Nine Kinds of Crazy

Dean sat behind the couch plugging his ears. The news was on. Normally they didn’t allow the news since people found it upsetting. But today it was on for the weather. But he heard it, right before the commercials, “What really happened to Dick Roman on 60 minutes.” Every time he heard the name he cringed. Sam used to ask and ask and ask if he remembered, but he didn’t. Dean felt he should know the name though.
Castiel sat next to him. He sat in silence and didn’t even acknowledge Dean. Sam was in group therapy too which was making Dean more anxious. He wanted Sam and to ask and to make it all go away. But Cas sitting there felt better and it kept Andy away. She was watching him from across the room. Dean was resisting yelling at her.
“Maybe he sounds familiar because Sam said his name so much?” Dr. Cartwright offered Dean and he shrugged.
“But it makes my spine tingle and I feel sick and tense like I wanna punch him in the throat whenever I hear the name. Sam practically begged me to remember him and I couldn’t. There was a list of names and events that I didn’t remember. Like I’d been in a coma or a car crash and hit my head really hard,” Dean explained. Castiel turned to look at him, but said nothing.
“What was the last thing you remember?”
“The last thing that happened. Ellen and Jo …” he trailed off. “And then I was just in a field screaming. Something had to happen. Sam said it was a hunt, but I don’t really remember that. It was dark and then it was just daylight. No sunrise, just blinding light like I was crawling out of the earth.”
“There are holes though right? In your memories about Ellen and Jo?” she asked and Dean shrugged again.
“Don’t think about it,” he muttered and she waited. He gave in and said more, “Sometimes it feels like there’s someone else there or was. It’s like a blurry image and I can hear him, but I can’t remember what he said or what his purpose was. But it’s as if he’s been erased out or something, but not completely? Like someone did a half assed job tampering with my memories.”
“So someone did mess with them?” Dr. Cartwright asked and Dean frowned.
“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore,” he huffed realizing she’d caught him. Occasionally, on nights that weren’t wrecked with guilt and nightmares, he’d think about what Sam said and indulged the thought that there might be parts missing. But everything was such a mess right now and if there were holes then maybe he was better off without the knowledge. If anything he wanted to leave here and go somewhere where they didn’t tell him that his dad’s death was an accident or whatever bullshit they fed him. “What are you thinking about?” Dean asked Cas who was staring at him still.
“Do you love me,” he said and Dean scrunched up his nose.
“What? I met you like a day ago,” he said and turned back to see if Andy was still watching him. She was and she was writing something down. He narrowed his eyes and wanted his ears to stop feeling hot.
“The song,” Cas added and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Could’ve fucking said so,” he mumbled and started crawling towards where Sam was in group therapy. It was almost time for him to be done. Cas stood and followed him. He groaned and rested his head on his hands.
“Stop following me,” he muttered.
“Where are you going?” Castiel asked.
“Why are you so chatty now? Go watch TV,” Dean said still kneeling on the floor with his head in his hands against the floor. Castiel instead sat next to him and Dean didn’t move hoping he’d leave but he wouldn’t. “Go away,” Dean whined quietly.
“Sam?” Castiel asked ignoring Dean’s request.
“Yeah Sam,” he muttered. He could feel Andy’s eyes on him now. The door to the therapy room opens and he opened his eyes and saw he was looking at Sam’s shoes.
“What are you doing now Dean?” he asked and Dean made an attempt to shrug and the rubbed against his legs like a cat.
“Waiting,” he said and Sam crouched down. Dean sat back on his heels and saw that Sam looked sad and that made him concerned. “What’s wrong?!” he demanded and Sam’s expression altered.
“Nothing Dean, nothing you need to worry about,” Sam insisted.
“Bullshit,” Dean hissed and Sam shook his head.
“Honestly Dean,” he said and got up walking to the couch. Dean stood and hurried after him and groaned when Cas followed. Dean sat next to Sam.
“What did you talk about in there?” Dean asked. Maybe that was what was making Sam sad.
“Nothing, just stuff,” Sam said absently and starring at the TV which now had a nature program on.
“Like what,” Dean pried starting to feel anxious. He had this itching feeling that since Sam was so quiet that he’d been talking about him. He hated when Sam talked about him more than when Sam talked about dad or their mom or Ellen or Jo or even Ash and the Roadhouse. “Was it about me?” Dean hissed clenching his fists.
“Dean shut up it wasn’t about you,” Sam said sounding tired.
“Then what!” Dean snapped and Andy looked up and a few other people in the room, including Castiel, jumped. “What?” Dean repeated in a softer voice. Sam just sighed.
“You don’t remember it Dean and they said it’s better if I stop trying to force you to remember,” he said and Dean felt his insides squeeze and tense up. He hated Sam talking about him and he hated not remembering. It was getting hard to breathe and he gaped at Sam. “Dean stop, please don’t do this again,” Sam said and bit his lip.
“Don’t fucking talk about me Sam,” he grunted.
“Dean …”
“I said don’t! You’re the one with the fucking demon blood problem!” he shouted and Sam’s eyes went wide.
“Dean-“
“Don’t think I don’t remember that! Is that what you hoped I forgot?! All that shit with Ruby behind my back! If anyone needs to be talked about it’s you!!” he screamed and Andy appeared and took his shoulders.
“You have three seconds to call down Dean,” she said and he wrenched out of her grasp gasping. He felt like he was suffocating. He glared at Sam.
“This whole mess if YOUR FAULT!” he screamed and Andy wrenched him off the couch and dragged him down the hall screaming and trying to get away from her. She went into his room with him. Sam half wondered if he should get up and try to contain Dean. He hadn’t expected him to go off like that, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to tell Dean that he’d spent group therapy talking about Bobby and how much he wished they’d been able to do more to save him. He snapped out of his thoughts when he watched Cas suddenly lean forward like he was going to puke.
“Cas!” he shouted in alarm, but he held up his hand.
“Head hurts … loud. Angry,” he murmured sighing.
“I’m … I should have tried to keep him quiet,” Sam said and Castiel shook his head.
“Don’t Sam,” he said quietly. Castiel sat back up slowly and seemed to turn all his attention to the TV, so Sam looked back at Dean’s room where he could still hear Dean yelling.

“Dean you need to calm down,” Andy said again. She was standing in front of the door. Dean was standing in the middle of the room screaming and threatening her. He felt like if he were to stop screaming he’d drown. He felt like he was suffocating and his screams became panicked. He started hyperventilating and pacing and gasping. He tore his shirt off. He felt like his clothes were squeezing him. “Okay now Dean, Dean I need you to sit down,” Andy said taking his wrist and guiding him to the bed. She sat him down and handed him a paper bag. “Can you breathe into this? It will make you feel better,” she said softly and he stared at her with wide eyes panting. “Come on you can do it,” she encouraged taking the bag and unfolding it and putting it back in his hands. “Come on just like we’ve done before,” she said and leaned him forward. “Shh Dean use the bag and try to calm down,” she murmured getting a basin off the shelf. Out of all the panic attacks Dean had worked himself into, six of them made him vomit. She crouched in front of him. “Come on Dean,” she said holding the basin. He breathed into the bag slowly and was soon breathing hard gasping and very slowly relaxing. After about a minute though he was throwing up and tears were running down his cheeks.
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy,” he groaned.
“I’ll go get him if you breathe into the bag Dean,” Andy said and Dean obeyed and she went out with the basin and Sam was in the room instantly.
“Shut the door,” Dean said and Sam shook his head.
“She said don’t,” Sam said and Dean whined and flopped back on his bed. She was coming back then. “Dean,” Sam practically begged and Dean rolled his eyes and breathed into the bag. Sam sat next to him and Dean immediately curled against him pressing his forehead against Sam’s hip and fingers grasping his shirt. “Dean,” Sam sighed rubbing his brothers’ back.
“I try,” Dean sobbed quietly. “But I can’t remember what you say I can’t remember.”
“I know Dean and it’s okay. That’s why you’re here,” Sam said and got up moving Dean into his bed the right way.
“No!” Dean struggled to sit back up and Sam gently pushed him back down.
“Just rest okay. I’ll come get you for lunch,” Sam promised and Dean reluctantly nodded and wrapped the soft blanket around him and turned to face the wall. Sam left and shut the door. He felt nauseous. He wanted and longed for the normal Dean back, but the doctors said he shouldn’t get his hopes too high. Years of traumatic events and stress had finally cracked him and sometimes the damage was permanent. Sam knew that this was the safest place for Dean … and maybe it was time for him to leave and move on. Castiel, crazy or not, would still be with Dean even if they couldn’t remember each other. Perhaps he’d be able to help Dean more from the outside. Dean wouldn’t like it, but Sam couldn’t waste away his life here. No matter how much he wanted to be with Dean there was no guarantee that Dean would go back to the brother Sam knew and Sam couldn’t sit around waiting.