therapy | destiel

Chapter One

Sam's POV

"This is a dumb idea," Dean grumbles, slamming the door to his Impala shut. It makes me wince. Dean is never rough with his Baby.

"Just follow my lead," I say, praying to Chuck that Dean's temper doesn't fuck up the entire investigation.

He snorts at this, shoving his hands into his pockets as we climb the steps, Jack trailing behind. He bites off some of his signature sarcasm. "Yeah, doctor's gonna eat our liver with some fava beans and a bottle of Chianti."

A man passes us on our way up the path, smiling at us. "Hello!" he says brightly, but Dean just shoulders past him. It's awkward. I give the man an apologetic smile and continue into the house.

There's no one in the foyer. I take a step forward, ahead of Dean, and call out, "Hello?"

"Can I help you?"

I jump. The receptionist seemingly appeared from nowhere. Thankfully, I didn't pull my gun. Talk about blowing an investigation. I clear my throat. "Yeah, we're, uh... hoping to see the doctor."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the man says, sounding genuinely disappointed. "You caught us right at the end of our day. Maybe tomorrow?" he asks, moving toward his computer in preparation to book us an appointment.

I'm about to say yes, lovely, thank you, how about two o'clock?, but Dean has other plans. And when he's in a pissy mood, Dean follows his own schedule.

"No, today's good," he says, nonchalant but threatening. "Like right now."

And now I have to clean up his mess. The poor receptionist looks terrified, and rightfully so.

"He—Uh, we just need a moment of her time," I will offer as explanation, making my voice as soft and gentle as possible to make up for Dean's roughness.

I think for a moment that he won't let us in, but at that moment, the doctor arrives.

"You've lost someone recently?" she asks. Subtle.

Dean, of course, jumps straight to denial. Jack is a little more honest. With all of his three-day-old innocence, he says, "My mother."

Suddenly, an evil spirit grips me, and I amend the nephilim's statement. "Uh, his mother, Dean's fiancé. We've been having a difficult time."

She rushes to shake our hands, and Dean glares daggers at me, practically turning the air to poison. "Mia Vallens."

"Hi. Dean," my brother says curtly, and a shadow flickers across her face. No doubt she senses his hostility.

I decide to take control of the situation. "That's Jack, and I'm Sam, Dean's little brother."

"I see. Please, this way."

She knows something's up, I can feel it.

"Sure," I say, following her into her office. There's no possible way this can go wrong. Absolutely none at all.

Sarcasm, of course. This is going to be a fucking disaster.