AN: Hey, welcome to my second Pezberry story! This is going to be a multi-chaptered fic focusing on Santana and my interpretation of what her home life could be like, since we've yet to see that side of her in the Glee series. Santana is my favorite character because she's one of the most complex, there is no possible way someone can be nothing but a cold hearted bitch all the time, especially when usually she is all sweet smiles with Brittany and Quinn. So, this will definitely be showing her soft side, but never fear the attitude won't e lacking!

Disclaimer: I own nothing, if I did there would be an entire episode dedicated to Brittana, Melissa Etheridge, and sweet lady kisses.

Chapter 1 – Breakfast With The Twins

It was an unfortunately typical Saturday morning in the Lopez household as Santana stood in the spacious kitchen of her home, pealing and separating sections of oranges. She could not even remember the last time she had actually slept in on a weekend, but she was guessing that it was somewhere around five years ago. Before her loving, supportive, and amazingly strong mother had lost her life in a car accident one snowy night in December. Now, there was just not enough time for Santana to think of herself outside of school and Cheerio's practice, not with two six year old twin sisters and a worn out, alcoholic doctor for a father, who spent his time outside of the hospital passed out drunk on the couch.


The peaceful stillness of the morning was interrupted in just the way Santana had expected it to happen, with the older by three minutes of her two little sisters running down the hardwood stairs screaming her name like a banshee.

"Noelia, shh! Papí is asleep in the living room!" Santana hissed back, bringing her finger to her lips as the young girl skidded into the kitchen and ran towards the counter. She was already excitedly clamoring into one of the tall, bar style stools before the sentence was even complete.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you not to run down those stairs. Apparently cracking your head open last summer wasn't enough," the older girl muttered under her breath. It was sort of hard to conceal the fact that your little sister had cut her scalp open during a round of hide and seek when your father worked at the only local hospital, but Santana tried not to let herself feel guilty for too very long, she supposed it was just part of being a kid after all. She tried to tell herself that no matter how fiercely she wanted to protect them that sometimes things were just going to happen and she hated that.

"San, why didn't you make pancakes!" Noelia half scolded, half asked, while resting her chin in her small hands and her elbows on the countertop.

"I made you pancakes just yesterday, you can have cereal this morning. Now, elbows off the table," Santana stated with finality as she reached for bowls from a cupboard, she did not have to be looking to know what was going on. But as she brought the dishes down she noticed that something – or more appropriately – someone was missing. "Where's your sister?"

"I'm right here…" came a small, still groggy sounding voice from behind her. Turning around, Santana found her much quieter and timid little sister, Isabel, rubbing her eyes tiredly and dragging her blanket. Her dark hair was in all sorts of disarray and the older girl could not help but kneel down in front of her and smooth it away from her adorable face.

"Look at your hair, it's a mess," she laughed, as she ran her fingers through it. "I still love you though. Did you sleep well, mi bebé?"

"Yes…" Isabel answered lightly, wrapping her arms around her older sister's neck and laying her head on her chest. Santana gave each of the girls equal attention in different ways, but Isabel sometimes needed that extra hug or words of encouragement, while Noelia was normally content with forging her own path. Isabel was the soft spoken one who always had questions about the mother she had never truly gotten to know, while Noelia was the boisterous one who seemed to be unconcerned with anything that might cause her sadness or upset.

"You didn't hug me this morning!" Noelia shouted, making Santana lift her face from her little sister's hair to stick her tongue out at her.

"Well, you didn't!" the young girl insisted.

After pressing a kiss to Isabel's forehead, Santana stood up and moved toward Noelia with a mischievous expression. "Chica, that's because you came down here yelling at me about pancakes."

Noelia started giggling as her older sister approached, she could already tell where this would lead by the sly stance Santana was taking. And before she could do anything to protect herself, Santana had caught her in a kiss and tickle attack, peppering her face and neck with quick pecks as she tickled her ribs, making both the young girls laugh hysterically.


All of their fun came to a sudden halt when their father's voice echoed in their ears from the living room.

"Shit!" the brunette swore.

"Ooh…" the twins said in unison, followed by a "San said a bad word!" from Noelia.

"Alright, quiet now," Santana said, her tone allowing no argument. "Eat your breakfast." She could only hope that as she exited to the other room that she would not come back to Captain Crunch and milk spilled all over the kitchen from letting the girls pour it themselves.

"Sorry, papí…"

"What the hell are you doing out there, Santana?" her father, Dr. Andres Lopez, asked with condescension in his gravelly, just-woken tone. Even though he had asked, he did not seem truly interested in the answer, only in blocking the early morning sun from his eyes. "Close the curtains…"

As she walked towards the large bay window of their living room and obediently drew the heavy curtains closed, she answered, "We were just having brea –"

"Well, can't you have breakfast quietly?" he interrupted, lifting his hand from his eyes and using it to gesture his annoyance. "I'm obviously trying to sleep."

"Yeah, dad…" She hoped that using the English version of the word would convey her disappointment in his using her full name. It was not a great feat to come up with the shortening of 'San' from 'Santana,' but when she was younger he had been the one that she first remembered calling her that. Not anymore though, she was grown up and her father was not the same man he used to be; it was all business now, but that did not make it hurt any less.

"Oh," Andres began again, just as she was going to return to the kitchen. "Take your sisters to the mall today and figure out what they want for Christmas. I told them I would take them to see Santa, but I might have to head back to the hospital in a few hours…they'll have more fun with you anyway."

Hospital, my ass, Santana thought to herself with sadness. Sadness for herself at having lost her once playful and doting father and sadness for her little sisters who in addition to never knowing their mother, would never know the great father he had been. The only place you're going to be in the next few hours is that couch, or maybe the fridge to crack open a beer.


Things will be a little angsty between the girls and their father throughout the story, but on a lighter note, Rachel makes her debut in the next chapter. I already have a few chapters written for this, so I just need to know if you would like to see more. Thanks for reading!