Disclaimer: I don't own The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

A/N: In this chapter Columbia is rather out-of-character. That's intentional. Like Columbia, I usually talk a lot and act ridiculously cheerful. Very rarely I'll sort of shut down and my mind will feel numbed and blank. This chapter is written from such a point of view.

The day after the wedding I woke up earlier than usual.

Eddie and I had done what people usually do the night after they get married. Though, the next morning, I began to worry. I began to think about being 'stuck with one person', as Magenta said. What if I wanted to go back to that life or-

Suddenly, I heard Rosaline crying. She needed breakfast.

After putting on my dressing gown I went to her room.

"Shh," I whispered, as I cradled her.

Though it really grossed me out, I was still breast-feeding her. Unbuttoning my nightshirt suddenly repulsed me. It reminded me of when I used to joke around and flash people at Frank's parties.

Half the time I felt like a freak for all I'd done... yet sometimes I missed that freedom.

My mind felt numb. I felt like giving up. Poor little Rosaline needed to be looked after, but I suddenly didn't feel like doing anything.

Later, downstairs in the kitchen, I sat at the table and stared at a cup of coffee that I was going to drink. I'd forgotten to. Nothing mattered then.

Rosaline was now asleep in a portable cradle we'd bought so that she could be in the same room as me nearly all the time.

I kept reminding myself of her. Nothing seemed to matter... yet logically I couldn't abandon her. Guys don't know how to care for kids. Well, they do... but she needs a mother.

Later, when Eddie came downstairs, I still sat at the table.

"What are you doing? Columbia, dear?"

That's another thing. Now that he was a respectable young man he called me 'dear' instead of 'babe'.

"I don't know," I whispered.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking concerned.

"I don't know."

"What's going on? Why… why are you just sitting here?"

"I am."

"Columbia… something is clearly wrong. Please tell me."

"I feel blank."

And I did. Usually, I would be bored after seconds of doing nothing. Now time didn't matter. Everything was empty and numb…

"What's wrong with you?"

I didn't feel like talking. My mouth didn't feel like opening.

Then, Eddie left the room. I think he took baby Rosaline with him.

A while later, Eddie returned with his uncle and a doctor.

"She says she's feeling blank," Eddie said.

"Numb," I muttered.

"Oh? Well, I'm Dr. Lloyd."

The doctor held out his hand, though I didn't shake it. I didn't feel like moving. Was there a reason to?

"So, tell me... have you ever felt like this before?"

"You're a shrink," I muttered.

"I'd prefer if you didn't use that word, Mrs. Scott. But that's beside the point. What matters is that we figure out what's wrong. Let's start from the very beginning. I've got a list of questions for you. That should help us."

We then went to the living room. Dr. Lloyd sat in one of the armchairs while Eddie and I sat on the couch.

"Any drug or alcohol use in the past?" he asked, taking out paper and a ballpoint pen.

"Yes," I replied.

"She drank regularly and used to take a variety of drugs," Eddie elaborated.

Dr. Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Has she broken these habits?"

"Yes, she has. She wasn't ever an addict. It was just some, er, friends who were a bad influence. Though she hasn't seen... them in a while. They… went away… about six months."

"Jolly good! Drugs are never a good thing," Dr. Lloyd said cheerily.

Silence fell upon the room for a moment.

Dr. Lloyd cleared his throat. "Well, then. How have you been lately? Before the sudden 'mental numbness', that is."

"Vell, her vedding to my nephew vas only yesterday. Ze last few weeks have been quite busy for her, und ze rest of us!"

"And you were quite cheerful then. More cheerful than usual, in fact," Eddie added, putting his arm around me.

Dr. Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'cheerful'?"

"Vell… she vas very energetic, und seemed happy about everything. Zhat's how she alvays is, zough. Und she vas getting married."

"Anything else?" Dr. Lloyd asked.

"She wasn't sleeping very much over the last few days."

After a moment of staring thoughtfully at me, through his thick-rimmed glasses, Dr. Lloyd spoke. "I think she's got something we refer to as Manic Depression. This episode of depression is probably a result of you crashing after the hypomania you just experienced. I have a feeling that your use of drugs might've hidden any previous symptoms of the disorder. Anything out of the ordinary you attributed to that, correct?"

I nodded slightly.

A moment later the doctor left.

I'd be taking medicine now, apparently.

A/N: I admit that this isn't a very accurate portrayal of Manic Depression, I know she didn't really have any sort of hypomania in the last few chapters. The ending I've (finally) planned required this, however.

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