Chapter 8

"The economy?"

"What?"

"You told the doctor you were depressed and drinking because the economy is bad?"

"Hey, it was a good excuse! And it is depressing me. Do you know how much its cost me to keep my baby filled with gas every week? It's been brutal!"

Sam threw his hands up in the air in annoyance. "I can't believe you lied to him!"

"Yes, because telling him the truth would have worked out so much better for me."

"He's just trying to help, Dean!"

"Dammit, I know, Sam! But he can't help me! No one here can! All they're going to do to me is lock me up in the loony bin and throw away the key! Or is that what you want?"

"No! No, Dean! I don't- dammit!" Sam ran his hands through his hair. "I don't know, Dean. I don't want you locked away. But I don't want to find you comatose on a motel room floor again either!"

"I said I was going to stop drinking."

"But you're still not dealing with the real issue!"

"Jesus Christ, Sam! How many more times do we have to have the conversation!?"

"Until you finally get it! Until you finally listen to me and deal with this! With what's happened!"

"I've dealt with it!"

"No, you haven't!"

"And how would you know that?"

"Because I'm the one that found you almost dead on the floor and hauled your ass to the hospital! That's not coping, Dean! That's suicide!"

"Seriously, Sam, you think I want to die? I know where I'm going to wind up if I die again. And I know damn well that nothing will save me next time. So, no, I'm not trying to off myself."

"Um, excuse me."

The brothers stopped talking and turned to look. One of the nurses was standing in the doorway with Dr. Black. The nurse was smiling politely.

"Dean, Sam, Dr. Black wanted to speak with both of you," she said.

"Um, yeah, sure," Sam said, sitting up straight.

Dean felt a knot form in his stomach, but he forced a smile on his face. "No problem. Come on in."

Dr. Black walked in and sat down in one of the empty chairs near the bed.

"I'm glad I'm able to speak with both of you. I have been reviewing Dean's case and I believe we can definitely work together and develop a plan to help treat this problem."

Dean felt hesitant, but Sam smiled with relief.

"Doctor, that's great!"

Dr. Black held up a hand. There are a few things that need to be addressed first, though. While I had a good conversation with Dean earlier, I believe there are deeper issues that we didn't touch upon yet. He is going to require many therapy sessions so those issues can be addressed."

"That's fine," Dean said quickly. "You can send me home and I'll just come in and meet with you for the therapy. No big deal!"

Dr. Black sighed. "I'm afraid, Dean, it's not going to be quite the simple."

"What?"

"My concern, Dean, is once you return home you will quickly lapse back into your old habits. I want to help you establish new coping skills and help you deal with your underlying problems before you return home."

"So, what does that mean?" Sam asked nervously.

"Well, Sam, I would like to admit Dean into our mental health unit for a few days. It would provide him a safe environment and we can meet regularly for therapy, even start him on a medication regime to help treat him."

Dean's heart began thundering in his chest. "So you're locking me up in the nut house."

"We're not locking you up, Dean. You will be a patient there, with rights and privileges. I want you there for your own safety."

Dean shook his head furiously. "No way. No. I'm not doing it."

"Dean-"

"No! I'm not fucking crazy and I don't need to be locked up in a nut house with people trying to drug me up so I'm happy 24/7. I'm not doing it, so thanks, but no thanks, doc. I'll take my own chances."

"Dean, I understand this is difficult for you, but I would rather you agree to this plan."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"It would be for your benefit to agree as it shows you're accepting that you have a problem and that is the first step to recovery. But, regardless, if you don't agree I'm afraid that I do have the power to admit you whether you want to be or not."

Sam and Dean looked at each other in panic. Sam looked back at the doctor.

"Doctor, I really never wanted Dean to be admitted!"

"I understand, Sam, but I think in your brother's case it would be the best option. I am very concerned about his safety and well-being."

"I'm safe!" Dean protested.

"I'm afraid this incident, Dean, makes me question your judgment about your safety. I don't believe you make the best choices when it comes to what's best for you."

Sam began racking his brain. He knew that what the doctor was saying was true, but Sam also knew that the least safest place for Dean would be on a locked mental ward. Lillith and Alistair would find him in no time and who knows what they would do to him.

"I don't care what you say, I'm not going! I don't need to need to be on a mental ward! I can handle this fine on my own!"

"Dean-"

"No one is getting locked up on any mental ward," a voice said from the doorway.

The three men turned and saw Bobby standing there. He was holding a piece of paper in his hand.

"Doc, I'm Bobby Singer, close friend of Dean's," Bobby said walking over to them. "I have a number here for you to call. It's a psychiatrist who's agreed to take on Dean's case."

Dr. Black stood up and took the paper from Bobby. He read it, a surprised look on his face.

"Dr. Leonard Morgan. Is it the same-"

"Yes, sir," Bobby said with a nod.

"I'm surprised. I thought I had heard he had retired."

"He had. He's an old friend of mine, though. I spoke with him and he agreed to come out of retirement to take Dean's case."

"I see. Well, I would like to speak with him and get everything set up. Would you excuse me?"

Dr. Black walked out of the room. As soon as they were alone all three men let out sighs of relief.

"Thanks, Bobby," Sam said.

"Yeah, thanks! I didn't know how I was going to get out of that one!" Dean said.

Bobby gave Dean a hard look.

"I only got you out of getting set to the mental ward. Everything else it true. I talk to Leo and he said to head on over as soon as you get out of the hospital. He lives a couple miles from my place so you and Sam are going to be staying with me for a while."

"Wait… what?" Dean looked at him startled. "You mean you're actually going to make me see a shrink?"

Bobby glared at him. "Damn right you're going to see him, you idgit! You damn near killed yourself trying to deal with everything on your own. You're not talking to me or Sam. So this is your only option. Either you take it or I'll tell that doctor that you need to be admitted! Take your pick!"

Dean swallowed hard. He looked at Sam. Sam's face was filled with concern, but he could also see the glimmer of hope. Dean rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.

"Fine. I'll go."