Hey. I suppose I have some explaining to do. But that can wait. If you don't feel like rereading, here's a little summary. If the summary doesn't do it justice, then please go back and skim through a few chapters :)

So, Quinn and San are now basically a thing. Their little brothers are accused of being a thing at school, but they're probably not. Santana's abusive father left 4 years ago when she was 14, and now there's a rumor that he'll pay her a birthday visit. The cheerios and blackjacks are all messed up because of Q and S, and people at Mckinley high are all dying their hair wild colors because of Quinn. Also, Quinn knew before Santana that San's father would come visit.

"But you weren't supposed to."

"I wasn't."

"But you know what this means?"

I shook my head. "That's what I'm so nervous about," I admitted. "I love you. I just want you to be happy."

"Don't do that," she sighed as she sat on her bed. "I haven't seen the man in years. I don't know what he's like anymore. I only know who I thought he was."

"People change," I tried.

"Tell me about it." I know she was talking about me when she said that, but it didn't ease my worries. "He doesn't know about you."

"What does that mean for us?"

She sighed, a look of utter distress graced her delicate features. "It means I'm not choosing between you and my father."

"Santana-"

"You don't get it, Quinn. If he hears you call me baby, or babe, or anything, he's out again. And I can't take that- I can't take that loss a second time."

"What are you saying, Santana?"

"I'm saying… I think we should sleep in our own beds tonight. I thought I had enough time to think… but it's too much," her voice shook when she spoke, and she looked like she despised the words that were coming out of her mouth. She didn't sound like herself- the confident, adorably arrogant Santana. She sounded small. Like a little kid. Like the younger teenager that her father abandoned- and I'll be damned if I let him do that to her again.

On Sunday morning, I wasn't sure what to do. I rolled out of bed, and dragged my feet to the dresser. The girl in front of me looked nothing like me. I smiled at my reflection, and ran my fingers through my unruly pink hair. I didn't think that Maribel would be up for church, and I knew for a fact that Santana wouldn't go. Or, at least, I hoped she wouldn't.

A few minutes later, I was walking towards Santana's room, not sure what to expect. I knocked first, but no one answered. I did it again, and wondered if she'd already gone downstairs. Slowly, I opened the door. She was sleeping, curled up over the covers, almost hugging her knees.

"San," I said softly. "Santana," I tried again as I slowly entered her room.

"Quinn?"

"Mhm," I hummed. She didn't open her eyes.

"Come lay with me," she mumbled. I did as she said. When I touched her arm, I was surprised with how cold it was.

"San, honey, let's get under the covers, okay?"

She mumbled something, but wiggled none the less so that we could work our way under. Once we succeeded, I took her in my arms again. "Quinn?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should talk about that thing neither of us wanted to talk about."

I looked at her, but found that her eyes were still closed. "Okay," I breathed.

"But not right now. Right now I just want us to do this," she squeezed me a little tighter, then loosed her grip again.

"Okay," I nodded gently. We have this for now. But I knew we couldn't avoid talking about our father's completely. I'm not sure how long we laid there, but I never fell asleep. She did. As we layed there, I felt myself get angry again. We just started. I just got her. What if he shows up and says he'll stay if I go. What if he thinks I corrupted his daughter? What if he ruins everything?

"You're thinking too loudly," she whispered.

"Sorry," I sighed. I tilted my head down a little, and met her questioning brown eyes.

"Are you scared?" She asked, her voice still hushed.

"Out of my mind."

"Me too."

I woke up to an empty bed, not knowing what day it was. Or year. Slowly, I sat up and saw that Santana was pacing the floor.

"My birthday is coming up," she said, once she saw that I was awake.

"I know," I yawned.

"I haven't celebrated my birthday since I was 14."

"It's been a while."

"I haven't seen my dad since I was 14," she continued. I didn't know what to say, so I just looked at her. "I'm turning 18. It's been 4 years. Leo hardly remembers him, and if he misses him, he doesn't show it…"

"Santana-"

"The last thing he called me was a disgrace. Before that, it was doll face. Always doll face. Or monkey. Or something- something endearing. It's been so long," she trailed off.

"Are we having that talk?" I whispered. She stopped pacing and looked down at her feet. A small nod of her head gave me the answer. She sat on the edge of her bed, so I joined her.

"You go," she said quietly.

"Russell was an alcoholic. He was the catholic type, but the kind that would rather stay home and watch football on Sundays. And any other day- there was always a game on. I don't know why he drunk so much. But we- my mother and I -always tried to hard to make him happy. She'd cook," I smiled wryly, "and I'd bring him his beer. He had these fits of rage, they always came out of nowhere. He didn't care who he hurt then. He just had to hurt somebody."

"Quinn," she said sympathetically. I waved her off. The past is the past.

"Eventually, it came back around. I'm just glad he wasn't driving drunk. He didn't bring anybody down with him. Alcohol poisoning must have been a pretty ironic way to go. The thing he loved the most killed him."

"Everything we like seems to be at least little harmful," Santana nodded.

I smiled at her, and nodded. "Anyway, I think he only brought one person down with him. Mom. She's been different. It' been a while, but I remember singing with her in the kitchen, dancing around, tugging on her long skirts. I think she used to let her curls loose. She used to smile without seeming condescending. She used to be so.. genuine."

"I can't see it," she said softly. I sighed. I wish I could know that part of mom again.

"That's about it. He's been gone since Rhys was 3, so it's been 5 years."

"Do you miss him?"

I shrugged. "Not really. He wasn't.. I don't think, how he was supposed to be. He wasn't warm."

"Mine was the opposite," she said, more to herself than to me. "I was his angel. I couldn't do anything wrong in his eyes. The one thing I could do wrong, I did it. So he left."

"And that's all?" I pushed.

"No. He used to. -He got a little physical. He didn't rape me or anything- but I had to go to church on Tuesdays and Thursdays, as well as Sundays. Originally, it was only Sundays. When that didn't work, he'd hit me- never in front of my mom. I always tried to hide it from her. Like, if she didn't know, then somehow, it never happened."

"Santana," I frowned.

"I just wanted to make him proud. I didn't want to be miserable," she groaned. "So I brought boys home. Good ones too. But I didn't let them kiss me, and we would hardly hold hands. So they kept breaking up with me, and I'd become someone else's challenge. Eventually, my dad caught on. He couldn't take it. He left."

"Do you want him back?"

"I did," she admitted. "I do. More than anything."

"But…?"

"But." She said as a final word. The explanation was obvious. But, us.

She's irritable. She shrugged away from my touch, and told me that she was hungry. Like yesterday, we slept through the morning. I followed her down the stairs, and sat on the counter while she searched through the cabinets.

"Don't feel like cooking," she mumbled to herself. I heard his yawn before I saw him. Leo dragged his feet into the kitchen, and leaned against the counter next to me.

"Can you get me the Apple Jacks?" He asked. "I can pour it myself."

Santana grunted something, then found the box and gave it to him. Minutes later, and she was still opening cabinets and slamming them shut. Leo walked carefully to the table so that none of his cereal would still; he poured a little too much. I tried to help, but he insisted. Right before he placed it down, he stumbled and it all spilled.

"Seriously?" Santana snapped.

"It w-was an accident-" Leo tried, but she cut him off.

"Just wipe that shit up, and try not to do it again?"

"Okay," he whispered. He wasn't used to Santana yelling at him. Or looking at him like that.

"Santana," I said gently. "maybe we should just go out and get something to eat."

"Why, there's food here." She gave me a glare with scrunched eyebrows.

"Because you're being an ass, so we should leave before you hurt your little brother's feelings," I whispered. She pursed her lips, and nodded once. We walked to our own rooms to get ready. When I was done, she was already downstairs. Wordlessly, we walked to my car.

"What if he brings a kid?" She blurted. "Or a new wife?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, San."

"What if he's replaced me, and he just wants to rub it in my face?" She went on as if I hadn't said anything. I shrugged. "What if he's lying. He wants me to get my hopes up, just so he can disappear again. Or maybe he's broke, and he wants my trust fund money from my grandpa, who hated his guts. Or what if-"

"Santana," I sighed. She stopped. She looked at me with glossy eyes, and hope. It broke my heart to see her this small. "We don't know. But what I do know, is that I will be here for you. Whatever you decide to do- I'm here. You're not alone."

She gave me a thin smile, and slowly laced our fingers. "I know," she assured me. "That's about the only thing I'm sure of," she said with a small, dry laugh.

"Santana, I'm serious. No matter what you want to do when you see your dad, I'll support it. Okay?"

She eyed me oddly, her eyebrows scrunched up and her nose wrinkled a little. "I know," she nodded.

"And I won't hold anything against you," I added.

"I know."

"And I love you. More than I've ever loved someone. So, so much, San."

"I know," it was quiet. An almost silent defeat. She slumped down in her seat and stared out the window. I stopped waiting for her to say it back, and started to pull out of the driveway. I didn't say it to hear it in return. I said it so she'd know.

Then, she spoke. "I don't want to see him. Ever."

"Santana-"

"No. I'm happy Quinn. Genuinely happy. Mom and I are closer than ever. Rhys and Leo are like brothers. Your mom treats me decently. And I have you. I can't- I can't mess that up. Not for him."

"You won't lose any of that, any of us-"

"I've made up my mind. He's been gone for 4 years. He can stay gone. Quinn, I'm finally okay." She gave me a small smile, and looked at me like she loved me. "I don't need him," she shrugged.

"Are you sure?" I asked carefully. She breathed out a laugh, and shook her head.

"No. Yes. I don't know. I just like the way things are."

"If you change your mind, it's okay," I said. She nodded. "What are we hungry for?"

hey guys! So, it's been way too long. relationship and job and school, and way too many excuses. but, i never stopped writing. I'm going to come up with a schedule, drop a day in the reviews that you'd recommend for weekly updating! Anyways, happy reading. I hppe to hear from you guys, I loved rereading old reviews. Talk to you soon!

-kp