Third Wheel—

Summary: Sam thought that her life was as bad as it could have gotten, but she was wrong. Once she suddenly becomes the third wheel of her friend's newfound relationship, her feelings go out of control, and take a turn for the worse. Rated T for swearing, depression, and attempted suicide. One-sided Seddie. Rating subject to change.

Created By: The Color is Blinding

A/N: I felt like branching out for a change. I'm not sure if I really like it. Speaking of, I'm sorry if I've been posting this parts up here too fast. Do you want more parts faster, or slower? Anyways, here's a lovely little scene from what was happening inside of Westside Ocean View… from our own Doctor Lewis's point of view! Please review, and tell me what you're thinking of how this story's coming along.

Also, I thank StoryTeller125 for the marvelous words of encouragement and praise, and for the idea. It means so much.

Third Wheel

Part 9—

I hadn't been at the juvenile ward of Westside Ocean View for very long when I met Sam. I don't see why everyone else was wary when speaking of her. But almost immediately after I introduced myself, I could see why everyone else was so timid around the girl.

She was proud and rowdy, but even I could tell that she was broken inside. It's like something horrible happened to her, so she decided that it wasn't worth it anymore to live.

Of course, something horrible had to have happened for her to be put in this place because of attempted suicide. Though I don't think that the treatment methods actually do her any good. The only thing that might work, according to what she's told me, is actually returning to her home and working this out through her own means, not through someone else's feeble attempts to help her assimilate to normal living activities. But how can that even happen when she refuses to show up to her scheduled appointments with various "experts" of teen depression?

Personally, I question the legitimacy of her placement in this facility. No one in their right mind would have sent such a free spirit as Sam Puckett to this place without either a) wanting to get rid of her, or b) hallucinating. Not to mention, she has no living relatives. Her mother died months before she attempted suicide, and that wasn't the reason why. She specifically told her first therapist that she hated her mother, and was actually slightly happy that she had passed away.

Colonel Steven Shay, who was out serving for the U.S. Navy, had adopted Sam not too long afterwards. However, I don't think that he could have completely understood the situation enough to make the decision to send Sam here. Someone else must have influenced him to make the final choice to, as Sam says, imprison her.

But what do I know? I deal with eating disorders; that's my specialty. I couldn't help Sam even if I tried. But when I think about it, I could probably do a better job getting to the bottom of this girl's depression than anyone else here.

Or that could just be pride. And Sam said I always was full of myself. But I wouldn't know, no one else really bothers to talk to me.

::

I was in the dining hall, concentrating on not looking up at Sam. It was hard, considering that she was glaring at me the entire time. I felt bad that I never spoke with her anymore, but what I was ordered to do, I had to do. And when Westside's chief doctor, Dr. Gurney came up to me telling me to never to speak with that girl again, I had to obey, unless I wanted to be fired.

I had worked so hard to even be considered for this position. I was barely scraping by financially before, and now some of the weight was lifted off. I could not afford to loose this job. It was horrible. I was tied down to do what I had never wanted to do as a student: not help the people in need. That's why I decided to major in psychology, and in eating disorders. I felt like I could help so many people.

But once I got here, I realized the one person I felt like I could help was forbidden to me. These girls I council with, they know what's wrong with them, and they admit it. But Sam is a completely different matter.

She knows what's wrong, but she won't tell anyone. It's like she's locking herself up, so no one can hurt her. But who in their right mind would purposefully try to hurt a depressed girl?

I just want to lift some of her burden off of her shoulders.

I just want to help ease her suffering.

But I know I can't, and that's a mistake I know I'll have to live with.