𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻

•Chapter ten•

(Before y'all start reading the chapter, I apologize for the wait! This episode is going to be in parts, just because I want to get something out, and this is currently all that I have. So, enjoy it!)

~Asylum~

_____________________________

"No, dad was in California last we heard from him." Sam said on the phone. "We just thought if he comes to you for munitions, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks."

Dean flipped the page of the book in his lap as he looked over at August who sat on the floor with her pacifier in her mouth, playing with her toy car.

"Just call us if you hear anything. Thanks." Sam said, then hung up the phone.

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" Dean asked.

"Nope. Neither has Jefferson or pastor Jim." Sam stated. "What about the journal? Any leads in there?"

"No. Same last time I looked. Nothing I can make out." Dean said. "I love the guys, but I swear he writes like freaking Yoda." He chuckled.

"You know, maybe we should call the feds, file a missing persons." Sam said, looking over at Dean.

"We talked about this. Dad would be pissed if we put the feds on his tail." Dean stated.

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

Dean then got up as his phone started ringing from across the room.

"After all that happened back in Kansas— I mean, he should have been there. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and nothing."

"I know." Dean said as he was rummaging through their stuff, trying to find his phone that was still ringing. "The hell is my cellphone?" He muttered.

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

"Don't say that." Dean stopped and looked at his brother. "He's not dead. He's—" Dean stuttered.

"He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?" Sam questioned.

Dean grabbed his phone as he had finally found it, and just as he looked at it, it stopped ringing. Dean flipped his phone open, then scoffed.

"I don't believe it."

"What?" Sam asked.

Dean sat down on the bed.

"It's a— a text message. It's coordinates." He looked over at Sam.

~~~

"You think dad was texting us?" Sam asked as Dean typed on his laptop, while Sam fed August.

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

"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean." Sam stated, holding up some mashed potatoes to August from one of the microwaved frozen meals that Dean kept buying.

"Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay— or alive." Dean said, glancing over at his brother.

"Was there a number on the caller I.d.?" Sam asked.