SBHNH: Hi guys *Smile*
I am still working on my Fours a Family series, don't you worry, but I started this on the side. It's Faberrittana (What else?) and it is a lot more angsty and serious than my Fours a Family series, just because I'm an angsty person *Smiles again*
So yeah,
Enjoy *Grins*

P.S.: Feel free to point out any mistakes, this is un-BETA'd, so all mistakes are mine *Smiles yet again*

Have Fun!

I used to work here. How did I end up in this situation? I sighed as I walked into the family room, knowing that there would be no-one there to see me, but it was better that sitting alone in my room and brooding. There were happy families all around, re-assuring patients that everything would be fine and that they were to focus on getting better. I rolled my eyes. I knew those patients. One was a severe schizophrenic, one side was sweet and innocent (And rather dim to be honest) And the other side was evil and conniving and was someone to be avoided. There was another who had such severe anger issues that she spent an awful lot of time in a straight-jacket. She had bitten me once, I still had the scar. And the third was a girl who was severely Paranoid and was on suicide watch. Just like me. Except I was Depressed, not Paranoid.

I sighed again, the family room just beginning to aggravate me, so instead I wandered back to my room and sat with my book, curled up in a chair, humming softly to myself. I was on an alright day today, no serious desire to do anything stupid, but nothing was keeping my attention, and I placed the book down and started pacing. The back and forward motion helped. It was structured. Easy, nothing to worry about.

Back.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.

On and on, not stopping. That was until a nurse burst into my room.

"Quinn. What are you doing?" She asked, standing in the doorway. I kept pacing, not looking at her as I answered in a flat, monotonous voice.

"I'm pacing."

Back.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.

Don't stop. No matter what. Don't stop. Keep going.

Back.
Forward.
Back.
Forward.

"Quinn, stop this." The nurse caught my arm as I turned away from her, halting me. I span round, glaring at her, angry that she had stopped my movement. I wrenched my arm out of her grip and looked at her, absent-mindedly scratching at my arm.

"Whats wrong with me pacing?" I asked, still scratching. The nurse caught my arm away, stopping me scratching. I looked down to find blood trickling down my arm.
"Whoops." I giggled, unable to help myself.

"Quinn, have you been taking your meds?" I thought back. No I hadn't. But I nodded anyway. I was fine, nothing wrong with me, I didn't need meds, I just needed to be out of here, that's all. The nurse raised an eyebrow.
"Come on you. It's time for your group therapy anyway." I rolled my eyes, but followed the nurse anyway, going along with the charade. She made a quick stop at the first aid room to bandage up my scratches before depositing me at the group therapy room.

I rolled my eyes and mentally berated myself for getting caught pacing as I sat down, next to the Paranoid petite brunette. She gave me a glance before looking at the girl on her other side, the Latina with anger issues. The Latina smiled and took the brunette's hand. My eye's widened. No-one had been able to touch that girl, not even the kindest of nurses, and yet here she was, quite comfortably holding hands with this girl. I was shocked, but reigned it in. What business of mine was it now that I was a patient just like them. After a few more minutes of waiting our new therapist arrived. He was a man, which was unusual, and he looked like he had half a pound of grease in his hair and was wearing a vest instead of the usual white coat, but he looked nice, almost trustworthy. Which was very very strange for a therapist. He sat down, straddling the chair and faced us.

"Hello there. My name is Dr Schuester, but you can all call me Will. Now, I'd like to go round and for everyone here to introduce themselves if possible, and tell us why you are in here." I swallowed, and THIS was why I didn't want to do group therapy. There was a Bi-Polar called Noah Puckerman and someone who didn't know why he was in here, called Finn Hudson.

"I'm Brittany Pierce, and I'm here because I have a split personality." She smiled innocently, so it was the nice one at the moment. Then it was the Latina.

"I'm Santana Lopez, I'm in here because I apparently have 'anger issues', which I wouldn't if people stopped pissing me off." I almost laughed.

"I'm Rachel. And I'm Paranoid." I noted that she didn't say her last name. She really was paranoid.

"I'm Quinn Fabray, I'm 'Depressed' apparently." I rolled my eyes, doing on air quotation marks when I said depressed. That was it at the moment, very few others in here were safe enough to be around other people. Which was fine by me, the less people I have to deal with, the better. 'Will' smiled and nodded.

"Right, well, in case you haven't noticed, I'm not one for normal methods of therapy. So in this session, and all other sessions with me, we will be singing. Now before you all raise your eyebrows and scoff, its quite simple. You sing a song that means something to you, whether it be something small, like you like lie ins, or something big, like the reason why you are in here, or what your dreaming about when you get out. Either way, you sing it. Now, We aren't really going to do anything else within this session, so feel free to chat within yourself, however I do want you to be thinking about a song for next weeks Glee therapy session." I rolled my eyes. What a lame fricken name. I could think of a better name in my sleep for christs sake.

But I suppose I was stuck, so I started to think of a song, and I think I may have one.

SBHNH: Love it? Hate it? You tell me! I need Reviews to live people! Do you want me to die?