A/N: I don't know if I should continue this. I'd appreciate it greatly if I could get some feedback, it's the first fic I've ever written, or tried to write anyway. So thanks for reading.
She remembers it clearly.
Think of it as the first time she made, what she at least considered to be, a grown up decision. Besides giving up Beth, but that's another story.
Alongside with a new haircut and the blur that were the last weeks of school, came summer and the realization that she couldn't keep up with whatever she'd been doing for the last months.
So she found herself sitting in a cold and way too hard to be comfortable wooden bench, just outside the door with the white number 10, a sign hanging from it, reminding her what she was doing here. Almost mockingly, she thought, and her grip on the bench became tighter and her knuckles whiter.
She hated hospitals. And the smell. And their people in the white coats and the sick people. But she had no choice whatsoever. She'd decided, all of her savings were going to this.
She could hear muffled voices coming from within but she didn't bother trying to decipher what they were saying, it's not like it was any of her business anyway. But it became her business as soon as the voices stopped, the door slowly opened, someone came out and left. And there she was. The woman in the white coat calling out her name.
'Quinn Fabray?'
She tried to steady her breathing and increasing heartbeat but to no avail.
And again the woman in the white coat, 'Is there a Quinn Fabray here?'
After releasing her death grip on the bench, she cleared her throat as to call her attention, and with whatever strength she had left, she got up and followed the woman into the office.
It wasn't anything like she expected it to be. What did she expect it to be?
It was mostly white. There was a rather messy desk and two chairs. A cabinet full of medications. No decorations aside from drawings, obviously drawn by children, hanging on one side of the wall, a litter on the other side. She came to the conclusion that this office was also shared with a pediatrician.
She'd never get the chance to take Beth to one.
She'd never get another chance with Beth.
She held back the tears and kept her face completely neutral, something she had perfected over the past few years.
She hadn't noticed the woman had sat down and was watching her every move while she inspected the room. She decided not to sit, at least for this one time. It's not like she really wanted to be here. But she had to.
She didn't talk either. She just stood there, leaning slightly against the litter. Observing the woman sitting across from her. I guess they were both doing the same thing. Trying to figure out what was wrong with, well, Quinn.
So that's how Quinn's first therapy session went.