Appearances

A/N: Natasha gets an unexpected visitor, Quinn has a confrontation and where the hell is Cameron Isaacs? Sorry this chapter jumps around a bit and comes across a little rushed because of it…

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee…

Glee!

Chapter Thirteen:

Natasha lay in her hospital bed, trying to will her eyes to open again. Her eyelids felt like someone had tied weights to them. They just didn't want to open. Her body was swimming in painkillers and it made her feel vaguely like she was underwater. She finally managed to open her eyes a crack, light flooding in. She wondered why she felt like this. She had been groggy before but this was something else entirely.

"Hi, baby," she heard her Mom's voice. She tried to force her voice to work.

"Mom?" it came out as a raw croak. A straw was pressed to her lips and she sucked, the cool water flowing down her throat woke her a little. "Mom?" more clearly this time.

"I'm here baby," her Mom replied. "You were in a lot of pain around midnight so they gave you extra meds." So that was why it was so much harder to wake up this morning…Natasha managed to force her eyes open the rest of the way, blinking as the harsh hospital lights flooded in.

"Oh," she managed to respond.

"Baby, someone is here to see you," Genevieve said, severing eye contact with her daughter. She stood and walked to the door nodding to someone outside. Natasha tried to crane her neck to see who it, but it hurt and accomplished nothing so she gave it up. Her mom walked in followed by the last person Natasha had expected to see.

"Dad?" she rasped incredulously.

"Hi beautiful," Greg Isaac's said softly. Natasha looked at him, tears pooling in her eyes, a lump rising in her throat. She tried to swallow it but she couldn't.

"Daddy," she whispered brokenly, lifting her good arm, reaching for him. All of the anger she had felt at him for leaving her faded for the time being, she would deal with that later. For now she was just so happy to see him. He stepped forward, taking her hand. She tried desperately to pull him closer to her, only managing a few weak tugs at his hand. Greg leaned down carefully, resting his forehead against hers, cradling her face with his free hand. Natasha pulled her hand from his and, with some effort, managed to lift her good arm to wrap around his neck. Greg shifted his head so that it rested next to Natasha's on the pillow, his lips next to her ear.

"I'm so sorry Natasha. I'm so fucking sorry. I can't believe what he's done to you. I should have been there. I should have stopped this. I should have ended this so long ago," his voice broke and Natasha sobbed harder. "I love you so much. I missed you so badly…" Greg's voice hitched and he broke off into an uneven chant of 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry' over and over and over. Natasha had no words and no idea how long they stayed that way but it was a long time. She vaguely wondered if her Dad's back was hurting. Then something else occurred to her, her still groggy mind seizing on it hard.

"Dad?" she asked. He pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

"Yeah baby?" he asked, his voice even in spite of his tears.

"Is Elijah here?" she asked, her voice raspier again now, from crying. Her dad picked up her water, holding the straw to her lips before answering.

"Yeah. He's out there with your Mom," he told her carefully.

"I want to see him," she said immediately. "I want to see him Dad," she pleaded. "Please?"

"I'll get him," Greg placed the cup back on the table and left the room. He came back in a few minutes later, with the slightly sleepy looking baby in his arms. Natasha drank him in, he was beautiful. He had the same tan skin that she and Jemimah had, inherited from their Puerto Rican Dad, but he had also inherited their Dad's chocolate brown eyes, rather than their grandmother's startling green. He had tufty brown hair and he was watching Natasha curiously. As her Dad carried him closer the baby beamed at her. Natasha had been waiting for this moment since her parents had told her that Genevieve was pregnant. It had killed her when her Dad and the baby had disappeared without even giving her the chance to say hello let alone goodbye. She smiled carefully back as Greg sat the baby on the bed under Natasha's good arm at her hip level.

"Hi Elijah," she said softly. The baby gurgled and grinned, drooling on the bed in the process. He flapped his little arms and Natasha reached out, catching a little hand in hers. Elijah grasped her finger in his, then grabbed her palm with his other little hand and tried to stick her fingers in his mouth. "Uh uh," Natasha pulled her hand back a little. The baby frowned, put out at being denied. Natasha laughed gently and Elijah laughed back at her, revealing one little white tooth at the bottom of his mouth.

"He thinks people laughing are hilarious," Greg told her, smiling. Elijah strained forward, reaching for Natasha's face. Greg shuffled him forward a little. He promptly grabbed a handful of Natasha's hair, pulling hard.

"OW! That's attached little man," Natasha frowned, reaching up awkwardly to pry the small hand out of her hair. She pulled it to her mouth and kissed it gently. The baby gurgled happily and Natasha wrapped her arm around his back, stroking gently up and down. It was the closest to a cuddle she could give him right now and her heart ached. She just wanted to hold her baby brother.

"Isn't he cool Tashie?" Jemimah bounded in then and Greg barely managed to catch the little girl with the arm that wasn't resting on the baby before she launched herself onto her injured sister.

"Slow down kiddo, your sisters not quite up for that yet," Greg told her lightly.

"Oh yeah, sorry Tash," Jemimah said sheepishly.

"S'ok Jem. Just try not to forget when there's no one to catch you," Natasha said gently.

"Yeah ok. But isn't he cool?" Jemimah's mind went back to her previous statement as she reached up to pet the baby's head.

"He's awesome," Natasha replied, smiling slightly at the happy little guy who was currently focussed on gently grabbing at the skin on her arm with both hands. "He's perfect," she whispered, stroking his chubby cheek.

Glee!

That night while Natasha was still marvelling over her baby brother in the hospital, Quinn paced anxiously in her living room, waiting. She was going to do this damn it. She was going to talk to her mother while the woman was sober and the only time she would get her sober was if she intercepted her as soon as she got home from work, before she opened the bottle. She had it all planned out in her head what she would say. She had been practising it all day at school, over and over in her head. It was perfect. Rational and heartfelt without being overly emotional…that in itself should have served as a warning.

"Quinnie?" Judy called out as she let herself in the front door.

"Hi Mom," Quinn called back. Taking a deep breath Quinn walked into the kitchen. "Mom I want to talk to you," she blurted in a rush.

"Sure honey," Judy frowned. She walked to the fridge, reaching in for her wine bottle.

"Damn it Mom!" Quinn shrieked, her anger bursting from the neat little compartment she had packed it away into. "Put the Goddamn wine away for five minutes! I want to talk to you sober for once!"

"Quinn Celeste Fabray! Do not take the Lord's name in vain!" Judy shrieked back. She pulled out a glass. Quinn stalked over, ripping the bottle from her mother's hand and tipping it down the sink. "Quinn!" her mother yelled angrily. Quinn's carefully prepared speech went straight out the window as her fury took over.

"Don't 'Quinn' me, Mom! You have no right! You suck! You suck Mom!" Quinn screamed, tears running down her cheeks.

"What is going on?" Judy asked, completely stunned by Quinn's display of emotion.

"What's going on? What's going on? Fuck, Mom, I don't know! One of my friends is in the hospital beaten nearly to death by her own brother. I ended up sedated and in the hospital myself because I had a massive panic attack. My friend's Moms raced to support them but my own Mom was too fucking drunk to care. Coach Sylvester had to drag your hung-over ass out of bed and to the hospital so that they could discharge me and did you stay with me? Did you support me through one of the most traumatic things I have ever been through? No! You took a fucking cab home to sleep it off! You let me down! You are so absorbed in your own crap that when I needed my Mom, you let me down. Again! You suck," Quinn stopped, sucking in hitching, painful breaths as she tried to reign in her anger. "You suck." Quinn repeated, softer now. "You suck and I think I hate you." Quinn gripped the table as sobs wracked her body at her last statement. She hadn't meant that, but her anger had made her run her mouth. She saw movement through her tears and then an arm wrapped around her and she was being led somewhere, her eyes so blurred from tears that she couldn't see where. Then she was in her Mom's lap, cradled in her arms like a small child. She could feel her Mom's chest hitching as she sobbed too.

It was all Judy could think to do, just pull her distraught youngest daughter into the living room to the couch and just cradle her in her arms. She began sobbing herself as Quinn's words sank in and the truth along with them. She held her tightly, reaching up a hand to stroke her blonde curls, her cheeks, her hands, trying desperately to comfort her. Quinn turned in her arms, wrapping her arms around her neck, burying her face into her shoulder and Judy adjusted her arms to hold her tightly and stroke her hair. It took a long time but eventually Quinn's sobs quieted to sniffles and she relaxed a little in Judy's arms. Judy cleared her throat, hoarse from crying.

"Quinnie I am so sorry," she began. "I just…I'm so sorry." She couldn't figure out where to start, there were so many things that she wanted to apologise for. Quinn climbed out of her lap, moving to the end of the couch, as far away from her mother as she could get.

"Sorry doesn't mean shit, Mom," she said evenly.

"Quinn, please stop swearing and listen to me," Judy said firmly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit," Quinn spat petulantly, folding her arms like a child, her anger flaring that after everything her mother fixated on her language of all things.

"Ok, fine, keep swearing and listen to me then," Judy took a deep breath, she hated swearing but she realised that now just wasn't the time. "Quinn you're right. I suck," Judy cringed at the slang. Quinn looked up in surprise at hearing it. "I'm probably the worst mother in the world. I have let you down so many times. I never stuck up for you when your father kicked you out, I never questioned it. I let him do it. Then after I left him I dragged you home and expected everything to go back to how it was. And it did. I went back to leaving you to yourself, drinking myself into numbness every night, expecting you to look out for yourself and to be ok with it all. Then this. This. I don't even know what to do with this. I've been so caught up in myself for so long that I've forgotten how to just be there for you. I should have been there, Quinn. I should have taken care of you. You must have been so scared, to find your friend like that. How is she doing?" Judy asked hesitantly.

"She has a lot of broken bones. She's going to be ok," Quinn said quietly. Surprised at her mother's openness.

"How are you doing Quinnie?" she asked.

"Horrible," Quinn's lip trembled and tears began cascading down her cheeks again. "Horrible. I can't make that image go away. We found her on her floor in a pool of her own blood. I can't get that out of my head. And I'm mad. I'm mad at you. I'm mad that I had to break down in Mrs Pierce's arms instead of yours when I was upset. You should have been there Mom. Even Louisa was there. She's totally oblivious to Santana ninety percent of the time, hence the extreme behaviour, but at least she's there when Santana needs her the most. You should have been there," Quinn rambled honestly.

"I know," Quinn had never seen her Mom look so ashamed. Judy slowly shifted closer to Quinn. Quinn sat still, not moving a muscle. "I'm sorry Quinn. I'll try harder. I can't promise to be perfect but I can promise that I'll try harder."

"You don't have to be perfect Mom. You just have to be there," Quinn told her. She leaned into her mother when she wrapped her arms around her again, head on her shoulder. She was quiet for a moment. "I don't hate you. I just don't like you very much right now," she admitted.

"I think that's fair," Judy replied.

"I'm sorry…about the swearing," Quinn blushed. "That was childish to the extreme."

"I think you're spending too much time around Santana," Judy replied evenly. "I swear there were times when the three of you were growing up that I actually considered using a gag to stop the flow of filth that spewed from that child's mouth. Good Lord," Quinn pulled back to stare at her mother, bursting out laughing when she saw the slight smile and the twinkle in her eye. She hadn't seen that in so long. Judy laughed too.

"She had a pretty impressive vocabulary for a six year old didn't she?" Quinn laughed.

"I had never heard the likes of it before and I don't think I have since or ever will again," Judy smiled. She hugged Quinn tighter and kissed her forehead. Quinn tucked her head against her shoulder and sighed somewhat contentedly. She internally told herself not to get her hopes up too high but she couldn't help feeling kind of good right now.

"I'm going to take a shower. I'm kind of a mess," Quinn was hesitant to break the moment but at the same time she needed some space to process what had just happened.

"Ok, sweetheart," Judy kissed her forehead again. Quinn stood and walked away, hesitating in the doorway.

"I'm still mad at you," she said, without looking at her mother.

"I know," Judy replied. She watched her daughter walk away. She stood in the doorway until she heard the bathroom door lock and the water come on before walking to the kitchen. She pulled out the phonebook and found what she was looking for. Judy Fabray took a deep breath before she punched in the number for the private alcohol counselling service.

Glee!

"San?" Brittany asked. They were stretched out side by side on Brittany's bed, fingers laced together between them.

"What?" Santana asked.

"Q told me you behave like you were raised by wolves to get attention because your Mom is oblivious. I don't know what that means," Brittany told her, rolling to face Santana.

"It means I'm going to punch Quinn in the head tomorrow," Santana growled viciously.

"Huh?" Brittany was staring at her like she had just asked her what the square root of a million was.

"It means that my Mom doesn't pay attention to me so I get in trouble and shit so that she will. But it's not true. Q is full of shit. That's why I'm going to punch her in the head," Santana replied, as calmly as she could manage, her fists clenching on the bed.

"Oh. I don't like it when you hit Quinn," Brittany said sadly, looking like Santana had just kicked a puppy. "And besides, I don't think she was trying to be mean." Brittany reached over to tickle the inside of Santana's wrist, the way she always did when she wanted something. Santana almost always gave in to that.

"Well why else would she say it?" Santana yanked her arm away, giving Brittany a sullen 'I know what you're trying to do' glare.

"I think she was talking about her Mom," Brittany frowned. Her hand shot out catching Santana's arm, yanking it back pointedly and resuming her gentle tickling.

"About her Mom?" Santana frowned, giving in to the tickling.

"Yeah. She said that even though your Mom is oblivious, even when you behave like you were raised by wolves to get her attention, that at least she's there and isn't drunk when you need her," Brittany parroted the words she had heard Quinn say earlier. "I didn't really understand. She was kind of all over the place."

"She's upset that her Mom didn't come to the hospital when ours did B," Santana explained, her voice had lost its angry edge now. "Quinn's Mom kinda sucks that way," she told the blonde.

"Oh!" Santana could almost see it click in Brittany's head. "Poor Quinn," her face fell as she processed the information a little more.

"Yeah. She's right about my mom too. She's oblivious most of the time but at least I know that she cares," Santana mused, lying back down her head tilting to rest against Brittany's shoulder, pulling her hand out of Brittany's grasp slightly to link their fingers again.

"I wish that you guys could have my Mom. My Mom is awesome," Brittany told her, smiling happily.

"Your Mom is totally awesome," Santana agreed, her eyes beginning to get heavy.

"Are you really going to punch Q tomorrow?" Brittany asked with a yawn.

"Maybe not this time," Santana replied. Brittany smiled to herself, wrist tickling always worked…

Glee!

Natasha was propped up in bed staring at the door. Something was going down. Something big. When she had woken up this morning there were four cops outside her door. A nurse had said that there were cops outside her Mom and Jemimah's door too and that her Dad and Elijah had been told to stay in there with them. She kept calling out to them but none of them would give her an answer. She felt the anxiety coiling up inside her, making her feel edgy. What if he was here? What if he was sneaking around in the hospital somewhere, looking for her? Natasha started to hyperventilate a little bit. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. When she opened her eyes they fell on the cork board full of Santana's drawings of the Glee Club. She looked at each picture in turn, Rachel belting out a note with her face all scrunched and intense, Mercedes in mid wail, Kurt, who Natasha didn't really know that well, gesturing flamboyantly, Quinn in a rare peaceful moment, without that weary look in her eyes, her eyes traced Santana and Brittany's linked pinkies then dropped to Puck's leering face. Natasha's anxiety faded as she stared at them all and she had the sudden realisation that she missed them, their teasing and bickering. She even missed Mr Shue's terrible rapping. She wondered if they would all come and visit her in the hospital. She wanted to ask Brittany or Quinn if they would ask them for her. She was busy wondering what they were up to when a bunch of cops ushered her Mom, Dad and Jemimah and Elijah into her room. She frowned, turning to look at them all.

"What's going on?" Natasha asked.

"We don't know baby," Genevieve replied. She glared at the cops.

"I'm sorry ma'am but we can't tell you anything until our Captain gets here," One officer said apologetically. Genevieve scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Gen," Greg said gently, squeezing her arm. He followed Natasha's eyes back to the pictures on the board, she was trying to calm herself again. "I noticed those earlier. Who drew them?" he asked.

"My friend Santana," Natasha replied. "You see the one of the two girls with their pinkies linked? She's the dark haired one," she pointed out.

"She's a brilliant sketch artist," Greg replied. "Who are the others?"

"The rest of the Glee Club. I'm in Glee Club now," Natasha told him.

"Singing and dancing?" her dad asked, confused at the term.

"Yeah," Natasha replied.

"That's good. You were always great at singing and dancing," Greg smiled.

"I didn't want to join. I got in four fist fights with Santana in a week. They made me join…but now I kind of love it," Natasha said shyly.

"Fist fights Tash? I thought she was your friend?" Greg asked, exasperated and confused.

"She comes on a little strong at first," Natasha said fondly. It seemed like a million years ago that she and Santana had been enemies.

"Right," Greg drew the word out, shaking his head a little bit in disbelief.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," a deep voice spoke from the door. "I'm Captain Adamson. I'd like to talk to you if that's ok."

"Ok," Genevieve said, taking in the man's grim face.

"Maybe the younger ones can play with Officer Anderson here for a bit," the man gestured to a kind faced female officer. Genevieve reluctantly handed the baby over and Jemimah shyly too her hand and allowed herself to be led away. Captain Adamson glanced at Natasha.

"Whatever you have to say, Natasha can hear it," Genevieve said staunchly.

"That's your choice ma'am," The man stepped further into the room, pulling one of the seats to the foot end of Natasha's bed, sitting down on it. "I'm sure you're all wondering about the presence of the police in the hospital tonight. We have been tracking your son, brother," he looked at Natasha who cringed. "So far he had managed to avoid us quite spectacularly. There were three high speed chases and the little bastard managed to get away from us every time. We put officers in a few places we suspected that he might go. Kept an eye on things. Last night we got a phone call from a source of a sighting near your residence, Mr Isaacs, and we headed out there to check it out. We arrived to find the house a mess, turned upside down from one end to the other," The officer cleared his throat. "We checked the answering machine which was the only thing still sitting there seemingly untouched. It still had the message we left for you Mr Isaacs, to tell you that your wife and daughters were here-."

"Fuck me! That was fucking stupid!" Greg cursed at his own stupidity.

"Maybe, maybe not. We figured he would come here so we got SWAT set up here, we wanted to be prepared for anything, we waited for a long time. About three hours ago it occurred to us that the sneaky bastard might get in here somehow so we sent officers up here to guard the rooms. About an hour ago he finally showed. He tried to get in the front doors with flowers and balloons and his best caring face on. When we tried to stop him he dropped it all and pulled a gun. We tried to reason with him, tried to get him to hand over the gun. We almost had him, and then he opened fire on us. He took down two officers; there were innocent people all around. We were left with no choice. I'm sorry Mr and Mrs Isaacs, but we were forced to take him down. Your son was killed in the fire fight," Adamson said as gently as he could. Genevieve began sobbing, Greg held her silently, tears running down his cheeks. Natasha could only try desperately to figure out how she was supposed to react to this cop informing that her abusive bastard brother was dead, by a hail of police gunfire…

Glee!

How was that? Did I get ya? Let me know what you think. I actually had other plans for Cameron but when I set to write this was what came out. I hope you all liked it.