In the couple of weeks since the death of John Winchester, things between Sam and Dean were becoming more and more strained as they each tried to deal with their grief. Despite that, when a message is left on John's phone, the two hunters respond; trying to carry on, saving people, hunting things, the family business...
Disclaimer: Didn't get them for Christmas, didn't get them for Easter, didn't get them for my birthday, so they're still Mr Kripke's...Not mine :(
LOSS AND LOCKWOOD
CHAPTER ONE
Prologue
o-o-o
1979
Fresh from their first six weeks of tutoring, the newest intake of students setting out on the path to becoming mental health nurses were let loose, in pairs, onto the wards within the vast complex of the red brick Victorian asylum. The sprawling community sat within it's own large, mature grounds and was home to people who, for the main part, had lived there most of their lives. Some who were now in their sixties and seventies had been committed when they were little more than children.
People like "Topsy", who's thick old file showed she was sent there by her loving parents for "defiance". Or Mabel, diagnosed back in the day, when "Idiot" was a medical term. Kenneth, who was unfortunate enough to have suffered from childhood epilepsy. Martin, criminally insane, (because one day he turned on the father who frequently beat him mercilessly, and hit him back). Daisy, deemed to have "frequent blinking". Michael, vagrancy. And, whilst many inhabitants may not have actually had a mental illness upon admission, thanks to years of institutional living, they generally had one by now.
The majority of the wards were designated "Long Stay", and every ward manager patrolled their own kingdom, huge bunches of keys on lengths of chain hanging from their belts. As none of the wards were locked wards, and the huge wrought iron main entrance gates stayed permanently open, most of the keys these men (and the three or four female ward managers) carried no longer had any function, other than to signal their position and reinforce their power over the patients. Most wards being without uniforms to separate staff from patient, those who were employed to work there clung onto their keys as a method of identifying themselves as the "sane" amongst the "insane". In fact, whilst the staff who weren't working on the designated "elderly" wards were supposed to wear "mufti", virtually all the long standing male staff continued to wear their old "asylum suit" of charcoal grey jacket and trousers, another way of stating "I only work here."
The only therapy offered was drugs, and rarely did you find a patient who wasn't prescribed something or other, although sometimes it had been forgotten why. Of the eight hundred or so patients themselves, whilst all of them were free to leave the hospital grounds and go into the local town, or anywhere else for that matter, only a handful made use of their freedom to come and go. The rest chose to remain within the confines of the grounds. After all, most of their needs could be met there.
For those who wanted some structure to their day and to have a reason to get out of bed in the open dormitories, they could get employment of a sort at the on site light labour "factory" where they would be paid four or five dollars a week to fit together the component parts of wooden toys. They could spend their earning at the hospital's clothing boutique, or at the general store where they could buy such things as sweets and snacks, newspapers, tobacco products, toiletries and non alcoholic drinks. There was even a small "bank" where patients could open accounts and save their earnings if they so wished. For entertainment there was a patient's club on site with a bar. Here the patients could purchase a limited amount of beer, although there were no spirits allowed. The club was managed by staff members who ensured that no individual was allowed to buy enough alcohol to cause any trouble, or to interfere with their medication. The club had a pool table and over looked the hospital sports field. Friday and Saturday nights were Disco Night, a member of staff acting as DJ.
If any of the male patients were particularly well thought of, they might be invited to join the ground crew. The ground crew were commonly referred to as "Ginger's Boy's" (irrespective of their age), and they were overseen by Ginger himself, a short, stocky, red haired man with a ruddy complexion and an over large head. No one actually knew his age, but he should probably have retired years before. He was a man who cared a great deal about the well-being of his "boys". Ginger and his crew were responsible for the maintenance of the grounds, and they went out every day, whatever the weather conditions, to tend to the numerous flower beds, make sure that the grass was kept neat, prune the shrubs, sweep up dead leaves from the numerous mature trees, re-paint fences and wooden benches, sweep the paths and, when necessary, grit the narrow road which wound it's way through the grounds. When they were together, there was a sense of camaraderie between the patients who formed the ground crew. When they returned to their wards however, even if those who might reside on the same ward, never communicated or mixed in any way.
All the patients except those on the elderly wards, or those who might be ill in bed with some physical health issue, attended a vast communal dining hall for their meals. Whilst the patients ate, allocated staff would stand around leaning up against the walls of the dining area, chatting and keeping an astute eye out for any signs of trouble between patients. When trouble happened, it was dealt with quickly and forcefully.
Every summer the hospital held a sports day, and every Christmas, groups of staff and patients would perform a pantomime for the others. The hospital had it's own church on site and it's own chaplaincy, it also had it's own morgue.
Despite appearances, the place managed to function, all-be-it in it's own peculiar way. Today, Carla, age 20 and Dixi, aged 18, were beginning their first ever eight week ward based placement with an early morning shift that commenced at 7am. The pair had been allocated to Ward 25, a long stay ward which was also one of only two mixed sex wards in the whole of the hospital. The ward and the thirty patients residing on it was managed by one of the more infamous male Charge Nurse's, a man who had the reputation for directing a constant stream of lewd and suggestive behaviours and language toward almost every female student who happened to be designated to his ward, Mr Joseph Woods.
Carla and Dixi had already heard some of the stories credited to the man, and they had formed an agreement that they would look out for each other throughout the placement. Of the two girls, Carla was the more experienced when it came to looking after patients, having spent nearly two years working in a care home for the elderly. Dixi came from a family of nurses, both her mother and father were nurses in a local general hospital in the next town. Dixi herself, however, had spent her time taking on temporary jobs in bars and restaurants and, consequently, she was the more familiar of the two when it came to fending off the unwanted attentions of men.
Both girls paused outside the double doors leading onto Ward 25. Dixi turned to Carla.
"Well? You ready for this?"
"As ready as I'll ever be."
"Ok then...Lets do it girl!"
xxxxxxxXXXxxxxxxxx
A.N. So there's the back ground. I hope it was interesting enough to get anyone who has read it curious enough to stay with me through another case fic for the guys?Anyone who knows my ramblings will also know that I try to update at least weekly so that no one is kept hanging around so long that they loose track.
Chick xxx