"Bipolar?" He spat the word with utter confusion and disbelief. Of course, Dean Winchester has heard this word before. One of his uncles was bipolar. Was it Uncle Bobby? Or maybe it was an aunt... on his mom's side, maybe?
"Dean! Listen to me!" Dean's father, John Winchester, stopped pacing to face Dean in an attempt to get him to refocus. John was looking more than somewhat frustrated, and hell, concerned for Dean. John sighed, sitting next to his twenty-one year old son. "They're sending you to Riverside."
"Sounds nice." Dean spoke with his trademark smirk.
"God damnit, this isn't a fucking vacation, Dean!" John's voice grew as he spoke. "Do you understand what's happening here? You could be in prison right now, instead, you're getting the help you need." He ran his hands over his face, hunched over in his chair. "Riverside is a mental...health facility, about 20 miles north. You're going to be there for a while. Maybe a year. Less if you're behavior improve. Dramatically."
Dean shot up from his own chair, his eyes darting around frantically. "You... you've gotta be friggin kidding me. I got a little drunk on my twenty first and smashed a guy's head in a few times. That earns me a year in a fucking looney bin?" When he didn't get a response, he lowered his voice and his expression softened. "Please..."
When John didn't meet Dean's gaze, Dean let out a defeated sigh as he sat back down. He hunched over, his pose matching his father's, hands running through his short hair. Shit. This was not the intended result of his 21st birthday. It was supposed to be drinks, ladies, and good times. Not broken glass, bloody fists, and blacking out. He'd gone out to a bar with one of his only friends, Adam, and Adam's girlfriend, Jo. Some guy started something with Jo and decked Adam right in the face. What was he supposed to do? Just stand there and let his friends get hurt?
"Dad... I snapped, I know. But I've been doing fine. Better. I don't need to go to some hospital. Shit, Dad, come on." Any argument, even a poor one, would have to suffice at this point. There was no way Dean was going. Nuh-uh.
"The only reason you've been doing better is because you left college. You spend all your time in that garage with your car. And even if I bought what you were selling, it's not up to me. You're lucky, to be honest with you. The guy you... he was barely alive when they brought him in, Dean." Dean shot a look to his dad, wanting to retort. But what the hell could he possibly say? Great, my own dad thinks I'm a friggin psycho.
John patted his son on the shoulder before standing up and leaving Dean in the white room alone.
All Dean could do now was wait, for whatever it was that was coming.
"Now if you need anything, anything at all, just say, okay?" The orderly pointed to her name tag before walking out of...well, Dean's room for the next year, apparently. Ellen. He didn't bother flashing her a fake smile and watched her disappear.
Dean groaned and fell back against his new bed, turning his head to face the empty bed across from him. He even had to share a room with some freak. He rested his forearms on his forehead, practically whining. How the fuck did I get here?
He sat back up and leaned for his suitcase, unpacking a few things. A picture of him and his little brother, Sam. His clothes. A few books. His notebook. He scoffed, shaking his head. Being here would surely just make him even crazier. Not that he was crazy. At all. But he'd die of boredom within the first month. Without a doubt.
He stood up and left the room, deciding to take a walk around the place. He walked slower as he passed a few rooms with open doors, his curiosity about who else was in this place striking him. Guess I should consider myself lucky. Haven't seen any straitjackets yet. He kept walking until he reached the common room Ellen had shown him on the mini tour she took him on. There were more patients...er, people there than when he'd passed the area earlier. There was a petite looking girl with wild, shaggy blonde hair knitting in front of the too quiet television. A dark haired girl sitting next to her, who looked like she was sleeping with her eyes open. He felt awkward standing there. Should he introduce himself? Maybe it's not such a good idea to make friends with a bunch of crazies...
"You keep coming back here because you don't take them. You need to take them, Castiel." Dean turned his attention to a nurse and patient that were arguing across the room.
"These make me so tired. I'm already exhausted enough." The patient's voice was low, almost too low. Dean couldn't see the patient's face, since his back was turned to him. He could only see the redheaded nurse's frustrated yet calmed expression.
"Dean." A man stepped right in front of his vision of the two, the man's eyes piercing Dean and taking him by surprise. "Uh y-yeah?" Dean tried to look past the guy but the nurse and patient were magically gone.
"Crowley." He held his hand out for Dean to shake. "Doctor, but you can just call me Crowley. I apologize for the late introduction, I had an emergency to attend to this morning. I'll be your therapist for the duration of your stay."
Dean surveyed him, looking him up and down. Crowley seemed...untrustworthy. Maybe it was just Dean hating doctors. Clearly, he'd have to get over it. "I uh... yeah nice to meet you." Not really, douche bag. Dean forced a small smile and attempted to walk away.
"Just a moment now, your first appointment with me is in an hour. Don't go anywhere." Dean knitted his eyebrows together as he watched Crowley walk away. Was that some supposed to be a joke? He scoffed and decided he'd had enough exploring for now, heading back towards his room.
As he approached the hall, he saw the redheaded nurse he was watching before Crowley interrupted walking out of his room. She flashed him a phony smile, which he didn't bother to pretend to return. He walked in to find some guy who looked to be around his age, but smaller, sitting on the bed opposite his. His hair was dark brown, nearly black, sticking up in all sorts of directions. His head was facing down towards his lap.
Dean considered his options. Say hi? Walk back out? Ignore him?
"Hello, Dean." The gravelly voice from earlier spoke as its owner lifted his head to meet Dean's gaze. His eyes were a piercing, deep blue. They were as intimidating as his voice. "I'm Castiel, and you must be my new roommate." Castiel's lips were pulled in the smallest of smiles. Dean could have just been imagining it was there.
"Yeah. I'm Dean. Well, you knew that." Smooth, you friggin moron. He made his way over to his own bed, sitting down on the edge. Castiel wasn't facing him, so he took the opportunity to take in the other man's appearance further. When he saw Castiel before, he was wearing white scrubs like the orderlies did, but now he had on a too big trench coat over them. Definitely a freak. "I thought they let you wear your own clothes here? You know, minus belts." Castiel smirked and looked down at himself, then to Dean, meeting his green eyes. "I think this suits me just fine."
Dean suddenly felt like an asshole for that comment, but hell, he was just trying to make conversation. What are you supposed to talk about in a place like this? This wasn't some ordinary roommate like the one he briefly had at college.
"I assume you've been shown around?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah, by Allison... or Ellen. Something like that." Dean swallowed uncomfortably.
"Have you been to the courtyard?" Castiel was stroking his long fingers as he spoke. It was a strange gesture but it made Dean feel less awkward.
"I haven't gone out in it, she showed me where it was." Dean couldn't take his eyes off of his roommate. He almost looked like a ghost. If Dean looked away, Castiel would be gone. Just like earlier.
"As long as there's someone to supervise, we can go anytime we want." Castiel spoke as if it were exciting. And yet at the same time, he sounded so disinterested in his own words.
Dean stood from his bed, heading towards the door but turning to Castiel before he reached it. "Well I got a little bit of time to kill," he shrugged, "You comin' Cas?"
Castiel looked up at Dean, his head slightly tilted to the side. "Cas?"
Dean smirked and shrugged again. "Yeah. Cas."
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A/N: I know this is a short first chapter, but something was telling me that I needed to end it here. Future chapters won't be as short! Reviews are very encouraged, and constructive criticism is welcome! :3