Chapter 10 - Asylum
"No, Dad was in California last we heard from him." Sam says into his phone as he paces around the motel room. Dean and Addison sat on a bed. Dean was looking through John's journal while Addison was painting her nails. "We just thought that he comes to you for munitions — maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks." Dean smirks and nudges Addison, causing her to smug her nail. She glares at him and he innocently shrugs. "Just call us if you hear anything. Thanks."
"Caleb hasn't heard from him," Dean asks, turning his his younger brother.
"Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. And Caleb wanted me to tell Addison hi. What about the journal? Any leads in there?"
"No. Same last time I looked. Nothing I can make out. I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like frigging Yoda."
"You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing persons."
"We talked about this. Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail."
"I don't care anymore." A cell phone starts ringing. Dean looks at Addison and she stares back at him. "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. Where the hell is my phone?"
"Under those clothes," Addison answers, motioning to a pile of clothes.
"You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam says.
"Sam, don't say that. John isn't dead. He's just—"
"He's what, Ads? He's hiding? He's busy?"
"I don't believe it," Dean comments and they look at him.
"Care to share with the rest of the class, Dean," Addison says.
"It's a text message. It's coordinates."
A couple of minutes later, Dean is sitting at the table with Addison's laptop in front of him. Sam was still pacing and Addison stood next to the table. "You think Dad was texting us," Sam asks, looking between the two of them.
"Well, he's given us coordinates before," Addison replies.
Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "The man can barely work a toaster, Addison."
"Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay," Dean says, pausing. "Or alive, at least."
"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"
"No, it said 'unknown.'"
"Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?"
"That's the interesting part — Rockford, Illinois."
"What's so interesting about Rockford," Addison asks.
"I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this." Dean turns the laptop around. A picture of a man in a police uniform was accompanied by a newspaper article. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, puts the gun in his mouth, and blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to call at the Roosevelt Asylum."
"Okay, I'm not following. What does this have to do with us," Sam asks.
"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal," Dean answers. He flips open the journal and searches through it before finding the old newspaper clipping. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths — until last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."
"This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job."
"Well, maybe he'll be there," Addison suggests.
"Maybe he's not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing."
"Who cares? If he wants us there, that's good enough for me," Dean replies, standing up.
"This doesn't strike either of you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"
"Sam, Dad's telling us to go somewhere — we're going."
Dean walks out of the room and Sam turns to Addison. "Sam, I stopped trying to figure out why John does things the way he does a long time ago," Addison comments.
Addison doesn't look up from her cell phone when Dean walks out of the bar. She was laying on the Impala's hood. He leans against it and nudges her leg. "You're not going to say anything," he asks. She hadn't been happy over being voted out of talking to Walter Kelly's partner.
"Say anything about what," Addison counters. Dean walks to the front of the Impala and grabs her feet. He yanks her down the hood and she stares at him, eyebrow raised. "What are you doing?"
"I want to see who you're texting," Dean answers, reaching her Blackberry. Addison pushes him away and tries to get away. He grabs her around the waist and she puts her phone in her pocket. "Ads, that's not gonna stop me."
"Yes, it will, man whore."
"Slut."
"Bitch."
Dean shoves his hand down the front pocket of her jeans. Addison throws her head back, trying to hit him. "Guys, what are you doing?" They turn to see Sam.
"This isn't what it looks like," Addison quickly says.
"Its exactly what it looks like," Dean counters, grinning as his grasps the Blackberry. Addison elbows him in the stomach and he removes his hand, along with the Blackberry. "What'd you find out from Gunderson?"
Sam looks between them as Dean shoves Addison's Blackberry in his jacket pocket. "So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even keeled. He had a bright future ahead of him.
"And what about at home," Addison asks.
"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids."
"All right, so, either Kelly had some deep seated crazy way to bust out or something else did it to him," Dean comments.
"Right."
"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?"
"A lot."
The three of them hop the fence that surrounded an old asylum and enter. Graffiti covered the walls while empty beer bottles and leaves were scattered across the floor. Desks and old medical equipment was strewn about. "So apparently, the cops chased the kids here — into the south wing," Sam says, shining his flashlight on a sign above a set of double doors.
"The south wing? Wait second," Dean says. He takes out John's journal and looks through it. "In 1972, three kids broke into the south wing. Only one survived. The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."
"I guess the south wing is the heart of whatever is going on," Addison comments.
Dean snaps the journal shut and shoves it in his jacket. "Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?"
They notice the chains on the door. "Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could have been chained up for years," Sam says.
"Yeah to keep people out — or to keep something in."
Sam walks towards the doors and they swing open. "That's not creepy at all," Addison says and they enter the south wing.
The area seemed like everywhere else in the building. Dean takes out his EMF meter and turns it on. He smirks at Sam. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel."
Sam shoots him an annoyed look. "Dude, enough."
"No, I'm serious, you've gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you've got going on."
"I told you, it's not ESP. I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams."
Dean shrugs. "Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."
"You getting a reading on that thing or not?"
"Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean nobody's home."
"Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day."
"Well, the freaks do come out at night. Right, Dean," Addison comments.
Sam laughs. "Yeah."
"Hey, Sam, who do you think is a hotter psychic — Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you," Dean counters and Sam hits him on the arm.
Addison pats Sam's shoulder. "You get my vote, Sam." They enter one of the rooms. Moldy jars and tools were scattered around. "Gross."
"Man. Electroshock, lobotomies — they did some twisted stuff to these people. Kind of like my man, Jack in Cuckoo's Nest," Dean jokes and they stare at him. He clears his throat and looks around the room. "So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?"
"Could be like Amityville or the Smurl haunting," Addison suggests and Dean nods.
"Yeah, spirits driving them insane. Kind of like my man Jack in The Shining."
"When are we gonna talk about it," Sam asks.
"Talk about what?"
Sam sighs. "About the fact that Dad's not here."
"Oh, uh, let's see, never."
Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm being serious, man."
"So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll just have to pick up the search later."
"It doesn't matter what he wants."
"See, that attitude right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.
"Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean, I mean, this is our family we're talking about," Sam argues. Addison lets out a sigh and looks around the room.
"I understand that, Sam. But he's given us an order."
Sam shakes his head. "So, what? We've got to always follow Dad's orders?"
"Of course we do," Dean replies.
Addison picks up an object and brushes it off. "Hey, guys," she calls and they walk over to her. She holds up the name plate. "Sanford Ellicott. Something big went down here and we gotta find out what."
Dean leans against the Impala as he and Addison wait outside the office building. They had sent Sam to go talk to the doctor. He looks over at Addison and rolls his eyes seeing she was on her Blackberry once more. Annoyed, he grabs the Blackberry out of her hand and she stares at him as he pockets it. Dean shakes his head and sees Sam walking towards them. "Dude, you were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?"
"Just the hospital, you know," Sam replies.
"And?"
"And the south wing? That's where they housed the real hard cases — the psychotic, the criminally insane."
"Nice," Addison sarcastically says, shoving her phone into pocket of her hoodie.
Sam nods in agreement. "Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted — attacked staff, attacked each other."
"And the patients took over the asylum?"
"Apparently."
"Any deaths," Dean asks.
"Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our Chief of Staff Ellicott."
Dean frowns. "Wait, what do you mean, 'never recovered'?"
"Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have stuffed the bodies somewhere."
"Great," Addison comments.
"Yeah. So, they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good."
"All right, so, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies," Dean says.
"Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits."
"Oh, good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight," Dean replies and they climb into the Impala.
Inside the asylum that night, Addison turns on the video camera. She didn't know what it was, but the building did seem more eerie at night than it did earlier. Dean held the EMF meter and Sam held the flashlight. Dean turns on the EMF and it starts wildly beeping. "Getting readings," Sam asks.
"Yeah, big time," Dean responds.
"Well, orbs are going crazy," Addison says and Dean looks over her shoulder.
"There's probably multiple sprits out and about."
"If these unrecovered bodies are causing the haunting…" Sam trails off.
"We've gotta find them and burn them," Dean finishes. "Just be careful, though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer."
"And yet, I can think of other things that would be worse," Addison says. They search around the asylum and end up in a large room. Addison turns off the camera and trades it for a flashlight in the duffle bag.
"Dean," Sam shouts. "Dean! Salt gun!"
Addison turns to see a spirit very close to Sam. Dean pulls out a shotgun. "Sam, get down," Dean orders.
Sam ducks and Dean fires the shotgun. The spirit disappears and Sam stands up. The younger Winchester frowns. "That was weird."
"Yeah. You're telling me," Dean replies and they walk out of the room.
Sam shakes his head. "No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me."
"Uh, looked like she was," Addison counters.
"She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try. So, if she didn't wanna hurt me, then what did she want?"
A noise comes from a room and they stop. They exchange looks and enter the room. Someone was hiding behind a table. Sam moves the table and a young blonde girl jumps. "It's all right. We're not gonna hurt you. It's okay," Dean says and the girl stands up. "What's your name?"
"Katherine — Kat," the girl replies.
"Okay. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Addison."
"Why are you here," Addison asks.
"Um, my boyfriend, Gavin—" Kat starts.
"Is he here," Dean interrupts.
"Somewhere." The three of them exchange a look. Kat lets out an annoyed huff. "He thought it would be fun to try and see some ghosts. I thought it was just, you know, pretend. I've seen things. I head Gavin scream and—"
Dean nods. "Okay, Kat. Come on, Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend."
Kat shakes her head. "No, no. I'm not gonna leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you."
"It's no joke around here, okay? It's dangerous."
"That's why I've gotta find him."
Sam stares and Dean lets out a sigh. "All right, I guess we're gonna split up then. Let's go."
Dean takes Kat and they walk off. Addison shrugs and walks in the opposite direction while Sam goes in a different direction. She huffs and enters a room. The flashlight starts blinking and she slaps it. "Oh come on," Addison mutters. The door to the room slams shut and she quickly turns. "The hell?"
Addison tries opening the door, but it doesn't budge. She slams her hand on the metal. "Hey! Someone open the door," she shouts. "I'm not joking! Open the fucking door right now!"
"Addison," Dean's voice shouts.
"Dean! Open the door! This isn't funny!"
"I didn't do it!"
"Then get me the hell out of here!"
"Ads, hang on!"
Addison rolls her eyes. She lets out a breath and sees it in the air. She turns and sees a spirit walk slowly walking towards her. It was a man, who wore a pair of dirty scrubs and had messy hair. Addison presses her self against the door. "Dean, you need to work faster!"
"Addison, it's not gonna hurt you," Sam tells her. "Listen to me! You have to face it."
"Sam, this isn't funny!"
"The spirits — they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You've gotta listen to it."
Addison blinks and glances at the door. "Are you fucking insane!"
"Addison, it's the only way you're gonna get out of there."
Addison angrily sighs. She turns and sees the spirit standing behind her. She remains still as the spirit leans in and whispers in her ear. The spirit backs up and she hears a faint click. Addison moves from the door and opens it. "Room one thirty seven," she says. She gives Kat and the young man, who she assumed was Gavin, a tense smile.
Dean and Sam kneel down to look through the duffel bag. "All right, so if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone—" Sam starts.
"Then what are they trying to do," Dean finishes.
"Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us."
"I guess we'll find out." They stand up and Dean hands Addison the duffel bag. Dean turns to Kat and Gavin. "So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?"
"That's an understatement," Kat replies.
"Okay." Dean turns to Sam. "You get them outta here. Me and Ads are gonna go find room one thirty seven."
Addison and Dean walk down the hallway while Sam, Kat, and Gavin go in the opposite direction. Silence settles over Addison and Dean. "Are you jealous," she amusedly asks.
"Jealous about what," Dean asks.
"The whole Caleb says hi."
"Addison, I think," Dean pauses. They stop walking and he takes a step closer to her. She looks up at him. His lips hover over hers. "That ghost fucked with your mind." Addison rolls her eyes and walks past him. It doesn't take them much long to find the room. All the furniture was over turned. Papers and other things were scattered all over the place. They go to opposite sides of the room and work silently. "This is why I get paid the big bucks," Dean says after a while.
Addison walks over to him. He was holding a book. "Patients' Journal," Addison reads aloud.
Dean grabs a chair and sits down. Addison looks over his shoulder as he flips through the book. "All work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy."
"Or very lonely." Addison leans in close. "So, if you weren't jealous of Caleb, then why do you keep taking my phone?"
Dean rolls her eyes. "Hey, if you want to fuck an old dude—"
"He's thirty-nine."
"Whatever. I don't care. You can do whatever you want. Hell, it's none of my business anyway."
Addison sighs. "I've been playing sudoku." Dean shoots her a confused look. "It's a Japanese puzzle game with numbers. Are we okay?"
Dean shakes his head in disbelief. "Ads, you're a nerd." She shoots him an annoyed look. "A hot nerd."
Dean and Addison near the entrance of the south wing when a shot of rock salt narrowly misses them. "Damn it," Dean exclaims. He holds up his hands as he slowly edges around the corner. Addison presses herself against the wall. "Damn it. Don't shoot, it's us!"
"Sorry! Sorry," Kat responds.
Addison and Dean step out from around the corner. "Why are you still here," Addison asks, frowning. "And where's Sam?"
"He went to the basement. You called him," Gavin answers.
"I didn't call him."
"His cell phone rang. He said it was you," Kat explains.
Dean and Addison exchange a knowing look. "Basement, huh," Dean asks. Gavin and Kat nod. "All right. Watch yourselves. And watch out for us."
The two of them quickly make their way down to the basement. "Sam," Addison calls out, looking around for the younger Winchester.
Dean sighs. "Sammy? Sam?"
"Sam, this isn't funny!" Addison turns around and stumbles into Dean, seeing Sam standing right behind her. "Damn it, Sam. Say something when we call you."
Dean runs a hand over his face. "You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam replies.
"You know that it wasn't Ads who called your cell, right?"
Sam nods. "Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here."
"Yeah. We think it might've been Dr. Ellicott," Addison says. "It's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?"
"No. How do you know it was him?"
"Cause we found his log book," Dean answers. "Apparently, he was experimenting on his patients — some awful stuff. It makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin."
"But it was the patients who rioted."
"Yeah, but they were rioting against Ellicott," Addison says.
"Dr. Feelgood was working on some soft of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger, then they'd be cured of it," Dean tells him. "Instead, it only made them worse and worse, angrier and angrier. So, we're thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop, to the kids in the seventies — making them so angry, they become homicidal. Come on. We gotta find his bones and torch them."
"How," Sam asks. "The police never found his body."
"The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere, where'd he'd work on his patients. So if I was a patient, I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on him myself."
"I don't know. It sounds kind of—"
"Insane," Addison interrupts.
"Yeah."
"Yeah, exactly," Dean responds as he and Addison search for the room.
Sam huffs. "I told you, I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room."
"Um, that's why it's called a hidden room, Sam," Addison replies.
"Do you hear that," Dean asks, looking around the room.
"Hear what?"
Dean kneels down by a wall. He finds a space between the wall and the floor. "There's a door here." Addison takes a step forward. Something hits the back of her head and she falls to the ground, unconscious.
"Thanks," Kat says as the five of them step outside the asylum. Addison tensely smiles, trying to ignore the dull pain from the back of her head. She had woken up to find both the boys kneeling above her. Sam had kept sending her apologetic looks as they made their way out of the asylum.
"Yeah, thanks," Gavin tells them.
"No more haunted asylums, okay," Dean tells Kat and Gavin. The three of them stand there as Kat and Gavin climb into their car and drive off.
"Hey, Dean," Sam starts. "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there."
Dean glances at him. "You remember all that?"
Sam sighs. "Yeah. It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it — any of it."
"You didn't, huh?"
"No, of course not. Do we need to talk about this?"
"No. I'm not really in the sharing, caring kind of mood. I just wanna get some sleep," Dean says and climbs into the Impala.
Addison clears her throat and gives Sam a knowing look. "You know I would never hit you on purpose."
"I know. I just needed you to say it," Addison replies and climbs into the Impala. Sam shoves his hands into his jacket pocket and gets into the passenger seat.