Asylum Pt 1

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   It had been a few weeks since the case in Kansas. My shoulder had healed and I was ready to go on another hunt. We were at another motel. Dean was flipping through Dad's journal and I looked over his shoulder. Sam was sitting on bed, talking to one of dad's friends.

  "No, dad was in California last we heard from him." Sam talked into the phone. "We just thought if he comes to you for munitions, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks." There was a pause. "Just call us if you hear anything, thanks." Sam hung up. 

 "Caleb hasn't heard from him?" I asked Sam. He shook his head.

 "Nope, neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim." He told us. "What about the journal, any leads in there?" 

  "No, same last time I looked," Dean informed. "Nothing I can make out." He laughs. "I love the guy, but I swear he writes like freaking Yoda." 

  "Maybe we should call the Feds, file a missing persons." Sam suggested. I looked over at him in shock. 

  "We talked abut this," I reminded him. "Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." Dad already wasn't gonna be happy and I wasn't gonna make it worse.

 "I don't care anymore," Sam admitted. "After all that happened in Kansas -- he should have been there, Dean even said so." We were interrupted by Dean's phone ringing. He got up to answer it. "Dean tried to call him and nothing."

  "I know," Dean said, looking for his phone.

 "You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam stated. I looked over at Dean. That was gonna hit a nerve.

  "Don't say that!" Dean told Sam. "He's not dead, he's..." He had no good answer.

  "He's what?" Sam questioned. "He's hiding, he's busy?" I looked over at Dean. He had promised me that they wouldn't fight.

  Dean saw my face. "Just, stop Sam." Dean finally found his phone. He pulled it out and flipped it open. "I don't believe it," Dean stated, a smile forming.

  "What is it?" I asked, walking over to him. He sat on the bed and showed me the phone

"It's a... a text message." He told Sam and I. "It's coordinates." 

  Sam and I shared a look. Clearly, it was Dad and he was okay. Dean got on the laptop to find where the coordinates would take us.

  "So, you think dad was texting us?" I asked Dean.

 "He's given us coordinates before," Dean stated, he looked at the screen. 

  "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean." Sam told him. I held back a laugh. 

  "This is good news," Dean looked over at us. "It's means he's okay... or alive"

   "Was there a number on the caller ID?" I asked him. 

 "It said unknown," Dean told us.

 "Where do the coordinates point?" Sam asked. 

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

 "Why is that interesting," I looked over his shoulder. He had a newspaper pulled up. 

 "I checked the local Rockford paper," He turned the screen so Sam could see as well. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out." Dean explained. I sat in the chair next to him and Sam sat on the bed. "Earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

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