Catch Me When I Fall

Psychiatrist

Two days later, the doctor and another man came into the room to see Dean, who was laying in the bed, staring over at the wall. "How are you feeling?"

Dean looked at them, and shrugged. "Fine. Can I go home yet?"

"I asked Sam and Bobby to go to the cafeteria," said Dr Morgan, walking closer to the bed. "This is my brother. He's a psychiatrist. I wanted him to come and talk to you."

Dean narrowed his eyes and glared at the two men. "Why? I don't need a fricking psychiatrist. I'm fine," he told them, before going back to staring blankly at the wall.

"You're not fine, Dean. Sam told me you wanted to die, and that's why you stopped eating. Your father dying a few months ago is obviously the thing which drove you to depression."

"I'm... I'm not depressed. And my dad dying is none of your damn business. Now would you leave me the hell alone?"

The psychiatrist didn't seem to be affected by the young man glaring at him, and sat in the chair by the bed. "My name is Dr Morgan. Kind of like my brother," he said with a smile, opening his notebook. "But to avoid confusion, you can call me Ryan. I don't usually do this, but Nick asked me to come and talk to you. Sam thinks it might help."

"Look, I don't care what your name is. I just want to get the hell out of here. My issues are none of your business."

"You are not fine, Dean. You stopped eating properly due to depression, but because you had control of your life it developed into an eating disorder. But instead of wanting to lose weight, you were doing this because you want to die. Does this sound familiar?"

Dean looked down at his hands. "How many times do I have to tell you or my brother, I DO NOT have an eating disorder. I'm not a teenage girl. I'm FINE! I'm not depressed."

"It's not weak to need some help. I'll help you if you just ask."

Dean took a deep breath, and tried to keep control of his temper. "Look Dr Moron, would you get out, and leave me alone? I'm done talking," he said, laying down on his side, facing away from the two men.

"Let's talk to his brother and uncle." Ryan stood from the chair, and the two left the younger man alone.

Sam and Bobby were walking to Dean's room, when they saw the two Dr Morgans leave. "How is he?"

"Well, aside from denying there was anything wrong and calling me Dr Moron, he wouldn't talk."

Bobby chuckled. "Sorry. It's so like Dean to insult people. It's his... thing. Ya know? Using humour to avoid talking about his problems."

Ryan jotted something down on the pad he was holding. "With what you've told me, and seeing his behaviour for myself, I can see he's depressed. When he gets out of here, go to the pharmacy and get him these." He handed Sam a piece of paper. "They're anti-depressants. Not every pharmacy has them, but they do downstairs. But with him wanting to kill himself, I'd suggest you keep hold of these yourself."

"Thanks. I'm going to see him." Sam walked back into Dean's room, with Bobby following behind. "Hey, Dean. How are you doing?" he asked, sitting on the edge of Dean's bed, and gently touching his arm.

Dean gasped and jumped in surprise at the unexpected touch, but he relaxed when he saw it was Sam. "Why? Why did you get a fricking psychiatrist to talk to me?" he asked, sitting up, and wiping his face. "I don't need one."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, I want to help you," Sam told him, gently putting his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I asked the nurse to bring you some food up. Will you try to eat some for me?"