We stop by home so I can pick up a few things, but I'm in a dream. And maybe I'm a little pissed that I have to go. And maybe I'm a little hurt that they're sending me away like this. And maybe I'm a little scared about being away from my family. But there's no way that I'm going to admit all of this to a head shrinker so they can deem me crazy and either dope me up or keep me locked up like a criminal. I just grab a few things. I'm not sure how long I'm even gonna be at this damn hospital or mental ward or prison or whatever the hell it is.

After I grab everything I can think of and throw it in a bag I sit on the edge of my bed and just stare at the wall and wonder a) when am I going to see it again and b) if maybe I'm being just a little bit dramatic about the whole affair. But the voice inside tells me that Bobby and Sam want to help me and they want me to get better. But then another, even louder voice screams at me that they just want to get rid of me and I've been nothing but a bother to them since the very beginning.

I'm not really sure how long I sit there, the two voices in my head arguing, as they always do. Battling for dominance. But I guess it's been a long time because Sam comes up to make sure I'm ready or alive or something. Either way his appearing at my door silences the voices and I look away from the wall and at him.

"You ready?" He asks me. Probably already knowing the answer.

No.

"Yeah, I guess." I reply. Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I can't still pretend like everything is peachy.

And I know by the glint in Sam's eyes that he doesn't believe it. Not for one second.

He doesn't say anything though, he's not breaking the habit now either. He just walks down the stairs, expecting me to follow. Which I do.

Bobby is just standing in the foyer, he hears us coming and looks up.

"Ready?" He asks. I'm not really sure why people keep asking that. I'm obviously not going to be ready.

I don't say anything, I just nod my head yes and he turns around and walks out the front door, leaving it open for Sam and me.

Bobby pops the trunk of the Impala I and put my few belongings in there. And when he slams it shut I feel as if though he's slamming me shut. Trying to get rid of me. Rationally I know that's not the case, but the voice argues otherwise.

I get in the front seat like always and Sam gets in the backseat as always and it's almost as if though we're going on a trip or something.

The drive to the ward is silent and tense and terse and long and awkward and makes me want to bang my head against the window until blood comes out of my ears.

The next hour and a half is arguably the most anxious occurrence in my life. With each mile the Imapla covers the more and more I can feel the anxiety filling up my chest. Boiling up and threatening to spill over.

My head hurts and my eyes hurt from trying to not cry and so does my throat and I feel weak. I feel weaker than I ever have before and that damn voice in my head that never shuts up just keeps on whispering those little seeds of doubt that I'll never be good enough and that Sam and Bobby are so glad that I'm going. Not because I'm 'getting better' but because they won't have to be around my sorry ass for a few weeks.

And I think these thoughts all the way there, not daring to voice them.

We pull into a semi-crowded parking lot entitled 'Patient check-in' and Bobby finds a spot close to the front and throws the Impala into park and turns the engine off. We all just sit there for a moment, unsure of what to do or say.

After a moment Bobby just pops the trunk open and gets out to get my few belongings.

I steal a breath and open my door. It's midafternoon and much to bright outside for my taste. Squinting, I look around. It doesn't look much like a ward. No barbed wire fences like I was expecting. But looks can be deceiving.

Sam gets out as well and we all head toward the door together.

None of us has said a single thing in the entire ride here and apparently we're not breaking that tradition just yet.

I want to stop outside the door for a moment, take on last breath of fresh air. Take one last look around before they check me in. Before I become a prisoner. But I don't I just take a deep breath and follow Bobby and Sam as they walk casually through the automatic glass doors. I understand how they can be casual, this isn't their life that's changing.

After we're inside the building it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. Once they go into to focus I study my surroundings. It looks like any old normal doctor's office. Beige carpet with off-white walls. Chairs in neutral colors printed with squares. A lady in scrubs with butterflies on them sitting behind a desk behind a sliding glass window with a sign above it that read 'Patient Sign-In'. I gulp as Bobby heads over to it.

The lady notices us walking her way and smiles at me.

I do not return the favor.

"Patient name?" She asks Bobby once we get up there.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester."

She keys it into the computer and clicks a few buttons.

While I'm waiting for her to finish up a look around the room some more. There're a few people in here with me, not a lot. But more than I expected. I mean, I know I'm not the only fuck-up in the world, but still.

And for some reason they're all starring at me. I feel like they're judging me which, yet again is weird because we're all in here for the same reason.

I guess I zoned out for a moment because next thing I know I'm being lead through a set of double doors that I didn't notice earlier that reads 'Authorized Personal Only'.

We were all corralled down a corridor and then the nurse stops in front of a door.

"If you all will please take a seat in there the doctor will be with you in a moment." She says as she opens the door with another smile on her face. I do not understand how someone could smile so much in this place.

Today has been full of uncomfortable silences and I'm guessing now is not the time to change that.

After a few minutes the a doctor walks in. It's a lot like earlier. The doctor asks me questions. Bobby answers some, I answer a few others. And before I know it it's time for me to be taken back and for Sam and Bobby to leave and to be honest I don't really thing that I'm ready for that. I don't think I'll ever be ready for that.

"I'll give you all a moment." The doctor says as he stands to leave the room. He shuts the door quietly behind him and all that's left in the room other than us is a sense of forboding.

Nobody says anything. I know the second they do it'll begin the process of them leaving. Of me leaving. Of me being locked away.

Sam, strangely enough is the first one to say anything. "Promise you'll get better?"

He has so much positivity and faith in me. I don't know how.

"Sam..." I say, looking for words, anything really to tell him how impossible all of this is going to be for me. And part of me, part that I'm not going to admit doesn't want to get better. I deserve all of this.

"Don't 'Sam' me. Just promise." He says, his young face all too serious.

"Fine. I promise." I say and this kills me because I know how unlikely it's going to be for me to uphold this promise. And for just a split second I think I can see that Sam sees it too.

"Good." He responds. Then it's Bobby's turn to speak.

"I'm telling you boy, the only reason I'm doing this is because I want you to get better. I just want you to be happy again." And I know that that's all I'm gonna get from him. Neither one of us are the touchy feel-y type.

But the little voice in my head interrupts and says that he's lying. That I don't deserve it. I don't say anything else.

I am absolutely consumed by fear. I have no idea when I'm going to see them again, or eve if I'm going to see them again. Or if they even want to see me again. Probably not.

I shove every single thought I have in my busy head into my freak out box to be opened later, when I'm not with them. That's how I always deal with things and it's served me just fine so far.

The doctor comes back in and asks if we're ready and of course we're not but we all lie and say yes and they stand and I stand.

Sam walks over to me and wraps his arms around me. Brief and tight. "Get better." he whispers in my ear. I just nod my head and he lets go. Then it's Bobby's turn. He hugs me and when he lets go he says "This is gonna be good for you." And I don't believe him and next thing I know they're walking one way and I'm walking another and it takes everything I have not to look over my shoulder.