occurred to her that Quinn loved her, and was trying to protect her.

Quinn watched her best friend run out of her room. She ran her fingers roughly through her spikey, pink hair, and pulled hard. It was hard, but it had to be done. Mack was better off without all the drama and extra baggage in her life. The teen tried to feel pain, but honestly, she felt nothing. She wished she could just feel something, but all she felt anymore was anger. It was all directed at herself, and her own stupidity.

She walked into the bathroom, and punched the wood door, hard. Quinn wanted to hit harder, but she was afraid of putting a hole in the wall. Her mother would have her ass if she did that. The guilt inside her was pushing her, she needed to feel something. Her interview with the blonde sex crimes officer was today. She couldn't do anything to herself that left marks. Her mothers' would notice. Quinn felt like she had volcano inside of herself, but she didn't know how to diffuse the red, hot lava from boiling over. Rage was all she could deal with. She just wanted to die, but she didn't have the guts to do that either.

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to be continued...