SPN Fic: Appointment in Savannah, Part Three
Word count: 966
Genre: crack
Rating: PG-13 for language
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Dr. Penzance
Summary: Dean's therapy sessions continue. Castiel shows up and says something unfortunate about their "profound bond."
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own these people??
“Good afternoon, Dean.”
“Good afternoon, Dr. Penzance.”
“Any progress on the cotton gin?”
“Sam thinks so, but all I know is that these dumb tourists keep putting their heads into it, the lid clamps down and they’re dead. It’s in a history museum with an alarm system. We’ve thought of burning it, but so far we can’t figure out a way to get through the alarms and gank the thing.” Dean shook his head. “A fucking cotton gin. The racist truck, that was bad enough, but a cotton gin? I didn’t even know what one was two weeks ago!”
Once again, the subtle odor of Georgia peaches wafted into Dr. Penzance’s office. The only sound, beyond the rustling of the leaves, was the white noise machine on the soft beige carpet. The doctor, as always, was composed, placid. He did not take notes for the obvious reason: it would get him killed. But it was clear that the cotton gin was not really what was bothering Dean.
“So, we were talking about your father forcing you to take care of your little brother-“
Dean stiffened. “It’s my job to keep Sam safe! That’s why I’m on this earth, to keep Sam safe!”
“We’ve already talked about the consequences of Sam deserting you. If your father had stayed with you, do you think things would be different?”
“No,” Dean said sullenly.
“Why not?”
“He was one scary dude. I would have had to keep Sam safe from Dad. Same either way. It’s my job.”
Dr. Penzance steepled his fingers in that annoying way he had. “So, you are saying you cannot visualize a life where you are not taking care of your brother?”
“What’s the point?”
“Imagine...imagine if you had grown up without the responsibility of caring for another human being. Imagine you had no little brother, that you were your own individual self.”
“Too late for that, doc.”
“Give it a try. Just sit back, relax, and let your mind wander.” Dr. Penzance smiled. “I’ll be right here, no monsters will get you.”
“No little brother...” Dean forced himself to lie back in the brown leather chair and closed his eyes. “No little brother...” his voice faded. Suddenly Dean’s face contorted with unhappiness, and tears ran down his face. He snapped back up. “Do you know what, doc? It would be great!”
“Really, Dean? You surprise me. You love Sam."
“I know. I know. I love Sam. He's my blood. But maybe everything would be different.”
“Could you play the tuba?”
“Damn-damn straight I could play the tuba! I could have been in band! Oh my god, if only I’d had one week of normal childhood-“ Dean was again about to be overcome. Suddenly Castiel was standing next to him.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Pardon me,” said the doctor, “but I’m in the middle of a session. Can you call back later?”
Castiel’s look was even more impassive than the doctor’s, if such a thing were possible. “No.”
Dean blew his nose. “Why are you here, Cas? Dr. Penzance, this is Castiel. He’s an angel of the Lord.”
“Hello, Dr. Penzance. Is Dean sick? I can cure him.”
“He is not here because of physical illness, er, Castiel. Dean Winchester is here to talk privately. Now, if you will excuse us...”
Castiel gazed down at Dean. “I’m puzzled. You talk to me. Is this man a relative?”
“No, he’s a therapist. A dude who talks to people.”
“But everybody talks to people. Except me.”
“Cas, he’s not a witch doctor, he’s not a demon, he’s a trained, professional therapist. Now, flutter your ass out of here, my hour isn’t up yet.”
Castiel gave Dr. Penzance the stinkeye, and slowly the angel sword slid down into his hand. “You only have one hour?”
“Not like that, Cas! I have an hour-“
“45 minutes, Dean.”
“45 minutes to talk to Dr. Penzance.”
Castiel sat on the arm of Dean’s armchair. “It is clear that I must watch over this conversation. It sounds dangerous.”
“No, you can’t watch!” Dean snapped.
Castiel tilted his head, a hint of a smile on his face. “I can be invisible, you know.”
“All right, all right, you can watch. What are you doing here?”
Castiel hemmed and hawed, glancing at Dr. Penzance. “You know that profound bond I mentioned?” he said in a low voice. “I’ve been feeling that you are in great pain. I thought I could help.”
The doctor sat up straighter. “Profound bond, Castiel? What sort of bond?”
“Between Dean and myself.”
Dean rubbed his eyes with his hand. “Oh, jeez, Cas...”
“Are you lovers, Castiel?”
Castiel looked away. “Not in the physical sense.”
“CAS! Come ON! We’re not lovers in any sense, doc, he’s my angel. And I don’t mean he’s my angel, I mean he’s my angel. Angel buddy. As in a non-romantic, we can date anyone we want kind of way.” Dean glared at Castiel. “Cas, did you have to blab about our ‘bond’?”
“I’m sorry. From this day forth our bond is a secret.”
“DAMMIT, Cas! Doc, he’s an angel, he doesn’t get how humans talk, he always sounds like a dumbass.”
“I’m the one who gripped you tight and saved you from Perdition,” Castiel muttered.
“Not going there, Cas.”
Dr. Penzance looked from man to angel and back again. “Castiel, that was a very good thing you did, saving Dean from Perdition. And your instinct to protect your, er, friend is laudable. But by being here, you are breaking doctor patient confidentiality-“
“He means leave!”
Castiel stood. “Is that what you truly want, Dean?”
Dean looked like he was going to punch someone in the face. “YES!”
And Castiel was gone.
“You think for one fucking moment, Cas would leave me alone!”
Dr. Penzance tapped his lower lip. “Dean, perhaps you and Castiel should come in for couples counseling.”
Genre: crack
Rating: PG-13 for language
Characters: Dean, Castiel, Dr. Penzance
Summary: Dean's therapy sessions continue. Castiel shows up and says something unfortunate about their "profound bond."
Disclaimer: Do I look like I own these people??
“Good afternoon, Dean.”
“Good afternoon, Dr. Penzance.”
“Any progress on the cotton gin?”
“Sam thinks so, but all I know is that these dumb tourists keep putting their heads into it, the lid clamps down and they’re dead. It’s in a history museum with an alarm system. We’ve thought of burning it, but so far we can’t figure out a way to get through the alarms and gank the thing.” Dean shook his head. “A fucking cotton gin. The racist truck, that was bad enough, but a cotton gin? I didn’t even know what one was two weeks ago!”
Once again, the subtle odor of Georgia peaches wafted into Dr. Penzance’s office. The only sound, beyond the rustling of the leaves, was the white noise machine on the soft beige carpet. The doctor, as always, was composed, placid. He did not take notes for the obvious reason: it would get him killed. But it was clear that the cotton gin was not really what was bothering Dean.
“So, we were talking about your father forcing you to take care of your little brother-“
Dean stiffened. “It’s my job to keep Sam safe! That’s why I’m on this earth, to keep Sam safe!”
“We’ve already talked about the consequences of Sam deserting you. If your father had stayed with you, do you think things would be different?”
“No,” Dean said sullenly.
“Why not?”
“He was one scary dude. I would have had to keep Sam safe from Dad. Same either way. It’s my job.”
Dr. Penzance steepled his fingers in that annoying way he had. “So, you are saying you cannot visualize a life where you are not taking care of your brother?”
“What’s the point?”
“Imagine...imagine if you had grown up without the responsibility of caring for another human being. Imagine you had no little brother, that you were your own individual self.”
“Too late for that, doc.”
“Give it a try. Just sit back, relax, and let your mind wander.” Dr. Penzance smiled. “I’ll be right here, no monsters will get you.”
“No little brother...” Dean forced himself to lie back in the brown leather chair and closed his eyes. “No little brother...” his voice faded. Suddenly Dean’s face contorted with unhappiness, and tears ran down his face. He snapped back up. “Do you know what, doc? It would be great!”
“Really, Dean? You surprise me. You love Sam."
“I know. I know. I love Sam. He's my blood. But maybe everything would be different.”
“Could you play the tuba?”
“Damn-damn straight I could play the tuba! I could have been in band! Oh my god, if only I’d had one week of normal childhood-“ Dean was again about to be overcome. Suddenly Castiel was standing next to him.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Pardon me,” said the doctor, “but I’m in the middle of a session. Can you call back later?”
Castiel’s look was even more impassive than the doctor’s, if such a thing were possible. “No.”
Dean blew his nose. “Why are you here, Cas? Dr. Penzance, this is Castiel. He’s an angel of the Lord.”
“Hello, Dr. Penzance. Is Dean sick? I can cure him.”
“He is not here because of physical illness, er, Castiel. Dean Winchester is here to talk privately. Now, if you will excuse us...”
Castiel gazed down at Dean. “I’m puzzled. You talk to me. Is this man a relative?”
“No, he’s a therapist. A dude who talks to people.”
“But everybody talks to people. Except me.”
“Cas, he’s not a witch doctor, he’s not a demon, he’s a trained, professional therapist. Now, flutter your ass out of here, my hour isn’t up yet.”
Castiel gave Dr. Penzance the stinkeye, and slowly the angel sword slid down into his hand. “You only have one hour?”
“Not like that, Cas! I have an hour-“
“45 minutes, Dean.”
“45 minutes to talk to Dr. Penzance.”
Castiel sat on the arm of Dean’s armchair. “It is clear that I must watch over this conversation. It sounds dangerous.”
“No, you can’t watch!” Dean snapped.
Castiel tilted his head, a hint of a smile on his face. “I can be invisible, you know.”
“All right, all right, you can watch. What are you doing here?”
Castiel hemmed and hawed, glancing at Dr. Penzance. “You know that profound bond I mentioned?” he said in a low voice. “I’ve been feeling that you are in great pain. I thought I could help.”
The doctor sat up straighter. “Profound bond, Castiel? What sort of bond?”
“Between Dean and myself.”
Dean rubbed his eyes with his hand. “Oh, jeez, Cas...”
“Are you lovers, Castiel?”
Castiel looked away. “Not in the physical sense.”
“CAS! Come ON! We’re not lovers in any sense, doc, he’s my angel. And I don’t mean he’s my angel, I mean he’s my angel. Angel buddy. As in a non-romantic, we can date anyone we want kind of way.” Dean glared at Castiel. “Cas, did you have to blab about our ‘bond’?”
“I’m sorry. From this day forth our bond is a secret.”
“DAMMIT, Cas! Doc, he’s an angel, he doesn’t get how humans talk, he always sounds like a dumbass.”
“I’m the one who gripped you tight and saved you from Perdition,” Castiel muttered.
“Not going there, Cas.”
Dr. Penzance looked from man to angel and back again. “Castiel, that was a very good thing you did, saving Dean from Perdition. And your instinct to protect your, er, friend is laudable. But by being here, you are breaking doctor patient confidentiality-“
“He means leave!”
Castiel stood. “Is that what you truly want, Dean?”
Dean looked like he was going to punch someone in the face. “YES!”
And Castiel was gone.
“You think for one fucking moment, Cas would leave me alone!”
Dr. Penzance tapped his lower lip. “Dean, perhaps you and Castiel should come in for couples counseling.”