Paging Dr. Quinnzelle, Dr. Harleen Quinnzelle
With a week’s to kill after a job Dean was starting to tired of his brother. He felt there was something wrong, something seriously wrong with Sam; which he wasn’t wrong. Sam Winchester’s spirit: his empathy, his conscience was absent from his body, he was without a soul.
This essential piece of knowledge being hidden Dean gave the ultimatum of getting help or being stranded in town. Sam would be indifferent normally, he’d steal a car and be on his way but the funny thing about this town is that it’s a dump. An absolutely dump where their aren’t cars to steal because they are either: 1) already being taken for a joyride or 2) housing a family of at very least 3 homeless people living in it. Gotham City at its finest…
Sam was left without any real options.
The very next day not only did Dean miraculously find a psychiatrist, but got an appointment as well. The dreary room only seem to have housed a Ghost buster-like secretary with Sam and Dean being the only guests, it wasn’t long before Sam was to enter the smaller room acrossed the exit to get this over with.
As soon as he heard his name from what sounded like a Jersey girl, legs. Then a little ways up a shapely body clothed in a doctor’s coat that clung to the body and a name tag that seemed to be the only thing in the room that lustered gleaming the name “Quinzelle”.
Sam tapped his brother, who was actually reading a magazine article from what it seemed to be a Cosmopolitan. Sam devilishly grinned at Dean and saluted, “Well Dean, I’ll see you at 5.”