Dental Hygiene for Dummies
Dental Hygiene for Dummies
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter a problem of the dental persuasion.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: This is perhaps the least angsty thing I have written in six months. Not that that's saying much. All because I had to go to the dentist over break and I firmly believe there's an opportunity for limpness everywhere. Thanks to Gem and Brenna for the beta and inspiration respectively.'
Dental Hygiene for Dummies
Dean liked to eat.
There were few pleasures in his life, and oftentimes food was just a rushed issue. Something from a gas station, or a greasy diner by a truck stop.
So when Dean found food he liked, he really liked to eat.
They had just finished a hunt in a small town in rural Kentucky. It had taken a good two weeks to finish, and they were tired. But the Mom and Pop diner down from the motel was unusually satisfying. It almost made all the stress of the hunt worthwhile. While Dean was glad to put that town behind them, he was going to miss the diner with all of his heart.
So when he bit down into his stack of pancakes, he expected pure joy.
What he got, instead, was pain.
A lot of it.
He chewed cautiously, testing his mouth to gauge the problem.
The pain persisted, stronger now, on his bottom right side.
"Dude, what's with you?"
Dean swallowed quickly and glared at his brother. "Nothing."
Sam's eyes bored into him. "Then why are you grimacing with every bite you take?"
Dean took a tentative bite, as if to prove Sam wrong. "I'm not."
"Whatever. You have a sore tooth?"
Dean snorted, trying to swallow without wincing. "It's nothing."
"It doesn't look like nothing."
"I think I can handle myself, okay? After all, I was the one who used to feed you and change your diapers."
Sam glared. "Fine. Just don't cry to me when you can't eat anything in a few days."
OOO
Dean knew his brother would jump all over it, but he couldn't bring himself to order anything solid. Sam said nothing as Dean ordered the steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, staring at him curiously as he ordered his own chicken sandwich and salad.
The waitress took their menus and left the brothers in silence.
Dean could feel Sam's eyes on him and he flashed a large smile, reaching to fiddle with the salt shaker. "Too bad the waitresses here aren't better looking here," he began, with a mischievous glance around. "Though the receptionist--she's kind of cute."
"Soup?"
It had been too much to hope for that Sam would let the subject slide. Dean tried to look nonchalant. "Got to watch the calories sometime," Dean quipped. "Don't want to get soft around the middle."
"Dean, if you're tooth is hurting you that bad, we need to deal with it."
"It's fine," Dean sighed in exasperation.
"Fine? Dean, you don't even like to eat soup when you're sick."
"So? A guy can change his mind."
"You always told me that soup was for wussies and girls."
"Yeah," Dean agreed with a grin. "Which is why you like it so much."
"Dean, come on, focus for five seconds."
Dean sat back in the seat with a noisy sigh. "What?"
"The dentist is no big deal."
"Then why don't you go?" Dean countered.
"We haven't exactly had the time, much less the money," Sam pointed out.
"And we still don't," Dean said, somewhat triumphantly. "So, problem solved."
"This isn't a checkup," Sam countered. "You could have an abscess. You might need a root canal."
"Since when did you know anything about teeth?"
"Jess' dad was a dentist."
"Really?"
Sam nodded. "Gave me checkups while I was dating her. Almost every visit we made that man was peering in my mouth, telling me about things."
"And you still dated her?"
Sam shot him a perturbed look. "My point is, a dentist can help you with that tooth."
"By what? Poking at it?"
"Drillings, filling--whatever. They can diagnose the problem."
"Drilling? Dude, no one's drilling in my mouth. No silver teeth for me."
"Would you rather have all the teeth fall out of your head?"
"I'm fine," Dean insisted.
Sam looked skeptical. "Sure you are," he agreed coolly. "Why don't you eat your soup?"
"Fine, I think I will," Dean snipped, picking up his spoon.
Sam's eyes never left Dean as he opened his mouth and forced the spoon in. Dean couldn't hide his wince as he swallowed hard, almost choking as it went down.
He put the spoon down on his plate with a clatter. "I'm just not very hungry," he muttered angrily.
OOO
Dean "wasn't hungry" for the rest of the week either. His soup orders got progressively thinner, until he was asking for plain chicken broth, with nothing in it. When he resorted to merely dumping water in his mouth, Sam decided to take action.
Back at the motel, Dean spied him poring through the yellow pages of the motel's worn phone book.
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for a dentist," Sam replied easily.
Dean reached to snatch the phone book away, but Sam preempted his movements.
"You need to get your tooth looked at."
"I told you, I'm fine," Dean seethed, a small pout tugging at his lips.
"You've barely eaten in a week. You're not fine."
"It'll go away."
"Right, when the tooth falls right out of your head."
"Dude, I can deal with it."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure you can. You going to pull the tooth out yourself?"
Dean shrugged. "Maybe."
"Have you ever seen Cast Away?"
"What?"
"Self dentistry with an ice skate?"
"What?"
Sam shook his head. "Never mind. Look, Dean, seriously, the dentist is no big deal."
"Then you go."
"I will," Sam agreed. "I'll go get a check up if you will."
"Whatever."
"What? I mean, if you're chicken, I'll be right there to help you through it."
"I'm not chicken."
"Good," Sam said with a triumphant grin, picking up his phone. "Then I'll just call and make us appointments."
Dean opened his mouth to protest.
"Unless you're scared," Sam added with a coy smile.
"Just make sure the hygienist is cute," he snapped before flopping back onto his bed to watch TV.
OOO
Dean didn't inherently trust people. Doctors usually garnered more trust than most, but that was because they often held his life (or more importantly, Sam's life) in their hands and they had years of schooling and an impressive vocabulary to back them up.
On some level, he knew that dentists also had years of school and quite expansive vocabularies backing them up, but a dentist had never saved Sam's life, so dentist never elicited that same implicit trust. Not that the thought a dentist would be malicious or evil or anything, but sticking your hands in someone else's mouth for a living certainly didn't sound very trustworthy.
Then again, Dean had never been in this much pain before without some known cause. Broken ribs, he could understand. They ached for weeks with no recourse. Stitches, usually, were more annoying than painful, and cuts and bruises were so par for the course that, at this point, he barely noticed them.
He'd been too sick to eat, too injured to eat, but never so hungry and so incapable of eating. It was like torture, to see the food, want the food, but not physically be able to chew it without a thousand little pain receptors flaring uncontrollably.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
That was the only reason he agreed to come with Sam. It wasn't because Sam had a point or because Sam was right. It was just the quickest way to eat again...and to end Sam's griping.
Which was how he ended up standing in front of Happy Teeth Family Dentistry, office of Dr. Charles Galli.
They pulled into the parking lot in silence, Dean sulking in the driver's seat while Sam eyed him every now and then, as if waiting for him to try to bolt. His kid brother seemed to be secretly enjoying Dean's plight, and his politeness carried a condescending air that Dean wanted to slap off his face, which he might have done had he not been in so much pain.
So much pain that he couldn't even muster a sarcastic comment when they entered in the doors into the waiting room painted with large smiling teeth on the walls. Dean slunk off to a chair next to a tooth shaped end table while Sam checked them in.
He didn't look up when Sam sat next to him, didn't even pick up a magazine while Sam flipped through old issues of Men's Health.
He didn't even look up when someone stood in front of them and said. "And you two must be...Sam and Dean?" the voice asked warmly.
Had Dean not been so lost in self pity, he might have noticed that the hygienist was a blonde, a young blonde at that, with a pretty smile and a knockout figure.
"Yeah," Sam answered for them, noting how Dean had slouched further in his seat.
"Great, my name is Maggie and I'll be cleaning your teeth today," she said. "Which one of you would like to go first?"
Sam glanced at Dean, who refused to make eye contact. "Is it, uh, possible for us to maybe go back together? Dean here has a little dentist anxiety."
Dean shot Sam a deadly look, but Maggie merely grinned with a knowing nod. "I think you two may be in luck today. We're a little slow, so I'll put you in the back room and pull back the curtain so you can see each other."
"Thanks," Sam said, rising to follow her. He glanced at Dean. "You ready?"
"Shut up and walk," Dean muttered.
OOO
The cleaning actually helped Dean unwind. Maggie was gentle and talkative, and by the end of his cleaning, he'd become fully aware that she was an attractive blonde and a Gemini. She was completely charmed by him, but that went without saying.
Sam's cleaning also went without a hitch, and through it, Dean learned she was single, lived with her cat, Rover (Dean laughed--he so appreciated the irony), and that she was hopelessly addicted to watching American Idol (funny, Dean was too).
Everything was going so well, that Dean nearly forgot he was at the dentist at all, until Maggie broke his heart. "Well, Dr. Galli will be in to see you shortly. And we'll do something about that sore tooth of yours."
Dean paled as she left and turned angry eyes at his brother. "I think maybe we should leave."
"We haven't even seen the dentist yet," Sam said.
"Our teeth our clean, we're good to go. I'm feeling much better already," Dean muttered sitting up in his seat.
"We are not leaving here until you get that fixed," Sam hissed back. "Now lay down."
"Dude--"
Dean was cut off when a middle aged man waltzed in. He was tall, with a slight belly and a well-trimmed beard. He had a pleasant face and friendly eyes. "The brothers Winchester, I may presume?" he asked.
Dean simply stared, a little like a deer caught in the headlights, and Sam answered for them both. "Yep. That's Dean and I'm Sam."
"Dean, Sam, I'm Dr. Galli. I'll just be giving you two the once-over to see what's going on in your mouths. Maggie tells me it's been awhile since you've been to the dentist."
"Just a year or so for me," Sam said. "Longer for Dean."
"Well, then, let's put you out of your misery, son," Dr. Galli said, moving toward Dean.
Dean shrunk back to the seat. "Maybe we could use a different cliche."
Dr. Galli simply smiled. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm sure I've seen worse. Now, open up."
Tentatively, Dean opened and the examination began. There was poking and prodding, which Dean supposed was well and fine, until the dentist hit upon his sore tooth. He nearly bit down on his hand in a reflex of pain.
"That's the tender one?" the dentist asked.
"Yeah," Dean said dryly. "Just a little."
"Hmm," he said, looking again. "I think we're going to need to get some x-rays on that one. But given the acuity of the pain and the symptoms you described to Maggie, it sounds like we may be looking at a root canal."
"A root canal?"
"Sounds scarier than it is," Dr. Galli assured him. "But it's easily fixable. Let's just get you x-rayed and we'll proceed from there.
OOO
An x-ray and further examination later, Dean was not so relieved to have the diagnosis confirmed. "It doesn't look too bad, though," the dentist assured him. "In fact, we've had some cancellations this afternoon. How would you like to get it taken care of today?"
"He'd love it," Sam answered readily.
Dean glared daggers at his brother.
"Splendid," Dr. Galli said. "Now, Sam, I do believe it's your turn."
"Whatever you say," Sam said agreeably.
Dean sulked while the dentist left his side for his brother. He watched in annoyance as Sam readily opened his mouth and the examination began.
"What a nice set of teeth," Dr. Galli commented as he poked in Sam's mouth. "You floss."
Sam nodded.
"And it shows. Very little plaque buildup," he said. Then he glanced at Dean. "You should take some pointers from your brother here on how to maintain healthy teeth."
Dean grunted and rolled his eyes. "Our job doesn't exactly lend itself to carrying a toothbrush."
"There's always room for dental hygiene."
Dean tried to imagine carrying a toothbrush in his pocket. Hey, Mr. Poltergeist, if you don't mind, could you just wait a minute while I brush my teeth?
No. It definitely didn't lend itself to brushing.
"Hmm," Dr. Galli said. "Looks like you've got a cavity here."
"Really?" Sam sounded genuinely surprised, and Dean's spirits piqued.
"Yep. On one of your molars."
Sam's defenses bristled. "But I brush three times a day. And floss."
Dr. Galli chuckled lightly. "Sometimes it just happens, son," he said. "You've got some deep pits in there."
"You mean Super Dental Hygiene Sammy has a problem?" Dean joked from the other chair. "Not possible."
Sam glared before smiling back up to the dentist. "Can we fix it today? Along with Dean's root canal?" He added more emphasis than needed on the last words and Dean shrank back in his seat with a furrowed brow.
"Sure. It's pretty small. We can fix it up, no problems."
Part of Sam still wanted to protest, but he felt his brother's eyes on him and he forced a smile. "That would be great."
The dentist nodded contentedly and set about to readying his things. "You're lucky we've got an open schedule today so we can just get these taken care of. The cavity will just take a minute, but the root canal might take a bit longer."
Dean tensed in his chair. "Longer? Like how?"
Dr. Galli chuckled. "Don't worry about it," he said. "They're very common. I'll numb both of you up so neither of you feel a thing."
Maggie and the dentist went about readying their things, leaving the boys to their own devices.
"So," Dean said. "A cavity, huh? Thought you had this dental thing under control, Sammy."
"It's just a small one. It's no big deal."
Dean nodded slowly. "Sure. You're looking a little pale there, kiddo."
"Yeah, well, just wait to you see the big drill they get for you."
Dean blanched slightly as he saw Maggie organizing the drills in the corner. "Whatever. We'll see who's chicken now."
Sam gave a cocky half smile. "Wait till you hear the drill in your mouth and we'll see then, okay?"
His mouth open to counter, Dr. Galli cut them both off. "Okay, boys, who wants to be shot up first?"
"Well, how about the cavity boy," Dean suggested. "Since he's an old pro at coming to the dentist and all."
Rolling his eyes, Sam simply smiled. "Just want to show him it's no big deal."
It was Dr. Galli's turn to roll his eyes and he walked over to Sam's seat. Maggie handed him the equipment and he leaned over Sam, fingering inside of Sam's mouth. "There'll be just a small prick," he murmured softly. "And then you should feel it start taking effect."
Dean watched in morbid fascination. First the dentist swabbed down the area. Cringing, Dean saw him pick up a needle, before situating it in Sam's mouth, and pressing down.
Flinching, Dean fought the urge to get up and leave. Sam, though tense, didn't respond.
"There we go," Dr. Galli said. "Now, Dean, your turn."
Dean laughed nervously and Sam smiled at him. "No big deal," he said. "Barely even hurt."
Looking at the needle on his own tray, Dean somehow didn't believe his brother. However, not to be outdone, he put on his bawdiest grin and welcomed the dentist to his side. "Let me guess, a little pinch, right?"
Dr. Galli nodded and set to busying himself. As he reached for the equipment, Dean swallowed reflexively, and closed his eyes as the dentist reached inside his mouth.
Something cold was pressed against his gums and a sweetness filled his mouth. A moment passed and the dentist's hands were inside his mouth again, this time heavy with something Dean didn't want to look at.
Then a jolt of pain, stuttering through his mouth.
The pressure was released and he blinked his eyes open and breathed. "That's it?"
"Well, for now, anyway," Dr. Galli said. "Once you're numb, you won't feel anything."
"Really?"
The dentist nodded and Maggie leaned over him. "Your first time getting a shot of novocaine?" she questioned with a friendly smile.
"Yeah," he said.
"You took it very well," she said, and Dean caught the seductive undercurrents of her smile.
"I take a lot of things well," Dean replied, his smile broadening.
"Maggie, can you help me get these forms straightened out?" Dr. Galli asked from the hallway.
"Don't worry, boys," Maggie said. "We'll only be a minute."
Dean watched her go, his eyes brightening. "Maybe the dentist isn't so evil after all."
Sam snorted. "You're so predictable. I should have just told you hygienists were cute and you'd have come to the dentist without all the fuss."
"You're just jealous," Dean said, reclining back in his chair. "She was totally digging me."
"More like she felt sorry for you."
"Whatever."
"Seriously, man. Just wait till you what they want to put in your mouth."
"Cavity boy."
"Root canal jerk."
A moment of silence passed.
"Root canal jerk?"
OOO
Sam was used to pain. He was even used to shots. He'd been numbed up countless times in his life, and in fact, he'd always preferred the pain relief as opposed to the times he was forced to undergo a procedure without them.
So the shot didn't bother him. But he'd never felt this...strange after one before.
He couldn't let Dean see it, though. For one thing, he'd never let him live it down. After all, Sam had been the way to persuade Dean to come.
Besides, Dean needed to be here. And Sam needed to be strong, with it, together, to keep Dean from truly freaking out. They couldn't very well hunt with Dean not eating.
Anyway, he hated to see his brother in pain. No matter how much he joked around, he didn't want to see Dean suffer.
But damn, that shot was making him feel weird. Local anesthetics were just supposed to numb you, right?
This one certainly didn't. He tried to keep up with Dean's banter, he did, but it was a losing battle.
The room spun. His ears rang. And his fingers were tingling.
His vision tunneled. Distantly he could hear Dean talking to him, asking him something, saying something....
The cacophony in his ears rose a decibel and he found himself unable to see properly. The room was blurry, the bad artwork morphing into moving blobs in the blue expanse. He could barely feel his limbs through the tingling now, burning up and down his synapses.
He couldn't pass out. He had to show Dean that this was no big deal, that it would be fine, that he had nothing to be afraid of.
If he could just catch his breath--
But his heart was pounding and he couldn't hear anything and he wondered if maybe Dean had been right all along a second before his vision left him completely.
OOO
"Dude, isn't this stuff supposed to be kicking in?" Dean asked, touching his lip in exploration. He turned to his brother. "You numb yet?"
But Sam wasn't looking at him. His brother's head was turned his way and his eyes were roaming all around Dean, but there was something off.
"Sam?"
"...feels funny...," Sam mumbled, his words running together.
Dean pushed himself up on the seat. "Sammy?"
Sam tried to say something more, his breath seeming to come quick and forced, and Dean was nearly out of his seat when Sam's eyes rolled up in his head and his body fell limp against the seat, long legs still and one arm flailing off the side.
Dean's heart stopped in his chest. "Sam?"
He was fumbling out of his seat, tripping to his brother's side. "Sam! Can you hear me?"
He shook Sam, who didn't respond, his loose limbs sliding all over the chair.
"Sammy! Wake up!"
This wasn't happening. They were just supposed to go to the dentist. Sammy had a cavity, Dean needed a root canal, but it wasn't supposed to be a big deal. Dean was prepared for big deals. He could deal with angry poltergeists, malevolent spirits, and vicious supernatural entities because he was prepared and trained and ready. But they were in a dentist's office, for goodness' sakes, Sam was supposed to be safe there.
But Sam was limp, sprawled bonelessly on some idiotic examination seat. He knew they shouldn't have come here.
Suddenly there was someone behind him, someone talking. "What happened?"
"He just passed out," Dean shouted back, oblivious to the panic in his voice.
"Maggie, lift his feet," Dr. Galli ordered, moving to the other side of Sam, opposite Dean. He took Sam's wrist in his hand. "Did he say anything?"
"Just that he felt funny," Dean said. "What the hell did you do to him?"
The dentist was unnervingly calm. "Does Sam have any aversion to needles?"
"No," Dean exploded at him. Though at this rate, they were both going to have a strong aversion to the dentist, Dean would be sure of that.
"His heart rate is a bit fast," he noted, then leaned over Sam's chest. "Breathing sounds normal."
"Normal? He passed out! I thought you were just going to numb him."
The dentist stood, patting Sam gently on the head. "Son, you said it yourself. He's just passed out. It's likely the novocaine just hit the bloodstream. He isn't in distress. Let's just give him a minute and see if he comes to."
Maggie smiled at him, holding Sam's feet in the air, and Dean thought it was all beyond ridiculous.
Give it a minute? His kid brother was freakin' passed out in some moronic dentist chair and they just wanted to give it a minute? Why, why, why had he let Sam talk him into this?
Dean was about to say something angry, perhaps insist for an ambulance was Sam twitched on the seat. He forgot the dentist for a moment, and leaned in. "Sammy? Can you hear me?"
Sam's face contorted in something akin to pain and he turned toward Dean's voice.
"Sammy?"
"What?" Sam muttered, blinking his eyes open.
Dean couldn't hold back his smile as relief washed over him.
"Dude, what happened?"
"You fainted."
"I fainted?"
Dr. Galli interjected himself into the conversation. "It seems we hit the bloodstream with the anesthetic," he explained. "It has epinephrine. Causes a bit of an adrenaline rush when injected directly. It's been known to make patients pass out."
"Then maybe dentists should be more careful where they inject things," Dean snapped.
"Dean, there's no way to tell," Sam said. His voice was already back ot normal and apart from a little paleness, he looked as though nothing had happened. He smiled sheepishly at the dentist and Maggie, who gently lowered his feet. "I'm feeling much better now."
"Good," Dr. Galli said. "You think you'll still want to get your cavity filled?"
Dean was about to answer no--for both of them--but Sam cut him off. "Of course. Just a little drilling, right?"
"We'll be done in a flash. You feeling numb yet?"
Sam fondled his lip. "Yep. Completely."
"Good, then we can get right on it," Dr. Galli said, moving back to his tools. "And we'll get to you right after Sam," he said to Dean.
"Why don't you head back to your own seat," Maggie suggested kindly, a hand on his back.
Dean just gaped. Sam was serious. After all that, he was just going to trust that man to play in his mouth again?
"Dude, are you just going to hover? I'm fine," Sam said.
And Dean laughed despite himself. "Fine," he said. "But next time you pass out, bro, you're on your own."
Sam just rolled his eyes as Dean slunk back to his chair. But no matter his threats, Dean watched, his heart in his throat, while the dentist worked on Sam.
He was so relieved when Sam was done and flashed him a reassuring grin, that he didn't even flinch when the dentist approached him with the drill.
OOO
Dean watched Sam carefully as he thanked the receptionist and walked out into the daylight. Sam had been nothing but coherent ever since coming to, but witnessing Sam's fainting spell had done nothing to assuage Dean's anxieties. Getting his teeth checked was one thing; seeing Sam pass out cold was another.
No matter how he looked at it, he was just glad to be out of that dentist office, little brother obediently in tow.
They sauntered to the Impala and Dean's tongue probed his numb lip once more. "That is the weirdest feeling."
"Just don't bite it. It won't hurt now, but you can mess it up later."
Dean bit down in curiosity, fascinated by the absence of sensation. "Whatever," he said. "I'm just glad to put this place behind us."
"It wasn't so bad."
"Wasn't so bad? The dude freakin' drilled in both our mouths," Dean said, pulling out his keys.
"That's what dentists do."
"He made you pass out. I told you the dentist was evil."
"That dentist is not evil."
"He completely had you zonked on the seat. He could have done anything to you. Could have sacrificed you to a pagan god if I wasn't there."
"Dean, it was no big deal. Adrenaline overload. It happens."
"Whatever you say, Sammy. But the next time we start seeing people disappear, I'm going to be checking with the dentists offices. They're evil."
"Yeah, well, tell me how you feel about dentist after the novocaine wears off and you try eating something."
"You think a little food is going to change my mind?" Dean asked.
Sam just smiled a knowing smile and waited for Dean to unlock his door.
OOO
A week later, Dean seemed fully recovered. For awhile Sam couldn't tell, but when Dean ordered the thickest, juiciest burger on the menu, he as pretty sure his brother was feeling better.
Dean waited impatiently for it, and when it arrived, he seemed to bask in its glory. Two thick patties, stacked and layered with cheese, lettuce and tomato. Ketchup and musturd oozed around the edges.
Looking from it, Sam had to admit his salad looked a little bland.
Dean took a large bite of his burger and grinned through the grease. "Now that feels good."
Sam looked at him skeptically. "I'm not sure the dentist fixed your tooth just so you could clog your arteries."
"You have to live a little bit, Sammy," Dean cajoled, munching again on his burger.
"And that's why I try to eat healthy, so I can keep living."
Dean ignored him and swallowed happily. "I hate to say it, Sam, but you were right."
"Of course I was."
"Just don't let it go to your head or anything," Dean added. "Because I'm still the all knowing big brother and all."
"Whatever."
"Seriously, the dentist? Is our friend."
"Yeah," Sam agreed, taking a bite of his salad. "Just remember this when you start having chest pains and I recommend we go to the emergency room, okay?"
"You're such a pessimist, Sammy."
"And you're a sadist."
"At least I'm happy."
Sam just shook his head and laughed. "And I'm glad for that."