A/N: I've been trying to commit myself to writing at least a little bit every day. I was thinking about what I could do for my next fic, since I wasn't really in the mood to write smut, and this just came to mind and I couldn't get it out of my head. I hope you enjoy.
WARNING: Contains references to suicide and descriptions of psychiatric wards as well as descriptions of depression and anxiety problems. If you find any of that triggering, please do not read this. Thank you.
As per usual, I don't own anything but the plot.
I did, however, base this on some of my own experiences. So please, be conscious of that while reviewing.
This couldn't be happening.
But it is, sweetheart. And you have no one to blame but yourself.
Santana's tearful voice came to mind and she felt a stab of regret.
"It'll be okay, Q. They'll take care of you."
The sound of the heavy police boots on tile floors rang through her mind as she followed the officers, her wrists cramping in the heavy handcuffs.
"They'll get you checked in in just a minute," the tall officer told her. "I'll take those off now."
A key clicked into the lock and she suddenly understood why in every TV show and movie, assailants rubbed their wrists after having on handcuffs.
After several minutes of prying questions, a breathalyzer test, and a urine sample, a doctor came through the door, dismissing the police officers.
"Okay, Miss Fabray. If you'll follow me, we'll finish getting you checked in."
Everything about this night felt like a blur. One minute she was on her bed with a handful of sleeping pills and a bottle of her dad's scotch and the next she was sitting in the back of a police car.
"Here's what you'll wear now. Your clothes and personal items will be put in a locker and returned to you when you go home."
"When will that be?"
The busty woman met the blonde's fearful gaze and just smiled pityingly.
"You need to change into the clothes."
Hazel eyes searched the room for a screen or a sign to direct her to a bathroom.
"Where's the bathroom?"
"You have to change here. You're under 48 hour watch."
The blonde's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. She supposed she deserved this.
Her gaze refused to leave the floor as she slowly stripped to change into the pale blue, scratchy scrubs she'd been given, her arms working to cover any parts of her body that may be exposed.
The nurse watched the girl, eyes intently following things like the strings on her hoodie, and her shoelaces.
"Alrighty. I'll take those," the nurse said, indicating to the stack of Quinn's, now folded, clothing. "And do you have a cell phone, iPod, or anything else on your person?"
Quinn looked tentatively down at herself, fingering the delicate chain of her gold necklace.
"I'll have to take that too, sweetie. And your earrings."
Feeling a sense of shame wash over her, she carefully removed her cross necklace and simple diamond stud earrings.
"Now do you have any other jewelry? Bellybutton piercing? Toe rings? Nipple rings?"
Hazel eyes grew to the size of saucers and the blonde shook her head.
"Alright. This time, I'll take your word for it. But if we notice anything suspicious, you'll have to go through a strip search. Are you sure there's nothing else?"
Quinn nodded, her hands fisting in the hem of her blue scrub shirt.
"Just a few more things and I'll take you to your room."
After being poked and prodded more than she cared to admit, Quinn was taken to a room on edge of a big, circular wing of the hospital. Her room had no door. That combined with the too bright fluorescent lights overhead made her feel even less like a human.
She felt like a lab rat.
There were three other beds in her room, each on opposite ends of the room. A communal bathroom with a privacy curtain was in the middle of the far wall.
"You can put your things in the drawer," a nurse told her, pointing to the small bedside table.
Quinn looked down at the plastic covered toothbrush and the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner that resembled those of a hotel.
Hah. But this is no hotel, Quinnie.
The bed felt too solid underneath her. The blankets too thin.
"Dinner is at six. Showers are at eight. You can have someone bring you your own shampoo and conditioner so long as it's unopened. There's a phone by the nurse's station. I'll let you settle in now."
Quinn nodded mutely and stared at her slipper-sock covered feet as the nurse retreated from the room.
"The first night is always the worst."
Quinn spun around and found herself eye to eye with a short brunette.
"Once you get used to being able to sleep with the lights on, it's much better," the brunette said, extending her hand.
Quinn's brow furrowed as she looked from the girl to the toiletries in her hands.
"I'm Rachel," the girl said, cautiously dropping her hand to her side. "I sleep in the bed next to yours."
The blonde looked over her shoulder at the bed behind her. A blue, flowery blanket was folded at the foot of the bed.
"… What's your name?" Rachel ventured, eyeing the blonde warily.
"Quinn."
"Well. Welcome to the psych ward, Quinn."
A/N: I'm not sure if I'll continue this so I make no promises, but I like the idea for now. Please review.