Chapter Text
Drew felt sick as he groggily opened his eyes. The bright fluorescent lights and the white ceiling immediately gave him a headache, so he shut them again. Once he had adjusted to the unfamiliar environment, Drew attempted to look around again, confused as to where he was. Realisation finally set in when spotted all of the drips and hospital shit next to his bed. Looking down at his arms, Drew saw they had been fully bandaged, with some hoses sticking out of the crook of his elbow and the front of his hand. Memories flooded back into his brain, and a panic set in as he realised the situation. Shit, he had survived.
Drew wasn’t aware of how much time passed, but a nurse walked into the room and gave him a big grin.
“Oh, you’re finally awake!” She said in a happy voice, but Drew just scowled. The nurse ignored his expression and walked over, a clipboard in her hand.
“Now, do you know what your name is?” She asked kindly.
“Drew.” He replied, rolling his eyes at the stupidity and humiliation of the situation.
“Okay, just a few more questions.”
After about 15 minutes of the nurse torturing Drew with constant questions, she finally left him alone. Drew sighed, pinching the end of his nose hard. He had a horrible feeling in his gut, a horrible sensation taunting him that he had survived, and would now have to face the consequences. The nurse told him his ‘incident’ was only a couple days ago, and his arms were still killing. Feeling sick, Drew swallowed bile as he tried to think about literally anything else, but to no avail. Before he could call for anyone, he leant over the rail on his bed and hurled onto the floor, making a disgusting splatting sound as he wretched. Once he had finished, he wiped his teary eyes and pushed the button to call for someone.
Once he had been cleaned up, Drew was brought to his first appointment with ‘Dr Stapleton’. Apparently he was supposed to tell Drew more about his treatment plan and how long he’d have to stay, blah blah blah. He was dropped off, and sat on a plastic chair in a colourful waiting room. The walls were covered in paintings of animals and fairies dancing in forests and fields, and it just made Drew feel even more pathetic and childish.
Finally being called into the doctor’s office, Drew sheepishly entered, and a tall man with wearing a suit greeted him warmly.
“Ah, Drew, is it?” Dr Stapleton smiled, gesturing for his patient to take a seat, and Drew obliged while giving a nod in response.
“So, from what I’ve heard… a couple of days ago you attempted suicide?”
The question was answered with a simple shrug.
“And why did you do that, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Drew frowned. He had so many reasons, but at the same time he couldn’t think of any.
“Um. I don’t know.”
Dr Stapleton raised an eyebrow, before replying,
“Well, there must have been a reason.”
After being met with silence, he tried a different tactic.
“Did you feel feelings of depression and hopelessness before the attempt?”
“Well obviously.” Drew scowled, rolling his eyes at the doctors question. If he wasn’t feeling depressed then he obviously wouldn’t have taken all on those damn pills.
After answering more questions about his lifestyle, home situation and friendships, Dr Stapleton finally moved on.
“So, Drew, we will be keeping you in the hospital until we are sure you’ve improved and can be trusted to stay at home. We also won’t be able to discharge you until your parents are back from their.. uh..”
“They’re on a business trip.”
“Right. We can’t discharge you until we meet with your parents.”
Dr Stapleton placed his clipboard down on his desk, wheeling his expensive looking office chair closer to the sofa Drew was seated on.
“You’ll meet up with a psychiatrist every week for a therapy session, and it’s not negotiable.” He added when Drew opened his mouth to protest. “You’ll also be started on antidepressants, Prozac to be specific.”
Drew gave him a glare, and with that their meeting ended and Drew was escorted back to his room. He had no phone, so he flicked mindlessly through shitty TV channels until his food was brought to his room. Flimsy plastic cutlery was all he was given, and he could feel the nurses eyes watching him closely as he used the knife to cut up his disgustingly dry slice of chicken. It was extremely uncomfortable. After he had eaten, he was given some pills to swallow, still being observed carefully.
Once the nurse was satisfied he had actually swallowed, and not just hidden the red pill under his tongue, she took his tray and left the room.
Drew was once again left to his own, boring devices. He lay down on his side, fiddling with the end of the bandages and thinking about how the hell he was going to explain this situation to Henry and Liam, especially when he doesn’t have a phone. He’s still pretty pissed with them, but they’re the only friends he has. Honestly, he doesn’t really want them to know. It’s a humbling experience, to go from the feared school bully to some scared teenager stuck in a psychiatric ward. Not that Drew would admit he was scared, hell no.
He daydreamed for a while, thinking about nothing in particular until his meds stared to kick in, and Drew was hit with overwhelming drowsiness. He tried to fight it and stay awake, but he realised with nothing better to do he might as well just sleep. Eyelids fluttering as he lay his head against the stiff pillow, Drew finally fell asleep.