Notes: Apologies for the lateness in this chapter. I'd taken a hiatus from Supernatural, to break into the NCIS fandom. It's been a fun ride! If you are an NCIS fan, definitely check out the few fics I've written so far. More to come! Without further adieu, here is the next (possibly last) chapter of Never Broken.
~One Month Later~
Bobby had never felt more alone in his life, than he did in that hospital waiting room. Deacon had returned to work a couple of days after they'd rescued Sam, and Joshua was called away on a hunt. Rufus stuck with him for a while, but he also had other jobs to attend to. He left them a week and a half ago, promising he'd be in touch. He hadn't called yet.
Dean had effectively shut down the day Bobby told him about his brother's coma. After Dean had almost hurt himself three times, trying to get out of bed to get to Sam, Bobby convinced the hospital to move him to his brother's room. He stayed there for two weeks, not saying a word to anyone, including the doctor. The only sounds heard from that room were in the middle of the night, when the nightmares came. Bobby was at a standstill. He just wasn't sure what to do at this point. He was definitely in this alone.
Forgoing the need to sleep, Bobby picked up his coffee and left the small waiting room to check on the boys. He knew what he'd find when he went in there. He still had to check.
Dean was in the same catatonic state he'd been in the last time Bobby checked on them. Physically, he could have been released weeks ago, but mentally he'd completely checked out. There was only one thing Bobby could think to do, to snap Dean out of his catatonic state. He needed to bring in a therapist.
Getting up to close the door to the boy's hospital room. Bobby took out his phone and started to sift through his contacts. If Dean was going to talk to a therapist, he needed to find one that knew about their kind of work. He didn't want to risk the wrong person knowing what they do.
He spent the next half hour making phone calls. He was about to give up when Rufus finally called him back.
"I've been trying to call you for an hour, Rufus!" Bobby grumbled into the phone.
"Got a little occupied with a vamp nest."
"Sounds delightful," Bobby said sarcastically. Rufus ignored him and continued.
"Keith Richards."
"And?"
"Hunted with him a while back. Used to be a psychologist, before he got possessed He still owes me for blasting that demon out of him."
Bobby took down the name and number of Rufus' contact.
"Thanks, Rufus. I owe ya." he hung up and quickly dialed Keith's phone number. It rang twice before someone picked up.
"Yeah."
"Keith Richards?"
"Who wants to know?"
"Name's Bobby Singer. I'm hunting buddies with Rufus Turner."
There was a brief silence on the phone as Keith took in Bobby's sentence.
"What do you need?"
Bobby explained his situation to Keith in great detail. Keith listened intently. Bobby sounded genuine. It had been a long time since someone had asked him for his expertise in psychology. From what Bobby described had happened to these boys, they were going to need all the help they could get.
"Send me the address of the hospital. I'm on my way," he finally said, and hung up.
SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPN
It took him a few hours to get to the hospital in Pennsylvania that Bobby had indicated. He brought along his credentials, just in case he needed to con his way in. He'd become amazingly good at that. A year before, he never would have considered the life he lead now. He abandoned his practice in Ohio to live as a hunter. He decided after he was possessed that he'd make sure it didn't happen to anyone else. Ever. For a psychologist, Keith was very damaged.
Keith got past the front desk and went up to the ICU. Checking the waiting room. He found a middle aged man in a flannel shirt and trucker cap pulled over his eyes. It had to be Bobby.
"Bobby Singer?"
The man awakened and pushed up his cap.
"You Keith?" he asked, standing.
"Keith Richards," he said, extending a hand. Bobby shook it, and silently led Keith to Sam and Dean's room. Keith sucked in a breath when he got a look at Sam. The kid was still in a coma. His face and every visible inch of skin was covered in bruises. His hands were bandaged, and a cast ran the length of his leg, stopping just over his knee. He was hooked up to several different machines, keeping his body stable.
Dean looked healthier than his brother. Other than a casted hand and ankle, there was no reason for Dean to still be in the hospital, other than that he was practically catatonic.
"He won't answer the doctor's questions. He just sits there, staring at the wall. The nurses say he has nightmares. Screams all night." Bobby shuddered.
Keith crossed the room and took a seat in the chair next to Dean's bed.
"Dean, my name is Keith. I'm a psychiatrist." There was no movement from Dean. His eyes didn't even twitch. "I'm here to help you, son." He paused. "I know what you and your brother do. I'm a hunter, too." Something amazing happened after Keith stopped talking.
Dean blinked.
"Good, Dean. At least I've got some movement out of you," Keith said, chuckling. "I'm going to be here every day. An experience like you and your brother had is hard to file away, even for people like us. I'm here to help you through it, okay?"
Silence. Dean didn't move.
"Dean, if this is going to work, you need to respond to my questions, all right?"
Dean nodded.
"All right, Dean. Shall we get started?"
TBC...
Notes: Hope you like my therapy angle! Please review, and if anyone has an idea for the next chapter, please feel free to share!
