Today was Dean's first therapy session with the Doctor and he was quite scared to be honest. He didn't know what he had to do or say and what the Doctor would ask him. The questions scared him the most, what if they were too personal? It had been so hard to open up to Cas, how hard would it be to open up to a stranger?
This practically lead to Dean being the most nervous he had been in a long time. He hardly had gotten anything down at breakfast, and of course he had noticed the worried stares of one of the nurses who probably already told the Doctor. That would only make it more awkward than necessary, more awkward than it already would be.
But how should he help himself? He just had to get through with it, get well enough so the Doctor would allow him to go back home. He just had to grit his teeth and make everyone believe he was better and then he would be able to go home and go on a date with Cas – probably this was his biggest reasons to actually try and get better.
*~*
Taking a deep breath, Dean knocked on the Doctor's office door and then waited until he got an answer and entered the room. It's furniture was wooden, some light tone Dean couldn't name, and there were a few photographs on the walls, next to some certificates. On most pictures were the Doctor and a gorgeous blonde woman, probably his girlfriend or wife but since Dean hadn't seen any ring on the Doctor's hand, he guessed it was his girlfriend.
The Doctor, who was sitting at the other side of the big desk, smiled at him and nodded at the other chair, signalling him that he had to sit down there. Dean sighed quietly and sat down, but looked anywhere than to the Doctor.
"Well, Dean, you don't have to be nervous. You don't have to share anything with me you don't want to share and I definitely won't make you tell me anything. It would help if you shared everything with me, yes, but I don't quite like that way of working with people, especially when they are so young like you are. You still will have to tell me some things, we can't change that in order for you getting better but I will give you the time you need to open up to me." The Doctor comforted his young patient, keeping his voice soft and gentle, knowing that anything else would just scare the adolescent.
After all those years of studying and then working he had some practice with young people, probably why he had specialised on them. He found it quite interesting how they thought, how they acted when set a task. He had noticed that most of them were just scared of many things but that still didn't stop them from being amazing at whatever they wanted. He believed that every single one of them was amazing.
Funnily they often didn't realize that on their own. Most of the time they were used to being scolded, shunned or told to be quiet. Rarely they were treated like they deserved – as the intelligent future for everyone, the amazing, diverse generation. John himself couldn't do anything against that, most people wouldn't stop that anyways but he could teach the adolescents that their opinion mattered, that they and everything they'd do was important, no matter what it was.
But even with this policy of treating teenagers he sometimes got cases that even were too much for him – Dean could be one of those. As far as the Doctor knew, Dean had had one of the toughest childhoods possible with his mother dying when he was just four, constantly moving and having nothing to keep him steady, and an abusive father. Of course, Dean wasn't the only teen to whom this had been happening to but Dean was the first one the Doctor had to work with. He obviously hadn't worked out any techniques to handle this yet but he was pretty confident that he soon would work out one, together with Dean.
Dean though was quite surprised at those words. He had thought he would have to tell everything, that the Doctor would make him spill out all he was thinking about. He obviously wouldn't complain about this method though, he was glad about it. Still he couldn't quite understand what they should be talking about now, with him not having to share anything he didn't like to share. What was the use of therapy when he didn't talk about himself?
"You're wondering what we should talk about, huh? Well, anything you want. Shows, music, cars, sports, even though you probably better go to one of the sports people here because I hardly know anything about sports. I have to be honest now though. Dean, you're an interesting case, I never had any patient with the same backstory as you have. I don't really have any clue how I should help you feel better but I want to work with you, work out something, so I can treat future cases better. Would you want to do that?"
Dean was taken aback by those words and almost felt.. uncomfortable. Of course, he wanted other people with a similar fate to his to be helped but helping the Doctor find a way? What if he messed it up? Lots of people would have to suffer then because of him and he didn't want to have that responsibility. But then again, wouldn't it be an honour to have worked out the therapy? He would help so many people, would make them able to be happy again. In his opinion that was the option that was better, he should stop being such a coward anyways.
"I guess it would be an honour," he answered quietly, looking on the desk. Doing so he couldn't see the proud smile of the Doctor, couldn't see him scribbling something down. "Thank you, Dean. Another topic, have you thought about doing some sport while you are here?" The Doctor asked, hoping that Dean had thought of it.
Which he did. He had thought about it quite some time in the evening and most of the night and he had gotten a result out of it but he wouldn't do it. He wanted to swim but he never really learned it, he could just swim well enough to be able not to drown. He would just make a fool out of himself and there was another problem – his scars.
He wouldn't like anyone seeing them, he hated it when he saw them himself. He wished they could just disappear but he knew this wish would never be fulfilled. He had to live with them now. He thought of getting some tattoos, just to have something over the scars to make them less noticeable. He didn't quite know what he wanted yet but he knew that someday there would be something to cover his scars, his past.
"Dean?" The Doctor asked softly, having noticed that the young man had been lost in his own head. He couldn't say what the teen was thinking of but he could quite guess that it wasn't too pleasant. Another thing he had to note down – often lost in thought; thoughts of the past?
Dean shook his head slightly, as if to shake away the thoughts, and looked at the Doctor again, shrugging slightly. "I don't really know.. I mean, I'm not really built for football and I don't quite like basketball, but I'd enjoy swimming if I was better at it.. But I guess the gym will have to do," he mumbled, trying to hide his frustration with himself.
Doctor Smith tilted his head, smiling gently at the boy in front of him. "Why won't you try swimming? Mr Jackson can teach you how to swim, he'd love to," he said softly. "And.. if you're scared that he would say something about your body, believe me.. He isn't one to judge. But, let's make a deal: You will go to the swimming pool and try it out once and therefore you won't have to participate in any of the other stuff, especially not the crafts stuff. Deal?"
That was a great deal, especially in Dean's opinion. He wouldn't have to be social if he just went swimming once and even if he didn't quite like it, he wouldn't have to participate in anything really.
"Deal."
*~*
He was feeling uncomfortable to no end when he was standing at one end of the swimming pool. The water was clear and it didn't seem to be too deep, but the best thing? Nobody seemed to be here. According to the Doctor this Mr Jackson had to be around somewhere, he rarely left this area.
"Can I help you?" A scruff voice interrupted his thoughts and he turned around to see a quite tall man with black hair in swimming trunks. As the man came closer Dean noticed that he had the most green eyes he had ever seen, but they were a darker shade than his own. All in all, the man looked quite fit and the trident tattoo on his forearm definitely didn't do anything else than to make that man look hotter, but still he wasn't anything compared to Cas.
"Uh.. Yes, actually. I'm searching for Mr Jackson?" Dean said timidly, quite intimidated by that man. The man just laughed and then stood in front of Dean, smiling brightly at him. "Well, you just found him! But please call me Percy, I feel old otherwise," he grinned and patted his shoulder.
Dean tried his best not to flinch away but he still did. Mr Jackson – or Percy? - frowned slightly but instantly put on a smile again. "And who are you, young man?" Dean bit his lip and looked down to the floor, feeling uncomfortable under those green eyes. "Dean, Mr," he said quietly.
Percy frowned slightly and looked him up and down, noticing the way the boy tried to make himself seem smaller. He sighed silently, knowing that this often was one of the consequences of prior abuse and that Dean had flinched away earlier only added to his suspicion.
And he hated, no despised, parents who abused their children. If you don't like them, don't get any, as simple as this. Of course, there were accidental pregnancies, but you shouldn't have sex if you weren't aware of the consequences. And even then you shouldn't ruin someone's life.
Unconsciously his hand wandered to his shoulder to where one of the biggest scars he had was and he sighed quietly, but then he concentrated on Dean again. He swore to himself in this second that he would help that boy, that he would show him that there were still good things in the world even when it didn't seem like it.
Dean though didn't feel too comfortable under the stare of those green eyes, he felt intimidated. He decided that this definitely was the first and last time he would set a foot close to the swimming pools, that Percy guy was just too.. weird? He couldn't quite name it but he knew they wouldn't get along well and him not coming here any more would be the best thing for everybody.
"Well, do you want to show me how well you can swim? Then we can decide together whether I'll train you or you are able to swim well enough so I can do paperwork or something," Percy said, smiling brightly at Dean who just nodded slightly and rubbed his neck awkwardly. "Can I have some trunks to change into? And where can I change?" he asked quietly, not quite daring to speak louder – Mr Jackson could get angry after all.
The man just laughed though and nodded. "Yeah, of course, over there," he said and pointed to one end of the building. "There is a box with trunks, all are new and never used, promised. I'll wait here until you're finished with changing," he added and turned away, thinking about what he should do in the main time. He could go swimming again... Yes, that would do.
Dean on the other hand walked over to the room where Mr Jackson had pointed him to go and really, there was a box with some swim trunks. He looked through it and then settled on a black pair with green stripes. He undressed himself quickly and put on the trunks but didn't go back to the pools quite then.
He looked on his forearms, sighing quietly and stroking over the lengthways scars, the ones from his attempt. He wished he could hide them but he definitely couldn't – and after all, they now were a part of him, no matter what he wanted them to be. He now had to accept them for himself but what if that Percy guy decided to ask him about them? He would have no answer but would he really need one? They were quite obvious and it was obvious why they were where they were. If he really was asked, what should he answer?
Dean sighed quietly and decided that it would be the best if he just went outside and faced his fear, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe Percy wouldn't even notice the scars.
Deep down Dean knew that he was just trying to fool himself, that it would be horrifying and that Percy would notice the scars, at least those on his forearms. He just had to hope that Percy wouldn't say anything about them and would just let it slip.
With one last deep breath Dean walked back to the pool, looking around as he didn't see Percy instantly. As his gaze fell onto the water his jaw dropped – the black-haired male was swimming pretty fast and it looked so effortless, so calming. It looked like Percy was just in his element.
As the man noticed that Dean was back he climbed out of the pool and walked over to the teen, grinning widely at him. "Sorry, I just had to take a swim right now. But now you are free to take a swim, I'll watch."
Dean nodded slightly and looked at the man one last time when he noticed light silvery lines all over Percy's chest and arms.
Had Percy selfharmed too?
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A/N: Hey guys, Martina here :D
Thanks to all of you because we have reached 1k reads! That's more than I ever expected this work to get tbh :)
Well, thank you, thank you, thank you <3 You are amazing!
Stay awesome until next time!
PS: I still don't really have wifi but I hope I can update soon!