"Jaiden? Someone dropped off a bag for you." Jaiden sat up in her bed, where she had been watching the small television on the wall. She and Emily's nurse stood in the doorway to their room, holding up the duffel bag she had moved to Barden with.

"Oh," The 18 year old got to her feet and took her bag from the woman. Jaiden had been struggling just to stay awake after the long day she had endured, but this was enough to at least intrigue her enough to keep from vegging out again. She could feel Emily's eyes on her as she returned to her bed and sat cross legged next to her bag. The first thing she pulled out when she unzipped it was a piece of paper with Chloe's handwriting scrawled all over it.

Figured you could use some clothes and stuff to keep you from getting too bored! Stay strong in there and you'll be home soon. Love you!

"Is that from your sister?" Emily's voice caught Jaiden before she could roll her eyes and the older girl looked up from her note.

"Actually, her girlfriend. It's just clothes and stuff." Jaiden shook her head and rooted through the duffel bag. Her hands found one of her sweatshirts and she pulled it on gratefully. She had been freezing since they had gotten to the hospital and the thin blanket on the bed didn't do much to help.

"You didn't bring any when you got here?"

"They didn't give me much notice that I was getting dumped in this place." Jaiden grunted. She pushed the small stack of clothes out of the way and was surprised to find an old iPod Nano wrapped in a pair of headphones. She knew at once that Beca had been the one to put it in there. "Well, I guess some of it is from my sister."

"More music?" Emily asked timidly.

"Yeah. Here," Jaiden tossed the device across the room and over onto her bed. "I've probably heard everything already."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Your stress is stressing me out. Chill for a second." Jaiden smirked. She looked up again to see that the younger girl had definitely taken it the wrong way and sighed. "Sorry. My sister has anxiety. I shouldn't have been so insensitive."

"H-how did you know I have anxiety?"

"You don't hide it that well." Jaiden informed her gently. She watched her roommate blush and immediately felt bad. "But like, I pick up on it because I see my sister's symptoms all the time. And either way, everyone's a little jumpy here."

"So…what brought you here?" Jaiden looked up from her bag in surprise again and quit rooting through it. She was tired of talking about her issues, considering that's all she had done in the past 12 hours, but it was pretty obvious that Emily was fragile and probably just looking for a distraction.

"I said some stupid stuff and did some stupid things last night and I guess it made my sister think I was going to try to kill myself." Jaiden admitted. She pulled the last pair of sweatpants out of the bag and surprisingly found a picture at the bottom. Upon picking it up, she realized it was the one Beca had put in a frame on the mantle when they had moved in. Christmas, 2004; both of them were grinning under the tree in their matching snowflake pajamas.

"Jaiden?" She snapped out of staring at the photo and blinked at Emily in surprise a few times.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if you were going to…"

"Oh," Jaiden shook her head again. "No. Not last night anyways. I just snuck out and got drunk and she caught me when I came home. What about you?" She ventured. Emily froze up right away.

"Come on dude, you can't avoid it in here. That's kind of the whole point. And I personally think I'm easier to talk to than those assholes, so…" Jaiden let her voice trail off and arched an eyebrow. Emily shot a glance towards the mandatory open door and then crossed the distance between their beds. Jaiden moved over, a bit taken aback by the sudden intrusion into her personal space.

"I cut myself." Emily's voice was so low that Jaiden almost didn't hear her. And although she wasn't surprised in the least, Jaiden still felt the weight of the admission.

"You should really try to stop that. I've heard it isn't good for you." Jaiden told her with a wry smile. To her relief, Emily looked a little bit relieved.

"Okay. You should really try to stay alive though. I've heard dying is bad for you." The 17 year old ventured.

"Deal."

"I hope she's getting enough sleep there." Beca muttered as she scanned the paragraphs on her computer screen. "Do you think they monitor that?"

"I imagine they monitor just about everything." Chloe flipped the page in her magazine and resumed reading. The two of them had climbed into bed early that night, after a relaxing shower and take out on the couch.

"I hope so."

"Babe, come on, you had a good day. Don't ruin it by stressing out about her. She's in the safest place she can be." Chloe sighed. She reached across and closed Beca's laptop before the younger girl would work herself up anymore.

"Hey, I need to be educated about this stuff." Beca complained.

"You already are. What you need to do is let me help you relax and go to sleep." Chloe got up onto her knees and cracked her knuckles. "Roll over."

"I don't need a massage-"

"Yes you do." Chloe flipped the smaller girl onto her back and straddled her from behind. Beca gave in and crossed her arms under her chin. Satisfied, Chloe began to rub her shoulders firmly; feeling Beca relax under her touch. "Trust me when I tell you that everything is going to work out."

"You can't know that."

"Yes I can. The worst of this is over, Becs. It has to be." Chloe dug her hands into Beca's back harder and moved her thumbs in circles on either side of her spine.

"I hope you're right."

Mrs. Mitchell was not doing well; not by any means. The bills piled up along with the bottles, and more and more came in with her name on them every day. Some from Ted's lawyer, other's for the house, and a lot more from his funeral. She had put an ad for her truck on Craigslist, along with the few sellable items in her daughters' old rooms.

She had begun to dwell on her daughters again; specifically Beca. The police report had stated that she was the one who had pulled the trigger that had ended her love's life. And there had been no consequences for it. She had tried calling Jaiden a few times earlier, but she hadn't gotten an answer. Not that she was particularly concerned about her; she really just wanted an idea of their whereabouts.

"Murdering a man with no consequences." The middle aged woman mumbled to herself as she stumbled into the kitchen. The idea sounded even more absurd when she said it out loud. As Mrs. Mitchell filled her glass with fresh ice from the freezer, she glared at the old photographs stuck to the fridge. Ted had been right when he pressured her not to ask for custody. Back then, it had been more about sticking it to her ex-husband.

So Mrs. Mitchell was caught between blaming herself and blaming the girls. While the first option seemed more reasonable, the latter was far easier. It allowed her to sit and swelter in her anger, all the while getting drunk enough to keep her stationary on the couch. But it didn't stop her from scheming.

More drama ahead? Maybe, maybe not.