Dean

He leaned against the couch, waiting for Sam. No matter how cute the nurse was; that exam was... violating. Dean wasn't actually crazy, at least no more insane than any other hunter was. He thought for a moment about all the crap they'd gone through.

'Well, ok. Maybe a little crazy. But definitely not loony bin worthy.' He sighed in relief and pushed off the couch to greet Sam, who looked mildly disturbed as he walked down the hall.

"How was your Silkwood shower?" He asked. Sam nodded awkwardly, and Dean followed suit. The whole place was giving him the heebie jeebies. He could practically smell the crazy. Or maybe it was just the bleach all hospitals seemed to use. Every single one of them smelled the same.

"Okay. Yeah, good. Yeah, good, umm... good water pressure. Did the nurse... " Sam asked uncomfortably. Dean nodded quickly, trying to avoid the topic.

"She was very thorough." He said shortly. Sam nodded, fidgeting nervously.

"Yeah. Yeah, good. Good. Yeah." He trailed off. Dean ignored his stammering brother as he assessed the room. The people inside were all so quiet, it was weird. One woman was just flipping a single page back and forth over and over and over again, and another was having some kind of staring contest with a pink bunny rabbit. Dean fought the urge to flee, thinking back to the time he'd yelled at Sam that they were insane for hunting a ghost.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this." He groaned quietly. Sam just shrugged.

"Hey, it's the least we could do. Martin saved Dad's ass more times than we can count. He's a great hunter." Dean frowned before correcting his brother.

"Was. Until Albuquerque." He shuddered as he remembered the scattered details about that particular hunt. He wasn't even there, but the stories he'd heard... those were more than enough. His brother shrugged again.

"Besides, I just figure it's best we keep busy. That's all." A weird feeling crawled down his neck at Sam's tone of voice. He knew that one. His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Or at least, dangerous if you weren't Sammy.

"Better than what?"

"Nothing." His kid brother replied quickly, trying to cover. Dean refused to take that as an answer, gesturing for him to continue. They stared each other down for a moment before Sam relented.

"Okay. Look...um...last few weeks, you've kind of been worrying me." Dean thought his eyes might fall out based on how hard he rolled them.

'Not this crap again.'

"Oh, come on, Sam. Stop. Look, just because we're in the loony bin doesn't give you the right to head-shrink me." He snapped harshly.

"Dean..." Sam said softly, pleading. He quickly cut his brother off.

"Ellen and Jo dying, yeah, it was a friggin' tragedy, okay? But I'm not gonna wallow in it." And he wouldn't. Hunting is dangerous, and hunting around him and Sam, even more so. People died. Dean forced himself to push away the memory of clear grey eyes and dark whiskey, repress the memories of the smell of the wind mixed with a worn leather coat and the low rumble of a motorcycle as he looked at Sam's worried expression.

"Dean, you always do this. You can't just keep this crap in." His expression hardened. He knew where this conversation was leading. Her.

It always did.

"Watch me." He snapped. He glanced around the room and spotted the sallow older man in the corner of the room, staring almost vacantly out the window. A drawing pad and crayons were sitting on the table in front of him.

"Oh, there he is." Ignoring the hurt look on Sam's face he started to walk towards the other hunter. When they reached the older ex-hunter, they exchanged a few stilted greetings before getting down to business.

As Martin talked, Dean's disbelief grew. While he could acknowledge that the five deaths were kinda freaky, nothing else about the information they were getting seemed helpful. And according to Martin, the only patient who got more than a quick glimpse at the monster was a traumatized woman who had been in the hospital for eight months, and had never spoken a word in that time. Sure, some screaming at night, a few orderlies with broken bones but besides for that, Jane Doe is a very nice crazy person. He nearly snorted as he glanced around the room again, spotting a woman humming to herself and dancing alone.

"Gee, why wouldn't they be?" He muttered. No, no one here was going to be a reliable witness. Sam reassured Martin that they were on the case, but as they talked Dean's doubts kept growing. There was a case, but Martin clearly had a few screws loose. He was almost relieved that Doc Fuller came and interrupted them. But even then, he was singled out.

'Codependency? I don't depend on Sam! If anything, Sam depends on me...'