Day 38 - Doctor's Office 3 [Dr. Kisugi] [Second Shift]

[damned_doctors]

It was her first day of work in a new facility, but Dr. Makiko Kisugi wasn't feeling nervous at all. To the contrary, all she felt was a sense of anticipation, an eagerness to see what opportunities might arise in a place such as this.

She was far from home, though, and so painfully new that she'd not dare take too many liberties as yet. As

Comments

[theroadsofar]

[Ack, anonymous was me. Could we delete that one?]

"Therapy". What a joke. First getting stuck in some joint that had a 5-to-1 guy-to-chick ratio and now he was getting sent off to therapy. Talk about beating him over the head with the irony. He guessed he was supposed to talk about his feelings or that time he stubbed his toe as a kid and how that crap was supposed to come back fifteen years down the line. Dean rolled his eyes as he stood outside the door, Hello Nurse raising her hand to knock. Sammy might've gotten a kick out of therapy but all he could think about was how big a waste of time this was.

Nevermind this could be a trap. But Dean wasn't so sure; if they wanted to kill him, there was plenty of damn chances. What were they waiting for? Seemed more like they were trying to get him uncomfortable and disoriented.

He'd just have to disappoint them.

Stepping into the office, Dean automatically scoped it out as he sauntered in, bandages and all. Within a second of stepping across the doorway, he'd picked out some vantage points in a fight as well as a hostage: the doctor was a woman, a pretty hot one too, and he wasn't sure who'd be a better lay, her or Hello Nurse. Both of them looked kind of like they wouldn't be too enthusiastic, and while he was pretty sure he could overpower her, he wasn't gonna be able to take on her, the nurse and her orderly pal. He'd have to keep playing it safe.

Without asking, Dean casually flopped down in the seat across from Doctor Makiko Kisugi (according to her perfectly positioned plaque) and deliberately shoved his chair a little off center as if getting more comfortable. The hunter beamed at his therapist, flashing white teeth.

[damned_doctors]

...well. Now there was an entrance. The bandages were somewhat unexpected, and Makiko gave a mental sigh of annoyance at the nurses who hadn't bothered to update the files before her patients arrived. She was only supposed to be treating these people.

Ah, well. It wasn't as though she particularly cared about Eric Derringer or whatever unspecified tendencies had caused him to end up injured. Picking fights with other patients, perhaps? He didn't seem like the self-injury type to her.

Makiko nodded a faint acknowledgement to the nurse as the woman departed, then turned a critical eye on her new patient. Not exactly the kind of person she looked for, but not so irritatingly sweet as to be uninteresting. And should she grow bored with his ramblings, there were a few interesting cracks in which to pry.

For now, though, she merely gave him a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr. Derringer. Or do you go by Eric?" According to his file he liked to go by "Dean" but she didn't care to indulge in a patient's delusions. "I'm Dr. Kisugi, and I've been assigned to be your doctor during your stay here. How are you feeling today?"

[theroadsofar]

Dean almost snorted out loud when he finally heard his "real" name. Rick Derringer. Cute. It was almost a name he would've used as a cover way back when. The corner of his mouth did quirk at the name, amused, as he leaned back in his chair, not quite slouching, and wondered if he'd get away with kicking his feet up on the desk. Dean half-expected her to slap his feet off if he did try. Did look damn tempting...

"Eric's good," Dean said smoothly; it wasn't the first time he'd had to pretend to be someone else, although usually he had some kinda warning before he had to start winging it. "I'm feelin' okay, I guess. Except for this whole mummy thing," he motioned at the bandages on his arms and part of his neck, flicking a glance at her for her reaction: he didn't expect pity but he did wonder what they told her, if anything. "Or were you asking if I was bouncin' off the walls psycho? I mean, y'know, seein' where we are," he added, gesturing at the walls.

If there was anything he was used to, it was people acting like he was crazy: funny, wouldn't you know it, but they didn't really like being told that what did go bump in the night was real and could chew you up and spit you out in the time it took to say "oh hell". By now, Dean had settled himself into the stiff plastic waiting room chair as if he owned the thing, legs sprawled out and his head tilted a little, his lip curling a little sarcastically. Going through the "you're crazy, son" speech seemed almost laughably normal and out of place.

[damned_doctors]

If the man was looking for some kind of reaction, he was destined to be sorely disappointed; Makiko's expression didn't change at all as he spoke or gestured toward the bandages. She'd returned to her usual calm not-quite-smile after the greeting, and only nodded slightly as he spoke. One might even think the doctor was entirely bored with the proceedings.

"I was asking how you were feeling," she replied, absently tapping her pen against the arm of her chair. "How you choose to answer the questions is entirely up to you, Eric. After all, these sessions are for your benefit, are they not?"

Whatever he was feeling certainly didn't involve a lack of confidence, not from the way he'd obviously taken possession of her chair like that. At least, that was what he wanted her to think; there were some vaguely intriguing contradictions involved, but she wasn't sure they were worth pursuing just yet.

[theroadsofar]

Dean shrugged. "Okay, sure, we can do that. I'm pretty sure the pig-in-a-blanket I had for breakfast is givin' me cramps, the bandage here," he pointed at his forehead, "is itchin' like a mother and I'm wonderin' just what's the point of talkin' about how I feel."

He said that last bit like it was something as useful as underwater basket weaving. Dean had been blown off by his share of chicks - a guy didn't always score - and he was getting a positively glacial vibe off Doctor Kisugi. She didn't seem too impressed with him. Now wasn't exactly the place to try to get laid, he knew, and anyway, he probably had a better chance with the nurse than with this chick: she wasn't exactly looking down at him but he definitely wasn't imagining the professional distance she was doing a good job at maintaining. It wouldn't be as easy as empty promises and a night in the nearest motel to get on her good side. He could live with that. What he didn't like was getting stuck here in something that would've pissed him off even before all this Cold Oak bullcrap.

Dean kept on the game face. He still didn't know if she was a demon playing nice or if she was a regular human who really did think all of this was real. All he knew was he was stuck alone in a room with her and that alone was making him antsy.

[damned_doctors]

So he wanted to play self-assured and unaffected. Very well, then. "The point is that I'm here to help you get better, Eric. If you don't wish to cooperate, there's very little that I can do for you." Makiko's smile widened slightly as she regarded her patient, but it never touched her eyes. "If you don't wish to talk about how you feel, perhaps we could talk about the feelings of those who are waiting for you at home?"

She stilled the absent pen-tapping, reaching out instead to flip a couple of pages in his file, as though checking on some details. He wouldn't miss the significance of that, she was certain, and wondered how he would react. "You do want to return to them, do you not?"

[theroadsofar]

Dean's expression remained the same, but his eyes flicked down to follow the doctor as she reached out and rifled through a couple of pages in a file - his file, he assumed. The only reaction at her words was a faint tightening of his casual smile, even as he shrugged.

"You tell me," Dean said. He did mean it, though - if he was supposed to be impersonating someone or pretending to be this Eric Derringer, it'd help to know the details. As of right now, all he had to play along with was the name and the fact he was "supposed" to be in a mental institute and therefore unhinged. He pushed the seat back a little more, the legs of the plastic chair scrapping on the floor, and got more comfortable, settling down like she was gonna read him a story.

He did concede one point: if he brought up Sammy, maybe he'd get clued in on if he was here or outside of Landels. "Been really lookin' forward to seeing my brother, though, now that you mention it."

He didn't name names; for all he knew, Sammy was saddled up with his own alias or this doctor was fishing for that kind of detail. Dean made it no secret he was checking out the doctor even as she studied the file, knowing he had about an icecube's chance in hell and not caring.

[damned_doctors]

"That would hardly be productive, though," Makiko replied, in a gently chiding tone. The scrape of the chair legs against the tile floor elicited a faint, almost unnoticeable flicker of irritation, visible if he was watching closely - such annoying sounds were entirely unnecessary and out of place. Still, she continued speaking without missing a beat. "If I tell you how you should think or feel or be, then how would you ever learn to recover?"

At Eric's mention of his brother, she glanced down toward the file again, skimming a finger along the text until she paused at a particular line. "Are you? I'm not so certain that he'd agree, after the last time he saw you." She kept watch on him from the periphery of her vision as she spoke, wondering if he'd prove himself to be amusing or no. "Your mother, though, was more who I was thinking of. She was quite upset by your...breakdown."

[theroadsofar]

Dean did snort out loud this time. What, was he pissed he'd gotten there too late? Was that what she was trying to say? Dean didn't say anything at first, although it was clearly a sore spot for him that he hadn't gotten to Cold Oak in time to save Sammy. Or did he somehow know about the deal? Honestly, how could he? He'd been with Sammy for maybe a few hours before they'd driven off to Bobby's, it wasn't like there was a whole lot of time there to get really suspicious and put two and two together.

Still, other that that, he couldn't for the life of him figure out what he was supposed to have done to piss off Sammy that much that he wouldn't want to see him.

Assuming this wasn't some elaborate trick in the first place...

And then there was the mention of Mom. Dean's smile did fade at this despite himself; if Sammy was a sore subject, his Mom was another. What did she think she knew about Mom? Hell, what was there to even know? She'd been dead since he was a kid and he'd be damned if some stuck-up frosty bitch with a Ph.D was gonna tell him "Mommy Dearest" didn't love him enough when he was little. She was talking like she was alive, which was such a load of crap - he had to tell himself to chill out and remember this wasn't really him, but some unlucky bastard called Eric Derringer, whose family might very well be still alive. Dean had made such a rookie mistake, getting too lost in all the details and taking them personally.

The darkening expression on his face lightened as he took a second to pick at his bandages, inspecting them for some imaginary lint, and then looked up.

"Guess I must've blacked that part out," Dean said, remembering this time to fish for information. His tone was neutral, despite the new rueful smile. "The breakdown, I mean."

[damned_doctors]

There, a reaction. Eric wasn't as strong as he believed himself to be; they never were. Everyone had their weaknesses, the little cracks in their psyches where it was so very simple to prod and pry and twist until they squirmed and did exactly what you wanted them to. Not that he'd be terribly useful to her, not in the way that she wanted.

Still, though, it was a way to pass the time.

She glanced up at him again, one brow lifting just slightly. "Did you?" Her fingertip tapped against the file as she considered. It was always far easier to just get the patient talking, let them ramble about whatever inane concerns they might have. This one, however, seemed far more interested in letting her talk.

"I suppose that the events that led to your attempted suicide would have been quite traumatic," she replied, with some vague pretense at a concerned expression. "You remember none of that?"

[theroadsofar]

Dean shook his head. That much was true, he was pretty sure if he really had tried to off himself, he'd remember; granted, there was a lot of times he'd almost died, but that was the downside of hunting - the shit hunted right back and sometimes it got you, sometimes it didn't. Unless she meant the deal...which, he now that he thought about, was pretty much as good as suicide, just with an expiration date in a year. And it was guaranteed, there wasn't any way to botch it or get out of it or hope someone called 911 on your sorry ass.

Still, he didn't consider that really suicide. He'd done it to save Sammy and he'd do it all over again if he had to 'cause there was no contest between their lives. It wasn't like he'd got pissed his favorite TV show got canceled and that the next logical thing to do was to start carving up his wrists.

"Nope, none, Doc," Dean said cheerfully, although he was probably laying it on a little thick now. Dean didn't crack easily but he'd be lying if he said Doctor Kisugi wasn't starting to get annoying. Everything she did seemed so irritatingly deliberate, from the way she was tapping his file to the concerned expression on her face. "Kinda like startin' over though, not remembering."

[damned_doctors]

"I suppose it would be." Makiko leaned back in her chair again, leaving the file sitting open, though it was arranged and neatly aligned with the desk's edge. It was entirely possible for someone to blank out a traumatic event, and according to his file, Eric had managed to blank out almost his entire life. It seemed plausible enough that he was telling the truth by claiming he didn't remember, though the way he was acting now made her wonder.

Well. If he wasn't going to be cooperative, she might as well try to amuse herself. At least, as much as was possible without attracting...attention.

She regarded her patient for a moment longer, then changed tactics, recalling how she'd managed to get a reaction earlier. "I see that you remember other details of your life, though. Your brother, for instance, and your mother. What about your fath--ah, no." She flicked a glance toward the file again and shook her head slightly. "My apologies, I hadn't read closely enough."

[theroadsofar]

Dad. She just had to bring up Dad. The man was almost a year gone but Dean knew he hadn't even begun to get over losing him; he supposed he should feel closer now that they both earned tickets to Hell, but he didn't.

He felt angry. It'd been pissing him off from day one, when Dad leaned over his hospital bed and whispered his instructions about Sammy. Now that he knew the truth about how he'd suddenly keeled over dead, he wanted to shake him, yell at him all over again. It didn't make sense, Dean knew, but he couldn't help feeling that way. Maybe, he thought sarcastically, I'll get a chance in Hell to ream him good. But he knew there was also a part of him, a big part, that wanted nothing more than to see Dad again just like he remembered him, even the parts that always fought with Sammy and didn't tell him what was going on. Dean grit his teeth behind a tight-lipped smile, jaw working slightly.

Why did he get the feeling Doctor Kisugi was trying to rile him up?

Looking at her, he saw she was just gazing at him with that same disinterested, politely medical look.

"He's dead," Dean said, and was surprised his voice was level. "I was there when he died. Not much more to tell other than that.

[damned_doctors]

Not much more? Makiko arched one brow just slightly, giving the man a look that conveyed mild disbelief. His reaction had been fairly easy for her to see, even if he had managed to keep it out of his voice. "Perhaps. But clearly it affected you, Eric. A parent's death is never an easy thing to deal with."

She reached over and made a note on the file, the gesture seemingly idle even though each word was formed with neat and careful precision. "Your mother believes that you took it hard. That perhaps it was part of what drove you to...act as you did. What do you think?"

It was all so tedious, really. Patients with strange delusions and problems that in no way concerned her. Baiting them was mildly amusing, but when they weren't even worth feeding from, there wasn't too much point.

[theroadsofar]

"I'm thinkin' you're way off the mark, sister," Dean said. He spread his hands on the armrests, as if going you serious. "I wouldn't go around slashin' up my wrists or whatever because of that. I mean, I loved the guy, but that's not me."

Not when Sammy needed to be looked out after. If Kisugi had just switched Dad for Sammy, then she would have been creepily right on the ball there, only it had happened that way, it wasn't just speculation by some armchair Ph.D who thought she was hot shit. Dean wasn't proud of how he'd treated Bobby a few days ago but he'd meant every word he'd said to the other hunter back in that shack, with Sam's body only a room away: he hadn't cared what happened, and if the world burned, it wasn't his problem. Part of him still wasn't sure if it was because it was terrified he'd lose Sammy all over again hunting that yellow-eyed sonuvabitch...but Sammy was committed to the hunt and he sure as hell wasn't gonna let his brother go after the thing solo.

"So what's your story?" Dean asked, as if they hadn't been talking about suicide and dead parents. He reached out with a "may I?" for her neatly positioned pencil jar and took it without waiting for an answer, inspecting it idly as he lounged back in the plastic waiting room chair. "Obviously you're smart, attractive, and it looks to me you're bored outta your skull. I'm guessin' this wasn't your idea."

[damned_doctors]

"Tried to stab yourself in the chest, actually," Makiko corrected almost absently, her attention still ostensibly on the file in front of herself. "Of course, this was after you'd abandoned your brother to fend for himself in the middle of nowhere, while going on about...hmm." She paused, flipped back a couple of pages, then continued, "A monster that was making you imagine your life. Fascinating."

She glanced up as the man appropriated her pencil jar, giving a brief frown but not bothering to try to stop him. It only held a few rather ordinary-looking pencils (all at the same perfectly sharp point, of course) and a couple of pens, twins of the one she began to idly tap against her desktop again.

"My story?" The doctor looked him over again, eyes narrowing just slightly as she did; for an instant she looked more like she was assessing a piece of meat than looking at another human. She wanted (needed, with a desperation bordering on ravenous) to toy with him, to taste his blood, but it was an impulse that couldn't be indulged here. Not now. Not yet.

The moment passed quickly, though, and she continued, her voice calm as she forced the violent urge back into submission once more. "We're not here to speak about me, Eric. I'm here to help you." Some might have actually believed the smile she gave there, if they weren't looking too closely.