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."
"Okay, I'm not following," Sam admitted.
"I agree, what does this have to do with us?" I questioned. Dean pulled out dad's journal and flipped through it.
"Dad earmarked the sam asylum in the journal," He found the page. It looked like it was from a newspaper. "Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths - till last week, at least, I think this is where he wants us to go." I heard Sam scoff. Dean and I watched him stand up and put his hands through his hair.
"This is a job," Sam realized. "Dad wants us to work a job."
"Maybe we'll meet up with him," Dean told us. "Maybe he's there."
That statement scared me a little. I mean, I did want to find dad, at least for Sam and Dean. I just never have thought through what might happen when we did. Sam broke me from my thought.
"Maybe he's not, he could be sending s there by ourselves," Sam suggested.
"Who cares," I spoke up. My brothers looked over at me. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me." I stood from the table.
"Cheyenne, this doesn't strike you as weird?" Sam asked, watching me walk over to pack my bag. "The texting, the coordinates?" Before I could argue, Dean spoke.
"Sam, dad's telling us to go somewhere, we're going," He stated. Sam was silent and didn't argue. We packed up quick and got on the road.
Dean wanted to talk to Walter Kelly's partner. We made a plan and headed to the local bar, where we were told to meet up with him. I went in first to find him.
"Hey, you're Daniel Gunderson, right, the cop?" I asked, walking up to the man.
"Yeah," he glanced up from his drink.
"I'm Elizabeth Rose with the Chicago Tribune." I explained, sitting across from him. "Do you mind if I ask a couple of questions about your partner." I pulled out a notepad and pen.
"Yeah, I do," he told me. "I'm just trying to have a beer here."
"It shouldn't take that long," I assured and gave him my best smile. "I just want to hear the story in your words."
"A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair, and now he' dead," he stated. "Are you gonna ambush me here." I shook my head.
"Sorry, but I need to know what happened." I explained. Before he could argue with me, a pair of hands grabbed me off my chair. He gripped me hard, but it was all part of the plan.
"Hey, lady, not to be rude, but how about you leave the poor guy alone." Sam told me. "The man's an officer, why don't you show him a little respect." I looked between Sam and Daniel, before heading outside. I saw Dean by the impala.
"Man, Sam has a good grip." I stated, rubbing my arm. Dean looked up.
"You good, Cheyenne?" He asked, concerned Sam had hurt me.
"I'm fine," I assured him, smiling. We preceded to wait for Sam to finish talking to the officer. We hopped he could something out of him. A while later, Sam came out.
"You grabbed Cheyenne pretty hard in there," Dean told him.
"I had to sell it didn't I," He turned to me. "You okay?" He asked rubbing my arm. Even though he was mad a Dean, he still was soft with me.
"Sammy, I'm fine," I told him. "Now, what did you get?"
"Walter Kelly was a good cop," Sam began to tell us. "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," Sam explained. "But it was mostly smooth sailing and they were even talking about having kids."
"Okay, so either Kelly had some crazy waiting to bust out or something else did it to him." I stated.
"Right," Sam agreed.
"What did Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" Dean asked.
"A lot." He stated.
The next morning, we made our way to the asylum.
"I still don't know why we want to go inside the place, that made cop go crazy." I commented and watched Dean jump over the gate.
"Stop complaining," Sam told. He helped my climb over that gate, and Dean made sure I didn't fall. Sam came over after me. We made our up the steps and into the building.
It was dirty and there was trash and old junk all over the floor. It was cold inside and this weird feeling came over me, like we shouldn't be there.
"So, apparently, the cops chased the kids here, into the south wing," Sam explained, as we walked in further.
"South wing huh" Dean commented, as we looked at the words. "Wait a second," he grabbed dad's journal again, turning to the article about the asylum. "1972, three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived." he read. "The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."
"Oh yeah, that sounds like just the place we should go," I mumbled under my breath. My brothers ignored my comment.
"So, whatever's going on, south wing seems like the heart of it," Sam stated.
"Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean questioned. I looked over at the doors of the south wing.
"It looks like the doors are usually chained up," I told the boys. "They could have been chained up for years."
"Yeah to keep people out," Dean commented. "Or to keep something in."
Sam walked up to the door and pushed in open. He looked back at us.
"We are not going in there," I stated.
A few minutes later, we were walking down the hall of the south wing. Dead held out his EMF machine. "I cannot believe you convinced me to go with you." I argued to them. "People have died here, you realize,"
"You can turn back anytime, Cheyenne," Dean told me, with a smirk. I turned my head around to look back into the hall. It was a bit dark and shadowy.
"Let's just move," I said, rolling my eyes. Dean chuckled.
"Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel," He teased to Sam.
"Dude, enough," Sam told him.
"I'm serious, you've got to be careful," Dean explained to him. "Ghosts are attracted to that E.S.P thing you got."
"I told you it's not E.S.P., I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams." Sam tried explaining to him again.
"Boys, that's enough," I stated, walking in between them.
"Yeah whatever," Dean sighed. "Don't ask, don't tell."
"Are you getting any reading on that thing or not," I asked, tapping the machine in Dean's hand.
"Nope, but that doesn't mean nobody's home," Dean told me.
"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," I knew what he was saying.
"The freaks come out at night," Dean stated. "Hey, Sam, who do you thinks a hotter psychic -- Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?" I rolled my eyes. I was over this joking, and it wasn't even towards me. Sam slapped Dean on the shoulder and the he laughed.
We made our way into a room, full of old machine and things at the asylum. There were metal chairs with handcuffs on them and tables full of tools.
"Man, electroshock, lobotomies," Dean looked around the room. "They did some twisted stuff to these people." He smiled. "Kind of like my man Jack in a "Cuckoo's Nest,"."
"No wonder there are angry spirits killing people," I walked around, ignoring his comment.
Dean looked upset when no one laughed at his joke. "So, what do you think?" he asked us. "Ghosts are possessing people?"
"Maybe," Sam stated. "Maybe it's more like Amityville or the smurl haunting."
"You mean, spirits driving people insane," I asked. "Kind of like Jack in "The Shining."." I looked over at Dean for approval. He smiled at me and laughed. I turned to Sam. "Sorry, I had to too."
"Dean, Cheyenne, when are we gonna talk about it," Sam stated. I looked over at him confused.
"Talk about what?" Dean asked.
"About the fact that dad's not here." Sam told us.
"Oh, uh, let's see," I pretended to think. "Never."
"I'm being serious," Sam argued.
"So am I," I looked over at him. "He sent us here, so he obviously wants us here." Dean watched as we argued. "We'll just have to pick up the search later."
"It doesn't matter what he wants," Sam argued.
"See, that attitude right there, that is why Dean always got the extra cookie," I tried to lighten the mood.
"Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him." Sam argued. Dean walked up behind me. "We deserve some answers, this is our family."
"I understand that, Sam," Dean spoke up. "But he's given us an order."
"So what, we've got to always follow dad's orders?" Sam questioned.
"Of course we do," Dean stated.
"Okay, that's enough, please," I begged my brothers. We need to stop fighting and figure out what was going on with this case. We turned back to looking around the room.
Dean reached over and picked something up. I looked over at it, and saw it was a plaque of some sort. I made my way to Dean.
"Sanford Ellicott," I read quietly.
"You know what we got to do," Dean turned to face Sam, as did I. "We've got to find out more about the south wing, see if something happened here." He shoved the plaque into Sam's hands and made his way down the hall. I gave Sam a worried look, before following Dean down the hall and out the building.