The Beautifully Tortured
Session Eight
Dean sat with his head resting on the steering wheel of his car. He'd been sitting there for the past half an hour despite his appointment not being for another twenty minutes. Sam had called twice within that time frame, probably to remind him about the appointment, but he hadn't answered the phone. There were times when Dean just had to be alone, and this was one of those times. Not even talking to Sam would help because what was plaguing Dean was something that no one other than himself knew about, and he'd rather suffer with it alone than admit it to anyone.
After another few minutes in the car, he'd had enough and got out of the car before heading into the waiting room that he'd become so accustomed to. The secretary smiled at him when she looked up. "Good afternoon, Dean," she greeted before looking back at the computer screen.
However, he didn't sit down like he normally did and instead approached the desk that she sat at. "How many more of these sessions do I have?" he asked, startling the woman and making her look up shocked.
"Oh, let me just check." She clicked several times on her mouse as she search for the appointment schedules she kept. "Including today's appointment, there are ten more booked under your name."
He really couldn't believe Sam had booked that many appointments. Hadn't he been to enough already? "Is there anyway you can cancel those appointments?"
The secretary blinked in surprise. "You want me to cancel all ten appointments? Including today's?"
"That would be nice." Dean massaged the side of his head as he leaned on the desk. Originally he was just going to not turn up to any of the appointments that'd been booked but then he figured he might as well stop by the place and cancel them in person, not only so he could find out how many Sam had booked behind his back but also so that he wasn't faced with any hindrances that phoning could cause.
For a moment, he thought she was doing what he asked until she looked back at him and furrowed her eyebrows as she surveyed his face. "Let me just get Doctor Novak," she excused, rising from her chair and moving from behind her desk.
"You know, forget it," he said, pushing away from the desk and making to head out of the waiting room. He had barely made it two steps before the door to Doctor Novak's office was open and the secretary was pointing at him.
"Dean?" the doctor asked, surprise evident in his voice.
"Doc," he acknowledged. "Did your secretary tell you that our time together has reached an unfortunate end?"
Doctor Novak pursed his lips and gestured for Dean to enter his office. "I think we need to talk."
"No, I'm alright, Doc."
"I insist, Dean," the doctor said firmly, watching as the man begrudgingly entered his office. Luckily he had a break between his sessions otherwise Claire wouldn't have been able to get him so easily. Doctor Novak closed the door behind him and turned to look at his patient. "Please answer this question honestly. Have you been drinking?"
Irritated, Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "What's it to you?" he snapped.
"Just answer the question."
With reluctance, Dean replied, "Maybe one or two."
"If you had to take a breathalyser right now, would you pass?"
"So what if I didn't?" he retorted, realising that he came at the worst moment to cancel his remaining sessions.
Doctor Novak paced over to the seat he normally sat in and motioned for Dean to sit down as well. "I cannot let you drive away from here if you are drunk, and as any decent therapist would do, I don't want to see you walk out that door and not come back."
Dean rolled his eyes in irritation at the doctor and perched on the seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, geez, Doc, I didn't realise you valued our time so much," he replied sardonically. All he wanted to do was just talk to the damn receptionist and cancel his appointments because he didn't need them anymore, and if he continued to attend them Sam would ultimately find out that maybe he wasn't being so truthful in terms of how much he was drinking as of recently. The two nightly beers had somehow spiralled into double digits, and not to mention the regular attendance at the bar close to his home.
"I'm concerned about your well-being, Dean. These past few sessions you've been different from the first session we had together, and I think it all goes back to the memories that you said are coming back. You're unwilling to speak to me about them, I understand that much, but I cannot help you if you won't let me know what makes those memories so bad that you had to repress them to begin with, and why they're causing you so much pain and discomfort upon remembering them." The doctor observed the man, watching to see whether his words affected him in any visual way, but like most of the time, he was guarded and kept a straight face.
Stubbornly, the man sat back in his seat and stared at the doctor. "I'm not talking about it."
The response annoyed Doctor Novak slightly but he didn't let it show, instead he swiftly changed subject. "Okay then, how about we talk about why you decided to come in before our normal session time and try to cancel our appointments. What made you choose today of all days?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't need these sessions, Doc. I don't need to talk about what I'm feeling and what happened in my childhood to make me so protective of Sam," he replied.
"But you appear to need to be intoxicated to act on it?"
"Listen, I might have had a few drinks today but I am not drunk. And so what if I am? Sam already thinks that I'm an alcoholic so I might as well act the way he thinks."
"You previously said that you weren't an alcoholic," Doctor Novak reminded, referring back to their fourth session. "And just because someone thinks the worst doesn't mean you have to make it a reality. You have a choice as to whether you try and ultimately dismiss that opinion or whether you give in just for what appears to be the simpler option."
His finals words seemed to have an effect on Dean because he pulled a face full of disbelief. "You think giving in is the simpler option? Clearly you have never been in a situation where the two options plague you – the first one means that everything you've worked for to keep in, to forget, will spill out, and the second one means you're able to remain in control, able to keep everything in check and most of all, not ruin someone else's life who does not deserve that crap. So, Doc, next time you think 'giving in' and masking memories with alcohol is the simpler option, just think about what could be so bad that it needs to be kept in," he spat before standing up.
Quick to follow, Doctor Novak placed a hand on Dean's arm. "I cannot let you leave if you intend to drive."
"I'll phone Sam," he snapped, shaking the hand off.
"We still have twenty minutes of our original session time remaining."
Dean turned at the door and stared at the doctor. "Go home early then." And before Doctor Novak could reply with the question burning on his lips, the man opened the door and said, "I'll see you next week," before leaving the office and exiting the waiting room.
He wasn't going to be phoning Sam, but he had learnt that alcohol and the therapist did not bode well. He'd just have to keep himself in check next time.
After another few minutes in the car, he'd had enough and got out of the car before heading into the waiting room that he'd become so accustomed to. The secretary smiled at him when she looked up. "Good afternoon, Dean," she greeted before looking back at the computer screen.
However, he didn't sit down like he normally did and instead approached the desk that she sat at. "How many more of these sessions do I have?" he asked, startling the woman and making her look up shocked.
"Oh, let me just check." She clicked several times on her mouse as she search for the appointment schedules she kept. "Including today's appointment, there are ten more booked under your name."
He really couldn't believe Sam had booked that many appointments. Hadn't he been to enough already? "Is there anyway you can cancel those appointments?"
The secretary blinked in surprise. "You want me to cancel all ten appointments? Including today's?"
"That would be nice." Dean massaged the side of his head as he leaned on the desk. Originally he was just going to not turn up to any of the appointments that'd been booked but then he figured he might as well stop by the place and cancel them in person, not only so he could find out how many Sam had booked behind his back but also so that he wasn't faced with any hindrances that phoning could cause.
For a moment, he thought she was doing what he asked until she looked back at him and furrowed her eyebrows as she surveyed his face. "Let me just get Doctor Novak," she excused, rising from her chair and moving from behind her desk.
"You know, forget it," he said, pushing away from the desk and making to head out of the waiting room. He had barely made it two steps before the door to Doctor Novak's office was open and the secretary was pointing at him.
"Dean?" the doctor asked, surprise evident in his voice.
"Doc," he acknowledged. "Did your secretary tell you that our time together has reached an unfortunate end?"
Doctor Novak pursed his lips and gestured for Dean to enter his office. "I think we need to talk."
"No, I'm alright, Doc."
"I insist, Dean," the doctor said firmly, watching as the man begrudgingly entered his office. Luckily he had a break between his sessions otherwise Claire wouldn't have been able to get him so easily. Doctor Novak closed the door behind him and turned to look at his patient. "Please answer this question honestly. Have you been drinking?"
Irritated, Dean crossed his arms over his chest. "What's it to you?" he snapped.
"Just answer the question."
With reluctance, Dean replied, "Maybe one or two."
"If you had to take a breathalyser right now, would you pass?"
"So what if I didn't?" he retorted, realising that he came at the worst moment to cancel his remaining sessions.
Doctor Novak paced over to the seat he normally sat in and motioned for Dean to sit down as well. "I cannot let you drive away from here if you are drunk, and as any decent therapist would do, I don't want to see you walk out that door and not come back."
Dean rolled his eyes in irritation at the doctor and perched on the seat, resting his elbows on his knees. "Well, geez, Doc, I didn't realise you valued our time so much," he replied sardonically. All he wanted to do was just talk to the damn receptionist and cancel his appointments because he didn't need them anymore, and if he continued to attend them Sam would ultimately find out that maybe he wasn't being so truthful in terms of how much he was drinking as of recently. The two nightly beers had somehow spiralled into double digits, and not to mention the regular attendance at the bar close to his home.
"I'm concerned about your well-being, Dean. These past few sessions you've been different from the first session we had together, and I think it all goes back to the memories that you said are coming back. You're unwilling to speak to me about them, I understand that much, but I cannot help you if you won't let me know what makes those memories so bad that you had to repress them to begin with, and why they're causing you so much pain and discomfort upon remembering them." The doctor observed the man, watching to see whether his words affected him in any visual way, but like most of the time, he was guarded and kept a straight face.
Stubbornly, the man sat back in his seat and stared at the doctor. "I'm not talking about it."
The response annoyed Doctor Novak slightly but he didn't let it show, instead he swiftly changed subject. "Okay then, how about we talk about why you decided to come in before our normal session time and try to cancel our appointments. What made you choose today of all days?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't need these sessions, Doc. I don't need to talk about what I'm feeling and what happened in my childhood to make me so protective of Sam," he replied.
"But you appear to need to be intoxicated to act on it?"
"Listen, I might have had a few drinks today but I am not drunk. And so what if I am? Sam already thinks that I'm an alcoholic so I might as well act the way he thinks."
"You previously said that you weren't an alcoholic," Doctor Novak reminded, referring back to their fourth session. "And just because someone thinks the worst doesn't mean you have to make it a reality. You have a choice as to whether you try and ultimately dismiss that opinion or whether you give in just for what appears to be the simpler option."
His finals words seemed to have an effect on Dean because he pulled a face full of disbelief. "You think giving in is the simpler option? Clearly you have never been in a situation where the two options plague you – the first one means that everything you've worked for to keep in, to forget, will spill out, and the second one means you're able to remain in control, able to keep everything in check and most of all, not ruin someone else's life who does not deserve that crap. So, Doc, next time you think 'giving in' and masking memories with alcohol is the simpler option, just think about what could be so bad that it needs to be kept in," he spat before standing up.
Quick to follow, Doctor Novak placed a hand on Dean's arm. "I cannot let you leave if you intend to drive."
"I'll phone Sam," he snapped, shaking the hand off.
"We still have twenty minutes of our original session time remaining."
Dean turned at the door and stared at the doctor. "Go home early then." And before Doctor Novak could reply with the question burning on his lips, the man opened the door and said, "I'll see you next week," before leaving the office and exiting the waiting room.
He wasn't going to be phoning Sam, but he had learnt that alcohol and the therapist did not bode well. He'd just have to keep himself in check next time.