Little Winchester: Book One (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Asylum

Sam finally decided to call Caleb almost two months into our search. "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... Thanks," Sam hung up the phone with a sigh before tossing the phone aside on the bed. I was reading through the book I made Dean get for me, 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'. "Caleb hasn't heard from him?" Dean asked as he flipped through Dad's journal. "Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Anything leads in there?" Sam asked as he glanced at the book. "No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda," Dean told us as he flipped to another page. "You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person’s," Sam suggested as he glanced at his phone. Dean looked up from the book, "We've talked about this. Dad'd be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." Even I knew that, and I didn't even have a phone. "I don't care anymore," Sam told us as he stared at the wall as Dean's phone rang. I grabbed it from the inside pocket of Dean's jacket and extended my arm to give it to him as he got up. "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 was starting to raise his voice, not by much though. "I know!" Dean snapped, getting agitated. "You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam told him as he glanced at the journal again. "Don't say that!" Dean and I both snapped at him. "He's not dead! He's – he's..." Dean tried to extend on our point, but he didn't really know anything. I kept a glare on Sam, "He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?" Sam asked as Dean finally opened his phone, temporarily ending the conversation. "Huh. I don't believe it," Dean scoffed as he said it. "What?" Sam asked as Dean sat down on the bed, I put my bookmark into my book. "It's, uh...It's a text message. It's coordinates," Dean looked at Sam after staring at the phone for a while. Dean got up and sat at the small table, typing on Sam's laptop. "You think Dad was texting us?" Sam asked eagerly, pacing around the room. I picked my book back up, "He's given us coordinates before," Dean told him confidently. "The man can barely work a toaster, Dean," Sam snapped. "Sam, it's good news! It means he's okay, or alive at least." Why couldn't they stop arguing? They always argued... "Well, was there a number on the caller ID?" Sam asked impatiently. Dean looked back at the laptop as he said, "Nah, it said 'unknown'." Sam waved an arm, "Well, where do the coordinates point?" Dean finished typing and started scrolling, "That's the interesting part. Rockford, Illinois," he didn't look at Sam as he read. "Ok, and that's interesting how?" Sam asked, still sounding impatient. "I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this," Dean angled the laptop towards Sam. "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 explained before Sam even started reading. I tried to focus on my book, "Okay, I'm not following. What has this have to do with us?" Sam asked, still irritated. "Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let’s see..." Dean flipped through a few 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," Sam ran a hand through his hair. "Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?" Dean offered. "Maybe he's not? I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing," Sam countered, his agitation returned. "Who cares! If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!" Dean raised his voice, having had enough of Sam's crap. I closed my book around my finger and got up, moving to the bathroom. I'd had enough of this for one day. "This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?" Sam argued as I locked the door. "Sam! Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'," Dean used his 'final' tone. I only heard a sigh in response. I heard heavy steps walk up to the door, "Chris?" it was Dean. "Chris come talk to me," Dean requested, it didn't sound like one. I hesitantly got up, leaving my book on the counter before I walked to the door, slowly unlocking it. Dean was leaning against the doorframe with Sam sitting on the bed behind him. "C'mere short stack," Dean's voice was soft. I took another step and hugged his leg. Dean picked me up, "Tell me what's wrong," Dean told me as he sat down on the bed opposite of Sam. "I don't like you and Sam fighting," I told him quietly, he gave a sigh, "C'mere." I climbed into his lap and hugged his chest, he hugged me back. Sam sighed from across the room and got up to join a few seconds later. Why couldn't it always be like this?