The Beautifully Tortured

There were better things Dean could be doing with his time, and sitting in a waiting room twenty minutes before his appointment was not one of those things. He hadn't even planned on going to this appointment today but then Sam had shown up and to prove that everything was alright, he had forced himself to leave home and suffer through something which he did not need.

As if to add salt onto his wounds, the twenty minutes seemed to drag on for hours and by the time Doctor Novak appeared in the doorway, he was ready to admit defeat and head back home. However, he didn't find himself that lucky and was instead heading into the now familiar room with the doctor.

"For a moment I didn't think I'd be seeing you again, Dean," the doctor said as they sat in the same chairs they'd occupied in the last session. "We were getting somewhere and then you just suddenly don't show for our fourth session. Is there a reason for that absence?"

Dean rubbed a hand over his face. "I had a bad week, Doc," he said, not wanting to elaborate any further but after almost a minute had passed and there had been no reply from the doctor, he knew it was expected of him. "I don't talk about my childhood because to be frank, I ain't ever gonna be a kid again. It's all about life being a bigger bitch than Sam now, so I guess I remembered too much in our last session and needed a break."

The doctor nodded, jotting down any important bits that he thought were necessary. "Is that an endearing term?" he asked to which Dean nodded. "Carry on."

"There ain't nothing left to say. I thought about something for too long and I, well--"

"Couldn't take it?"

"I guess," he muttered, avoiding looking at the doctor straight on. This was not something he was comfortable with but the damn doctor seemed intent on getting something out of him which he did not appreciate at all.

Doctor Novak placed his journal down on his lap. "Would you care to elaborate on how you had a "bad" week? What made it worse than any other week?"

Dean sighed, rubbed a hand over his face and sat back in his chair. He didn't know where to start because he didn't want to start anywhere. Some things were better off left unsaid, something which he fully agreed with because the memories that seemed to suddenly appear were not pleasant at all. In his subconscious, he knew that some memories from his childhood had been pushed right to the back of his mind because he did not want to think about them at all in order to progress with his life, but the damn task the doctor had got him to do in the last session seemed to stir his mind and he began to remember certain events that occurred when his father was away and both he and Sam were left with a family friend.

"Sam seems to think that I drink too much," Dean began.

The doctor cut across. "And do you?" he asked.

He shrugged. "Not really. But I ain't touched more than one beer a day for so long so when we had our last session, I dunno, I just felt so tired so I went to a bar and ordered a beer. Just one beer, although then this blonde came over and that turned into a few shots. On the way home I got some more beer and really, didn't leave the place unless it was for beer. Or pie," he added, shaking his head at how bad it sounded as he said it.

After a few moments of him scribbling in his journal, the doctor studied Dean. "Do you consider yourself an alcoholic, Dean?"

"No," he objected.

"Does Sam?"

"Sam, Christ, he thinks the worst of things, which why we're currently in this room together."

Doctor Novak nodded. "Would you like to discuss what you remembered after our last session?" he asked, expecting a little reluctance, but instead he was greeted with a blunt answer that held no room for bargaining.

"No."

"Can I ask why?" he prompted.

Dean leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Look, Doc, some things just don't get spoken about. Some things not even Sam knows about and as much as I love these little gossip sessions we have, this ain't something you share with people," he explained, his tone sounding less and less friendly with his words.

Seeing that he wasn't going to change his answer, Doctor Novak changed subject. "When was the last time you had a good night's sleep?"

There was a groan from Dean. "What's that got to do with anything?" he grumbled.

"Just answer the question, Dean."

"A few days ago maybe. I don't keep track of how long I sleep for because I have other things to do with my life," he retorted.

The doctor frowned at his reply. "You have bags under your eyes."

"Glad you noticed," he snapped.

"Must you always reply sarcastically to something that you don't like?" Doctor Novak sighed. "It was merely an observation that I made of you because you look tired, almost as if you haven't been sleeping well for a while. I cannot help you if you choose not to be open with me."

Dean rolled his eyes. Why would he want to be open with a doctor? He hadn't been open with someone for years, and the last person he had been open with was Sam while they were kids and he didn't know as much as he did now. Of course he wouldn't be open with Doctor Novak because that would leave him vulnerable, and if there's one thing that Dean is not, that's vulnerable.

Almost as if he sensed Dean's thoughts, the doctor continued speaking. "We've already touched upon your anger which you seem to have taken in your stride because I haven't seen the anger displayed in the previous sessions today. What harm would it be to touch upon other problems that you have?"

"I'm not talking about anything else," Dean snapped, narrowing his eyes at the doctor. "I think this session is over with. I've told you about stuff that's happened since we last met and you've spouted nonsense that means nothing to me – that's everything covered, right?"

It was clear that there was going to be nothing else productive with this session, and with a quick glance Doctor Novak saw that there were only four minutes left of their session, so he nodded at Dean. "I'll see you next session, Dean," he said.

"Whatever," Dean replied as he stood from his chair and left the room. He thought that some people were just too damn nosy for their own good, even if they were paid to be nosy like Doctor Novak. There was just some hope in him that all the pre-booked sessions would run out sooner rather than later and allow him the privilege of not going without feeling terrible about wasting Sam's money. He shouldn't have booked the damn sessions in the first place but that was Sam, always doing things he shouldn't be doing.