CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD
SPIDERS IN THE WEB
CHAPTER 9
Dean refused to let Sam drive. He insisted, it would help him feel better to be behind the wheel of his baby. Sam, reluctantly agreed. He was thankful that his brother was getting back to being himself.
The day had carried on, feeling somewhat normal. Dean played his usual music, sometimes too loud. The boys didn't talk much, they just enjoyed the peace they were feeling. They were content with feeling good about the day. Neither of them were sure where they were going, Dean just knew he needed to get away from where they were at.
They pulled into a small town, Alton, Illinois. It was a quiet little place. Baby needed some fuel. Dean pulled up to the pumps and gave his baby what she needed. He checked the fluids under the hood, he needed to feel some normalcy, but, if he had to admit it, he was feeling worn out and needed a break from the road. There was a little honky tonk bar that was near the gas station.
"Hey, Dean? How about we go grab a bite to eat." He pointed toward the nearby joint.
Dean's heart beat a skip. Sam felt stupid for suggesting that. He remembered what Dean had said about the fear of being hurt again, the fear of humans. But, he also agreed to leave all that behind. Dean nodded his head.
"Okay."
That was all he could manage to say. After taking care of Baby, he drove them to the grill and bar. He hesitated just a moment when he opened the door, Sam was behind him and gave him a slight nudge, pushing him through the threshold. They found a small table in the back corner to sit at.
The nice-looking waitress came over and gave them both menus and took their drink orders. Dean, without thinking, ordered his regular beer. He mentally slapped himself, but let it go, figured one beer couldn't hurt anything. Sam ordered the same.
When the waitress returned with their drinks, the boys ordered their meals. Dean ignored her, couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with the waitress. Sam over compensated for him, and was extra nice to her. He wasn't going to push his brother. He knew just being here was a big step for him. It was more than he's been able to do for days.
Dean drunk his beer faster than he planned to. Sam ordered him another one when he realized Dean's hands were trembling.
"Dean?" Sam spoke quiet and leaned over the table, making himself closer to Dean so he could hear him. "You okay?"
Dean took a moment then nodded his head yes.
"We'll just order this stuff to go if you want to, I'll tell the waitress I'm not feeling well or something." Sam suggested.
"No, I'm fine."
Dean picked up the daily newspaper that was sitting nearby and started glazing through it. Not looking for anything particular, he was just trying to find something to fill his mind. He stopped when he came across an article that caught his attention.
"Hey Sammy, what do you say we stay here for a night or two?" Dean asked as he handed his brother the article he had just read.
Two more teens are missing after they ventured into the Enos Sanitarium. The closed down Sanitarium is known by the locals for its hauntings. It's a common attraction for locals and tourists alike. Melissa Bark and Thomas Smith were reported missing when they did not return home yesterday morning.
They reportedly told their friends they were going to sneak into the Sanitarium and stay the night there. That was the last time they were seen. Just a week ago 3 more teenagers, who were visiting the area, snuck into the Sanitarium during the night, and have not been seen since.
The local board is discussing the possibility of tearing down the old building in an attempt to keep the teenagers safe. There have been a growing number of missing teens attached to their visits to the Sanitarium. There have only been reports of 4 adults missing after their visit, these men and women were reported to have announced they were going to visit the place after it closed, in an attempt to capture ghosts on their cameras.
Sam looked up at Dean, a spark in his eye, Dean's eyes matched. It had been too long since they had been on a hunt, and this seemed like a simple salt and burn. The place was already known for its ghosts, they just needed to figure out which one became vengeful and take care of it.
Without saying a word, they both agreed they needed this hunt. The waitress brought their food, and another beer for each. Sam took the opportunity to ask her about the article and the reports of missing people. She explained to them how she thought people were stupid for trying to go there when they weren't supposed to.
No one who went during regular business hours ended up missing. She didn't understand what all the hype was about anyhow. It was just an old closed down building with a crappy past that everyone thought made it a special historical building.
Sam, showing genuine interest, continued to ask the waitress questions, she told him she was getting off in 10 minutes and would come back to talk to him then. When she returned she took a seat between Sam and Dean. She began telling them about the malpractice that eventually got the sanitarium closed down.
It was originally opened for TB patients, like most sanitariums. There were thousands of people who were admitted but never discharged. There were several ditches they dug surrounding the place, when the patients would die they threw the body into the ditch, once the ditch was full, they would fill it back in with dirt, burying the bodies, and dig another ditch.
No one really knows how many people died there, or how many people are buried there. She continued to explain to them that once someone was admitted, the family would never see them again. No one visited, no one cared, they knew when their loved ones were sent to the sanitarium they were good as dead. But, some of the patients were women, single mothers, or even pregnant at the time they were admitted.
The children, and the newborns who were born there, didn't get to leave. They didn't leave the children with other family when the mom was admitted. She said there was an entire floor that was just for the little ones, some of them sick, some of them not. But, mostly everyone in the building ended up getting sick due to exposure.
The children were kept like animals, she explained. And the doctors did a lot of medical testing on them, making some of them handicap, or mentally deranged. She explained how some of the children, as babies, were subject to horrific torture to their bodies, leaving them twisted like a pretzel as they grew older, it was for the purpose of studying the works of the body and muscles she explained, or at least that's what the doctors claimed.
She went on to tell them that once TB became less and less, the sanitarium became a place for the mentally ill. She explained that you didn't have to be mentally ill to be admitted. That a family member could admit anyone they wanted to. By the time the 'interview' was over they were always able to find something that made them seem crazy.
They did things like shock therapy, or worse, on them. Both the sane and insane. They still had a floor for children, some of them moved to the adult floor, the ones who had survived the TB outbreak, they were never released, they were just eventually moved to the floors with the mentally ill once they were old enough.
She explained how all it took was a child who was strong willed, disobedient in anyway, and their parents could have them admitted. Once admitted, much like the TB outbreak, they were never discharged. They were subjected to endless torture. She explained how there were several suicides there, and what she considered murders, all though the officials said the deaths were from natural causes. She explained how she knew of at least one more ditch that was dug and buried after the TB outbreak, it was full of the people who were deemed mentally incapable of living in society.
She laughed when she said that, truly, no one would be considered 'sane' these days, that everyone was a little 'off their rocker' in one way or another. Sam agreed. Dean had become interested enough that he had looked up from his lap and practically held eye contact with her the entire time.
"How do you know all of this?" Dean eventually asked.
The waitress blushed a little, ringing her fingers together. "Because, I've lived here my whole life, my father, he had my mother committed, said she was 'sick in the head'. I don't know, I think, looking back, she had a form a depression. But, honestly, don't we all at one time or another?"
She gave a slight smile to both of them and continued. "The thing is, I didn't go with my mom. I stayed with my grandparents, which was practically unheard of. They thought that if the mother was mental then the kids would be too." She paused.
"So, why didn't you go with her?" Sam asked.
"Because, my dad… my dad was one of the doctors there. He knew how bad it was. He, honestly, he fell in love with another woman, so he didn't care about my mother. That was his way of getting her out of the way. But, he didn't want me subjected to the torture he knew I would be put through. He argued that since I was his child, and he was so smart and educated, that I took after him, and wasn't mentally insane. No one even questioned him." She said with a sigh.
"How old were you?" Dean asked.
"When my mom got taken away?" she asked to clarify what Dean had asked.
Dean nodded.
"I was four." she answered.
Dean's eyes filled with a sadness. "I was four when I lost my mother too." he replied. "Sam…" he said, pointing at his brother, "was just a baby so he doesn't remember her being killed."
Suddenly it seemed Dean and the waitress had a connection.
"My mother," she started, "had just had my little brother. I think maybe she was going through some post-partum crap. He was 5 months old, he doesn't remember her either. Dad, he tried to have him sent with her, but couldn't justify how one of his children would be mentally fine while the other's not. And I begged him to leave him with me. I told him I'd take care of him, that he didn't need to worry about him. I'm shocked, to be honest, but he agreed. He let me keep him."
She had basically, just admitted to the same life Dean was forced into. Their mothers gone, left to raise their little brothers.
"Where's your dad now?" Sam asked.
Breaking eye contact with Dean, and the connection they had found, she turned to Sam. "I don't know." Her eyebrows raised, saying she really didn't care. "I've heard different stories. Some say he died in the sanitarium, during some patient riot or something like that, killed by one of his patients. Some say he just disappeared. Honestly, he wasn't the nicest guy in the world, and I'm glad he's gone, no matter where he is, he isn't in my life anymore."
Dean nodded his head, feeling the anger and hurt that was radiating off of her.
"And your brother?" Dean asked.
She turned and locked eyes back with Dean. "He's more like my mother. He's doing fine, he's got me, and I would never let anything happen to him, ever. He lives with me. He's my whole life. Our dad, the times he came around, he would always want to hit on him, beat him. He hated him! I don't know why, maybe because he looks so much like our mom? But, I put a stop to that really quick, of course, that doesn't mean my dad's anger lessened, it just means it was focused elsewhere."
Dean nodded his head again, "yeah" was all he could get out.
She understood from that one word that her and Dean had even more of a connection than they realized, so, she continued, not breaking eye contact with him. "He was lonely, after getting rid of Mom. The other woman, I don't know what ever happened to her. But, Dad decided when I was 12 that I was old enough to be 'his'. He didn't need another woman, he had me, and I was able to take care of all his needs. Which, I did, without a word of complaint, as long as he left my brother alone."
She saw the ache in Dean's eyes. The look that said he'd been there, done that. The deepness that opened up his soul. She saw into the older brother that would do anything, literally anything, to protect his little brother. The brokenness inside that he couldn't hide in the refection of his dark green eyes. He couldn't speak, just slowly nodded his head, trying to fight back the watery tears that threatened to fill his eyes.
Sam shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what to do, or say, at that moment. He was feeling their connection, the understanding they had with each other. After a moment, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence at the table. They both blinked and turned their attention to Sam, who looked uncomfortable sitting there.
Dean just gave a half smile at his brother and shook his head at his uncomfortableness.
"So," Sam asked, "What's your brother's name?" He was stuttering just a little, sure that only Dean could hear the nervousness in his tone.
"Andrew." she answered.
Sam looked at her name tag, "Angel and Andrew, cute." he said with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.
She smiled back. "So," Angel started, "You boys aren't from around here, I'm guessing, and I'm also figuring you're gonna be looking for a motel to stay the night at?"
She glanced between the two of them as they both nodded their heads with a "yes ma'am."
"Look," she started again, "I don't usually do this. Actually, I don't ever do this! But, I don't know, something about you two," she looked back at Dean, locking eyes again, but for only a moment this time, "Andrew and I have a spare bedroom, and a couch, if you want to hear more history about that old run-down building."
Sam was shocked, she was offering them, complete strangers, a place to stay at her house. He knew they needed as much information as possible if they were going to try to rid the place of the vengeful spirit, or spirits. He was equally as shocked when Dean didn't even hesitate with his answer.
"Yes" Dean said, without even thinking.
He sounded a little too eager, tried to add to it without making himself sound like a creep but failed miserably, stuttering over his further explanation as to why he would want to stay with her. But, honestly, he couldn't explain why. He had felt this deep connection and didn't want to lose it, didn't want to leave her.
Not because he wanted to be around a woman, but because he wanted to be around the deep feeling of someone who understood. Someone who connected with him on so many personal levels. Something his brother could never do, something he would never want his brother to do. If he did, that would mean he would have to feel the pain he felt, and he never wanted that for him.
He had this sickening feeling that Angel felt the same way about Dean, and Andrew. They quickly paid their bill. Angel asked if it would be okay if she rode with them, she would show them the way. She didn't own a car, she walked to work and back every day. She only lived 2 miles away, she said. As if 2 miles wasn't a long walk. But, she did it for her brother. She insisted he wasn't able to work, that she feared their dad did something to him, messed him up mentally, maybe damage from the beatings when he was little, or maybe he did testing on him without her knowing.
She wasn't entirely sure, but she apologized for his weirdness before they ever got to her house. Dean and Sam both chuckled at her apology, assuring her it would be okay, they were used to weird.
When they approached the home, it was off a dirt road, the only house on the road. It sat at the very end, surrounded by open fields and wooded areas. It was an old, run-down house. The siding on the outside was peeling off, a few shingles on the roof were missing, covered by pieces of blue tarp to keep the rain out. The steps going into the house was creaky and felt weak. The porch that outstretched the front of the home was equally as weak, a few boards were missing off to the side of it, one looked like something had fallen through it.
There were 2 old wicker rocking chairs sitting on the end where the boards were missing. They were barely holding together, the pads on the seats were weathered and torn, the chairs, no longer white, the paint had faded off leaving them more of a brown, dirty color.
The front door, seemed to get stuck when she tried to open it, she laughed about how this place was falling apart. She told them it was her grandparents' old house. When they walked inside, it was like time had stood still. Everything inside the home appeared to have belonged to her grandparents as well.
They walked into the living room, the carpet was old, it was an orange shag carpet that had been so worn it was flat, no longer the fluffy shag it once was. The curtains covering the windows, they were white with big orange and yellow flowers on them, behind them, black garbage bags covering the windows. Dean and Sam figured there wasn't much insulation in the home, especially the windows, thus the reason for them being covered with plastic. It gave the home an earie dark feeling.
There was an old brick fireplace, the only source of heat, the fire was already lit, keeping the home warm against the coolness of the outdoors. The couch and chair didn't look very comfortable. They were a brown color, with some type of western horse theme on the cushions and wooded arms and legs. The coffee table in front of them was a dark wood that matched the arms of the furniture, it had big wagon wheels carved out of wood on the ends of it for legs.
There was a small table that sat between the couch and chair that matched the wagon wheel coffee table. On the small table was a brown and orange lamp that was some type of glass made into the shape of a horse. Above the fireplace were pictures. Family pictures. Dean took a moment to look at them, not needing to even ask who they were, he just seemed to know.
One picture was of Angel, about four years old, and Andrew, maybe a couple months old, with their mom and dad, all smiling and appeared happy. One picture was of Angel and Andrew when they were around 10-14 years old, he could see the sadness in Angel's eyes, but Andrew appeared to have a genuine smile that lit up his face.
There was one of the kids with their grandparents. The grandfather didn't seem like he was a very happy man, but grandma appeared to have a heart of gold. She looked like she was the loving, nurturing type, the kind that baked homemade cookies when friends came over. He ran his finger down the mantle in front of the pictures, leaving a line in the thick dust.
On the wall were pictures of western horse scenes. The walls, were a brown panel, making it appear even gloomier. He made his way into the kitchen where Angel and Sam had walked into. Angel was giving Sam the rundown of the home, explaining where everything was at and insisting, even though they didn't have much, for them to make themselves at home.
The kitchen was brighter, not as warm feeling, but the walls were covered in white wallpaper. It wasn't a bright white, it was old, starting to dull and turn brown. There were little red roosters all over the wallpaper. It matched everything else in the room.
The table was one of those old metal tables, it was also red and white, the chairs were a silver color, matching the legs to the table, with red leather cushions. The counter tops were white as well as the old farmhouse sink. The curtains covering the window, that was also covered with an old garbage bag, were red and white stripped, the white on those were turning brown as well, from age and dirt that has collected on them.
The stove was an antique stove. Dean didn't think anyone used those anymore. The flooring was a plaid linoleum, of course, it was red and white as well. There was a back door, painted white, with matching red and white striped curtains covering the window that was hidden behind the garbage bag.
Behind the back door was an old washer and dryer. He was sure that was added later, it hadn't been part of the original home, this house was too old for that. He followed them back through the living room and she showed them the small bathroom. Dean was sure, by the looks of it, this room was added later as well.
It was barely big enough for a pedestal sink that sat beside the toilet, leaving about a foot between the toilet and small shower. There seemed to be just enough empty space to stand and do what needed to be done, no one would ever spend more time than needed in this room, that's for sure.
She apologized, stating that was the only bathroom they had. Neither Sam or Dean cared, they had stayed in worse places, places with no bathrooms. There was a small closet beside the bathroom that held the towels and extra blankets. She apologized again that it's an old house and could get cold, especially at night.
She then made her way up the old staircase. Dean made note of the weak handrail that he was surprised was still standing as weak as it felt. Upstairs, there were 3 doors, all of them closed. The stairs came to an opened landing, not really a hallway, more like a big empty space surrounded by doors.
She opened the first door. "This is my room" she said as they walked in.
It looked a little more modern. There was a double sized bed, it had an old antique metal frame that was painted white. With a matching white dresser and a white makeup stand that had 3 mirrors on it, and a bench sitting in front. The top of it was cluttered with all her female things for her hair and makeup, stuff she needed for work, to put on the appearance that was needed for her job.
The floor was an old hard wood floor with a large area rug that covered most of it. Her closet door was open, her clothes hanging from the hangers with a pile of dirty clothes thrown on the floor beside it. Her bedding looked new, well, newer than the rest of the house.
It was a pink and red flowered comforter, with pink sheets and pillowcases. She had black and white pictures hanging on her walls. Pictures of places like Paris and Rome, and ones of cute little kids kissing and holding hands in front of the landscape in different countries. Her curtains were a pink lacey material. She had garbage bags covering her windows as well, but you could tell part of one was removed often, she probably opened it to check sounds or other things that came from outside.
They followed her to the next room. She announced this was the spare room where one, or both, of them could sleep. It was held in time, like the rest of the home. It had an old metal bedframe with an old wooden dresser that held a large mirror. On top of the dresser was an old box, some type of a man's jewelry box perhaps.
There was old bedding that was covering the bed that was made up. It didn't appear to have been slept in for quite some time. The room held an earie feeling. One window was boarded up and the other covered with the same black garbage bag. The curtains were straight, dark brown.
The walls the same dark paneling as downstairs. Not like Angel's room, her room was painted a bright, light pink, almost white color. The bedding was a blue and brown mixed together, just simple, nothing else in the room. Nothing that could be seen at first glance anyhow.
Dean turned and noticed Angel was standing at the door. She remained outside, hadn't walked into the room. Dean gave her a questioning look as he stepped back towards her.
"This… this was my dad's room, when he would come home."
There was a sadness in her tone as she spoke. Dean reached out and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her into his embrace for just a moment before releasing her. His way of saying he understood, without saying anything at all. They left that room, understanding she didn't want to be anywhere near it, and followed her to the last room.
"This is Andrew's room." she said as she knocked on the door.
"Andrew? Can I come in?" she asked as she cracked open the door. "I have some friends here, they're going to be staying the night with us, I wanted you to meet them." She continued to talk as she opened the door wider and stepped inside.
Andrew was sitting at a desk in his room. He was scribbling some drawing onto a piece of paper. His walls were painted a light blue color and were covered by pictures taped to them. Sam and Dean both assumed they were pictures that he drew, since that seemed to be what he was doing at that moment too.
His floor had a tan carpet on it. The only room that seemed to have carpet, and it didn't look worn out, it looked like it was pretty new. His windows were the only ones not covered with garbage bags. The windows in his room, looked like they had recently been replaced, they were thicker, insulated windows.
His bed was a newer wooden framed bed with bright blue and white bedding. The dresser and desk in his room seemed to be new as well. Dean could only guess that his sister had been working and using her money to fix her brother's room, to provide him with what he needed, to make sure he was comfortable and warm.
His room was the warmest room in the house. And looked like everything in it had been remodeled and was new. He noticed a small heater placed in the wall of his room, it ran from propane Dean guessed, since he was sure this old house wouldn't be able to handle the addition of an electric heater.
"Andrew." Angel spoke a little louder, getting her brother's attention. "Don't be rude. This is Dean and this is Sam. They are my friends, I wanted you to meet them."
Andrew nodded his head at them as to say hi. Then turned his chair back around to his desk.
"You have a lovely sister." Sam said.
"Don't even think about it!" Andrew replied in an angry tone.
Sam just chuckled, he knew the 'little brother tone' all too well. "Dude, I wasn't, trust me. She's nice and all, but I had no intent on anything inappropriate."
Andrew gave him a small glance.
"What'cha drawing there?" Sam questioned.
"Stuff." Andrew replied.
Sam looked around the room. "Are all these your drawings?"
"Yeah."
"They're good."
"Thanks."
"Ever do anything professional?"
Andrew turned and looked at Sam with a questioning look.
"You're good enough, that's all I'm saying." Sam reassured him.
By the look Andrew gave, he had never heard that before. Sam then noticed some pictures with monsters and what appeared to be supernatural beings.
"What are these?" Sam questioned.
Andrew dunked his head, Dean and Angel had walked out of the room long before their conversation started, leaving just Andrew and Sam alone. Andrew's face flushed, he wasn't used to having anyone talk to him, especially if they were treating him like a normal human being and not some freak. He didn't want to mess that up.
"Just some stuff." he replied, but kept his head hung low.
Sam took a longer look at one of them. "Have you seen these before?"
He asked, knowing that one of them looked a lot like a monster he had hunted before. Andrew was too embarrassed to answer, Sam sensed that, and decided to help him out.
"I think I've seen something that looks like that before." He said as he pointed to one of the pictures.
Andrew shot his head up to see what he pointed at and gave a look of disbelief.
"No, really, I have." Sam reassured as he sat on the edge of the bed in the room.
"Really?" Andrew asked, wanting to believe him, but afraid he was just playing some sick joke on him.
"Yes. I've seen a lot of things that are like that, my brother and I," Sam paused, not sure why he was saying what he was about to say, but felt the need to anyhow. "That's… well, that's kinda what we do, we hunt things like that." Sam pointed in the direction of the pictures.
"We kill them, make sure they don't hurt anyone else." He was maintaining eye contact, trying to make sure Andrew believed him and understood, he wasn't playing a joke on him.
"Is that why you're here?"
Andrew's question took Sam by surprise.
"Should we be here for something like that?"
Andrew answered by nodding his head, he had turned back around and continued his drawing as Sam heard Dean call his name. Sam stood, placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder.
"Is it okay if I come back in here and talk to you some more later?"
Sam wanted Andrew to understand he wasn't trying to push his presence on him but was there if he needed someone to talk to. Andrew nodded his head yes and Sam left the room to find his brother.
