December 16

When the appointment with the psychologist came around two days later, Dean was notably not very excited about the experience. By some miracle, he had been able to convince Sam to drop him off at the hospital instead of waiting around for an hour. Okay, maybe it wasn't a total miracle; Sam had been trying his best to help out Dean in any way he could, and if that meant not waiting in the waiting room, he could do that. Of course, there was the initial look of disappointment and confusion, but it was quickly replaced with one of understanding before he drove Dean over. He had still insisted on driving, despite the medical all clear Dean had gotten a few days back.

And…now here he was, signing himself in a full five minutes early and taking a seat in the waiting room of the small office on the lower level. Dean sat down in one of the chairs, not bothering to pick up a magazine. His phone was in his pocket so he could text Sam when he got done, but he didn't feel like using that either. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do.

He didn't want to talk to some stranger about his mess of a head, that was for sure. At least he and Sam had gotten their 'stories' straight beforehand, so there wouldn't be any glaring differences in histories or events that they had to fabricate in order to hide their particular lifestyle in case it should come up.

Dean just didn't want the doc poking around where she shouldn't. And yeah, he knew how it sounded, but if he didn't want to talk it through with Sam or Cas, he didn't want to talk period.

He was midway through again convincing himself how stupid it all was when a kind looking woman walked out of one of the doors and scanned the few other patients in the room before her eyes settled on Dean. She smiled kindly and made her way over. Her brown hair was up in a bun, heels clacking on the tile floor as she walked.

"Mr. Winchester, I presume?" she asked as Dean stood up.

He managed a small smile. "Just Dean is fine," he replied. Mr. Winchester? No thanks, on so many levels.

"Luna Hall," she introduced back and stuck out a hand, which Dean shook. "Or Dr. Hall, or Luna, whichever makes you most comfortable. If you would, follow me, and we'll get started," she cast him another smile before she led him through the door, down a hallway, and into an office. There was a window looking out to the courtyard of the hospital, a sofa against one wall, cabinets, pictures, and file boxes against another, and a desk with a computer and a chair to top it all off. A table with various books and small pottery figures and a few more chairs sat in the center of the room.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Luna offered, gesturing to the room with her hand.

Dean had half expected some sort of therapy bed thing, and was happy to not find one. He took one of the chairs next to the table and sat down, not entirely uncomfortable. Luna grabbed a pen and sat down, making a few notes on a pad of paper in a folder she had picked up from her desk before she sat down in a chair facing Dean.

"So, Dean," Luna started, eventually finishing her notes and flipping through a few pages before she brought her eyes back up. "This is more of an…icebreaker meeting, let's call it. See how things work, maybe give you a few tips to help with things, get a bit of background, and we'll go from there. Sound alright?"

It didn't sound amazing, but it didn't sound awful either, so Dean nodded in reply.

"Care to tell me a bit about yourself?" she asked next.

Dean took a moment before he shrugged. "Grew up in Lawrence. After my mom died, my younger brother, Sam, and I ping-ponged over the states for my dad's work. Got through school, didn't go to college, and picked up some off jobs here and there, usually with my brother," he said, giving her the spark notes version.

She nodded slightly as she listened. "You and Sam, I'm guessing you two are close then?"

Dean smiled a bit at that. It wasn't exactly a hard thing to determine. "You could say that, yeah. We were stuck together a lot while dad was working, so we couldn't hate each other all the time," he said, lightly joking.

"That would make things harder, wouldn't it?" Another smile, another nod on Dean's part. "And your dad, is he still…"

Dean shook his head. "He passed a while back," he said simply.

"I see. Sorry to hear that," Luna replied, seemingly honestly sorry to hear the news.

"It's been a while, it's alright," Dean brushed off with practiced ease. It had been over a decade…but only a few years for him, so it was probably less alright than it should have been.

But the way she looked at him, almost like she could see through him, made him uneasy. It would have been worse had it not been for the look of understanding that went with it. Probably because she had dealt with a lot of people like him in the past, but Dean had no real idea.

"What do you like to do in your free time?" Luna asked, apparently going for the whole question out of left field thing.

"Movies, exercise…I worked as a mechanic for a little while, so cars are a decent way to spend a few hours."

"What sorts of cars?" she continued, an eyebrow peaked in interest.

Dean shrugged. "Whatever I can get my hands on."

"The black beast I've seen in the lot a few times…she yours?" Luna asked with a smirk, as if she already knew the answer.

"How did you…" Dean trailed off.

"I saw your brother drop you off, I'm no psychic," she explained with a laugh. "But it is a good looking car, must take a lot of maintenance to keep looking that good."

Dean nodded again. "She's been built up and repaired so many times we lost count, so, yeah, lots of maintenance," he answered. Talking about cars and his somewhat fake family history…this wasn't quite so bad.

"When was the last time you worked as a mechanic?"

"Officially, not for a while, but I helped out neighbors a few months back and all that…" Dean trailed off, mentally cursing at himself. A few months, more like half a friggin' decade ago.

"You're the guy around town to ask about what's the funny hood noise?" Luna asked, not missing a beat at Dean's apparent misstep, but she did mark down a few things before she returned her gaze to him.

Dean 'mhm'd in affirmation, though it was more subdued.

Luna let the conversation drop for a few moments before she continued. "A few months may be a bit of an understatement?"

"Maybe," Dean replied quietly with a slight shrug.

Luna nodded in response. "It can take patients with amnesia months to get their timelines right, there's no rush to magically fix everything. Dates slip up here and there, it's nothing to worry about." Her tone was definitely reassuring, but it didn't physically fix anything, nothing did. "Do you mind me asking? You don't have to answer if you don't want to, it's just so I have a bit of an idea of what to work with," she started, and continued when Dean raised his head and gave her motion to do so. "What's the last thing you remember? In a linear standpoint, from years ago."

She watched him carefully, in no obvious rush. Dean debated saying anything at all. He knew exactly what his last memory was. It was seared into his muddled brain and probably would be forever…and he didn't exactly want it to leave.

He and Ben had spent all afternoon working on the truck. Dean had shown him a few things, how to change the oil, how to tighten loose things, the basics. Lisa had dinner waiting when they got in…it was a perfect, normal evening. Sam was still missing, as was a piece of Dean's soul, but playing cards after dinner with Lisa and Ben helped in the slightest.

Eventually Ben went up to bed and that left Dean with Lisa, who was leaning against his shoulder as they finished up a movie downstairs. It had become almost routine for them, an entirely new routine for Dean. Instead of research, running, hunting, killing, stitching, repeating, he was spending time cooking and driving and working and fixing. But not relaxing. He never totally relaxed, not ever. He was always on alert just in case something in the middle of nowhere decided to pop up.

But those quiet nights with Lisa by his side were the closest he ever got to relaxed.

She went up to bed, he checked the protections on the house, and then followed her up. After that, everything was fuzzy and the next thing he knew, he was coming to in the even more fuzzy world of the hospital with an old Sam and an old Cas looking down on him.

He didn't wake up next to Lisa, like he had expected, and he didn't take Ben to school on his way to work like normal. The routine he had carefully begun to build up over the weeks had suddenly come crashing down, leaving him trapped in the rubble without a shovel to dig himself out and no Lisa or Ben to lend a helping hand. Because much like him, they didn't remember.

That last memory he had from back when things made sense was probably the last image of them he'd ever see until he got the rest of his memories back. Dean stopped his brain right before he could go into the 'what if you never remember everything?' scenarios.

Dean eventually came back to himself, unsure of how long he had been thinking, but Luna still seemed to be in no hurry to get him to talk.

"I…stayed with an old friend, Lisa, and her son, Ben, while Sam was away for a while. I went to bed one night, woke up the next in a hospital. Or so it seemed," he let out a breathy attempt at a laugh and shook his head.

Luna only nodded slowly. "That must have been quite jarring. To have something one moment and not the next."

Dean found himself nodding along to that also, because she was right. He was still getting over the whiplash in a way.

She shifted a bit in the chair, pen still in her hands. "I don't suppose there's a way you could contact them? We have a few technicians who are very good with these situations…" she trailed off she she noticed Dean shaking his head.

"Apparently we had a falling out and didn't talk after," he said eventually, wanting to talk about anything except this topic in particular.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said again, and again sounding like she honestly meant it.

"I am too," Dean added quietly, still shaking his head ever so slightly. "But I mean, hey, what's the point on dwelling on it? It happened years ago, I'm probably over it by now, no point on bringing it up," he deflected eventually. It was a poor attempt at a cover up, but everything about this was making his chest tight. Because it was still jarring and it was still fresh and he should be over it…but he knew it wasn't fair to anyone to think like that, but it didn't help.

"Nobody expects you to be alright with every single thing the moment you start getting things together," Lena replied in a soft tone. "You're missing a lot of time, Dean, it's a lot to get used to and it's a lot to rediscover and relearn and get familiar with."

Dean would have scoffed at that, but he knew she was only doing her best. She probably saw it in his face because she continued.

"And you can't expect yourself to be okay with all of this either."

"You think I'm okay with all this?"

Luna shook her head. "I think you're trying to convince yourself that you should be, but you can't. It's a common enough sentiment, people want things to go back to the way they were immediately, but it simply can't happen. You need-"

"Time and space and a clear head and stuff like that, right?"

"Someone to go through things with," Luna amended, since Dean had taken her other options. "And since Lisa isn't here, I'm guessing Sam can help out with that, yes?"

Dean was about to nod, but he stopped himself. Sam could help to a degree, and Dean knew that he wanted to help in any way he could. His little brother was trying to fix his big brother for a change. But seeing the impact his resurfacing memories had on Sam…it wasn't good. In a way, Sam was having to relive everything along with him. Bobby, Dean being a demon apparently, and whatever else would eventually come next.

"Yeah," Dean said quietly in a way that was not at all convincing. His eyes drifted down to the gold charm on his neck and he remained silent.

Luna, thankfully, seemed to get the hint that the 'icebreaker' session was getting more serious, and so she switched to another topic. She jotted down a few notes, which Dean guessed were probably topics to discuss next time, but started asking him about cars again.

After a few minutes of talking about how he had repaired the Impala and everything that went into it, Dean's muscles began to relax a little. He was still more guarded, but he was grateful to be talking about something that wasn't quite so compromising and difficult. He could talk about cars all day long if he had to, but everything else not so much. He knew the time would come when he'd probably have to talk it through, but it wouldn't be this session and this day.

As promised, Dean texted Sam as soon as the hour was up and leaned against the wall of the hospital's exterior for a few minutes, enjoying being out of the confines of the office. The Impala eventually rumbled up, Dean watching carefully to make sure that Sam was driving it alright.

Instead of just picking him up, Sam pulled into a spot, shut the car off, and got out of the seat before he tossed Dean the keys.

"You're serious?" Dean asked, a bit of light in his eyes.

"Hey, doc said you're cleared to drive, so why not?" Sam replied with a slight smile on his face as he walked around to the passenger seat and got in.

Dean pretended that it was just Sam getting back into normal habits and not a distraction from what he must have looked like after the session, but Dean would take any attempt at normal he could get.

Dean jingled the keys in his hand for a moment before he slid into the driver's side and put the key in. Man, he had missed driving Baby and they were still in the parking lot. Sam watched him more carefully than he usually did, but he had reason, as Dean got out of the lot and onto the streets.

"How'd it go?" Sam eventually asked, as Dean hadn't given him a report on it.

Dean shrugged, keeping his hands on the wheel and eyes on the road. "Fine. Was like an icebreaker session. She asked about my life, we talked about cars, stuff like that," he said, omitting some of the details.

Sam nodded at the explanation.

"Set up another meeting, she thinks once a week would be good," Dean added, to which Sam turned his head to look at him better.

"And you're okay with that? I mean, that's good to hear, just want to make sure it's alright," Sam said, having not expected the total 180.

"Couldn't hurt, right?" Dean said, casting Sam a quick glance. He didn't want to go back necessarily, but both his brother and the doc had points. "Besides, she'd hound me if I said no," he added as a bit of a cover.

"Good point," Sam let out a breathy laugh, though Dean's little brother senses let him know that Sam wasn't totally buying the whole thing. Which was fine, because Dean wasn't buying it all either.

Once they got back to the bunker they said hey to Cas, talked a bit, and collectively got something together for dinner. They ended up in Sam's room to watch an episode of Game of Thrones, of which Cas was pretty confused about, having come in during the middle of a season. Amid his somewhat stupid questions Dean found himself smiling as he and Sam explained, but there was still something irking him.

If only he could explain the mess in his head as well as he could explain the mess of plot lines on screen…

He excused himself to go to bed after two episodes, but even after getting ready and shutting off the lights, his brain kept going. He was thinking, trying to dig at memories that weren't there, trying to find ways to word everything to Sam and Cas that wouldn't cause them to relive it all over again.

By the time he looked back at his clock, an hour had passed, the bunker was quiet, and Dean sat up in bed. An idea had started forming in his head, one that was getting harder to push down.

He needed out, he just needed some space to think. Sure, he had a room by himself, but he needed actual space…just for a few hours. Being trapped in the office and then stuck in an underground bunker with no windows definitely wasn't helping anything. There were two places that made sense for him to go, but after some thinking, he had it narrowed down to one. It was a few hours away, but it was one of the last places where things made some semblance of sense.

Soon, Dean was up and putting on his boots, mind made up. Sam would be pissed, Cas too probably, but Dean needed to go. Just a few hours to sort things out, he told himself. He wasn't dropping off the face of the earth, he was just going on a mental health trip.

Dean scrawled a quick note in explanation and left it on his pillow, because Sam would probably check his room first for anything. With practiced stealth, Dean slipped out of his room, past the library, and down to the garage without encountering Sam or Cas or making a sound.

He creaked open the Impala's door and got in, smiling for a split second at the familiar position behind the driver's seat, before he got the car turned on and drove out of the garage, hoping the walls were thick enough to mask the sound of the growling engine.

The ground passed quickly under the tires on the backroads that crisscrossed Kansas. Dean didn't need a map for where he was going. The sun eventually began to rise and by that time, his phone had rung five separate times, but remained untouched on the passenger seat. On the sixth time, Dean pressed play on whatever tape had been in the player. He just needed a few hours to himself, by himself, with nothing else. Sam would probably catch up anyways. What Dean would do when Sam found him, he didn't know, but he'd figure it out…more or less.

That was the story of their lives, anyways, they'd figure it out. No reason to stop with that motto now, no matter how poorly it seemed to be working.

First things first, I apologize for the late update. It's been a bad few weeks all around, and I just needed a bit of extra time to get this chapter going, so fingers crossed it turned out alright. How's Dean dealing with Dr. Hall? Where's he off to? And exactly how unhappy will Sam be with this latest development? Lots of questions :) thanks to Celtic Knot, TXKimsonFan, and DearHart for reviewing, you guys keep me going after these bad few weeks, it's always wonderful to hear your comments.

NOTE: There will also not be another chapter this coming weekend. I know, I know, I'm sorry, but I'm actually headed to Vegascon *Yay!* and have an English essay to do beforehand, so time will have to be spent writing that first. If anyone else is going, shoot me a message! Anyways, I'll see you guys next week with the resolution to this mini cliffhanger! Thanks for reading!