His Thoughts on Therapy Part 1
Summary: Dean is forced to go to therapy. He doesn’t want to, but he ends up meeting a friend.
Warnings: Dean being emotional because of the fire, therapy, car issues, cussing
Words: 2600
Dean x reader!platonic
Sam x reader!platonic
Dean x therapist!Dr. Sky
Masterlist of Masterlists
“Go.” Sam growled. “Or I’ll take you there myself!”
Dean has made a bet of sorts with Sam. If his drinking became more frequent, Sam was going to be in charge of buying the beer and Dean would have to go to a therapist. They had experienced a lot, and they both knew that. Sam could see Dean fading, so he laid down the law, and Dean was not cooperating.
“I’ll pour all the beer down the drain right now if you don’t go to your appointment. It’s in twenty minutes.” He was toward the fridge.
“OKAY!” Dean stood up quickly and grabbed his keys. “Don’t touch what beer I have left.” He groaned.
“Bye!” Sam sighed, happy he won the argument.
Dean went to his therapist for a few sessions. He was very saddened when he saw that she was older than him and not his type. Dean did not want to be there, and it showed. He liked her, but he was not the ‘spill his guts’ type of person. His therapist made an off comment about her mom passing, and Dean’s heart dropped.
“My mom is gone too,” he said sadly.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Dean.” She frowned.
“Yeah, it was a while ago. It’s fine.”
“You’re really good at not really dealing with anything, are you?” The doctor said seriously.
“What gave it away? My sarcasm, deflection, or self-preservation?” He grinned. “Look, doc,” Dean sighed. “My mom died when I was four. My dad told me to get Sam, so I got my brother out before the fire engulfed the stairs. Dad was fine, but my mom didn’t come out of the house with him.”
“Wow,” the doctor said, almost judgingly.
“What? My story not good enough for you? I got more if you-” Dean raised his voice in defense.
“No, Dean,” she put a hand up asking him to calm down. “What I meant was that just from that one story you’ve told me, it tells me a lot about you.”
He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“Like what?”
“You grew up a lot that night. I’d put my money on you as the protector and preserver of the family. You probably blame your dad for your mom’s death in a way.”
“Woah, my dad-”
“I’m sorry. That was very forward of me.” She frowned again.
“I was in charge of Sammy, and he was supposed to get Mom. He didn’t. End of story.”
“Mhmm.” Doctor Sky eyed him.
“Okay, I’m done,” Dean stood and put the pillows back where they were placed at the beginning of the session. “I’m done with you psychoanalyzing me.” He stormed out. She didn’t chase after him. The oldest Winchester walked down the steps to the parking lot. Sitting in the Impala, Dean froze, not understanding his emotions. All of a sudden, he realized he had hiccups.
Why am I crying? I don’t cry!
But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean covered his face with his hands and sobbed.
YN was late for her appointment. She quickly walked from her car and ran up the stairs to the door she needed to enter. An hour later, she noticed a car in the same spot that it was in when she had arrived. Dean sat blankly in Baby, not seeing YN approaching. She saw tear stains on his face and his eyes puffy.
“Here,” she said, her hand extended with tissues, offering them to him. Dean jumped. “Sorry. Thought you could use them is all. Have a good day.” YN walked toward her car when he heard him call for her. “Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
“Sure.”
Dean was surprised by the interaction. No questions about why he was acting the way he was. He appreciated it since he was, once again, not a ‘spill-the beans’ type of a person.
The next time he saw his therapist, he apologized for his actions. Dean himself was surprised he even went back, but he knew he needed to or Sam would not buy him any drinks.
“Let’s talk about something else today. Other than your mom, how was it growing up? Are you and your little brother still close?”
“Sammy and I live together. He’s a lawyer, I’m a mechanic. I can’t afford a house, so he lets me rent a room. He’s taller, but I’m cooler,” Dean laughed, and so did the doctor. “Growing up, my dad was gone a lot. He had to run the shop pretty much by himself. I had to take care of Sammy.”
“You’re still very connected with him, that’s very nice to hear. A lot of clients don’t have healthy family relationships if I’m being honest.”
“We’re all we got, I guess.”
“Do you get along with your father? Does he still run the shop?”
Dean winced.
“Am I missing something?” She asked, sincere.
“He passed away a few years ago. A car was on the lift, one of the arms broke. He pushed me out of the way. He didn’t make it.”
“Wow, Dean. That’s a lot.”
“Yeah. My brother has dealt with it better than I have. He exercises regularly, I... “ he stopped himself. “I don’t make healthy choices.” Dean laughed. “I drink sometimes. Sammy said if I continued, I needed to see a therapist. So, here I am.” Dean looked up from his fingers nervously running over a couch pillow placed on his lap.
“Good for you.”
“Huh?” He was confused.
“For seeking help. You’ve been through a lot, Dean. I have something I want you to try. Can you draw?”
“I used to draw my own comics as a kid.”
“Perfect. Here,” his therapist reached in her drawer and pulled out a sketch pad. “Use this. In two weeks, I want you have completed a scenario from your own life where you were hurt. But remember that you’re the comic book hero in this.”
Dean’s face dropped.
“If you want me to read it, I will. If not, that’s okay too.”
Dean relaxed.
“Okay,” he followed her lead as she stood and led him to the door.
“Great. You did wonderful today, and I’m so happy to have you as a client, Dean. Have a wonderful day.”
Dean passed someone on the steps as he walked down to his car. He heard sniffles. Dean turned and found the girl he had seen previously.
“Hey, tissues.” he smirked at his nickname for her. She startled and looked at him. “You okay, kid?” He saw bruises on her arm. When she realized they were noticeable, she adjusted her sleeve.
“Yeah, just got robbed. I’m okay,” she shrugged, trying to keep the tears away.
“Shit, kid. Let me see,” Dean walked toward her, but she recoiled. Forgetting how large he was compared to her, he didn’t realize how he came across. He put his hands up. “Just trying to repay the favor from the other day. Promise I’m not here to hurt you.” Dean slowly sat down on the steps next to her. He was surprised at her openness and trust level. YN pulled her sleeves up to her elbows. She had a few scrapes, but she looked to be okay. “Looks like you need some tissues this time,” Dean grinned. She smiled. “I’m Dean.”
“YN.”
“Are you here with your parents or someone who can help you?”
“I don’t have anybody in this town. Going to college here for the first semester.”
“Eighteen?”
“Twenty. Transferred from a junior college.” She looked at her phone. “Shit. I”m late for my session. Thanks, Dean. See you around.”
“Bye, Tissues.” Dean grinned.
“Whatever, asshole,” she retorted, returning his expression.
Dean kept thinking about his interactions with YN. He felt bad for her that she was so young and on her own. Obviously smart and cared for her mental health, but he somehow felt protective of her.
“Kid?” Dean saw her in the grocery store. She turned.
“Hi Dean. How are you?”
“I’m good. Uh. This is my brother, Sam.”
“Hi,” Sam extended his hand and shook hers.
“Damn, they make you guys big.” YN giggled. “You from Texas or something?”
“Nah, right here,” Dean laughed. “Hey, you doing better today?” He leaned in closer so that others wouldn’t hear.
“Much, thanks.”
“Here, take my number, and you can call us if you need anything.” He ripped off part of his grocery list and wrote his cell phone number on it.
“Are you sure?” YN gasped at his sweetness.
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I need to go, but thanks, boys. I appreciate it, really.”
“Not a problem,” Sam said. “I’m hungry, let’s go, dude.”
“So what was that about? You don’t just hand your number out to people these days.” Sam looked up at his brother that evening at dinner.
“Nothing. She’s a kid and she needs help sometimes just like we all do. She told me outside the therapy office that she doesn’t have anyone here because she’s going to KU, not from here. YN is down on her luck, that’s all.”
“You’re not asking her-”
“Eww! No. Gross.”
“Okay, okay,” Sam leaned back. “Just trying to understand.
“She was black and blue the other day, Sammy. You would have done the same thing.”
“Whatever, dude.”
A few days later, Dean heard his phone go off in the middle of the night.
“What?” He groaned, sleepy.
“Dean, it’s YN… from therapy.”
His eyes widened and his senses were alert.
“What’s wrong?” Dean immediately sat up in bed, concerned.
“I got stuck in the road. I heard you were a mechanic? Do you happen to have a tow truck? My starter is shot because of the storm and mud or whatever. I’ll pay you for it, but can you help me?”
Dean heard the waver in her voice.
“Where are you?”
She told him the cross streets, and he told her he would be there in fifteen minutes.
“You’re on the side of the road, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Stay in your car, you don’t need to be stranded AND wet from the storm. You’ll be okay. I’ll be right there.”
“Thanks, Dean.”
When she saw a large truck getting closer, she flashed her head lights and tail lights at him. Dean pulled in front of her car. Getting out, he motioned for her to get into his vehicle.
“The heat is on, stay warm! There are blankets in the back. I’m going to put your front tires on the back of my truck and then we can go. Just give me a few!” Dean shouted over the rain pouring.
“Okay!” YN ran to get into the warm vehicle. She looked over her shoulder and saw flannel blankets on the floorboard.
Ten minutes later, Dean came inside. Soaked from the storm, he tried to warm up by putting his sleeves next to the vents.
“Here,” YN grabbed an extra blanket. She motioned for him to lean his head toward her. YN ran the blanket through his hair to get the excess water off. “Take your shirt off, it’s sopping wet.”
“I’m okay.” He smiled, thanking her for thinking of him.
“You’ll catch a cold, it’s fine.” She waited until he complied. “Wrap this around you,” YN offered him the blanket.
“Thanks,” he sighed. “Let’s get you home.”
After agreeing that he would take her car to the shop in the morning, he told her good night.
“Tissues!” He yelled through the noise of the storm. She turned. “I’ll give you an update tomorrow. Don’t worry about it, okay? Go dry off!”
“Okay!” YN hurried into her apartment before stripping off her clothes and blow drying her hair. Retrieving her pajamas from the dryer, she settled in for the night.
Thank God for that Winchester guy.
“Hi Dean,” YN answered the phone the next evening.
“Hey Tissues! Your car is at the shop. We’ve got a starter for you. You’ll have it back tomorrow.”
“Oh, that’s awesome. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s usually one hundred, but it was an easy job, so don’t worry about it.”
“You came and got me at 2am, brought me home, and then fixed my car. AND YOU DON’T WANT ANYTHING FOR IT?”
“How about you buy me and the guys two pizzas? ‘That fair?”
“Oh my gosh. Dean, yes. Thank you!” YN squealed into the phone.
“I’ll call you when it’s done, okay?”
“Thanks, Dean!”
Dean checked on her every few weeks after that. Dean tried harder in therapy, realizing the value of it as he attended more sessions.
“YN told me what you did for her. How did that make you feel?”
“Good, I guess. She needed some help, and I could help her. She doesn’t think I’m a creep or something, right? I could be her dad, I was just trying to be nice.” Dean sputtered out.
“I think it’s fine, Dean.” The doctor laughed. “What I mean is that you gave of yourself when you didn’t have to.”
“I guess.”
Dean texted YN that night and asked if she needed anything.
YN: Nope, thanks, Winchester.
Dean: No problem, T.
YN: When are you going to stop with the ‘Tissues’ thing?
Dean: You don’t like it?
YN: Dork.
Dean: Whatever.
“I’m not going! I don’t feel good!”
“You’re not sick. So help me, I will dump that whole six pack down the drain if you don’t go to therapy today!” Sam chased after his brother.
“I’m- she makes me think, and I don’t like it!”
Sam chuckled.
“That’s her job, asshole.”
“Shut up. Fine. I’m going. You better not touch my beer.”
“Hi, Dean.” YN passed him after her session with their therapist. “How are you?”
“Not today, kid.” He ran past her and let the door slam as he entered the suite.
“Damn. Whatever, Winchester.”
“What’s going on today, Dean?” His therapist got comfortable in her chair.
“I’m fine,” he shrugged.
“Is that why everything you’ve done while in my office has included sudden movements? And maybe the reason you sound like an elephant stomping around?” She raised a brow.
“Doc, I don’t want to be here, okay?”
“You’re only here because of Sam, yeah, I got that. What’s going on? No therapy talk, just a conversation.”
I don’t know. Okay? I’ve been a mess since I’ve been coming to see you, and I don’t know why. I also don’t like it.”
“Ah. So then why are you still here? Other than your brother making you? There has to be something else.” Doctor Sky at him squarely.
“I’ve never felt like this before. I’m an emotional mess and yet it feels good…? Is that weird?” Dean readjusted his sitting position on the office couch.
“That makes perfect sense. You’re exploring parts of your life that you haven’t in a long time, Dean. It feels good to get it out, doesn’t it?”
“Odd, I think is a better word for it.” Dean huffed. “I hate being here, but I feel better about everything too.”
“That’s not at all a surprise to me, Dean.” She pulled out a pen and wrote a note to herself. :THat shows growth. I think you’ve grown.”
“I guess.”
“Did you write in your comic book?”
“Oh. Yeah.” Dean pulled it out from his large back pocket. He tried to hand it to her. Before reaching for it, she tilted her head.
“I gave you the option of not sharing it with me. Are you sure you want to?”
He extended it further.
“Did you enjoy putting your comic together?” His therapist flipped through a few pages and then looked up at him.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say it was fun, but I would rather do that than write it out.” Dean shrugged.
“Noted. So I see in here you depicted the fire.”
“And the time I had to take Sammy to the emergency room on my bike because he broke his arm,” he grinned at the memory.
“Oh my.” Dr. Sky smiled. “Sounds like a story for another time. Please keep using this, I think it will be beneficial to you. When you need a new one, let me know.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m very proud of you for sticking this out. I think we should talk about some coping skills for you.”
“Come on, doc.” Dean adjusted his jacket on his shoulders, showing his uncomfortableness.
“You’re showing new emotions, you need to know what to do with them, don’t you think?” His therapist put her notebook to the side.
“Do you enjoy physical activity, sports, watching TV?”
“All of the above.”
“When you start to feel out of control, use one of those. It’s good to feel emotions, and it’s healthy, but don’t let your mind stay there.”
“Makes sense.”
“You’re doing great, Dean. Keep up the good work.”
