A/N: Sorry I'm REALLY sucking with updating on time. I am taking a summer class that is consuming all my time. I hope you guys are still reading and keeping up with my updates.
Disclaimer: I only own Allie
Episode: Asylum
Guess who got stuck living in the same room as my brothers for next couple of days. Me! What was once supposed to be a one-night thing has officially turned into a forever thing. Okay, I'm totally exaggerating here. I won't be sharing a room with them forever, but at this point, I'm miserable with the new arrangements. I was just getting used to being by myself, and doing things on my own time. Like showering, sleeping, eating. Now, I was at the point of ripping my hair out.
For instance, right now? I was supposed to be sleeping, taking advantage of the rare opportunity that I get to nap in the middle of the day. Unfortunately, I didn't get the luxury of locking Dean out of the room, so he was able to wake me up. You would think maybe he would be respectful and let me sleep? Not with my freaking luck. The man's excuse for waking me up? Being bored.
Dean shook my shoulder again as I refused to look up and give him the time of day. My head was stuffed into the flat pillow of another icky motel room. I didn't even care about what kind of substances could have been left on this pillow case. I just wanted to catch some z's.
"Dean I swear if you don't stop touching me, I'm going to kill you," I mumbled into the fabric of the pillow case.
Sam was on the phone on the opposite side of the room. He was using his professional big boy voice, meaning he was on the phone with someone somewhat important.
"I just remembered something," Dean said, feeling no sense of worry from my threat.
"I'm about to give you something you'll remember," I said more to myself, but loud enough for him to hear.
"Seriously."
I grunted and looked up from my pillow. I had officially given up on going to sleep any time soon, and slowly sat up, facing Dean in a cross-legged position. My messy bun on the top of my head was now a mess with fly-away hairs going everywhere. My eyes were squinted from being so tired.
"What is it, Dean?"
"Okay, first of all, you're being dramatic. You look like I just woke you up from a ten year coma when in fact you were out for maybe five minutes tops."
"Just tell me what you remembered before I slap you," I said. My eyes glanced towards Sam who seemed to be on the sadder side of the conversation he was having.
"Okay, remember when we were dealing with the hook-man legend and you and I went to the cemetery to burn the bones."
"Yeah?" I said questioningly. Why the hell was he thinking of that moment? That was like two months ago.
"Well you brought it up to me back then." Before I could ask what, he kept going. "You asked me if I ever felt like I was being followed. And I told you no, blew it off and said it was just the paranoia that comes with the job."
"Yeah I vaguely remember," I said, rubbing my hand down my face, exhausted. "What's the significance with that memory?"
"Well—" Dean looked at as if I was being slow to catching on to what he was trying to say. The longer I looked at him, the more I still didn't understand where this story was going. I swear we stared at each other for like a minute. "How do you not hate me?"
"Who says I don't," I replied a little too quickly.
Dean ignored the sarcasm and gave a straight face. "Allie, think about it. If you felt like you were being watched two months ago…you probably were. You—for once in your life—came to me with the problem and I shrugged it off as nothing. I almost got you killed."
Realization hit me and I was quick to shake my head at his nonsense. Dean had a habit of taking the blame for pretty much anything bad that happened to either Sam or I. One time when I was in third grade, my first "boyfriend" broke up with me (we were eight) and Dean felt responsible for my broken heart—said he could've stopped the relationship before it happened.
"Wha—no. Dean. Listen to me, okay. What happened back in Kansas was in no way your fault. If anything, it was mine for not lining my room with rock salt and doing all that other voo-doo-y stuff Dad makes us do. Even if we talked about it more in the cemetery, there would have been nothing we could do. It was a hunch—a feeling and nothing more."
Dean's facial expression never faltered, meaning my words didn't get through to him. "Okay." He said.
"Dean, I'm serious." I leaned over and grabbed his hands. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt. I'm not dead. I'm alive and plan to be long enough to make you go grey before you turn 30. It's like a personal goal of mine and I'm not leaving this planet until I do, okay?"
"I feel like you're going to reach your goal by the time I'm twenty-eight." Dean's hand by reflex reaches up to touch his head.
I smirked and turned my head to look at Sam one more time who looked like he was close to hanging up 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." He said in his phone.
Ah, that's why there was sadness in his voice. He was talking to someone about Dad. You know, it was weird to me to see Sam making so many phone calls on Dad's behalf while Dean was more laid back about the whole situation.
I did my part by calling Dad's number twice a day. Once when I woke up and once when I go to sleep. Each time, I would leave a message in hopes that he actually listened to them. If he did and just decided to never call back…well that was a dick move. But I still hoped that he did. I would tell him that I missed him and hoped he was okay. I would fill him in on the hunts we went on. I didn't mention the demon breaking into my room. No need to throw myself under the bus.
Dean was now flipping through Dad's journal again—something he was doing before I tried going to sleep.
"Did you find anything in Dad's journal about anything?" I asked Dean. I felt like we've been flipping through that thing for weeks for some kind of clue as to where to go next.
"No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."
Sam finally hung up the phone and walked over to where Dean and I sat on opposite beds. "You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person's."
"Sam, Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." I said, getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on my face to wake me up.
I looked up at my reflection. I looked paler than usual. Bags were staring to form under my dull blue eyes. My hair was ratty in its messy bun. My collar bones were prominent in this white tank tops and my sweatpants felt extra baggy around my legs. I looked like I was hit by a bus.
"Sam, we've talked about this," Dean backed me up on this one as I walked out of the bathroom. I plopped back down on the bed.
"I don't care anymore," Sam said. Dean's cell phone rang from across the room. Sam continued to talk while Dean went to find his phone. "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!" Dean was getting frustrated as he rummaged through his duffel bag. I didn't know whether the attitude was directed at Sam or at his missing phone. "Where the hell is my cellphone?"
"You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam said, looking at me now.
"Don't say that!" Dean yelled as I opened my mouth to say the same thing. However, it was a suggestion we would have to come to terms with soon. Dad hasn't been sending us any messages for a while. "He's not dead! He's—he's—"
"He's what?" Sam cut him off. "He's hiding? He's busy?" Sam used quotations around the word busy.
Dean finally found his cell phone, opening it and ignoring Sam. We watched as Dean's eyes scanned over the text message. His face softened as he read it.
"Huh. I don't believe it," Dean said quietly.
"What?" I asked.
"It's, uh…It's a text message. It's coordinates," Dean explained. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. The only one who would send us coordinates would be Dad. Ironic timing, Dad.
Dean immediately opened his laptop and searched the coordinates.
"You think Dad was texting us?" I asked. I had never seen my dad text in his lifetime. Hell, I was surprised to find out he knew how to make a personalized voicemail.
"He's given us coordinates before," Dean shrugged.
"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean," Sam said.
"Sam, it's good news!" Dean stopped to look at him. "It means he's okay…or alive, at least."
Sam sighed and the room was quiet for a moment. "Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"
"Nah, it said unknown."
"Where did the coordinates point to?" I asked after watching Sam starting to grow agitated at the lack of answers Dean was giving because of how secretive Dad was being. I know Sam wasn't mad at Dean. He was mad at Dad for not being here and not telling us what's going on. However, since Dad wasn't here for Sam to take his anger out on, Dean was the closest thing to him.
"That's the interesting part," Dean said. "Rockford, Illinois."
"Ok, and that's interesting how?" I asked.
"I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this." Dean turned the laptop around and pointed to the screen. "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."
"Okay, I'm not following," Sam said. "What does this have to do with us?"
"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see..." Dean reached for Dad's journal and flipped through the pages. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."
Sam snorted, "This is a job…Dad wants us to work a job."
"Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?" Dean's voice was hopeful.
"Maybe he's not," Sam said. His voice was more realistic. Honestly, I had to take Sam's side on this one. Dad hasn't been to any other job he's sent us on so why would he come to this one? "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."
"Who cares!" Dean exclaimed. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"
"This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"
I felt useless sitting in the middle of my two brothers as they argued once again about Dad's disappearance. But I knew there was nothing I could do in this situation. This was something they had to hash out themselves.
"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're going." Dean turned his back to pack up the rest of us things.
Sam stood behind him, making a bitch face as he lost this battle. I sighed and decided it was time for me to change into something more appropriate. I patted Sam on the shoulder as I past him. This was going to be a long ass job, I can already tell.
I waited outside of a random bar in Rockford while Sam and Dean did their own acting bit in front of the cop who was partnered with our victim. This was their way of getting information out of him and I fitted nowhere into the skit. So here I was, standing outside in the cold, leaning against the impala.
My hands were stuffed into my pocket as I watched a drunk couple leave the bar, giggling and helping one another stand. My heart tugged at the scene as I wished for something like that in my life.
I never really had a steady boyfriend. I was just a girl who couldn't count random hook ups on two hands. It was hard to have a boyfriend in this world. The guy would either have to be a hunter or I would have to be normal. In high school I would go on dates, but by the time it would start to get somewhat serious, we would leave the town behind us, and my family would move to a new town for a couple of more weeks. I would enroll in a new school and I would meet new guys. That's just how my life worked.
Dean was the first one to walk out of the bar. By the looks of his face, he wasn't too happy. However, Sam wasn't behind him so I assumed the skit went according to plan.
"Why the face?" I asked him.
Dean fixed his jacket and looked at me. "Sam needs to stop taking his daddy problems out on me."
I sighed. Of course Sam would still be upset. "What happened?" Dean rolled his eyes and didn't answer my question. "He's not angry with you, Dean. He's angry with Dad. It's just easier for him to be mad at you because you're actually in front of him and your supporting Dad's choices."
"You're not?" Dean asked me.
"Why would I?" I asked. Okay, so yes, I was on Sam's side when it came to whether Dad was right or wrong to leave us behind like this. I never planned on telling Dean because I knew he would get butthurt about it.
Dean looked deep in thought as he searched his brain for something to say to me. He never took his eyes off of me, like he was searching for that answer in my head.
Sam walked out shortly after, not looking as upset as Dean was when he walked outside.
"Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy," Dean said to him. Ah, so that's what Dean meant.
Sam shrugged, "I had to sell it, didn't I? it's method acting."
"Huh?" Dean and I said at the same time.
Sam shook his head. "Never mind."
"What'd you find out from Gunderson?" I asked.
"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 asked.
"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids." Sam said.
"Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him."
"Right," Sam nodded.
"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" I asked. I could feel my adrenaline getting ready to pump wildly in my veins. Weirdly enough, I loved walking into haunted homes and scary abandoned buildings. I just felt a rush every time I walked into one.
"A lot," Sam said, looking between Dean and I. I felt myself start to smile.
We went to the asylum late that night. I felt myself begin to bubble up with excitement as we jumped the fence and approached the rusted doors that were chained shut. As soon as Dean broke the chain, we walked in with our flashlights on and guns tucked into our waistband.
"So apparently the cops chased the kids here...into the south wing." Sam pointed to the door to his left.
"I'll take that wing," I raised my hand with delight.
Dean looked at me funny. "Oh, so you'll run away from a couple of spiders but a haunted asylum is a walk in the park for you?"
I glared at him, "A couple of million spiders."
"Whatever," Dean said and turned back t Sam. "You said the South wing?" Sam nodded. Dean opened up Dad's journal again. "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."
"So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it." Sam said.
"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" I asked.
Sam looked around. His eyes landed on the broken chain of the south wing. "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 said.
Sam looked at us before opening the South Wing entrance. I smirked behind my brothers.
Sam brought out his video camera, hoping to catch some sort spirit on tape. Dean held up the EMF reader, waving it from left to right as we walked.
"Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean said to Sam.
"Dude, enough." Sam walked ahead annoyed.
"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 said, talking about his psychic visions.
"Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."
"Are you getting any readings on that thing?" I asked Dean, pointing to his EMF reader.
"Nope," Dean said. He looked up at me. "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."
"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," Sam added.
"Yeah, the freaks come out at night," Dean smirked at his lame asylum joke. I rolled my eyes and followed behind Sam. Dean walked faster catching up to us. "Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"
Sam pushed Dean sideways in response and Dean laughed.
We walked into another room. It was a small square room. The painted cemented walls were chipped and coated in graffiti. The floors were scratched up with some animal droppings scattered around. A metal chair that looked like it had been here for ages was fallen on its side. And the light fixture above us didn't work.
"Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." Dean said.
He turned around to look at me and Sam with crazy eyes and grin on his face. He thought the people who used to live in the asylum were the kind of psychos he watched in horror movies.
"So what's the verdict?" I asked either one of my brothers. "Ghosts possessing people?"
"Maybe," Sam said. "Or maybe it's more Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."
"Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining." Dean grinned.
"Dean," Sam turned to look at Dean more seriously. "When are we going to talk about it?"
"Oh come on, Sam," I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed huff of breath. Why did he constantly have to bring up our father? It was always at the worse of times and usually killed either mine or Dean's good mood. In this case, it would be both of ours. "Don't start this now."
"How can we not talk about the fact that Dad's not here?" Sam asked, like it was crazy for me and Dean to want to ignore that fact. I shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the room.
"Easily," Dean said, taking my side on this one.
"I'm being serious," Sam persisted. "He sent us here…"
"So am I, Sam." Dean turned around to look at Sam. I stopped in my tracks to watch the interaction. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later."
"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam argued.
"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."
"I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order," Dean said. It was comments like that one that made me want to take Sam's side. Dad was our father and not our boss. We had a right to be worried and go against his word if it meant to protect one of us. In this case it would be Dad. However, I kept my mouth shut knowing it would place me on Dean's shit list and looking like a hypocrite in front of Sam.
"So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?" Sam asked.
"Of course we do," Dean said. Sam huffed in frustration as Dean stared at him, waiting for Sam to think of another argument. When Sam didn't say anything, Dean turned around and walked my way, ending that conversation. Something on the floor caught his eye and he picked it up. It looked like an old beat up sign that said "Sanford Ellicott." Dean showed it to us, "You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here."
Neither Sam or I answered. Sam was still in his own head, thinking about Dad and all the places he might be and who he was with. I didn't find a reason to speak and therefore, didn't do so in case I said the wrong thing to trigger either one of them.
The more Sam voiced out his concern for Dad, the more I got worried that something could actually be wrong. Unlike Sam, I took the coordinates Dad sent us as a good sign that he's doing well and even learning how to use all the luxuries a cell phone has to offer. Sam thought of it as a reason to ditch the case and go look for him. I knew to keep my mouth shut in front of Dean because it would only cause issues. Dean was stubborn when it came to Dad. He always had to follow his orders no matter what. Not once have I heard him fight Dad's opinion on anything. I knew if Sam were to keep bringing up Dad's disappearance, it would only cause more bickering between him and Dean. One of these days, the fight's going to blow out of proportion, and I was going to have to suffer the consequences.
By some miracle we found out that Sanford Ellicott had a son who is a psychiatrist in the area. When we called his office, they were somehow able to fit us in for an afternoon appointment. Dean sent Sam in to get in the information out of the guy by going to the appointment.
After we dropped off Sam, Dean and I drove to a local diner to get some milkshakes to go. I got chocolate and he got vanilla. We dove back to the office and waited in the parking lot inside the impala, slurping up our milkshakes in a comfortable silence.
I glanced at the clock above the car's radio and back at the office building. "Sam's been in there for a while." I said.
"Well, you know Sam. He likes talking about his feelings…god knows he has enough of them. He probably just got sucked in and started spilling his heart out."
"He means well, Dean," I said, looking at him with a sensitive expression. Dean's voice had a harsh tone to it and I knew he was still upset about Sam constantly bringing Dad up.
"I know he does, Allie, but he should understand by now that Dad does not want to be found."
"Yeah, but he has a right to be upset," I said. If now was the perfect time to defend Sam it was now since he was gone and Dean wouldn't feel like he was being tagged teamed. Dean looked at me dumbfounded, shocked that I was actually taking his side. "Oh come on, Dean. Don't give me that look. I mean, seriously. Why the hell should we go to wherever Dad is sending us with no questions asked? After this stunt he's pulled, we don't owe him anything!"
"He's our father, Allie. It's not about owing him anything, its about showing some damn respect because he's our father."
"Listen to yourself, Dean! You sound like a robot."
"I can't listen to this right now," Dean got out of the car with his milkshake. He tossed his cup into the nearby trashcan and walked towards the building.
I quickly got out of the impala and tossed my milkshake away too, no longer hungry for the sweet taste. I grabbed his arm before he could go inside and dragged him to the side.
"Dean."
The moment dramatically got more intense as Dean and I stood so close and stared into each other's eyes. I felt so vulnerable under his watch as if he could read my every thought. It wouldn't surprise me if he could read my mind right now. Dean knew me better than anybody on this planet and I'm the same for him. My emotions went from rage to concern. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I thought about what the future for us three could be like if we kept up with act when talking about Dad.
I continued. Dean never took his eyes off of me, "Someday real soon, you're going to have to have a real conversation with Sam about this. He's not just going to let it go because you told him to shut up about it." I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. "Dean, I can't have Sam leave us again. We just got him back."
"Allie," Dean said softly. He looked down at his arm, which is when I realized I was still clutching on to it. My hand was tighter than it was before as if I were to let go, he would be gone too. Dean pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. Just like with my father, I was able to bring out the sappy side of Dean. I was the only one who could do it too—sometimes Sam, but that was rare. "I'll say something, okay? I don't want him to leave either, so if that's what I have to do, I'll do it."
I pulled away and nodded. "Thank you."
A second later, Sam walked out of the building and passed us towards the car. Dean and I passed a confused glance at each other and tried matching his pace.
"Dude! You were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?"
"Just the hospital, you know." Sam shrugged. He was obviously lying, but I don't think Dean caught on to it. But I think he was right, Sam was talking about much deeper issues than the asylum case we were working. I decided to let it slide though. Speaking to a professional could be good for Sam, so I'm glad he used his time wisely.
"And…?" Dean questioned.
"And the south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane."
"Sounds cozy."
"Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other."
"So the patients took over the asylum?" I asked.
"Apparently," Sam shrugged.
"Any deaths?"
"Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott."
"Whaddaya mean, never recovered?" Dean asked.
"Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden."
"That's grim," Dean said.
"Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down."
I nodded, "So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies."
"And a bunch of angry spirits," Sam said.
"Good times," Dean said sarcastically. "Let's check out this hospital tonight."
We went back to the hospital later that night after getting some grub at a drive through fast food joint. Sam was using his video camera again and Dean was also using his EMF reader. We walked in the building through the same entrance we used before. This place was a lot creepier at night. I felt my heart pace start to increase.
"Getting readings?" Sam asked Dean.
"Yeah, big time," Dean said.
"This place is orbing like crazy," Sam said. I looked over his shoulders and into his camera. There were several white glowing dots dancing on his screen.
"Probably multiple spirits out and about," I said.
"And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…"
"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." Dean said.
We split off into three separate rooms. I walked into one that was similar to the small room we saw earlier in the day. However, this room had a metal bed with a grimy mattress laying on top of it.
When I felt a presence behind me, I whipped around, hoping to find Sam or Dean in the doorway. Instead, it was a tiny woman with greasy brunette hair covering her face and a ratty off-white nightgown that looked to be hundreds of years old. Her skin was too white to be healthy. One of her eyes was profusely bleeding and starting to swell at a rapid speed.
"Dean?" I called out to my oldest brother. He was the one carrying the duffel bag that held the salt rock shot gun. I was beginning to get more frightened as the woman was getting closer to me and Dean still wasn't here. "Dean!"
Both Sam and Dean sprinted into the room. Dean was rummaging through the bag as he ran. "Allie! Get down!" He barked and whipped out the gun from his bag. He pointed it at the spirit and shot at her. She disintegrated in front of me.
Now that she was gone, my brain had time to fully think about what just happened. It was so unusual for a spirit to pop out like that and not attack.
The boys looked at me concerned, but I could only offer a confused facial expression.
"That was weird." I said.
"Yeah. You're telling me," Dean said. He was commenting towards the woman's looks. He turned around to leave the room. Sam and I followed behind him.
I shook my head, "No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me."
"Looked pretty aggro where I was standing."
"She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?"
As we walked down the hall, we passed a room that I swore I could hear deep breathing coming out of. Then there was another noise from that same room, like metal scraping on metal. Sam and Dean heard it too and immediately raised their weapons. That's when I realized I was still empty handed, other than the knife in my boot but that wasn't going to do anything to a spirit.
We walked into the room that was equally as messy as the others. In the corner was a bed flipped onto its side. Behind it was a teenaged blonde girl hiding behind it and crying into her knees.
She spun around as soon as she heard us approaching her. She looked beyond terrified.
"It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay." Dean said. "What's your name?"
The girl seemed to instantly begin settling down. "Kat."
"Okay. I'm Dean, and this is Sam and Allie."
"What are you doing here?" Sam asked her.
"Um. My boyfriend, Gavin," She replied tediously. I rolled my eyes. Of course some stupid teenage boy would bring a girl here for some stupid date to try and get her to snuggle up to him because she was scared. Like, hello? That's what horror movies were for.
"Is he here?" Dean asked.
"Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and..."
Kat started shaking at the thought of Gavin being injured somewhere in this building. So Dean stepped in and looked her directly in the eyes. "Alright. Kat? Come on. Sam's gunna get you out of here and then we're gunna find your boyfriend."
Kat's eyes went wide. "No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you."
"It's not joke around here, Kat," I said, thinking I might have a shot at her looking at this situation clearly. "It's dangerous."
"That's why I gotta find him." She said.
I couldn't help but grin at her persistence to stay. She reminded me of myself when it came to protecting the ones that I loved, in my case that was Sam and Dean.
"Okay," I said. She looked relieved to not be fought on the subject. Dean looked at me incredulously as if I was crazy to have agreed to let her come along. Sam merely shrugged his shoulders, not really caring whether she came or not. "Looks like we should split up."
Kat went with Dean while Sam and I took the opposite Wing where Kat said she saw Gavin last.
"Gavin," Sam called out. "Gavin?"
"Hey, Sammy, remember that one time where you almost peed your pants after Dean made us watching The Shining with him in the second grade?"
"Yeah, I remember." Sam grinned. "You refused to share a bed with me that night—said you were afraid I would get a nightmare and wet the bed."
"Yeah," I smiled at the memory. "Now look at us—we're nightmare champions…" I looked at him hesitantly. "Unless you still wet the bed and are just not telling me about it."
"Shut up," Sam shoved me playfully to the side.
Sam and I stopped after we both glanced into one of the rooms and found a boy laying in the middle of the floor unconscious. That had to be Gavin. Sam and I walked over to him and crouched down next to him.
Sam lightly shook him awake. His eyes popped open in shock and fear. "Hey, Gavin. It's okay. We're here to help." Sam said.
"Who are you?" He looked between the two of us.
"My name is Sam and that's my sister, Allie. Uh, we found your girlfriend," Sam said.
"Kat?" Gavin immediately stood up. "Is she alright?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "She's worried about you though. Are you okay?"
Gavin thought about it. "I was running. I think I fell."
"You were running from what?" Sam asked.
"There was…there was this girl. Her face—it was all messed up," Gavin explained. He must have seen this same woman I did.
"Okay, listen, did this girl…did she try and hurt you?"
"What? No, she…uh…" Gavin glanced around awkwardly and looked away from Sam and I.
"She what?" I asked.
"She…kissed me."
Sam and I paused to stare at this kid to make sure we just heard him correctly. Never once in my life had I heard of a spirit making out with humans.
Sam tilted his head, "Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?"
"Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!" Gavin exclaimed.
"Well, trust me, it could have been worse. Now do you remember anything else?"
"She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear."
"What did she say?" I asked.
Gavin looked at me with wide eyes, "I don't know. I ran like hell."
Sam and I nodded but we were still confused at the platonic personality this spirit has. We've never seen anything like it, but apparently they weren't out to hurt people…at least not that one. Who knows how many spirits lurk in this building?
We walked through the dark concrete halls, looking for Dean and Kat. When we turned down the North corridor, we heard Dean yelling. There was clear banging and Kat's name being shouted.
The three of us broke out in a sprint and found Dean pounding his fist against one of the closed doors that lead to another patient's room. He was shouting Kat's name, who I assumed was trapped inside.
"What's going on?" I breathed loudly, glancing at the door with wide eyes.
"She's inside with one of them," Dean said loudly.
"Help me!" Kat screamed from inside.
"Kat!" Gavin cried for her.
"Get me outta here!" Kat said, distressed.
"Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me." Sam said. He spoke loudly for Kat to understand him. "You've got to face it. You've got to calm down."
Dean turned around, stunned with Sam's response to the situation. "She's gotta what?"
"I have to what?!" Kate repeated. Sam's idea made sense to me. The other ghost didn't hurt Gavin. It got close to his face and then left. He seemed to be okay.
"These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it." Sam explained.
"You face it!" Kat screamed. That would totally be something I would say.
"No! Its' the only way to get out of there."
"No!"
"Look at it, come on. You can do it."
Kat didn't protest this time. The door was not going to open any time soon and that ghost had no plans of disappearing. Kat was out of options and she knew it.
"Kat?" Gavin calls out after she becomes silent for a minute.
"Man, I hope you're right about this," Dean said with a shake of his head.
"Yeah me too," Sam admitted.
"He is," I said. Both of their eyes look in my direction. I kept my gaze on the door.
I felt like I could cut the silent tension between the four of us with a knife. The only sound that could be heard was our shallow breaths. Then we heard the click of the door. It slowly opened to reveal Kat standing in the doorway.
"Oh, Kat," Gavin rushed to give her a hug. She didn't look hurt, but she looked stoic and calm. I'm sure she wanted nothing but to get out of here.
Sam walked inside the room to check it out, but it just looked like every other room. Whatever was in that room was long gone.
"One thirty-seven." Kat told Dean.
"Sorry?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the teenager.
"It whispered in my ear. 137."
"That has to be a room number," I said.
Sam glanced behind me at Kat and Gavin before pulling Dean and I with him behind a wall.
"Alright." Sam said once he figured we were out of earshot. "So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…"
"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked.
"Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us…"
"I guess we'll find out," I shrugged.
"Alright." Sam nodded.
We walked back at Gavin and Kat.
"So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?" Sam asked them.
"That's an understatement," Kat asked.
"Okay," Dean said. He turned to Sam. "You get them outta here. Allie and I are going to go find room 137."
Sam nodded and pulled out his flashlight from his back pocket.
Dean and I waited until they were out of sight before we moved to look for room 137. It didn't take long to find it. Dean made sure he went into the room first. This room was larger than the rest, but just as messy. Dean kicked the broken furniture to the side. Filing cabinets were pushed over, papers littered the floor, and the walls were stained with…I don't know what, and I don't think I want to know.
I shined my flashlight towards the fallen filing cabinet. I flipped through some of the folders that were inside. I didn't recognize any of the names so I walked away and looked through other things.
"Find anything?" I asked Dean.
Dean found a loose panel and pried it off. Behind it is a satchel full of papers. Dean turned his at head and smirked at me. I raised an eyebrow and crouched down next to him.
"This is why I get paid the big bucks," He said.
I pulled out a journal and flipped through the pages. The only thing that was written in it was work notes and hand-drawn pictures of medical instruments. Dean swiped the journal from my hand, pulled up a chair, and started reading it, looking concern.
"Well all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy," Dean said.
There was a noise that came from down the hall. Dean and I looked up and out the door. We waited for more noise, but we got impatient and sped walked out of the room.
Dean and I walked down the hall with our pistols in hand just in case. We round the corner and saw Kat and Gavin crouched behind a topped over table. But we didn't see the shotgun in Kat's hand before she raised it and pulled the trigger. Dean thought fast and pulled me by my waist behind the wall.
"Dammit, damn it, don't shoot!" Dean yelled. "It's me! It's me and Allie!"
"Sorry! Sorry!" Kat cried. I heard the clunk of the gun drop to the ground. She genuinely sounded like she didn't mean to do that.
"Son of a…" Dean and I walked out from around the corner. I glanced at the bullet hole in the wall. That could have been my head. "What are you still doing here?" Dean yelled at them "Where's Sam?"
"He went to the basement," Gavin answered. "You called him."
"You called Sam?" I asked, confused.
Dean narrowed his eyes at me like I physically just lost a couple of brain cells. "I was with you the entire time. When did you see me call Sam?" That's the thing. I didn't. I shrugged my shoulders. Dean rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to the kids. "I didn't call anybody."
"His cell phone rang. He said it was you," Kat said.
"Basement, huh?" Dean looked around and grabbed the rifle Kat shot at us with. "Alright. Watch yourselves…and watch out for me!"
Dean and I sprinted to the basement. It was big, cold, all-cement, and equally as messy. Again, Dean made me stand behind him as if I was twelve years old again and training for my first case.
"Sammy? Sam, you down here?" Dean called out.
"Sam?" I yelled.
When we reached the last step, we saw Sam standing in the middle of the room. He didn't say anything. He just stared at us.
"Man, answer me when I'm calling you!" Dean said, walking closer to him. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," He said emotionlessly. I narrowed my eyes at him. Something wasn't right.
"You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here."
"I think I know who." Dean said. He still wasn't catching on to Sam's new behavior, but I did. "Dr. Ellicott. That'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 I found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a coupla aspirin."
"But it was the patients who rioted."
"Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm 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 'em."
"How? The police never found his body." Sam said.
"The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself."
"I don't know, it sounds kinda…"
"Crazy?" I finished Sam's sentence. I raised one eyebrow.
"Yeah."
Dean walked past us and into another door. He looked at Sam and I, gesturing for us to follow him.
"I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room." Sam said.
"Well, that's why they call it hidden…" Dean knocked on the wall a couple of times until he heard something hollow. He whistles. "You hear that?"
"What?" I asked.
"There's a door here."
I moved to crouch down next to Dean and knocked for myself. Dean found this pretty easily, I don't know why it would be so hard for Sam to find.
"Allie, Dean." Sam said behind us. I heard the click of a gun behind me. It was so quiet, yet deafening. My body froze up, my heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to come out of my mouth. "Step back from the door."
Dean and I slowly rose to our feet and turned around. Sam was holding the rifle at our heads. A trickle of blood ran from his nose. He quickly wiped it away and continued to glare at us. I knew something was wrong, and I hated myself for not saying anything sooner.
"Sam put the gun down," Dean said softly but with so much authority in his voice. I saw his eyes flicker to me and his fist clenched at his side.
"Is that an order?" Sam mocked. I clenched my teeth and felt my jaw tighten.
"Nah, it's more of a friendly request," Dean said sarcastically.
Sam raised the gun higher to show who was boss here, "'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders."
"I knew it," I said. "Ellicott did something to you."
"For once in your life, just shut your mouth." Sam yelled at me.
"What are you gonna do, Sam?" Dean said. His voice was loud so that Sam would move his attention away from me. "Gun's filled with rock salt. It's not gonna kill us."
Sam pulled the trigger and shot Dean in the chest. Dean flew backwards into the hidden door, breaking it, and landing in the secret room. I barely had time to scream before it was my turn. The rock salt hurt so bad it felt like an actual bullet. I felt as if there was an actual hole in my chest when I knew there was nothing but a forming bruise. I felt the wind being knocked out of me. I couldn't breath when my back smacked against the concrete floor. Tears clouded my visions as I coughed for air. I felt paralyzed on this rotten floor, but I was also terrified when Sam stood over us.
"No," Sam answered Dean's previous question. "But it will hurt like hell."
"Sam!" Dean said. He tried getting picking himself up, but the most he could do was drag himself across the floor. Even then he didn't make it that far. "We gotta burn Ellicott's bones and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal." Dean looked at me. "Are you okay?"
I physically couldn't answer.
"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little solider? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"
"This isn't you talking, Sam." Dean said.
However, I thought differently. This sounds exactly like Sam voicing his thoughts. When we were younger and Dean was out on a hunt alone with Dad, Sam would complain like this to me all the time. He hated how Dean was so quick to wallow under Dad's every command.
"That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you." Sam pointed to me with his rifle. "I'll bet you sweet little Allie-girl will agree with me."
I glared at him.
"So what are you gonna do? Huh? Are you gonna kill me?" Dean taunted.
"You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."
Dean licked his lips, glancing between me and Sam. I didn't know what to say. Sadly, I kind of agreed with him, I just didn't have the guts to say it.
Dean nodded and pulled out his handgun from his jacket. He looked at it for a couple of seconds and offered it up to Sam. "Well here, let me make it easier for you. This gun has actual bullets."
"Dean," I finally managed to speak disapprovingly.
Sam observed the gun of a second before taking it. He dropped the rifle to steady the smaller, yet more lethal gun in his two hands. He pointed it at Dean shakily.
"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger." Dean paused. "Do it!" He screamed.
My heart stopped beating when Sam pulled that trigger. Instead of a loud boom of a bullet, the gun clicked softly. The chamber was empty. He tried shooting it again, only to get the same reaction.
My inner sisterly instincts kicked in and I leapt from my spot on the floor despite the immense pain I was under. I kicked Sam in his stomach. He hunched over. I swung my leg to hit behind his knees with my foot. He fell to the floor and rolled over on his back.
Dean moved quickly to stand over him, "Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol!"
Sam stared up at him, not saying anything and not showing any emotion either. Dean brought his fist down on Sam's face, knocking him out instantly.
Dean patted Sam's shoulder as he walked over him, "Sorry, Sammy." He turned around to look at me one more time. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, let's just get out of here." I said.
Dean nodded and went to look around the room. I moved to the curtains and pulled them aside. The window was boarded up. I couldn't see outside. Dean opened up on of the cupboards from the sink area. As soon as he opened it a horrid stench after through the air, smacking me in the face like a hard punch.
"Oh that's just gross." Dean said. I gagged. Dean rummaged through his duffel and pulled out the salt, pouring it all over the body. "Soak it up."
I watched as Dean went looking for his lighter when a gurney rolled quickly across the room hitting Dean and knocking him over. I raised my gun immediately, but didn't know what to point it at. When I turned around, an old man whose skin was mostly green and wrinkly grabbed my face.
My skin stung like I was being electrocuted. I could feel every nerve in my body light up on fire, pricking at my skin to get free. It was one of the worst pains I have ever experienced. Time felt like it was ticking slowly. I didn't know how long my heart would be able to take this new energy being injected to me.
I was about to drop to my knees, ready to give up and let life be taken away from me as long as it meant the pain would stop. Luckily around the same time, Dean threw the lighter onto Ellicott's body. He screamed out in pain as his spirit disappeared from this world forever. Then I actually did fall on my knees, feeling entirely too weak to stand myself up.
Dean was immediately at my side, helping me stand up by placing one of my arms around his shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
I swore he asked me that like a hundred times in the last twenty minutes.
Sam woke up as we approached him. Perfect timing might I add. He sat up, clutching his bruising stomach and tilted his head when he looked at us.
"You're not going to try and kill me, are you?" Dean asked. Sam raised his hand to push at his jaw, where Dean had punched him. He shook his head. "Good. Because that would be awkward."
My love for asylums officially died after the end of this hunt.
By the time we left it was officially morning. We met Gavin and Kat outside of the building. I was able to stand on my own, but Dean made sure to stick by me in case my legs decide to give out.
"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean told the teenagers.
They nodded their heads eagerly. I don't think they had to be told twice about that order. We said our last goodbyes and walked to our separate cars.
"Hey, Dean?" Sam said before getting in the car. I opened the back door of the impala and leaned on it. Dean turned around to look at him. "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there."
"You remember all that?" Dean asked. I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.
"Yeah." Sam frowned. "It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it."
Yeah he did, I thought. He meant every word. He just didn't mean to say it.
"You didn't, huh?" Dean said also not believing him.
"No, of course not," Sam said. He stared at Dean. "Do we need to talk about this?"
Dean turned around to get on his side of the car. "No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep."
Sam looked down at his shoes sadly and hopped into the passenger seat. He didn't look at me for help because he knew of all the nights we stayed up talking about our feelings on the issue. He knew I was on his side, but ever since he left for college, Dean and I grew undeniably close. I could never voice my thoughts like Sam did. I couldn't hurt Dean like that.
SAM'S POV:
Falling asleep that night was close to impossible. Dean and Allie shared a bed because Dean and I were still hesitant to let Allie get her own room after the stunt with the demon. We wanted to know what we were dealing with or what the demon was looking for before we put her in that kind of situation again. Both of them were still upset with me due to what happened at the end of the hunt. I don't blame them either. Ellicott turned me into a dick, but unfortunately, none of the stuff he said wasn't true.
I missed the times that Allie and I would spend talking for hours on end about how we truly felt about this family. Although Allie didn't feel as out of place as I did, we had similar feelings when it came to how Dean acted with Dad. I wished she would say something to him so that he could see how easily controlled he was around Dad. Maybe he wouldn't listen to me, but I sure as hell think he would listen to Allie. She was the little sister—so precious and almost always right. I envied the way Dad and Dean—and even I looked at her. Maybe if I felt as loved as she did, the way I feel about this life would have been different. But now I'll never know.
Every time I closed my eyes I heard the gunshot of the rock salt rifle ringing twice in my ears. I would hear the thump of two bodies hitting the ground and remember that was me shooting my siblings to cause harm. The thought made me nauseous.
Around three in the morning, Dean's phone rang loudly on the nightstand between our two beds. I waited for it to ring a couple of times to realize he and Allie were in a deep enough sleep to not hear the phone. That was rare. Ellicott must have did a number on them tonight…there's that nauseous feeling again.
I reached over to grab his phone and looked at the caller ID. Unknown. I didn't think anything of it when I answered it. However, I wasn't expecting the voice on the other end of this call. I had given up hope of ever hearing this voice again.
"Dad?"