Crumble: A Destiel AU

[15]

XXX [Dean] XXX

"We were driving in Oklahoma; it was tornado season, so there was a bunch of storm clouds and a lot of wind and rain. Sam and dad were arguing again, like always. Sam didn't grow up with dad like I did. I was around him for four years before he became someone else. Back when mom was alive, he was such a happy person; and then once she died, he became the opposite. He became an alcoholic, he gambled any chance he got, and he treated us like shit. Sam would always ask questions, and dad hated them. Sammy would wait until the car was silent, and then suddenly just ask "What happened to mom?" or "Why don't we have a house?" or "Why won't you quit drinking?" If there was one thing I knew about that man, it was not to ask questions and don't press him. My father hated talking about the past, he refused to talk about my mom from the day she died until the day we put him in the ground too. But that night, I should've done something. They were yelling at each other and we had just gotten into town. Sam was tired of not knowing what happened when he was a baby, and he wouldn't leave it alone. Dad snapped, slammed on the breaks in the middle of an intersection and turned around in his seat and punched Sam right in the face. A semi hit us on the right side, Sam died instantly. I had three broken bones and a concussion; dad had to have his right leg amputated and three weeks later, he just drank himself stupid and ended it all. Sam wasn't even eight years old yet, and my father was shit. He was always abusing Sammy, but never physically. Always telling him he wasn't normal, or that he would never make anything of himself. He called him a disappointment, a disgrace, he constantly told Sam he hated his guts and that he wish Sam never been born. Sam took all of it, he never spoke up and never said anything to dad about it. He only ever asked where our mom was."

I had been in tears, it was well after three am and I was still crying. Cas made me eat dinner that he ordered out, and we talked about everything. He listened to me, for once in my life; someone was listening to me and actually cared about what I had to say. I kept crying until I couldn't anymore, it physically hurt to be this sad, and I didn't even know why I was upset at all. "You need to see a psychologist, Dean. I mean one who can help you. I can't exactly diagnose you or help you considering I'm not actually a doctor yet and I only have my degree for pre-med. I want you to come talk to my professor, Dr. Langford. He's the best psychology professor on the coast, and he would be able to talk to you and help you. He's not a shrink, but he's still a doctor of psychology, and he could refer you to someone who can give you the help you need." His thumb rubbed my hand. I didn't want to, but if Cas said I needed to, then I would. Honestly, I didn't trust my judgement in my current state.

XXX [Castiel] XXX

"Thank you for seeing us, Doctor Langford. This is my boyfriend, Dean." Dr. Langford had said to bring Dean after all of my classes were over for the day once I had pulled him aside before class this morning. "My pleasure, nice to meet you, Dean." Dean seemed a little off, but smiled as he shook the professor's hand. "So, Castiel tells me you had a bit of a meltdown yesterday. He was very worried when he asked me if I would talk to you." He sounded concerned for Dean, even after only meeting him literally four seconds ago. "Yeah, I'm not really sure what happened. One minute, I was watching TV and laughing, and the next I was staring out the window. It just hit me, and there wasn't really a reason for it." His voice was quiet, like he was nervous about talking about it. "Yes, some things change all of the sudden, not really needing a cause. So, let's talk about your brother."

"Dean, that's quite the event." Dr. Langford remarked. Dean had told him a slightly more polite version of what he told me, the whole time squeezing my hand. He only nodded in response. "I'm no professional doctor, but from the things that I learned from my degree; I'd say you have class A parental and childhood trauma, Class B abandonment issues, and a level six on the depression scale. I can't completely diagnose you, but I'll email my colleges at the psychology center downtown, and I'll get them to contact you for an appointment." He shook our hands one last time before we left, a heavy sigh escaping Dean's lips.

It wasn't two days after that the clinic called, wanting Dean to come down for a visit. The short of it, Dr. Langford emailed the head psychologist, Dr. Vex, what Dean had told him and what he thought of his diagnosis. Dr. Vex agreed with him, and told Dean she wanted him back in a week for a session. "Don't worry Dean, a six isn't enough for medication. They just want to help you resolve the internal conflict you have with yourself with your father and the events that happened. It's all going to be fine, I promise." This was a completely different side of Dean, I've known him for almost five years, and this venerable, wounded side of him is just surfacing. I guess that just goes to show that not everything about us is physical. We all have stories, and some of it we don't like to talk about. All of these things like depression, anxiety, abandonment issues, childhood trauma, and so much more; it's not always shown. It can be something that nobody else knows about. You never know the internal battle they're going through, and sometimes you don't know they're losing.