Psych 101 - Chapter 4
When Sam and Dean Winchester walked out of her office nearly four months ago Melanie was sure she would never see them again. Which is why she nearly falls out of her chair when she sees their name scheduled for her final appointment on a random Thursday evening.
She’s excited all day, can’t stop wondering what they’ll look like, why they’re coming back, if it’s just Sam, if Dean comes will he talk? It’s completely unprofessional, unfair to her other clients and inappropriate to be this wrapped up in her clients after just one short, unsuccessful session.
When they finally do arrive they look terrible, like they haven’t slept in weeks, eyes red and puffy with dark circles underneath, skin pale and hair lanky. They’re both stooped a little, as if they’re too tired to stand up straight.
And yet they’re still undeniably beautiful.
“Sam. Dean. Your back.” She lets her pleasure at seeing them show and is rewarded with one of Sam’s dimpled smiles when he shakes her hand.
“We want to try again.”
Dean’s already seated on the couch, hunched over, hands clenching his knees. Sam waits for Melanie to take her seat before sitting down on the other end of the couch, hands rubbing along his thighs before gripping his knees, just like his brother.
“The last time you were here tings were a bit tense between the two of you. I’m wondering if this time, separate sessions would be more beneficial.” Happy to see them or not Melanie still has a job to do and the session might be more productive one-on-one.
“Look, I know we probably need years of therapy, both together and individually, but we don’t have time for that.” Sam sounds anxious, earnest.
“Okay…” and Melanie can’t help but be incredibly curious about that bit of information. “That means you both have to committee and be willing to do the work.”
Sam nods immediately but that’s hardly a surprise, Sam wasn’t the one she was talking to. Not really. She looks over at Dean. “Dean?”
He still looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but when he lets out a deep sigh Melanie can see just how tired he is, both physically and emotionally. “Yeah. I’m in.”
“Alright, lets get started.”
XXXX
Five hours later Melanie is sitting at home, a glass of wine in one hand, her phone in the other. She’s debating whether or not to make the call.
Rick’s been her therapist since she graduated, recommended by a former professor who thought they’d be a good fit. She’d been right. Melanie used to go to Rick a lot in the years after she graduated, when she was still getting her feet wet, learning how to truly compartmentalize and handle the emotional drain from patients.
But beyond seeing him at a few conferences where they were both speaking she hasn’t seen or spoken to him in a few years. Hasn’t really needed to. When she started seeing hunters there were a few times she wanted to call but was never sure what to say, how to explain what she was feeling without giving him details that would have him sending over men in white lab coats.
But after tonight’s session with the Winchesters, she really needs to call. They’d filled her in on everything, about their mother’s death and being raised as hunters, about Stanford and the death of Sam’s girlfriend, about Sam’s visions and the demon Azazel, about their father’s death and Dean’s guilt, about Sam’s death and Dean’s deal, about Sam’s guilt and Ruby, about the blood and raise Lucifer. And how for the past few weeks, every time they go to sleep they’re being bullied by angels to give up their bodies so Michael and Lucifer can fight to the death and bring on the end of the world.
It’s a lot of information to absorb in one sitting, a lot of world changing, life or death information. And Melanie suddenly feels a lot of pressure to help.
Rick picks up on the fifth ring. It’s late and there’s a good chance she woke him. She jumps a little when she hears his voice.
“Melanie?” His voice is a mixture of surprise and concern. This is probably the last phone call he expected to get tonight.
“Do you believe in Hell?” That was not what she planned on saying but Rick’s always been able to get her to ignore her inner filter.
“Do I believe in Hell?” He sounds unsure of the question.
“Yeah. As a literal place. Do you believe in Hell?”
“No I don’t. I think it’s allegorical. What’s going on Melanie? You’ve never been religious, certainly not Catholic. Has something happened?”
“I’ve been doing a lot of pro-bono work with the military, seeing a lot guys who just came home and they all talk about hell. And they make it sound like they were really there, like they were really in the pits of hell.”
“Well, to them, it probably was.”
“Yeah. It’s just…they believe it. Completely. And sometime I’m not sure how to help them. And sometimes it scares me. They’ve all got pretty sever PTSD, suffering from nightmares, flashbacks, survivors guilt and…I’m the one that’s scared.”
“Working with recently returned vets is incredibly difficult. It’s natural that there be some emotional bleed.”
“I know. I know this…god I feel like such an idiot for calling you.”
“Don’t. it’s what I’m here for. Should I make room for you tomorrow?”
“Not tomorrow. I’m slammed all week but, maybe next week?”
“I’ll call you. Till then I want you to start keeping a journal again. Just write a little every night, get some of out. And make sure you’re sleeping, at least six hour Melanie. No excuses. Alright?”
“Alright.”
“Good. Now, put the wine away and go to bed. I’ll call you next week to set up an appointment.”
Melanie doesn’t even bother taking her wine glass into the kitchen, just rolls over and falls right to sleep.
XXXX
The next morning Melanie drags herself into the office, already drinking her third cup of heavily caffeinated tea, forcing herself awake after only a few hours of sleep. Rachel’s already there, setting up the office for the day. Melanie has her cancel all her appointments for the day and the beginning of next week as well.
“All of them?”
“All of them. Tell them I have an emergency and reschedule them.” If Sam and Dean’s situation isn’t an emergency she doesn’t know what is. They’ve agreed to a week of intense therapy. Melanie knows they need more than that - years more - but it’s a start. For now.
“Okay. But folks are not gonna be happy about this.” Rachel has a bad habit of stating the obvious.
“They’ll live. Please let me know when the Winchesters arrive.” Melanie goes to hide in her office till then.
XXXX
“Yesterday we talked about anger, specifically your anger Dean, at Sam for his actions. And yet you seem to be just as angry with yourself. Why is that?”
It’s their third session and so far everything they’ve touched has been superficial, things a first year psych student could diagnose. Melanie’s trying to push deeper but both Sam and Dean are good at pushing back, even if they don’t realize their doing it.
“Sam’s my responsibility. Always has been.”
“Do you feel that what ultimately happened is your fault?” It’s obvious he does. It’s so obvious that Dean blames himself, and not just for Sam’s recent actions but for so much more.
Dean refuses to answer, staring down at his hand picking at a loose thread on his jeans. He shrugs his shoulders as if saying he doesn’t know.
“Sam, do you have any thing you want to say about this?”
“I know that Dean feels I’m his responsibility. I’m his baby brother. He practically raised me but…I’m an adult. You gotta let me grow up man. You gotta let me off the lease.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause that works out so well Sam. I let you off the lease and the next thing we know Lucifer’s wearing you to the prom!” Dean’s up out of his seat, anger bursting out of him.
“I said I wouldn’t and I won’t!”
“Yeah, you said that about your powers Sam. You promised me and then Ruby shows up and it’s hello special powers!”
“You were dead Dean! That’s different than letting me grow up.” Sam’s out of his seat now, angry and pleading with his brother at the same time. Desperate for Dean to hear him, understand what he’s trying to say.
“Okay! Okay. Boys!” Melanie has to shout before they hear her, turning from each other to look at her. “Let’s settle down.”
They both look sullen, flopping back onto the couch, as far into their own corner as they can get.
“Good. Now, Dean, why do you think you’re so reluctant to let Sam grow up? Why do you feel he’s still your responsibility?”
“I’ve had one job my entire life and that’s looking out for Sam.”
“But as an adult, don’t you think Sam should take responsibility for his own actions?”
“Sure. But it’s still my job to look out for him.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m his big brother. It’s my job.”
“Who told you it was your job.”
“No one had to. It’s what big brothers do.” Melanie swallows a sigh; it feels like she’s banging her head against a wall when it came to Dean and his belief that Sam is his responsibility. Someone, somewhere had given this boy one hell of a complex when it came to responsibility and Sam. Melanie was betting on their father but it had been made perfectly clear: John Winchester was OFF LIMITS.
XXXX
Monday arrives and they still haven’t gotten as far as Melanie would like. They’ve tabled to many things, issues that they need to talk about, that she knows are at the root of the problems between them - their father, Sam’s habit of leaving, Dean’s abandonment issues, the extreme level of responsibility they feel for each other - all pushed back for “later.”
They get into spectacular shouting matches that have Melanie secretly popping prescription grade Motrin and sending them out for air so they can calm down.
And then today they both snap at the end of a long, intense day, losing all control and get into the worst fight Melanie’s ever seen. Neither holds back, throwing kicks and punches meant to do damage. They destroy her office, rolling over furniture and falling into the walls forcing her to take cover in the waiting room, watching as they beat the shit out of each other.
It’s bloody, sounds awful and looks worse and Melanie spends most of the fight watching through her fingers.
After they’re both bloody and in obvious pain, bruised knuckles and puffy faces from where a fist landed. They’ve each got blood dripping from split lips and various cuts on their face. Sam has a particularly nasty gash right above his left eye. Melanie wouldn’t be surprised if his eyes swells shut by tomorrow.
But once they both calm down, breathing normal and joints realigned, it’s as if all their anger is gone.
She watches as they check each other’s injuries, careful and gentle, loving.
Dean cradles Sam’s face in his hands, checking out the injuries his brother suffered at his own hand. He hisses when he gets a good look at the still bleeding gash above Sam’s eye.
“Jesus Sammy. Gonna have to stitch this up.” Dean’s voice is soft, quiet enough that Melanie has to strain to hear it, luring her back into her office.
She gets close enough that she can hear when Dean hiss as Sam gently pushes on Dean’s chest, checking out his ribs.
“Nothing’s broken but we’re gonna have to wrap those.” Sam’s hands fall to his brother’s hips, resting there. They’re close, so close, breathing each other’s air, foreheads almost touching and for one crazy moment Melanie thinks that they’re going to kiss.
Instead, she hears Sam’s voice, sad and plaintive break the spell. “Dean…”
“Nothing to be sorry for Sam.” Dean drags his hand down to Sam’s neck, squeezing. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
They turn towards the door, only acknowledging Melanie when they practically walk into her on their way out the door.
She looks at the mess that is her office - broken bookshelves, furniture tipped over, one of her side tables is actually broken, there’s dirt all over the carpet from her plant, papers everywhere. There isn’t a part of her office they didn’t destroy.
When she notices the huge Sam size hold in her wall she’s had enough. Dropping her notes onto her chair Melanie calls it a day.
XXXX
They come in the next day covered in bruises and small cuts, eyes ringed with deep purple and green, lips slit, Dean’s arm unconsciously protecting his ribs, Sam stepping gingerly on a twisted ankle. They’re both slow to sit, testing their bodies before relaxing as much as they can into the couch.
“And how do we feel today.” Melanie can’t help sounding exasperated. In that moment she feels like her mother.
Both Sam and Dean look sheepish, like little boys being scolded for sneaking cookies before dinner, their mumbled “sorry” tripping over each other.
In hindsight Melanie’s almost surprised something like this didn’t happen sooner. They’re both exhausted from lack of sleep and long days they spend here, the work they’re doing intense and emotional, it’s no wonder they finally snapped.
“Right.” She takes a deep breath before starting.
It’s a good session, both more relaxed, comfortable, as if they needed the fight to work out their anger in the most brutal way possible and now that it’s gone they can actually get somewhere.
Despite Dean’s obvious discomfort they actually have a conversation that involves their feelings.
Dean finally listens to Sam when he says Dean has to let him grow up, maybe even heard him. Sam listens when Dean admits how much it hurt being stuck in the middle between John and Sam. They both admit how much it hurt when Sam left for Stanford and both regretted not speaking for the years Sam was there. Both too stubborn to break the silence first.
Melanie’s proud of them.
After she makes them stay and help clean up her office, right the furniture, pick up the books, sweep up the dirt, pile up the papers…They offer to fix her wall but she waves them off, doesn’t want to take advantage. Dean walks out teasing Sam about his hair, Sam pouting like a little brother. It makes her smile.
XXXX
Sam comes in the next day looking surprisingly terrible, tired and depressed, the bruises on his face somehow more prominent. Dean looks pissed.
Melanie’s fear is that they fought again; that all the work they did yesterday was lost. But when they sit closer than normal on the couch she knows it’s something else.
“Bad night?”
“Michael and Lucifer are a real pain in the ass. Last night was tough.” Dean sounds thoroughly annoyed at the two angels.
“Sam, do you want to talk about it?”
His posture reminders her of that first session all those months ago, shoulders slumped, head down, hand limp in his lap and Melanie has to physically stop herself from getting up and giving him a hug.
“He won’t leave me alone. Keeps saying I’m going to say yes, that I’m his true vessel. That I was born for this and it’s my destiny. Just…can you imagine, in the entire world I’m the vessel of Satan. He thinks it’s funny that I keep saying no, keeps making me all these promises. But he can’t give me what I want, not really.”
They sit for a while, no one talking, Sam and Dean lost in thought abut their supposed destiny while Melanie just watches them, gives them time.
Finally she tells Sam what she’s wanted to tell him for a while now. “You’re a good man Sam. And you’re responsible for your own destiny. I know you’ll make the right choice. I trust you.”
Sam rewards her with a soft shy smile.
XXXX
On their last day Melanie leaves her notebook on her desk and instead keeps things as informal as she can.
Now that Dean’s accepted this is a safe place for him to open up and be honest he can’t seem to stop talking, taking full advantage of the opportunity to talk to Sam in a way he probably never has before.
“I know I have to let you grow up and I’m gonna do my best to back off. But Sam, you’re my baby brother; you’re the most important person in my life and I’m always going to feel responsible for you.”
Sam looks like he might cry when he looks at Dean and swears the same. “And you’re my big brother. I’m always going to have your back, no matter what happens, I’m always going to try and save you. We’re all we’ve got Dean and I’m not losing you.”
“Jesus can we stop with the chick flick moments now? Please.” Melanie can’t help laughing at Dean, blushing and happy, trying to cover it up with masculine bravado.
It’s a good issue to settle on their last day, brings everything full circle. Not that there isn’t more work for them to do, they could be in therapy for the rest of their lives and probably never work everything out. But Melanie feels they’ve reached a good place and she says good-bye with a clear conscious.
She walks them to the door at the end of the day and doest stop herself from giving each of them a hug. Someone Sam accepts easily, engulfing her in his big frame. Dean isn’t nearly so giving but she sees the shy smile on his face, genuine and happy.
Before she can let them drive off in that beautiful car she has one favor to request. “If it’s not too much to ask, when this is over, let me know you’re okay?”
“Promise.” Sam squeezes her shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pockets, shoulder bumping Dean’s as they walk out to their car.
Melanie watches till the taillights disappear into the night before locking up for the night and heading home.
Chapter 5