Title: Chapter 2

Author's Note: Here we go….

Disclaimer: Still applies

The Impala pulled into the parking lot of Somerset House by midmorning. Dean and Sam got out of the car, impressed with what they saw. Somerset House was a big step up from most state institutions. The three story brick, colonial style house was nestled in the foothills of the Mountains, surrounded on all sides by lush pine forest. Just outside, people knelt in lush gardens, tending to flowers and trimming bushes.

In fact, the only real thing about the place that screamed 'nut house' to Dean was the eight foot high perimeter wall topped with rolls of barbed wire. That and, he admitted to himself, the large wrought iron gates that required a special code from inside the compound to enter, along with the armed man that sat in the guard station. Dean was well aware that the mass majority of people would consider him worthy of being locked up in such a place. It was a sobering thought.

Sam on the other hand, was trying to reconcile with the fact that the last time he'd been in a place like this he'd ended up possessed by the spirit of a long dead, psychopath doctor. He'd tried to kill Dean that night; it wasn't a memory he liked reliving.

The two brothers passed through the front entrance, each lost in their own thoughts. It wasn't until Dean sighted a perky blonde headed girl in an antiquated white nurse's uniform acting as receptionist that the elder Winchester brightened. "Hi there," she greeted them cheerily, "how may I help you?"

Dean opened his mouth to answer. He wanted to tell Andrea, his eyes narrowed as he read her name tag, that she could help him any way she liked, especially if she felt up to playing doctor for a while. A discreet elbow and Sam clearing his throat stopped him.

Sam ignored the annoyed glare coming from Dean. "Hello. Yes, actually you can help us. We're Sam Rodin and Dean Sallsbrook from the Boulder Camera newspaper." Sam flashed the ID badges he had made up a couple towns back. "We're here to interview Parker Quinn about her sister's disappearance."

Andrea didn't bat an eyelash, appreciative blue eyes never leaving Sam. "Sure," she said. Andrea smiled, probably thinking it was coy, though really was anything but. Sam felt a flush begin to rise up his neck. Dean's expression got just that much darker. "Let me just ring up an attending and Dr. McAlister."

It only took a few minutes for the Dr. to arrive. Dr. McAlister was a short woman with graying red hair and a pale complexion. Pale blue eyes were enlarged behind the thick lenses of her glasses, a silver chord draped around her neck. She held a clipboard in her right hand. A tall, husky blonde man trailed in her wake. "Hello," she held out her hand, "I'm Dr. McAlister. You must be the reporters." Introductions were made all around, including Luke, the hulking attendant obviously used as muscle should a patient get too unruly. "Please put all loose belongings in this basket," she leaned over the desk and pulled out a plastic container. "All keys, wallets, watches…"

Dean and Sam followed Dr. McAlister up three flights of stairs to the top floor. "Ms. Quinn has not been officially admitted to my care yet," McAlister informed them as they walked. "She is here for a week of observation due to a request by the D.A., admittance pending my final report."

"And what will that report say?" Dean questioned.

McAlister looked at him sharply. "I'm not permitted to discuss the specifics of any patient's care. It would breach confidentiality."

"Yeah," Dean shot her a dazzling smile. "But I mean, off the record, is there any truth to what this Parker chic is sayin'?"

Dr. McAlister stopped just outside a locked white door. "Off the record?" Dean nodded. "Off the record Ms. Quinn is suffering from induced paranoid delusional psychosis brought about by a traumatic incident."

"And in plain English that would mean?" Sam asked.

The doctor had her hand on the door handle, a key card hovering above an electronic lock. She deadpanned, "girl's crazier than a loon." Then she swiped the keycard, opened the door and led them inside.

Neither Sam nor Dean knew going in exactly what they expected to see. Parker Quinn sat quietly behind a long table, her feet propped up, leaning back in her chair. Thick, long dark hair fell in front of her face, obscuring it. She had her arms crossed over her chest. "Parker," Dr. McAlister drummed her knuckles on the table top, "feet down please."

After a long moment of silence the girl complied, sliding her feet off the table, her chair rocking forward to sit square on all four legs. "Sure doc, whatever you say." From what the brother's could see of her beneath the unflattering hospital pants and shirt, Parker was an athlete. She had a small, hard waist and lean, wide shoulders.

"These young men are from the Boulder Daily Camera. They're here to interview you about last week. Do you remember last week Parker?" McAlister spoke to her as is speaking to a child, and not a bright child at that.

At that Parker looked up sharply, her chin jutting out defiantly. "You think I'd forget?" she queried slowly, each word dripping with contempt. She stood abruptly, slamming bandaged hands on the table. Her hair fell back then, and for the first time Dean and Sam got a good look at her face. She might have been pretty, but for the ugly expression she bore, and the injuries. She had a square face with a strong, stubborn chin, which from cheekbone to forehead on the right side was a nasty bruise, mottled colors ranging from yellow to a deep purple. She had full red lips, though the top one had been badly split. Dark, forest green eyes raged with emotion. Her skin was smooth and tanned, turned slightly olive by the sun. Taut muscles bulged in her forearms, testament to the fact she was a climber.

"Calm down Parker," McAlister held up her hands. Her voice never wavered from its even monotone. "Are you up to doing this today, or should I send these gentlemen away till you've collected yourself?"

"No," she sneered, her eyes snaking over the brother's, "I'm collected." She sat heavily in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Well all right then. Parker, these are Dean Sallsbrook and Sam Rodin from the Daily Camera." Parker shot the brothers a quick glance, her eyes narrowing slightly as she appraised them. Sam shifted uncomfortably. The doctor wagged a finger at the younger woman. "I want no trouble from you, do you understand me?"

Parker's lips thinned and her head rolled loosely to the side. She offered the doctor a sloppy, two fingered salute which segued into flipping McAlister off. Then she smiled, "Don't worry, I'll behave like a good little psychopath."

Dean bit back a grin. "If it's all right with you Doctor, we'd like to speak with Ms. Quinn in private. We're looking for an exclusive, and she might be more comfortable not being watched. Parker nodded enthusiastically from her spot behind the table, sitting up a little straighter. McAlister looked uneasy. "You can station your attendant right outside if there's any trouble," Dean said reassuringly. "Please, as a personal favor?"

The doctor flushed. It had been many many years since anyone had looked at her the way the young reporter was looking at her then. She pushed her glasses back on her nose, then relented. "All right, but just for ten minutes. The patient is easily upset right now, you have to understand."

"Of course," Dean was nodding, already steering the doctor and Luke out of the room. Sam slid into the seat across from Parker. Dean shut the door and came back to stand beside his brother. "So, what's the deal with this big bad you say you saw?"

For the first time since entering the room Parker's face shifted to something other than hostile. Her eyes widened a little. "Are you serious? You're not just here to write that I went berserk and killed them like everyone else?"

"Well," Sam leaned farther across the table, "did you?" The angry glare returned.

Hey," Dean shrugged, "it is the obvious question to ask."

She was regarding the brother's suspiciously now. "No," she said seriously, lifting her fingers to her split lip. "I didn't kill them. I wouldn't hurt anyone."

"That's not what your arrest record says. You were arrested for assault 5 years ago."

Parker started. "How do you know that?"

"It's in your police file," Sam told her. "We've got connections in the department." Yeah, Dean thought, a good wireless internet connection and enough time and skill to hack the police database.

"Did it also tell you that the bastard I beat up raped one of my best friends, or that he tried to rape me?" The brother's exchanged a horrified look. "But the police couldn't make the charge stick." A slow smile slid over her features. "They couldn't make the assault charge stick either. Kathy and a few other girls in my dorm gave me a really tight alibi. And before you ask, yeah, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I just wish I'd had a shotgun and not a baseball bat. But that's really neither here no there is it? You want to know what happened down in that cave or not?"

Dean grinned. Crazy or not, the girl had attitude. "Definitely yes. If it wasn't you that killed that kid, who was it?"

"Not who," she shook her head grimly, "not as far as I could tell. What. It was dark, and my headlamp only illuminated it for a second but…" her eyes drifted away from the boys. Sam watched out of the corner of his eye as her fingers began to tremble. "It had red eyes, and it smelled…rotten, decayed. I smelled it, when the wind blew, right before Aiden…" her eyes filled with tears.

"He fell." Parker nodded, swiping angrily at her tears. "Bu you were climbing," Sam pressed. "And Aiden was new to it right? What's to say he didn't just fall? Accidents happen."

"No, they don't. Not to me, and not like this." She sniffed once more before looking Sam in the eyes again. "I've been doin this a lot of years, and I've never had a serious accident with anyone I've climbed with. Besides, Aiden was above me, and that's just not possible. That wall was a hundred feet down. Angie and Aiden went down before me. I was watching their top ropes. They were both off belay before I started repelling. And that's when everything started goin to hell."

Parker was staring down at her bandaged hands, gnawing on her lower lip. "What happened then?" Dean's asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"They…they started screaming." Her voice caught. She picked at the bandaged on her hands. "And then Aiden stopped, and it was just Angie, and she was running. And then she wasn't. Next thing I knew, I heard something and there was this breeze. That's when I saw it, those eyes and a face…." She shuddered, "a face I can't describe. Then Aiden fell past me. I let go of my anchor line and fell the last twenty feet. When I came to, everything was dark. I fished around in my pack for my penlight. Aiden was right next to me. His neck was broken and he was just starin at me. Looked like a wild animal got at him. Angie was gone. I looked for her for hours, but she was just gone."

"I came back to get help," she chuckled mirthlessly, "and instead I get arrested and locked in here. I don't know what I did in a past life man, but I'm like some kinda karmic leper."

"Know what you mean," Sam agreed. He stood, the legs of his chair scraping on the linoleum. He held out his hand, which she shook. "Look, thanks for talking to us. We'll do what we can to investigate whatever it is that killed Aiden and your sister." Sam turned to leave. Dean too, shook her hand, and when the surprise registered on her face he just winked. Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall. They'd been talking for seven minutes. McAlister had given them ten. She still had time.

"Angie's not dead." Both Winchester brothers stopped dead in their tracks.

"You know that?" Dean's brow furrowed.

"She's my sister. I know. Wouldn't you?"

Hazel green eyes flicked over to Sam. "Good point. You're not bad, you know that?" the elder Winchester begrudgingly admitted. "You got that whole, bitchy defiant act down pat."

"It's not an act."

Dean shrugged, not particularly interested in picking an argument. "Well whatever, you're still a pretty good actress."

"Yeah," she grinned, "but not as good as you two." She winked at them. "Now go on, before time runs out." Sam shot her a bewildered glance. Time for what? "And if you were serious about that favor, would you mind distracting that ape Luke for a minute or two?"

"Why?" Sam asked cautiously. "What are you gonna do?" It bothered him that Dean was grinning like a cat, already standing by the door.

Parker hefted the chair she'd been sitting on. She looked between the window and the brothers. "Escape," she explained seriously. "So I can look for my sister like I should have been doin all along. Bye now." She shooed him away with one hand.

Dean reached over and dragged a still confused looking Sam out the door by the shirtsleeve. Luckily, there was no need to distract Luke. Andrea, the tiny, blonde receptionist, looked to have his attentions thoroughly under control farther down the hall. "Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy?"

"We're on the third floor."

"Yep," the twinkle in Dean's eyes got brighter. His lips parted in a devilish smile the moment he heard the sound of shattering glass. Luke brushed past his shoulder as he darted for his abandoned station. Andrea was already sprinting in the direction of the nearest phone, presumably to call an alert to the staff. Dean and Sam had just hit the second floor when the alarms went off.

McAlister and the rest of the staff of Somerset House spent the next hour searching the grounds for Parker Quinn. All the patients had been wrangled up and delivered back to their locked, windowless rooms. The good doctor had even detained Dean and Sam, not wanting to risk Parker escaping when the gates opened to let them out. The brothers waited impatiently in the visiting room, Dean flipping through TV stations in his boredom.

When, after an hour all the search had turned up was a scrap of fabric hanging from a section of barbed wire fence, the Winchesters were permitted to leave. McAlister showed them to the door, face pale and obviously flustered. "This has never happened here before," she stammered nervously, obviously hoping to dissuade the 'reporters' from casting a bad light on her facility. "Somerset House is a secure institution. I just can't believe it. Our perimeter walls are eight feet high, there's no way…"

Sam, ever the pragmatist, pointed out the flaw in her line of thinking. "Parker Quinn is a lifelong climber and a professional spelunking guide. She managed to scale down a three story building in the time it took you to sound your alarms. I don't think an eight foot fence is that far a stretch." If looks could kill, Sam would have been a goner.

McAlister returned their belongings, unceremoniously dumping them on the counter. "Your vehicle will be inspected before you are permitted to leave the grounds," she sniffed. Then she turned on her heel and marched off.

Dean stuffed his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. Then he clapped Sam soundly across the shoulder. "Way to charm 'em Sammy." Sam groaned a little. "Come on Cassenova, time to get the hell outta Dodge."

Dean unlocked the Impala and soon they were rolling down the driveway. The armed guard came out of his station and motioned for them to stop. "I am required to check your vehicle sir." Dean nodded impatiently. The guard peered into the car's interior, carefully scrutinizing the back seat. Then he got down on his knees to check the undercarriage. "Now pop the trunk please sir," the guard said as he rose. Sam's tongue flicked out over his lips. There was no way to explain the vast assortment of weapons and other paraphernalia the had in their possession.

"Look man, there's no trunk release in this car," Dean said gruffly. "You have to have the key, and the keys have been inside the house with me this whole time. Just let us go, we're late for our deadline." The guard thought about it for a moment, then nodded and stepped aside, radioing back to the house for the gate to open. The Impala rolled through onto the street.

"You think she was telling the truth?" Sam asked a few minutes later.

Dean shrugged. "I think if you did kill someone, coming up with a creature of the week story makes for a piss poor alibi. You'd have to be either crazy, or stupid. Quinn strike you as either one?"

Sam ran a hand over his mouth. "No, she didn't. But she didn't exactly give us a great description to go on either." It was then Sam noticed that Dean was pulling the Impala onto the side of the road. "What are you doing?" Dean didn't answer. He killed the engine, hopped out, Sam at his heels, and headed for the back of the car. "Dean?"

"It's a surprise," the elder Winchester said blandly.

Dean popped the trunk. Sam flew backwards, caught off guard as a dark haired figure leapt out of the car. Parker, wide and wild eyed, sprinted a few yards away from the car and whirled. She held a long bladed Bowie knife out in front of her, waving it menacingly at the brothers. She swiped her hair out of her eyes, her gaze darting between the brothers and the Impala's trunk where she'd spent the last hour and a half nestled between a lethal looking sawed off shot gun, and a duffel bag full of Holy water and wooden spikes. "All right," she said breathlessly, "who the hell are you freaks?"

Chapter 2

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