FACING YOUR DEMONS

Chapter 5

Everything is not always as it seems ...

xxxxx

Sam wasn't in the habit of staring at peoples' imperfections; he was well aware that it was unforgivably rude, but somehow in this case, he just couldn't help himself.

He guessed that if he was about to unleash Captain Jack Sparrow's uncle onto his traumatised brother, he should at least get a good look at him first just to make sure there was no immediate need for him to reach for the silver bullets.

Grimacing as the dentist twitched again, he gritted his teeth when Dean twitched in response, seemingly developing a nervous tic on the spot.

Awesome, now he had two of them at it.

Closing his eyes, Sam reflected that his really wasn't what he'd envisaged when he'd spent an entire morning trawling the internet to seek out someone dependable and reassuring who could deal with Dean's dental dramas.

He didn't open them again until he heard the dentist's voice break the awkward silence.

"Roger Walker," the man smiled, and pointed amiably to his head; "don't let this concern yo-ou," his words stuttered as he twitched again; "Ninth Marine Corps; took a machete to the noggin back in 'n-nam," he grinned, twitching again; "field surgeon screwed my nut back together used a steel plate and some duct tape or somethin' like that."

"It's a bitch when I X-ray my patients," Walker continued, calmly adjusting his eye patch; "can't be in the room with 'em else my noggin sparks like a freakin' Catherine Wheel!"

Sam blinked silently, trying desperately hard not to notice Dean twitch again. Judging by the colour of Dean's face, he guessed passing out into a dead faint had suddenly become a very real possibility. A brief flash of hope crossed Sam's mind when he thought that if Dean did faceplant across the floor he might knock his bad tooth out, but then reality intervened and he remembered that they were Winchesters and so could never be that lucky. Dean would probably just end up with a sore tooth AND a broken nose.

Plastering a smile across his face, he nodded, trying to respond in a manner that suggested he wasn't a complete moron.

He failed.

"Oh you don't wanna worry about this," Walker smiled again, seemingly well used to being stared at. He pointed to his head as it twitched again; "the old dome might have a m-mind of its own, but trust me, these hands – solid as a rock."

He held out two gnarled hands for the brothers to see and Sam was mildly reassured to see that they didn't twitch along with his head.

Chancing a glance to his side, he tried to gauge the expression frozen onto Dean's grey face.

'Reassured' wasn't one of the words that sprung to his mind.

xxxxx

Walker stepped toward Dean, approaching him as if he were approaching a skittish horse. "I'm guessin' you're my patient," he smiled kindly; "call it a hunch, and the chipmunk cheek's a dead giveaway too."

Dean pulled in a sharp breath and nodded; he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

"Y'know, I saw a lot of shit in 'nam," Walker explained calmly; "I was a m-medical orderly - retrained as a dentist when I left the service. Saw guys traumatised, scared of their own freakin' shadow, scared of stuff men ain't s'posed to be scared of. But I'm tellin' you, these guys weren't cowards; no siree – far from it. They were heroes, every single one of them. Heroes who were jus' trying to be too strong for too much of the time."

He paused for a moment, to let his words sink in. "Your brother told me you do a dangerous job with lots of responsibility, and I can see a whole load of what I saw in 'nam in you right now."

"I saw it all the time in the field hospital; when a strong man has to stop being strong an' rely on someone else to b-be strong for him it's freakin' scary man, I get it. I do."

Sam could see what Walker was doing and suddenly he saw the truth. He saw someone Dean could relate to and respect; someone he could look up to; someone who wouldn't patronise him or make him feel stupid; and above all, someone who Dean wouldn't want to disappoint.

Hell, Walker could have been their father.

Sam could see the hero behind the damaged exterior.

"I w-wanna help you buddy," Walker explained quietly, calmly; "let me give you a dose of the good stuff, huh?"

Sam looked sideways at Dean who stood beside him gnawing his lip and who thankfully appeared to have stopped twitching. It seemed like an age before Dean pulled in a deep breath and even longer before he nodded. "Yeah," he replied, clearer and more confidently than he had sounded all day.

"Attaboy," Walker smiled; "d'y want your brother to come in with you?"

Dean squared his shoulders; "no," he shook his head; "let's do this."

Walker nodded with a smile and gestured Dean toward the treatment room.

"After you," he replied, pausing as Dean turned toward the room, casting a hesitant glance toward Sam.

"See you later dude," Sam smiled encouragingly; "I hope everything comes out okay," he added with a wicked grin.

A grin which broadened as Dean flipped him off seconds before disappearing through the treatment room door which closed quietly behind him.

xxxxx

Sam smiled to himself as he sat back into one of the waiting room's comfortably overstuffed easy chairs with a coffee and a candy bar from the vending machine.

He'd set out to find Dean a nice, kind dentist who could hopefully put Dean at ease.

What he'd actually found was a gold-plated (or steel-plated as the case may be) hero; the perfect person to help Dean.

Settling back into the deeply padded seat with a relieved sigh, Sam took a long sip of his coffee and opened up a musty copy of National Geographic.

Job well done, Sam Winchester.

xxxxx

tbc