A/N: So i'm thinking i'm going to work on this story, and 'My little Girl'. If I come up with any one-shots, I'll post those, but I think I'm going to keep it with these two for now. I came up with this idea both from other stories with the same theme, and the title comes from a movie called 'White Lion'. This involves some pretty dark themes, which is why it's rated M. Rachel's dad is OOC. This is Faberry. With Shelby/Rachel bonding... Also involves Beth. I'll probably only update this once a week, depending on when I can get a chapter done. Since I'm on holidays I can write a lot more than I normally can, so the once a week thing will probably only come in to account when school restarts.

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee.

P.S. Quinn might seem a bit... off in regards to the whole, she likes Rachel and she's not doing anything. I have a reason, but this A/N is going on too long as it is. If anyone wants to know that reason, tell me and I'll include it in the next chapter.

Hope you like it. Enjoy.

Little White Lion

Chapter One: I Have Scars You Won't Believe

When I was little, and I mean really little, like… Four. My daddy was my everything. He was my hero. He used to carry me around on his shoulders, and take me to the park. He coloured with me and he sang songs. He called me his 'Little Star', and he said one day, I was going to shine just like one. On a stage in front of a crowd, with a standing ovation. And he'd be in the front row standing with them.

I had only just turned five when it happened. I don't remember a lot of it. Just bright lights and muffled sounds.

Daddy and I had gone to the zoo, because I wanted to see the big cats. We sat at a table for lunch, and Daddy even gave me an ice-cream.

"I promise, my Little Star. I will always be here for you. Now come on, let's see who can finish their ice-cream first."

Daddy promised he'd be here. He promised he'd never leave me.

The road was slippery because it had been raining. I remember singing… Really, really loudly. Daddy had turned his head to smile at me, and I looked back at him. I was clutching my stuffed lion to my chest. There was a light, and I remember screaming. There was a loud bang, and the glass shattered. Daddy screamed my name, and then the light was gone. Everything was black.

I don't remember much of that day. Just that I was happy. Really happy. And then I hurt. Everything hurt. And that it was my fault.

Papa brought me home a week after the accident. He hadn't said anything to me. Just looked at me and walked off. I didn't understand. Why did Papa not talk to her? She'd already lost Daddy. Was she loosing Papa too?

I understand now. It's not hard to get the message when it's screamed at you every day.

It's my fault.

The first time Papa hit me, I was six. It was almost my birthday, my seventh birthday. My Daddy had a tradition. He'd take me to the park in the morning, just before the sun rose. He'd carry me form bed, in to the car, and put on a tape as we drove there. I asked Papa if we were going to go to the park that morning. He was really quiet. He just looked at em and the next thing I knew, my cheek had stung and he was towering over me.

"Don't. Don't ever mention him again. Ever. It is your fault he's gone."

That. That I can remember.

And I remember every day after that.

Papa got colder. Papa got meaner. Papa got angrier. He moved me from my room, right down in to the basement, where he said little monsters belonged. My clothes were rags, and I had marks scattered around my body, scars littered across my back.

As I got older I learnt what was right, and what was wrong. I kept my head down at home. I obeyed orders when at home. I answered to 'Pet'.

At school, I craved attention. I needed it. I needed someone to see. No one ever did. If anything my need for attention just pushed everyone away.

Everything is my fault.

I met my mom when I was fifteen. I thought I was finally safe. Finally free. But I made the mistake of showing her who I was. And she ran away from me. Twice.

I only need to make it two more years. Two more years, and I'm eighteen. Two more years, and I can leave without him lurking in the shadows.

I never thought…

Maybe I don't have two years left.

XX

A lot can be said about Rachel Berry.

She's annoying…

She's loud…

She obnoxious…

She's unbearable…

But no one knows the real Rachel Berry. No one looks hard enough to note the pain filled eyes, the longing stares… The scars littering her body.

If they did… Would they have done anything?

It was Tuesday. Tuesday was freestyle day for Glee. Anyone who wanted to sing, just got up and sang. It didn't matter what they sung. It didn't have to be relevant to what was going on with them. All they had to do was sing.

They should have realized something was wrong when Rachel wasn't the first to volunteer. But no one cared. Rachel Berry wasn't the first in the spotlight. They had to take advantage of this rarity.

There was one person that did notice though. They did notice that Rachel wasn't even paying attention, that she was staring at a spot on the floor with a faraway look.

When Glee was over, and everyone had cleared out, that person sat in their seat, contemplating.

'What is up with Berry?'

Okay, sure. Shelby had come back. But that couldn't be it, right? Even she was freaked out and a little distracted. Come on, her daughter was back in town. Give her a break.

But that's not the point. Something was seriously up with Rachel. And, if anyone were to ask she'd deny it wholeheartedly, but Quinn was just a little worried.

Then again, she'd deny having feeling for the petite brunette too, so there wasn't anything new there.

It wasn't her fault. Liking Rachel. She had since they were like, ten, when Rachel sat next to a little Lucy Fabray and asked if she wanted to use her pencils. And the bullying? That was just Quinn's way of keeping people off of her.

She shook her head, cleared her thoughts and stood from her seat.

Rachel would be fine. She had to be.

A/N: Hope it was good. Review it. I'll try and get the next chapter written soon.

P.S. If anyone has any prompts for one-shots, I'll take them. I don't like Finn, so don't ask me to write him, and I prefer stuff involving Shelby, Rachel, Puck or Quinn. Also, I can't stand the Shelby/Will pairing. Sorry, but I really don't like Will all that much.

Cool... Laters.