I don't own Supernatural or any of it's characters. I only own Isabeau and my own original characters.

Sam is sitting on the bed, talking on the phone, "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."

"'Kay." The voice on the other line says.

"Thanks." Sam hangs up the phone.

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" Dean asks, flipping through John's journal.

"Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Anything leads in there?" Sam asks.

Dean shakes his head, "No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

Isabeau walks into the motel room and closes the door behind her. She walks over to Sam and sits next to him, "So, Dad hasn't heard from John at all. He'll keep us updated if he does. Oh and get this."

Sam and Dean look at her, waiting. "What?"

Isabeau chuckles, "Dad is out of 'retirement'."

Dean scoffs in surprise, "You're kidding?"

Isabeau shakes her head, "Nope. At least it lasted a good two years. But he said he's not doing anything big without back up from his coven. And he's only picking up a couple here and there so that way he's not away from home for too long."

Isabeau sighs, "Anyway, any luck on your end?"

Sam shakes his head and pauses, "You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person's."

"We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." Dean says.

"I'd be pissed." Isabeau comments.

"I don't care anymore." Sam says.

Dean's cell phone rings and he crosses the room.

"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." Sam says.

"I know!" Dean rummages through his duffel, "Where the hell is my cell phone?"

"You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam says.

Dean looks up, "Don't say that! He's not dead! He's – he's…"

"He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?"

Dean finds and flicks opens the cellphone.

Dean scoff, "Huh. I don't believe it."

"What?" Isabeau asks.

Dean sits down on the other bed, "It's, uh...It's a text message. It's coordinates."

Dean is typing on a laptop.

"You think Dad was texting us?" Sam asks.

"He's given us coordinates before." Dean answers.

Isabeau snorts, "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean." She knew John as well as his own sons knew him.

"Isabeau, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least." Dean says.

"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?" Sam asks.

"Nah, it said 'unknown'."

"Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?"

"That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois." Dean tells them.

Isabeau purses her lips, "Ok, and that's interesting how?"

Dean glances at the two of them, "I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this."

Sam and Isabeau walk over, taking a seat and look at the laptop. "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." Dean explains to them.

"Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?" Sam asks.

Dean grabs John's journal, "Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see…"

Dean finds the page he was looking for, "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

Isabeau drops her face in her hands, realizing why John sent them the coordinates. Sam snorts, standing up from his seat, "This is a job... Dad wants us to work a job."

"I mean, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?" Dean says hopefully.

Isabeau picks her head up, and bites her lip, "Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares!" Dean closes John's journal and the laptop, "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!" Dean gets up and walks to his bed as Isabeau turns in her seat.

"This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?" Sam asks.

"Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'." Dean says, walking out the door with his things.

Sam makes a bitchface and sighs. He turns to Isabeau, "Do you think this is a good idea?"

Isabeau sighs, getting up from her seat, "You really want to know what I think about all of this?"

Sam lets out a laugh, "Your opinion is important to me, Beau."

Isabeau bites on her lip again, and runs her fingers through her hair, "I think that John just wants us to leave him be for the time being. Hunting things. I think he wants to find whatever it was that killed Mary and Jessica without putting us in danger."

Isabeau chuckles bitterly, "Though we're always in danger so…" She shrugs, "I don't know, Sam. Parents are weird. They're only doing what they think is right even if they might be wrong."

Sam looks down in silence, "Do you think that this will ever change? That one day, this will all be over?"

"I want it to." Isabeau looks away, "By god, Sam. I want to be able to stop one day, you know that." In a way, she hated what she was. There were times where she wishes she was born human.

Sam nods, "I know."

"But I also know that I'm never going to. You, Dean and John… after you kill this thing. You can stop."

Sam stares at her, "Not if you continue."

Isabeau gives him a look, "Sam, you will not give up a chance at anything remotely normal for me." She knows that he loves her, but she also wanted him to be happy. Isabeau would give up her own happiness for him. He deserved a chance.

"But I don't want normal anymore." Sam says. 'I want you', is also what he wanted to say, but he still wasn't ready.

Isabeau says nothing, but grabs her jacket and the rest of her things, "Come on. We can talk about this later."

Sam stares after her as she walks out the door.

"So what do you think?" Isabeau asks. She was on her phone, sitting on the impala's hood.

The person on the other line sighs, "If there is one things I know about my older brother, black mamba, it's that he doesn't like to stay still for too long." Her Uncle C tells her.

"I know, it's just strange, you know? This whole thing with the boy's father and then all of the sudden right after, Dad goes back to hunting?" Isabeau explains.

"I can't shine a light on anything. My brother only likes to call once in a blue moon."

Isabeau rolls her eyes, "That is such a lie. Dad loves you and you know it." Isabeau can count the number of times on her hand that her father calls his brother every month.

Uncle C hums in thought, "You got me there. Think we could meet up quick tonight? I know this wonderful restaurant in Paris, France that just opened. We can pop in and I'll have you back to your boys before they even notice your missing."

Isabeau scoffs, "Paris? Uncle, the majority of the restaurants you take me to require me to dress up."

"Black mamba, you know that we must keep up with appearances. Besides, deep down, you love it." Uncle C tells her.

Isabeau groans, "I hate it when you call me out." Her Uncle C was right. Even though she wore baggy t-shirts, ripped jeans, worn out boots and too many leather jackets; deep down, Isabeau loved dressing up for special occasions.

Isabeau looks over at the bar, seeing Dean walk out, "I would love to, Uncle, but, um, we kind of got something going here."

Dean walks up to Isabeau taking a seat next to her, and tilts his head at her. 'Who is it?' He mouths to her.

'Uncle.' She mouths back and Dean nods.

"Ah, that's too bad. Raincheck?"

Isabeau laughs, "Raincheck, Uncle. I'm sure after this I can drive up one night."

Uncle C chuckles, getting her hint, "Of course, do what you need to do. I'll wait patiently."

Isabeau scoffs, "You're never patient."

"I can be when I want to. I love you, black mamba."

Isabeau smiles, "I love you too." With that she hangs up her phone and places it in her jacket pocket.

"Uncle C, huh?" Dean asks.

Isabeau hums in confirmation, "Yep. He wants to take me to some fancy restaurant that just opened up."

"Fancy?"

She nods, "You know, doing up my hair, wearing a dress that could be put towards a semester of college debt and jewelry to go with it. The whole sha-bang."

Dean chuckles, "And he just has that stuff on hand?"

Isabeau nods, "Are you kidding me? That man has an entire room set up for me, complete with a closet full of clothing that I could use for a downpayment on a house. Actually scratch that, mansion."

Dean looks at her surprised, "Seriously? What does that man do for a living?"

Isabeau bites her lip, holding back a smirk, "He's pretty much head-honcho in his area of work. So he makes big bucks."

Isabeau juts her head to the bar, "How'd it go in there?"

Dean rolls his shoulders, "Good, Sam made it believable. Shoved me pretty hard." Rubbing a spot on his shoulder.

Isabeau pouts playfully, "Aww, poor baby. Want me to kiss it better?" Isabeau purses her lips, making kissing noises.

Dean smirks at her, leaning close, "I'd have you kiss more than just that, sweetheart."

Isabeau's jaw drops and dramatically fans herself, "Oh my, Dean. You sure know how to make a girl blush."

Dean shakes his head at her fondly as Sam walks out of the bar.

"Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy." Dean says to Sam.

Sam raises his hands in defense, "I had to sell it, didn't I? It's method acting." He walks over to the passenger side.

Isabeau's eyes widen at Sam, "Wow." She whispers under her breath.

Isabeau and Dean turn around. "Huh?" Dean asks.

Sam waves him off, "Never mind."

Isabeau juts her head, "What'd you find out from Gunderson?"

Sam leans against the impala, "So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him."

"What about at home?" Dean asks.

"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids." Sam explains.

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

"Right."

"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" Isabeau asks.

Sam scoffs, "A lot."

Sam, Dean and Isabeau jump over the tall chain linked fence at the asylum and enter. When they enter, Isabeau feels like she's going to throw up from all the pain that floods her.

"So apparently the cops chased the kids here...into the south wing." Sam indicates a sign over one door.

"South wing, huh? Wait a second," Dean flips through John's journal, "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."

Isabeau takes a breath, pushing down her sickness, "So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it."

"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean asks.

Sam takes notes of the broken chain, "Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years."

"Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in." Dean closes John's journal.

They look at each other, and then look at Isabeau, who is leaning over in a corner, hands on her knees, breathing deeply. "Beau? Hey." The two walk over to her, Dean rubs her back and Sam pulls hair away from her face.

"Isabeau, what's wrong?" Dean asks, concerned.

Isabeau swallows, "Sam hold my hair back and both of you, look away." Sam holds her hair back and the two look away. She pulls over a stray bucket and empties out the contents of her stomach.

Sam and Dean look away with a grimace. They were a little disgusted by the noise, but they couldn't be mad at her. Something was obviously affecting her greatly.

Dean continues to rub at her back, "What happened?"

Isabeau coughs, "All the pain in this place, it's just seeping into me. It's vile." Isabeau is able to stop and wipes away some stray bile on the corner of her mouth. She pulls out a bandana that she keeps on her person and wipes it off her hand.

"Sorry." Isabeau stands up straight, throwing the dirty bandana into the bucket.

Sam shakes his head, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Beau."

Dean still rubs Isabeau's back, "You wanna sit this one out?"

Isabeau shakes her head, "No… I'm good now. I just need to close myself off from everything here. I'll be good. You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Dean chuckles, "Wouldn't dream of it"

Sam goes back to the door and slowly pushes it open.

Sam, Isabeau and Dean walk down a hallway. "Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean comments.

"Dude, enough." Sam says, annoyed.

Dean chuckles, "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 says.

Dean looks down at his EMF, "Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."

Isabeau sighs, "Dean, cool it. You get any reading on that thing or not?"

"Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home." Dean says.

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

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night."

"Yeah."

Isabeau glances at them with a smile, "3am; the witching hour. When the supernatural is at their most powerful."

Dean smiles at her but then addresses Sam, deadpan, "Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"

Sam pushes Dean, who laughs.

Isabeau laughs as well, "Oh, Sam, hundred percent. Ow!"

They walk into a room full of medical supplies and an old examination chair in the middle of the room. Sam coughs and Isabeau makes a face of disgust, "Way cooler in horror movies." She comments and Sam gives her a look.

Dean whistles, "Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." Dean makes crazy eyes and grins at Sam and Isabeau.

Isabeau returns it, but Sam ignores him and Dean's smile drops. They look around some more.

"So. Whaddaya think? Ghosts possessing people?" Dean asks.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl hunting." Sam says.

"Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining." Isabeau grins. Dean holds his hand up and Isabeau high-fives it, then walks away, looking at the rest of the room.

"Dean." Dean looks at Sam. "When are we going to talk about it?" Sam asks.

"Talk about what?"

"About the fact Dad's not here."

Isabeau sighs, "Oh boy." She whispers to herself.

"Oh, uh, let's see, never." Dean says.

"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." Dean tells him.

"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam argues.

Dean points at him, "See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie."

Sam shakes his head, "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."

Dean nods, "I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order."

"So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?" Sam asks.

"Of course we do."

Sam gives Dean a frustrated face. Dean stares at him then turns away, ending the conversation.

Isabeau pokes around and picks up a sign, "'Sanford Ellicott'...You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here." Isabeau states, placing the sign in Dean's arm and walks away from the both of them, not looking at either of them in the eye. She was sick and tired of the fighting.

Dean sighs and walks away, leaving the sign with Sam, who stares down at it.

Isabeau sits in the waiting room, on a couch and flicking through a magazine. A man comes to the open door. The sign on the door reads 'Dr James Ellicott, Clinical Psychiatry'.

"Isabeau Fitzgerald MacLeod?" Dr. Ellicott calls for her.

Isabeau smiles softly, hearing her actual last name being said for the first time in years, "I usually just go by Isabeau Fitzgerld, but that's me."

Dr. Ellicott waves her forward, "Come on in."

Isabeau closes the magazine, tosses it on the couch and they move into the inner room.

"Thanks again for seeing me last minute." Isabeau takes a seat, taking off her jacket.

She looks around the room, "Dr...Ellicott. Ellicott, that name. Wasn't there a...a Dr. Sanford Ellicott? Yeah, he was a chief psychiatrist somewhere."

"My father was chief of staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?" Dr. Ellicott asks her.

Isabeau smiles sheepishly, leans back and crosses one leg over the other, "Ah. Well, I'm sorta...a local history buff. Hey, wasn't there, an incident or something? In the hospital, I guess. In the south wing, right?"

"We're on your dollar, Isabeau. We're here to talk about you." Dr. Ellicott reminds her.

Isabeau shakes her head, "Oh, okay. Yeah, yeah. Sure." She chuckles.

"So."

"So."

"How's things?" He asks her.

"Ah, things are good, doctor." Isabeau forces a smile.

"Good. What you been doing?"

Isabeau thinks, "Ahh, same old. I just been on a... on a road trip with my… with my two best friends."

"Was that fun?"

Isabeau pauses, fun in some aspects, shitty in others, "Loads. Umm. You know, we...ahh...we...met...a lot of ...interesting people. Did a lot of ...ah...interesting things...ahhh. You know? What was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I forget…"

"Look, if you're a local history buff, you know all about the Roosevelt riot." Dr. Ellicott interrupts her.

"The riot? Well, no. I know. I'm just curious." Isabeau says.

"Isabeau. Let's cut the bull, shall we. You're avoiding the subject." Dr. Ellicott leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.

Isabeau blinks at him, "What subject?"

"You. Now I'll make you a deal. I'll tell you all about the Roosevelt riot, if you tell me something honest about yourself. Like, uh, these two best friends you're road tripping with. How do you feel about them?

Isabeau looks at him, a little freaked out. Well, doc, how do you feel about the idea of polyamory relationships?

Dean and Sam lean against glass windows next to the door, looking bored.

Isabeau walks past them, and Dean and Sam catch up and match her pace.

"Beau! You were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?" Dean asks.

Isabeau glances at them, "Just the hospital, you know." She lies through her teeth, not wanting to tell them the real reason why she was taking so long; not yet at least.

"And...?" Sam asks.

"And the south wing? It's where the housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane." Isabeau explains.

"Sounds cozy." Dean comments.

"Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other."

"So the patients took over the asylum?" Sam asks.

"Apparently." She answers.

"Any deaths?"

Isabeau sighs, "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 furrows his brow, "Whaddaya mean, never recovered?"

"Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden." Isabeau guesses.

"That's grim."

Isabeau nods, "Yeah. So, they transfered all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down."

"Alright, so, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies." Sam concludes.

"And a bunch of angry spirits."

"Good times. Let's check out the hospital tonight." Dean says.

They head back to the asylum, Sam pushes open the door with Isabeau and Dean beside him. Sam is holding a video camera, Isabeau with a flashlight, and Dean has the EMF meter.

"Getting readings?" Sam asks.

"Yeah, big time." Dean answers.

"This place is orbing like crazy." Sam says, Dean and Isabeau glance at the video camera,seeing a bunch of orbs floating in the hallway.

"Probably multiple spirits out and about." Dean suggests.

"And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…" Sam trails off.

Isabeau moves her flashlight around the hall, "We gotta find 'em and burn 'em. 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."

They keep walking, and they hear something behind them. They turn around to find nothing. Isabeau shakes in disgust, "This place is fucking creepy." They continue walking.