/Q/

They take me in a wheelchair to the seventh floor. The elevator is silent because I just don't know what to say. I swear it feels like everyone around me is disintegrating into a pile of dust. I was never this girl. I sigh and the woman pushing me looks worried, the elevator opens and she starts turning me around corners. Then I see a white door with a square window, we stop there. The door slowly cracks open and I get the tag around my wrist checked by a man in blue scrubs, he sadly smiles down at me, taking my wheelchair.
"I'm Rod." He says to me, "I promise you will hate it here." I can't help but laugh a little at the way he says this. "Anyways, that right there is the rec room. The tv is in there, a few board games, cards." He's gesturing to the room on my right, that has a few people cramped around the tv, and a boy sitting at the card table shuffling over and over again. I nod. "Then there's the showers, nurses station, cafeteria, and… this is your room." As he talks he's pointing and waving at different kinds of people. Nobody looks as crazy as I imagined.
"Who's that?" I ask him, and he seems surprised at my voice. I'm currently looking at the bed opposite of what Rod has said is mine. A woman with long, long black hair is lying with her eyes closed, her hands perfectly placed on her stomach.
"That's Mickey, your roommate." Roommate? I swallow hard and get out of the chair.
"Well, thanks." I tell Rod, giving him a small smile. He waves and steps out of the room. Now what do I do? I notice a bag of things lying on my bed, the fabric of the bag is familiar. There's a note from my mom on the outside, I toss it aside and open the bag. There are three t-shirts, a sweatshirt, and three pairs of sweatpants. No jeans? I look in the bag some more, but there's only underwear and toothpaste. I leave my things sprawled out across my bed and walk to the connecting bathroom, shutting the door. I want to scream. I want to cry. I want to take the sleeping pills that are in my mother's medicine cabinet and just sleep for hours and hours. But then there's a noise by my side and the woman with the long black hair is standing at the door shaking her head.
"You didn't lock the door."

/F/
My palms are all sweaty. I keep licking my lips. Santana is looking at me funny as we drink coffee together at a local diner. "Finn, you're acting really weird. Just tell me what's going on."
So I just start blabbing in my nervous, stupid way. I keep questioning the words that I'm saying and Santana looks annoyed.
"So she's in the loony bin?"
"Shut up, San."
"But she is?"
"Well, yeah."
"Fuck." Santana lights a cigarette, I keep wondering why she's smiling.
"Can you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?"
"Smiling!"
She smiles bigger.
"San. Stop. It's not funny."
"Why do you care so much? She broke your heart, Finn." She blows her smoke in my face, I feel it burn at the bottom of my lungs.
"Give me one of those." I jester at her cigarettes.
"You don't smoke." She says casually.
"I do now."

/Q/
Mickey sits on my bed and stares at me. "So, tell me." She says.
"Tell you what? Why I'm here?"
"No, no. Don't start there. Tell me everything."
There's way too much to say, I think; my mind drifting off as I speak words that have been in my head forever out loud for the first time. I tell her the facts. That I'm cheerleader that's pressured to stay skinny, pressured to have sex with the football players, to drink beer at parties and dance on tables. My chest tightens when I realize the things I'm saying aren't what really make me this way. It was that I wanted to be loved by more than one person. That I wanted Noah Puckerman to think I was sexy and not boring. I let him fuck me. I didn't push him away, I said yes. I liked it. Then I found myself peeing on a stick alone in the girl's bathroom weeks later. That was it. I was really alone. Nobody knew me how they should. My best friends didn't know me inside and out, but they thought they did.
"It's okay, don't cry." Mickey says, and I feel her wipe a tear away that I didn't know was there.
"Sorry. It's just, I never thought I'd be somewhere like this."
"None of us do. I've been here for three months, and I still think it doesn't make sense."
Three months? I don't want to ask her about it just yet, so I just nod, looking out into the hallway.
"Want to meet some people? They won't bite, I promise."
"Yeah. That would be nice." I follow her out of the room, looking at her hair sway by her waist; it's actually kind of beautiful.

/F/
I'm laying on Santana's bed now, watching her talk to Brittany on the phone. It's interesting to watch someone be in love, I miss that feeling. I sigh to myself and stare at the ceiling until I hear the whispered "I love you" Santana constantly uses when she talks to Brittany.
"How nice." I say, smiling. She hits me with a pillow.
I like having a best friend. I generally just like Santana. I like the way she tells me I'm stupid for still liking Quinn, I like the necklace she always wears with a silver bird in flight, I like the way that she isn't afraid to tell me the truth. This is why I ask her: "Do you think I should write to Quinn? I mean, I think if I was in that place…I'd want someone to write to me."
Santana sits up and I am afraid she'll hit me, but she only smiles, "That's a good idea Finn."
I decide to start right away.

AN:/
Sorry for the lack of Finn, but I really am enjoying writing Santana and his friendship that I thought would be interesting. I'm not really 100% sure about where any of this is going, but I don't want everyone to expect a huge romance between Finn and Quinn. Just a warning! This is a story about healing…with some help too of course. Anyways..review if you read please! xxGrace