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(10.1) ─ Asylum

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫:
‧⁺˚*‧☾ 𝐣𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬☽‧*˚⁺‧

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Yet another motel room the three were calling home. Dean was going through their Dad's journal, Carmen was reading a book while drinking an iced coffee, and Sam was on the phone with someone named Caleb. "No, Dad was in California last we heard from him. We just thought...He comes to you for 'munitions...Maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks. Just, call us if you hear anything. Thanks." Dean glanced over at him watching as he hung up the phone, "Caleb hasn't heard from him?" He asked.

"Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim."

"Any leads in his journal?" She asked looking over at her brother, who shook his head. "No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out..." He said before chuckling lightly, "I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

"Understatement of the year." She remarked.

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person's." Sam suggested, clearly starting to his the extremely worried stage. "We've talked about this. Dad's be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." Dean explained. "He'll skin us alive if we do it," She added before taking a sip from her drink.

"I don't care anymore!"

Before Dean could reply his phone chimed, he shut the journal, got up and went to his bag. All the while Sam continued, "After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean..He should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and..Nothing."

"I know," He agreed, still finishing for his phone, "Where the hell is my phone?"

"You know, he could be dead for all we know." The two looked at him, like he was crazy, 'Don't say that! He's not dead! He's-he's..." He trailed off not really knowing what to say, so he just kept looking for his phone. "He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?" Sam asked as the oldest finally found his phone and flipped it open. "Huh, I don't believe it," He muttered, causing both of his siblings to frown lightly, "Huh?" She asked walking over and read the message over his shoulder;

From: Unavailable

Subject:

Meg: 42, -89

9:52

"What is it?"

"It's, uh...It's a text message. It's coordinates. " He informed the two, sitting down on the opposite bed. Stealing Sam's laptop from the nightstand and started typing away on it.

"You think that was Dad?" She asked only able to just watch him.

"He's given us coordinates before," He reminded.

"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean," Sam pointed out.

He looked up at the two, "Guys, it's good news, it means he's okay, or alive at least." He than looked back down at the screen.

"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?" Sam asked. "Unknown," She replied, picking up the cup from the nightstand. "Well, where do the coordinates point?" He asked, turning back to Dean annoyed by the fact there wasn't any clear answers. "That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois." The two exchanged confused looks before looking back at their brother. "How is that Interesting?" She asked for the two. "I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this." He answered as the two sat on either side of him. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife. Then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?" Sam asked as Dean reopened their dad's journal, "Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see..." He trailed off before flipping through the pages. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths-till last week at least. I think this is where he wants to go." Sam snorted, getting up and placing his palms on the top of his head, turning back to the two, "This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job."

"Who knows, maybe he's there? Maybe we'll meet up with him?" She suggested as Dean nodded his head agreeing with her.

"Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing." Sam suggested.

"Who cares," Dean stated shutting both the journal and laptop shut. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!" He said standing up. "This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?" He questioned, looking between the two. "Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'."

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Daniel Gunderson, Walter Kelly's partner, was drinking at a bar. The three climbed out of the Impala, "Okay," Sam started, "Carmen you'll stay here, Dean and I will go ask the questions."

"Hold up," She said, making the two brothers stop, "I might have a better idea." She insisted with a smirk.

Ten or so minutes had past before Dean stormed out, clearly pissed. "What's up with your brother?" He asked huffing, leaning next to Carmen against the car. "What'd he do this time?" she asked, crossing her arms. "Well, your plan was that Sam will just back up the guy and instead he pushed me away, hard." She shrugged, "I don't know." He scoffed, and she lightly nudged his arm, smiling widely at him.

Another few minutes passed before Sam walked out. "Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy." Dean said.

"I had to sell it, didn't I?" Sam suggested, throwing his arms up and then walked to the passenger's door.

"It's method acting."

"Huh?" Dean questioned making her roll her eyes.

"Never mind." Sam dismissed.

"What'd you find out?" She asked, quickly changing the subject. "So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him." He explained to the two. "What about at home?" Dean asked. "He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids."

"Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him." Dean joked.

"Right," Sam agreed. "What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" She asked. "A lot," Sam replied.

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The three jumped the tall and very old chain linked fence at the asylum. Walking up the creepy stairs and then went inside. The two kept Carmen between them, "So, apparently the cops chased the kids here..." Sam trailed off, looking around trying to find a direction, "Into the south wing." He pointed to a sign over a door.

"South wing, huh?"

"Wait a sec," Carmen said pulling the journal out, flipping through it. "1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place." She looked up towards her brothers, "So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it." Sam said. "But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean asked.

"Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years," He informed walking towards the door that had a broken chain.

"Yeah, to keep people out." Dean said as if he was pointing out the obvious.

"Or to keep something in." She added.

The three looked at each other, unsure on what they were about to get themselves into. Sam slowly pushed the door open, going through it and down the hall. "Let us know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean said teasing Sam, which made Carmen elbow him, "Dude, enough." He told him making the oldest chuckle, "I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams." Sam clearfield, clearly annoyed with his brother.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell." Dean said, glancing down at the device in his hand, while the other held his flashlight. "You getting any reading on that thing or not?" She asked, changing the topic after noticing her brother's expression. "Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home." Dean replied.

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day." Sam added.

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night,"

"Yeah,"

"Hey Sam...who do you think is the hotter psychic, Patricia Arquette, or you?" Dean asked. "Jenniefer Love Hewitt." She said, deadpan causing Dean to laugh while Sam shoved her shoulder lightly.

They walked into a room, looking around at the dark dated room in silence. But Dean's whistle quickly broke it, "Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to this people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." He made crazy eyes and grinned at the two, who just ignored him. "So what? Ghosts or ghosts possessing people?" She asked. "Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl haunting," Sam suggested. "Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in the Shining," Dean said with a grin.

"Guys," Sam stated, making the two quickly look over at him. "When are we going to talk about it?" He asked. "Talk about what?" She asked, her brows frowned in confusion. "About the fact Dad's not here." He said as if he was pointing out the obvious. "Oh. I see. How 'bout...Never," Dean remarked sarcastically.

"I'm being serious, man. He sent us here–"

"So am I, Sam." Dean cut him off. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants."

"See. There's that attitude? Right there? THat is why Carmen and I always get the extra cookies."

"Dean, Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him." Sam insisted. "We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

"I understand that, but he's given us an order." Dean said, taking Carmen's advice on how he should word his thoughts. "So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?" Sam questioned. "Of course we do." He replied quickly.

Carmen was walking around the large room while the two were arguing behind her. Poking at certain things with her large light. "Sanford Ellicott," She read a lout a sign she had picked up. "You know what we gotta do." Dean said coming up besides her, "We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here."