''Dean, look it's not gonna be that bad!'', Sam said with a sigh. Not gonna be bad? Not gonna be bad? Not gonna be bad my perky ass thought Dean. "Dean-"Sam tried but was interrupted with "it's not that big a deal, Sam! It's perfectly normal for a grown ass man like yours truly to have a nightcap,'' reasoned Dean. Sam was poking at a smoke screen. He hadn't been completely trashed in two months and felt he deserved a little incentive to keep on the ''right track''. He sure as hell did not need his little brother sending him to a shrink! "Dean, please, you always do this! Every time you start to make progress you go and do something stupid! Like now!" Sam said tensely as he made a grab for the whiskey bottle. Dean saw Sam's body tense in preparation for the grab and instinctively he let lose a powerful right hook smashing into his younger brother's nose. "Sammy-"Dean began in an ashamed tone, "just Dean no", said Sam as he made his way to the motel door whilst he clutched onto his nose which now oozed of blood. Damnit! Why can't the kid just let me have one drink? Dean sighed. Perhaps he needed help after all. He felt the bile rise to his throat as he thought of the sickening blow he dealt to Sam. For Sam he vowed silently, he would suck up his pride and see the shrink. For Sammy.
A couple of hours later, Dean noticed the creaking sound of the front door opening, signalling Sam's return. "Sammy, I'm sorry, pleases...just I'm sorry." said Dean solemnly. "Yeah Dean I know...but honestly? I don't know for how much longer I can do this. Ever since the fire four years ago you've been on some sorta downward spiral. You need help not for me but for you. Cause all this, ''he gestured with his hand, 'it's gonna destroy you man." Dean listened. He really listened for the first time in four years to what Sam was saying to him. "Okay, Sam" Dean said in defeat. "What?" exclaimed his brother in surprise. "I mean okay, I'll see the shrink. Only once, right? Because Sam, I can't risk hurting you or anyone else. I'm sorry." Dean got out just as his eyes started tearing up. Quicker than a lightning bolt, Sam had him trapped in a tight bear hug. "Thank you, Dean. It'll be good again. I promise.
"Doctor Novak, your 3 o'clock is here should I send him in?" enquired the nasal tone of Doctor Castiel Novak's secretary. "Yes, thank you Victoria,'' he replied promptly. Castiel had received a phone call two days prior from one Sam Winchester. He had spoken of his brother who was on the verge of a break down and had been abusing whisky as a coping mechanism. Naturally, he had agreed to take a personal shine to the case. Alcoholism, like abuse, was one of his more specialised areas. A light knock sounded and he was pulled from his thoughts. "Uh... Doctor Novak? I'm uh, Sam. I spoke to you about my brother Dean?'' Castiel surveyed Sam carefully, he seemed anxious. Castiel smiled warmly and said "Good afternoon, Mr Winchester? If correctly I recall? Where is your brother might I ask?" it was at that moment that Castiel noticed that Dean was nowhere in sight. ''He's here. He is just refusing to get out of the car. He promised he would see you but honestly? I begin to wonder if he wants help." Sam told the doctor crestfallen. What an odd young man this Dean is. Surely he couldn't be that agitated over the reality of seeing a psychologist. "Right," said Doctor Novak suddenly as he stood, "Let's go fetch him then, shall we?" Bewildered Sam followed the doctor out into the parking lot and finally to the Impala where Dean sat with his face clutched in his hands. With a firm, sure hand, Castiel rapped gently on the window and said "hello, Dean."