(no subject)

[hopeitsworthit]

After receiving the set of co-ordinates in a text message, driving to Rockford, Illinois and asking around about the cop who shot his wife to death and then shot himself for no reason, they’re wandering around the Roosevelt Asylum (which they have been for about ten minutes now) looking for something, but they’re not sure what.

Dean has his EMF meter in hand as they move toward the South Wing.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel,” Dean says, concentrating on the meter.

“Dude, enough,” Sam says, annoyed.

Dean laughs it off. “No I’m serious, ya gotta be careful. Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”

“I told you,” he starts speaking over him. “It’s not ESP, I just have strange…vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah whatever.” Dean’s turn to talk over him. “Don’t ask don’t tell.”

Sam gives up. “You getting any reading on that thing or not?”

“Nope. Of course that doesn’t mean nobody’s home.”

“Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day,” Sam adds helpfully.

“The freaks come out at night,” Dean groans.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees lazily.

“Hey Sam, who do you think is a hotter psychic? Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt or you?”

Sam punches him in the shoulder and Dean laughs and they continue on.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

This asylum, Sam concludes very quickly, was a very very bad place to be, before it closed down. The lighting hardly helps -- dim sunlight fighting through dust will make anything look creepy -- but:

Organs in jars half-full of fluid. They look like they've gone rotten; how does that happen? Next to them, things that might be organs without jars of their own.

Chairs with locking metal cuffs; they look like they got a lot of use before the place shut down. Old syringes scattered around, with needles entirely too long to be necessary.

And, over there, a dead doll. That's almost more disturbing, for no reason Sam can pinpoint, so he tries to pretend it isn't there.

He still feels halfway like being sick anyway.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean walks around, looking at the electric chairs and filthy operating tables.

"Man. Electroshock, lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people." He pauses and then says, "Kind of like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest," in his best Jack Nicholson voice, his eyes wide, a grin on his face. A grin that goes away when Sammy completely ignores him. He continues looking around.

[gavemea_45]

"So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?"

"Maybe," Sam says, looking back at Dean. "Maybe it's more like, uh. Like Amityville. Or the Smurl haunting."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Ah, spirits drivin' 'em insane." Pause. "Kinda like me man Jack in The Shining." A smile, but no impersonation this time.

And still no response from Sammy.

[gavemea_45]

"Dean," Sam says, and he knows it's a bad idea but he's doing it anyway, "when are we gonna talk about it?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Talk about what?"

[gavemea_45]

"About the fact that Dad's not here."

[hopeitsworthit]

"Uh, let me think...never."

[gavemea_45]

Yeah, bad idea, and yet his mouth's still moving.

"I'm bein' serious, man."

[hopeitsworthit]

"So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll just have to pick up the search later."

[gavemea_45]

"It doesn't matter what he wants."

[hopeitsworthit]

"See, that attitude right there," a pregnant pause. "That's why I always get the extra cookie."

[gavemea_45]

Fuck you, Dean.

"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."

[hopeitsworthit]

"I understand that, Sam. But he's given us an order."

[gavemea_45]

"So what? We've gotta always follow Dad's orders?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Of course we do." He stares Sam down and when he sees Sam has decided to drop he walks over and examines one of the tables; a plaque is lying on it.

"Sanford Ellicot. You know what we gotta do, we gotta find out more about the South Wing. See if something happened here." He walks past Sam, angrily shoving the plaque into his hands as he does.