I would like to thank all of you to take time to read this fic
To put her in your favorite…
Thank you so much….
CHAPTER 9: WHEN DESTINY MEETS REASON
Dean woke up early this Thursday morning. He took the book and slid it in his belt. He knew Mary would have breakfast at 6:30 am right before the morning visit of her patients.
Since he started working in the East quarter he's never met her again and he hadn't search for it.
When he entered the refectory, she was already here talking to a nurse. Dean saw that nurse before but never spoke to her so he didn't know her name. There were more than 20 staff members in St Gerry, Dean knew a few of them but he never tried to know more.
She saw him standing away from their table staring at them a little embarrassed, so after a few words the nurse stood up and left, offering her sit to Dean. He put his plate full of French toasts and eggs on the table.
"Good morning, Dean."
"Hi." He took the book and put it on the table.
She smiled looking at the book while Dean was making him comfortable.
"Garth told me you're doing a great job in the East quarter."
"Did he?" He replied looking at his plate.
"Yes." She leaned back in her sit holding her cup of coffee, trying to make her fingers warmer, she always had cold hands. "You wanted to talk to me?"
"Yes… about the East quarter." He put his fork back on the table "I would like to continue working there."
Mary stared at her coffee "Why?"
"Just… you know… to change." He answered shrugging.
She put her mug back on the table.
"No, Dean. Next Monday Phil will be back and you'll go back to the West quarter, and in a few months Suzanne will be back from her training and she'll take her job back so you'll have to leave."
"So I'm here for six months and you'll throw me away like a piece of garbage?" he asked taking his fork back and playing with his eggs.
"I never said that, Dean. I'm just saying you won't be in charge of the East quarter."
"And of the West quarter either. There are not so many other options left as every other position is provided."
Mary seemed surprised.
"Are you saying you want to stay here?"
He stayed quiet, still playing in his plate.
"Is there something I should know about that you haven't told me?"
She took the book and Dean looked up. He extended his hands to take it back.
"Don't!" He said.
She moved her chair back so she was too far from him to catch it.
"Hey you can't do that!" he almost screamed.
She looked at him surprised by the tone of his voice. He felt the look of the other people here on him.
"It's mine…" He whispered.
She opened it and read without showing anything on her face.
"You wanted to give it to him?"
Dean pushed his plate away.
"I wanted to ask you first… I don't know anything about patients like him and I was afraid to make a mistake."
She gave the book back to him. He took it and put it back on the table. She took her cup of coffee back in her hands and there was a very heavy silence floating in the air.
"Why?" she asked.
"Why what?"
"Why him? There are lots of patients here… why Castiel?"
He was lost in his thoughts, eating his eggs, and the expression on his face changed suddenly.
"I can't explain. It's like that, period."
"Missouri calls it destiny." She smiled.
"What do you call it?"
"I'm a psychiatrist, Dean… I don't believe in destiny."
He swallowed and talked in a casual tone:
"When my week there will be over I…" he paused.
"You what?"
"I'd like to keep visiting him." He said staring at his hands nervously.
"You know just… from time to time." He added trying to sound detached.
Mary leaned back in her chair and pushed a hair lock from her forehead. She saw really well what it cost Dean to ask such a favor from her, which just proved he was already very concerned about Castiel.
"You'll probably leave in six months, Dean… what will happen then?"
"I'll keep visiting him."
"Really? What if you find a job far from here or something happens to you?"
He felt her staring at him… She knew about the Cage.
"How will Castiel handle it? Have you thought about that?"
"I will never leave too far from here. I have a hate/love relationship with this town. Even when I had opportunities I never left, and God knows I wanted to."
She crossed her arms.
"What about that?" she pointed at his blue-green eyebrow.
"Don't ask me to stop."
"Even for him?"
"Because of him." Dean wasn't thinking about Castiel when he said that but about Sam and about all the anger his death was still provoking in him. The Cage was the only way to handle it and letting it out.
"There is someone behind this silence." He whispered.
She looked at him surprised to hear such words in Dean's mouth. He had empty eyes when he looked at Mary.
"I don't try to understand anymore, I just know something connected us. I tried to find a reason for all of this, thinking our broken past was the only reason we're so messed up, but I realized it's not only about that."
He looked at her deep in the eyes.
"I have very few good memories of my childhood, you know… except Sam, all my life was a mess and I'm still fighting this today, but I had the chance to meet great people along the way and they stopped me from falling deep in hell. You can judge my fights in the Cage, but without it I wouldn't be here talking to you today."
"I'm not judging anything, Dean."
"Oh right I almost forgot… you don't judge, you analyze, and I'm here talking about my problems like a douche."
"Dean…" she sighed in a soft voice.
"Alright forget about it… I don't know what happened to me, you're right: in six months I'll be gone and maybe it's better like that. I would hurt him anyway, I always do. I'm not here to make friends, I don't even know how to do that and he's probably feeling better in his fake heaven than in this terrible world bringing him only disappointment."
He stood up, took the book and put it back in his belt.
"You don't even believe a word about what you just said… you wouldn't have come here to talk to me if you did."
He took his plate.
"Leave me alone. Next Monday it will be all over, period."
He turned around and started to leave.
"You can give him the book, Dean."
He stopped a few seconds and started walking again.
"And for the rest…" she whispered to herself "I hate when destiny meets reason." She stood up sighing deeply.
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
When Dean received his first pay check, he invited Sam in a restaurant that one of his coworkers talked to him about, one of those small intimate restaurants. It was the first time for Sam and Dean. They only went once in McDonald's for Sam's tenth birthday but never went back. Sam enjoyed it and kept the Happy Meal box and the toy that was inside: a tiny Darth Vader.
Dean found the toy after Sam was interned, but he had no strength to throw it so he put it in the Impala's trunk. There was a small iron case in his trunk full of souvenirs from his brother.
It was a Mexican restaurant. Dean ordered a lot of different food and they both ate too much. Sam was almost 13 and Dean saw better days to come. He was working and earning his own money, he didn't need his mother or his father anymore, he was the one in charge in the family. Karen and John could buy all the drinks they wanted, Dean didn't care anymore because he knew Sam would have anything he wanted thanks to his job.
Sure it was still hell in the house, but Dean and his brother had found their personal heaven.
It became a ritual: they spent each pay check day in a restaurant. To thank his brother, Sam was working hard in college and he was very successful.
Dean never saw the distress hidden in his brother's eyes. They could feel each other's pain but Dean always thought he was doing enough efforts to save Sam from his demons, but Sam was feeling very guilty to see his brother working so hard to pay his college studies. Dean always said he was happy about it, because Sam's happiness was bringing him happiness too. Sam understood, but he couldn't handle the weight of madness anymore.
That day, the day before the ritual pay check restaurant, Sam came back from college and John was waiting for him in the kitchen, almost sober.
"We need to talk, son."
Sam went to the fridge and swore when he saw there was no soda left, only beers.
"You hear me?"
"I'm not deaf." He answered coldly. He was in a very bad mood because he screwed an important exam that morning and he didn't know how to say to his brother he would probably repeat a year in college if he wasn't making efforts. He actually didn't know how to say to Dean he just didn't want to, he was too tired and couldn't find the strength to do it.
"I need you to talk to your brother."
"Why?"
"Your mother is very sick."
"And?"
"Sam… it's your mother I'm talking about!" John said, shocked.
"My what? Since when?" Sam laughed.
"Doctors say it's a tumor."
Sam took a glass of water. He was feeling bad and guilty but she didn't deserve his pity.
"I don't have enough money to pay her medical assistance." John explained.
"What about the insurance?"
John looked down and Sam stared at him.
"The insurance!" he insisted.
"We have no insurance anymore."
"What? Since when?"
"It doesn't matter when."
"Yeah you both drank the matter out of it, right. Drink it till you die then!" Sam said angrily.
He was about to leave the room when his dad caught him by his sleeve.
"You have to talk to Dean, he will listen to you!"
"Go to hell. I won't talk to Dean, you hear me? Go back to your beer."
Sam brutally pushed him away and left. He wanted to catch his bag but his dad came behind him and pushed him against the wall.
"You little dick! You don't wanna help your mother? Fine… Justice will make you do it then. You still live under our roof, we give you a place to live and we feed you!"
Sam gave him an evil laugh.
"Excuse me? Dean pays half of the rent for the house because you and mom can't deal with a single dollar! He's the one filling the fridge without you caring to fill it… you're way too busy trying to fill your mad-alcoholic stomach!"
Sam received a slap right in the face. Karen just slapped him. He was so shocked he held his cheek in silence.
"I forbid you to talk to your father like that!"
"My father? That piece of garbage who made hell out of our life? And you were the guardian of it by the way! I have only one father, and it's DEAN!" He yelled.
"That little shit? He's just good enough to put new tires on cars!"
"Don't talk about him like that!"
"I talk like I want! He's my son!"
"He's not your son… you're no father and you've never been! You're a monster full of alcohol!"
"A monster who will stay your father whether you like it or not! You don't run from what you are! If I am a monster… a monster you both will be." John gave him an evil look and walked toward the living room.
"If Dean doesn't want to pay for his mother… I'll call a lawyer. We'll see who will have the last word… as long as you'll live in my house you will bow and do what I want!"
Sam heard him opening the closet under the television and he recognized the specific noise of glass.
Karen put her hands in her hair… it was dirty. John and her forgot the way to the bathroom a long time ago. She walked to the kitchen and missed Sam's look turning into darkness and emptiness. It was a fight among others… his failure… his fear to disappoint Dean… years of abuse… Dean always fighting for him… Dean living only for his brother and forgetting to live for himself too because he was thinking he wasn't worth it…
It was too much… he needed to do something for his brother now. He would free him.
When Dean came back home, Sam felt him more than he saw him. An angry scream and footsteps on the floor… time was frozen and then he felt him on his side.
Sam wanted to tell him it was all over, that he was free and could live his own life now, but when he looked in his eyes, right before falling forever, he understood he made a terrible mistake. He just killed his brother because his own life was connected to his brother's. How could he possibly tell him he wasn't as strong as he was? How to say he was too tired? How can you admit to someone you love that you want to die to stop the pain eating your soul?
He turned into emptiness thinking about what he's written on the wall with the blood of his father: "Promise me you will live for me." Dean would know what it meant.
One night, when their father was screaming his rage and hitting them with a wood stick, they promised to each other if one of them died, the other would live to break the curse of their family and give a meaning to their life. They were so young when they promised each other… maybe it would've been stupid a few months later, but a promise is a promise. They would never break one, it was a strength they shared, a connection, a truth… their trust.
That cursed day, Dean whispered in his brother's ear that he would never promise such a thing anymore. He should've followed him the day Sam closed his eyes forever, but since that day he was only surviving.
And then St Gerry Hall happened… and destiny hit him.
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
He casually pushed his cart… talking to Mary disturbed him. She was right though: in six months what would happen? Dean could never know what tomorrow would bring.
There will be a time when he won't be able to fight in the Cage anymore, because of his physical condition or because Gaby wouldn't let him do it anymore, he knew that. In this weird environment made of violence, blood and money, there were rules to follow anyway and one of it was "If a coach gives up on you, no one will give you another chance."
Castiel deserved more than a lost soul without any future and without any hope. He lived his own hell and he couldn't survive living another one.
It was almost 1 pm when he stopped in front of room 14. He glanced through the small window and saw he was here, of course. He typed the code and stepped in the room.
He didn't say hi, he wanted to avoid any contact. He went in the bathroom without a word or a look. Castiel was waiting for the sound of his voice but he didn't sing. He waited for him to come near him but he wasn't even looking at him.
Why?... What did he do wrong again?... Why was he angry at him?
Dean was cleaning the toilet when he heard a thud in rhythm. He stopped what he was doing and stood up.
"Cas?"
He walked toward the room and froze at the bathroom's door: Castiel was knocking his head on the window.
Dean stepped toward him as relaxed as he could even if deep down he just wanted to run and take him away from the window.
"Hey, Cas…"
He stepped forward and ended up standing right next to him.
"Cas it's me… Dean."
The thud stopped but Castiel kept his forehead on the window and turned his face a little to his left. Dean put his forehead on the window too and turned his face to his right to meet his gaze, and then he smiled.
"You brat… you know what you're doing right now? It's called blackmail."
Castiel tilted his head still stuck on the window. Dean stared at him drinking his distress, then he stepped back and sat on the bed.
"In two days I won't be able to come anymore, Cas…" he said in a husky voice. "… Phil will take his position back and I'll take mine in the West quarter."
He looked down to avoid his look.
"I didn't think it would be so hard you know… we don't even know each other and then… you and your fucking eyes talking to me!" he tried to sound like he was joking but his voice was sad.
"Mary doesn't want me to come back here. After all she may be right… in six months my job will end and I'll have to leave so it's better if we keep some distance."
He laughed alone.
"If anyone could hear me right now!" He looked up still laughing and fell on Castiel's gaze. He saw only misery. Castiel understood everything.
"Don't look at me like that… you're making it even more painful." He stood up from the bed.
"I shouldn't have asked to work here. Now I'm being punished for my curiosity or my pride I don't even know what it was in the first place." He admitted and his smile froze.
He took his broom and started to clean the room. Right now he just wanted to cry... yes, right, him… Rage… crying when he hasn't cried since Sam's death.
He was feeling his look calling him, asking him to turn around, but he didn't, and then he heard him walking closer to him.
"Cas no…" he whispered.
He stepped away and put his broom back in the cart. He took the short-handled brush and crouched down to clean the imaginary dust on the floor.
Castiel stepped forward and crouched down a few steps from him. He was still too scared to come closer than that, but for Dean, it was like Castiel was grabbing him. He looked at him from the corner of his eye and noticed he was looking at his toes, his hands crossed on his knees, in a very bad balance. He looked like a submissive animal.
Feeling very uncomfortable, Dean stood up quickly throwing the brush in the garbage on his cart. He glanced at him between the broom and the duster.
"I have something for you… a gift. I wanted to give it to you next Saturday but…"
He took the book.
"I figured we could talk about it tomorrow and the day after, right?"
Castiel didn't move.
"I'll leave it on the table ok?"
He pushed his cart and placed it near the door.
"I hope you'll like it. I thought about you when I saw it in the library."
He hoped Castiel would look at him but he was still crouched looking at his toes.
"Alright… bye Cas." He said opening the door.
"See ya tomorrow." And he left the room.
He pulled his hands in his hair and pressed them on his head: he had to control himself and hold the tears threatening to fall down.
He took a deep breath, looked at the small window on the door, and he left without a look from Castiel.
Mary was right: if a few minutes for a few days provoked such reactions in him and in Castiel already, they were going straight to the wall. All their emotions were passing through their looks and their behaviors. Silence was not a problem for them and it scared Dean. This deep connection between him and Castiel was scary too, it was so different from the one he had with Sam and yet it was so identical at the same time… he needed to know, he needed answers.
wwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
He knocked and entered the office without waiting for an answer. Mary looked up.
"You're a doctor so… help me. Tell me why I can't get this guy out of my head, why is it eating me from the inside, and what the hell is wrong with me?"
She stared at him a long time detecting his distress and his pain.
"Sit down, Dean."
"No!" he said suddenly "I don't want to sit down, I want answers!"
"And you think I have answers to all the questions?"
"Isn't it your job?" he almost screamed in despair.
"Is it becoming attached to someone that scares you so much? Or is it the way it happened?"
He fell on the armchair.
"Both I think… since…" he looked down "since Sam's death…" He sighed "I didn't want to feel that way anymore but here…"
"Feel what way, Dean?"
He bent and put his head on his hands.
"All of this can't lead to something good. How two broken human beings like us could possibly win this? I don't know anything about psychiatry and I'm not talented when it comes to those things."
"Those things?"
"Yeah… social skills you know… human being." He sighed.
"What do you think about yourself, Dean?"
"What I… " He sighed deeply again very surprised by her question "I always screw everything when it comes to relationships and it's not today it will change. I have no friends and I never had because I don't know how friendship works, I have no girlfriend because I am totally unable to give them what they want you know… tenderness and everything… I can't… it was only for Sam."
"What about Castiel?"
He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling.
"When I see how it ended with Sam…"
"Are you afraid to lose him too?" Mary asked surprised by her own question.
Dean laughed ironically.
"This is ridiculous, I don't even know him. I never heard about him before starting to work here. The Attic Boy… I didn't even really hear about it and frankly if I had I probably wouldn't have cared. I have my hell too. But then all of this happened and he screwed up with my miserable life, just with a look."
"Did he screw up with your life? Didn't he give it a new meaning?"
Dean tilted his head.
"Since your brother's death you try to find a meaning to your life because whether you want to admit it or not, you want to live your life, you fought to keep it."
"If I'm alive today it's only because I promised him."
"Dean…" Mary sighed "Don't use your brother as an excuse to survive, because you don't even believe it anymore. Does it hurt so much to want to live even if it's without him?"
Dean stood up angrily.
"When he died I died with him!"
"No… when he died you felt free and this is what's killing you, Dean." She corrected.
"You don't know me and you don't know anything about my life… you think reading a file about me written buy a fucking bureaucrat makes you an expert?"
He stepped forward furious.
"Since Sam's death I pray every morning to not wake up the next day, I am NOTHING without Sam, can't you understand that? Nothing… he was my only reason to live and I lost it. I should've followed him."
"If he let you the opportunity to do it, you wouldn't have follow, Dean… The rage eating you is not about yourself, it's about him because he gave up and he left you alone… he died and he wasn't as strong as you were. He broke the connection you thought was unbreakable and you're mad at him for that."
"SHUT UP!" Dean yelled taking his head in his hands. "How dare you?" He asked in a broken voice.
Mary stood up and walked toward him.
"In that Cage, you're facing your rage but you don't want to admit the reality. He wasn't as strong as you are… I've read his file too."
He turned around, his green eyes full of anger.
"Who told you to read his file?" he thundered.
"Dean you're in a hospital… I have to know who I deal with when I give a job to someone. It's not about you or Sam here, it's about my patients."
Dean closed his eyes and tried to contain his anger eating him from the inside. Mary noticed it and she stepped back as she wanted to sit back behind her desk.
"You can't blame yourself for the choice your brother made. He would've been dead earlier if you weren't here. You have to admit you can't save everyone because some people don't want to be saved."
"Out of the mouth of a psychiatrist it's almost funny." He said sarcastically.
"Yes, I'm a psychiatrist, Dean… not a magician. I know I can't cure everyone in this place, but if I can at least ease their pain it will be a victory for me. The few patients who make it and go out of here to start a new life are my reward. The others are my own failures and it makes me doubt each time I realize I failed, but I keep fighting to avoid it the most I can. I am fighting for them."
Dean calmed down, the storm was finally over.
"You really think we have a chance with Cas?" he whispered shyly.
"I think you are his chance."
He frowned and walked to the door. He stopped when he opened it, his hand on the doorknob.
"Don't talk to me about my brother the way you did today or you won't see me anymore. I'm not one of your patients, doctor. And forget about Cas. I will end this next Saturday."
He closed the door on a very disappointed Mary.
End of chapter IX