Nightshift 44: Doctor's Office 3 [Dr. Makiko Kisugi]

[boyking]

[from here]

Placing his flashlight on the ground, Sam slid the needle into the lock, feeling it click open a few moments later. He straightened up and stepped inside.

The office was nondescript; neat and organized and straight. Almost eerily so. But aside from that, there was nothing out of the ordinary. Which...he supposed he hadn't exactly expected. It raised the question of just who these doctors were. Did they know what was going on? Creations of this place? Illusions didn't stop at making objects out of thin air.

Well, maybe he'd find out soon. It wasn't that to he'd ever look forward to talking around his way through a therapy session, but a part of him couldn't help feeling curious enough about it to want to check this out.

But he was here for the files. Dean's file, specifically. With any luck, that they were in Dean's doctor's office, that meant that Sam's file wouldn't be lying around here readily accessible as well. Maybe. Provided they didn't have the same therapist somehow. Right now, he just didn't want to go there, even if he knew he'd be able to explain it away if it came down to it.

Sam started for the desk, assuming that Dean would go look on the other side of the room.

Comments

[kindalikedit]

Dean entered the doctor's office after his brother, his flashlight making a sweep of the room. It was just as clean and spotless as before, like humans hadn't ever lived here, and Dean would've knocked the pencil case on the floor in principle if they weren't trying to keep it on the down low. Hell, even without the bitch doctor here, he swore it felt like it'd dropped a degree or too. Dean paused by the door, looking around and trying not to out himself then and there on the spot.

"Hey, why don't we split up?" Dean said casually. "I'll do one, you take the one across the hall or something; we could cover more ground that way."

He figured he'd have enough time to dig up any notes or anything Doctor Kisugi might've kept on him before Sam got back, and it'd be a lot easier to look when he didn't have Sam breathing down his neck. Dean wasn't the type to fold down at the slightest hint of pressure, but still, if he could steer Sam away from anything he didn't want him to see, at least not until tomorrow, when he was good and ready to hear it from his own mouth, then he was gonna at least try.

[boyking]

Sam had been about to pull open the drawer when Dean spoke. He glanced up with a frown.

Well, that was kind of out of nowhere. Not that they didn't split up often because they did, but, well. What was the point of checking some random office next door? Granted, it was one way to search for Sam's file, as well, since he had no idea which doctor he'd been assigned to (had he been assigned to a doctor?), but—

Yeah, all right fine. The truth was, he wasn't interested in his own file as much. He wanted to see Dean's. He needed to see Dean's, needed to see how much time his brother had. How much time Sam had to save him.

Like it'll make a difference, his mind whispered, but he shook it off.

Still, Dean wasn't usually so quick to get him out of sight, not when Sam had died on him twice within a week. Evidently, there was something more important going on here and he could guess as much what it might be. Always came back to that one thing, didn't it?

"We don't even know if they've got me placed with a doctor yet," he replied. "Might as well make sure we've got our hands on yours at least before we both black out unexpectedly again."

The nights did have a tendency to do that. It was vaguely flimsy, but it wasn't as if Dean had done a whole lot better.

He wondered, too, if maybe Dean just wanted some space between them. That might be it, as well. He couldn't begrudge his brother for that one.

[kindalikedit]

And of course Sam had to fight him on this - he wouldn't be Sam if he didn't dig in his feet like some stubborn bastard. Dean managed to keep his cool. "Dude, I don't need a babysitter to search through files. It's not like I need some fancy college education to know my ABC's."

Even if he hadn't been nervous about the contents of his files, the point still stood that he'd done the whole research gig without Sam before and he could clear a room in a few hours - and they did at least have a few hours, he figured from his general estimate, enough to determine if the files were here or not. Just 'cause he liked to make Sam do all the grunt work didn't mean he couldn't roll up his sleeves and do it himself. He had survived on the job and checking obits and stuff before he'd come for Sammy at Stanford, after all. Didn't mean he wanted to anymore, especially getting used to his brother watching his back, but right now he did need to do this himself and if it meant pointing out that Sam was babying him for no damn good reason, then he was gonna damn well pull that card.

Dean stepped away from the door, keeping it casual but not liking how close Sam stood to the bitch doctor's desk. What if she had them in a drawer, right there in front of his brother?

[boyking]

Sam made a half-irritated noise, but didn't argue. Since he...really couldn't. Not without coming off like something was up. Which it was, but Dean didn't need to know that and pointing out that Dean could easily be the one to go next door while Sam searched in here would yield equally suspicious feelings. Even though Dean was the one standing closest to the entrance. There was technically no need for Sam to walk all the way around and out.

But he knew that was pushing it a bit too far. He couldn't afford to tip his brother off, no matter how small a hint it might seem initially.

The drawer was halfway open, his hand resting on the edge of it. He shut it again.

"Just tell me if you find something," he said, slipping past Dean and back into the hallway.

[returning here]