Disclaimer: My playground. Supernatural character's are playing in it.
Author's Note: I'm trying my hand at not having any of my (overly strong and totally supernatural) characters in this story. The only character that I own in Patrick Brown whose is actually the name of my dad.
Chapter 1: What is Left Behind.
"This is Rick Brown. Leave a message," the voice mail said. "Press one to leave a message or…" Robert Singer pressed the one button on the phone.
"Rick, this is Bobby. Call me when ya get this message ya idjit," Bobby hung up then. The old hunter rubbed a hand down his face. "Damnit Rick. Dean needs yer help." Rick had called back several hours later.
"Singer Salvage," Bobby answered.
"Bobby. This is Rick. Told me to call you? What's up?" Bobby's old friend answered.
"It's Dean. Rick. He's locked up and half out of his mind. I'm wonderin' if….."
"You transfer him here. How did this happen?" Rick stated.
"He just lost his brother. Lisa called me and told me what happened. She found my number on his phone," Bobby explained.
"Alright. Have him transferred. Meet me here. I want the full story," Rick stated and then hung up. Bobby listened to the dial tone for a few more seconds before hanging up himself.
Half a Day Later…
Bobby spotted the brown haired, thirty-seven year old not far away. He was standing next to the doors to the asylum that Dean was transferred to. Patrick Brown adjusted his navy blue, turtle neck while straightening his lab coat. Leavenworth is probably the worst psychiatric hospital in Kansas that you could be in. This is where the worst criminally insane could go especially if the insane were former military. Rick had pulled in some favors to get Dean transferred there.
Rick brushed a hand through his short brown hair and with his other put a cigarette to his lips. He took a drag on it and blew out the smoke. The thirty-seven year old flicked some ash off and waited another minute before actually spotting Bobby coming his way.
"Ya know those things are going to kill ya," the old hunter stated.
"Hey would you rather have it be a hazard to my health or yours?" Rick shot back. Bobby put up his hands in surrender. The Brown dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it to put it out. Rick rubbed his eyes before opening them to reveal startling blue.
"So tell me what happened? From the beginning," Rick said while going inside. Bobby followed him.
"Find out that Sam was alive a few days before Lisa called. Lisa called me on Dean's cell and told me that he trashed the house, had a shot gun to his head, and was ramblin' on about going to see Sam in Hell," Bobby said. Rick led Bobby through a series of doors before stopping in front of his office. The blue eyed man opened it and entered. Bobby followed.
"Lisa had called the police before contacting me. Told me that Dean injured four officers before one knocked him unconscious," the old hunter explained. Rick sat behind his desk and Bobby took the seat in front of him.
"How did they get the shot gun away from before he could shoot it?" Rick asked. Bobby scoffed.
"Damn idjit didn't even have it loaded. That's what surprised me the most. Dean always had the guns ready and loaded." The Brown nodded. "I think the idiot has lost his mind. Lisa told me that Dean called the officers demons. Dean had started an exorcism but was knocked out by the officer. Lisa saw the whole thing. Scared the crap out of her and Ben. Lisa told me that the officers had him transferred to a hospital and the hospital released him to an asylum. That's when she looked through Dean's list and found my name," Bobby finished.
"And that's when you called me? Bobby…." The old hunter stood up and pointed at him.
"Ya owe me a favor Brown. Ya help Dean and I'll have this as 'favor repaid'," Bobby grunted. Rick took a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"All I can give you Bobby is 'we shall see'. With Dean's state of mind; I could estimate about a year or more before I can get him to actually think straight. I've read some of the file that I got on him. Doctor Smith had diagnosed him with paranoid schizophrenia. I may be a high priest and shaman Bobby, but I can't heal a mind that does not want to be healed," Rick explained. "I'll do the best to my abilities to help Dean but I can't heal without the permission of the person that needs to be healed."
"Ya get him better there doc or I'll have every hunter on your ass," Bobby threatened. Rick narrowed his eyes.
"Don't you threaten me Robert Singer. You saved me once and I owe you my life but if your anger is clouding your judgment then let me make it very clear to you. I will forget the debit I owe you and come after you personally. Now, if you need a place to stay my home is available," Rick said calmly. "You know where it is." Bobby nodded and left.
Rick let out a tired sigh and picked up the folder that Doctor Smith had mailed him. The file contained that Dean Winchester was at one point wanted by the FBI. When the FBI learned that had been emitted to a psych ward they dropped the charges as long as he (Dean) would still be incarcerated for several years. The Brown was surprised at how fast the motion was granted by a judge.
"Poor, demon possessed bastard," Rick muttered. "This going to be harder than I thought. Mind as well let Bobby know." Rick picked up his office phone and dialed the Singer's cell phone.
"Hey Bobby, I just read some of Dean's file. I'm letting you know that it might take longer for Dean to get out than we thought. The ABC agencies decided to drop the charges against him as long as he stays locked up. I'll talk to you later about it. Alright? Bye," Rick hung up the phone and lifted his gaze to a picture frame on his desk. The picture had two photos. One had his adopted daughter and her mother after his daughter's graduation. The other was a family portrait of him, his wife, and daughter. They both were dead; wife and daughter. The Brown rubbed his eyes to brush away any tears that decided to come forth. No sense in dwelling the past.
Rick scanned the next page after reading the intestinal charges on Dean. On top of the paperwork was Dean's arrest photo. Patrick raised an eyebrow at one piece of information.
"Dad was a Jar Head? That explains his combat skills. Wonder which one of the three jars that John's head fitted in? (1)" the Brown said jokingly. Rick started muttering out the facts on Dean. "Got a GED. Has a brother named Samuel. Brother graduated with a full ride to Stanford." The doctor took a notebook out of one of his desk drawers. He always kept a few, fresh, new notebooks on hand. Rick took a blue sharpie out of his pen holder and put Dean Winchester in tiny capital letters on the front of the green notebook. He lit the lettering dry before taking a pen, opening, and writing a few notes himself. He flipped through the pages on the file then wrote something else. Normally Rick would keep the copy and use the paper on file of his patients but something told him that it would be adamant to write something down. More for a spiritual sense if anything else.
Later That Night…
Bobby slept in the guest room which was once belonged to his daughter at one point before she died upstairs. Rick was sitting at his dinning room table reading his own notes. To his left was his Book of Shadows. The Brown heard his door wards go off but only he heard and grabbed reflexively for the bastard sword hanging on the wall behind him. The object was there other than being on display. He turned to come to face to face with a tall man with shaggy hair. The intruder was pointing a gun in his face. Rick reacted with Combatives he learned in the Army. He dropped the sword and it clattered onto the floor. The ex-soldier wrestled the man for the gun and put him in a choke hold. But not before the intruder gave him a black eye and a punch in the ribs.
"Who are you? And what the hell are you doing in my house?" The man beneath Rick grunted. "Talk or I'll start depriving you of air."
"Sam," the intruder choked out. Rick heard several guns cock but he didn't look up.
"Let my grandson go Patrick Brown," an older man gestured. The ex-soldier got up and let Sam go. Rick raised his hands up in surrender. He finally noticed who was in his house. Two men and a woman. The third man being the person Rick attacked earlier. The doctor looked at the older of the three. He looked enough to be his own grandfather.
"You know me but I don't know you," Rick stated. Sam was just getting up from the floor. The woman scoffed.
"Why don't you read our minds you bastard of a witch?" Rick glared at her comment.
"For one I not a telepath, that was my daughter. And two my mother was not a witch, a bitch yes because she earned it, but never a witch," Rick corrected.
"You're a high priest yes?" Sam asked rubbed his sore throat.
"I was. Just a priest. If you wanna get married you'll have to have the right paper work for it (2)," Rick said jokingly.
"We're not in the mood for your jokes. Tell us what we want to know and we'll be out of your hair," the younger of the three men stated while raising his gun. Rick smirked.
"More like torture the info outta me. I looked into my cards genius. Knew you guys would come sooner or later. I don't have the answers you seek. My gods have been quiet since Sammy-boy here and his brother started and ended the apocalypse," Rick stated while lowering his hands. Sam raised an eyebrow. "I figured it out when Bobby called me. He told me that Dean just lost his brother and now you're back. It doesn't take a genius to know what happened especially when you know about the supernatural."
"What do you know about my grandson?" the older male of the group asked. Rick came over to the dinning table and grabbed the folder containing Dean's file.
"Because he's in my care ass munch. If you've read about me then you should know that I'm a psychiatrist at Leavenworth," Rick said while putting the folder back down. "The FBI is now investigating into Samuel Winchester and has posted a reward on any info on him. They also gave me this information considering his brother is in my care." If they were all shocked they didn't show it.
'Wow, good acting guys,' Rick thought.
"Can I offer you anything?" the ex-soldier asked while going to his cupboards in his kitchen. The group looked at each other confused. "Coffee? Tea? Cookies?" Rick raised an eyebrow at them.
"You're not going to kill me when you know that I have one of your family in my care," the Brown stated.
After consulting and a decision was made Samuel Campbell and his grandson Sam were staying with Rick. The Brown had given the Campbell his room upstairs. Samuel was going to protest when the ex-soldier waved it off saying that he hardly used the bedroom anyway. Rick had just gotten up and poured himself a cup of coffee when there was a shout upstairs. He shrugged and proceeded in putting sugar and creamer in his warm brew. Sam was just coming the kitchen.
"Coffee?" Rick suggested while handing Sam an empty cup.
"Uh, sure," Sam poured himself a cup and watched as Rick went to the dining room table adjacent to the kitchen and sat in a chair. The folder and notebook still lay open on top the surface. Sam had taken a peek at the doctor's notes when Rick went to sleep on the sofa.
"So, Sam you mind telling me why you're missing a soul?" Rick asked without looking up. Sam looked at him surprised or thought he should feel surprised.
"I don't know….."
"Cut the bull shit Sam. I'm a shaman. I know these things," Rick leafed through his notes. "And I would mind if you didn't look at my notes." Sam came to the table and sat opposite of the Brown.
"Honestly I don't know. Frankly I think I should be worried but I'm not. I don't care about anything even my brother but I think I should." Rick finally lifted his gaze to look at him.
"I figured as much. I'll look into later. Right now Dean is my main concern," Rick took a sip of his coffee and really wanted his daughter's coffee. It wasn't the same as his and hers was that type of coffee that wasn't too strong or too weak. Right in between. The ex-soldier scratched an itch on his nose and let out a sigh. He looked at his watch sighed again. The Brown got up and went to get ready for work. When he came up the stairs he passed by Samuel and Bobby coming down.
"Coffee's in the pot," he called down and went to take a shower.
"Alright, Dean you need to take these. They'll make you feel a whole lot better," Rick said later that afternoon. His patient starred at them a long while before taking the whole assortment of pills proscribed and dry swallowing them. Rick was amazed that Dean took them. The Brown suspected that the Winchester just wanted to be left alone and kill himself in peace. The ex-soldier was glad that they took all sharp objects away and left Dean in a white t-shirt and gray hospital pants.
"I'll come by later to check on you," Rick said as he got up from sitting on Dean's iron framed bed. Dean mumbled something unintelligible and looked up at him.
"Don't go that way pervert," the Winchester mumbled while gazing at the doctor with dull eyes. Rick cracked a smiled.
"Neither do I Dean," the doctor said but knew that Dean didn't really hear him. The dirty blond laying on the bed just stared into nothingness. Rick gave out a heavy sigh and walked out the room. The psychiatrist walked down the hall to a door, unlocked with a card key and walked through several more before getting to his office. To his surprise there someone already in there. A man in a trench coat. Rick scoffed and sat at his desk.
"The hell you want?" Rick asked angrily. Figures a damn angel come by to check up on him. The Brown didn't really hate the angels just wasn't as forgiving as most would towards the celestial beings. The man in the trench coat turned away from the small book shelf in the just as small office.
"You said you'd be looking for the artifacts," the man stated with a monotone voice. Rick closed his eyes and let out a sigh.
"I told you before, Castiel. I'd look into it but I've been busy with other things like the storm coming my way and Dean Winchester," Rick said while looking for his phone as it started its text message sound; an arrow shooting into someone and that someone saying 'message for you sir' (3). Castiel started reaching for a folder when Rick slapped at his hand.
"Hands off angel boy. You go see Dean yourself if you want to learn what became of him," Rick stated without looking up from his phone. He would reply to it later. The ex-soldier heard a flap of feathers and let out sigh. The Brown rubbed his tired eyes with his fingers before going to visit his other patients.
Meanings:
1) The jar reference did actually occur. Met a Marine recruitor who had three jars on his shelf and told me that depending on if the recruits heads fitted in the jar then they could join. If they're heads were to big that meant they were too smart to join.
2) My dad's an ordain minister. So he can marry people as long as they have the marriage cerificate.
3) If you don't know this from Monty Python then I suggest watching the Holy Grail and finding out for yourselves.
A/N 2: Hoped you enjoyed this new piece of work of mine. If you have any questions please drop in a review and I'll answer it in the next chapter.