"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." Sam spoke into the receiver on his phone. It had been a couple of days since we were in Lawrence and right now, we were back to tracking John in anyway we could. I scrolled through the FBI databases and morgue records. Dean was looking through his dad's journal on the bed. Sam hung up the phone and sighed.

"Caleb hasn't heard  from him?" Dean asked Sam, making me look up from the computer.

"Nope. And neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Any leads there?" Sam asked and Dean sighed.

"No, same as the last time I looked. Nothing I can make out... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda." Dean joked.

"You know, maybe we should call the Feds." Sam suggested. "File a missing persons." Dean and I gave him a look.

"You wanna deal with John when he find out you put Feds on his ass?" I hum, closing the laptop.

Sam didn't look like he cared one bit. "I don't care anymore." Dean's phone went off in my pocket. He began to search for it as I pulled out his phone from my pocket. "After all that's happened in Kansas. I mean... he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and... nothing." Sam noted.

"I know." Dean replied, still looking for his phone. I snorted and tossed it at him. I started laughing as it hit his head with a dull thunk.

"Wow, sounds empty up in there." I chortle.

"Oh, you're dead meat." He growled, looking at the message I opened.

"It's Rockford, Illinois." I say to him. He gives me an appalled look before Sam pulled the laptop back to him. He searched up anything weird in Rockford.

"In the local paper, this cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife and 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." Sam reads out from the laptop.

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see...." Dean replied, turning the pages, giving me one last look before speaking again. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths- till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go." Sam snorted and turned around.

"This is a job.... Dad wants us to work a job." Sam said, disappointed.

"Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?" Dean suggested, causing Sam to scoff again.

"Maybe he's not. I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing.
 Sam added and I sighed, standing up and walking between them before another word could be said.

"Easy, boys. We should check this place out regardless if he's there or not. Tough shit. This needs our attention." I say sternly, deflating the situation. "Now, you both start packing. And I don't what to hear another word about if John is there or not." Sam and Dean shut their mouths quickly, deciding on the former.

"I think I kinda like this demanding part of you." Dean calls out as I start packing my bag.

"Only you would." Sam and I comment at the same time.

~*****~

I sat outside the next night in front of a bar in Rockford, waiting for Sam to throw Dean out so he could have an opportunity to speak to the suspects partner. I thought I'd be perfect for this gig, but unfortunately, I had been in the spotlight once I stepped in. I was the prettiest hag in the area so far. I covered my lips in an attempt to keep quiet as Dean is shunted out of the front door and marched towards me.

"How's it feel?" I call out as he looked over at me. He raised an eyebrow. "You know, being kicked out of a bar."

"Like I'm a friggin' celebrity." Dean answered, rolling his shoulder around. "Man, he pushed kinda hard."

"Maybe he had to sell it?" I comment, pulling two beers out of the Impala. "Want a beer?"

He took it from me and popped off the top, taking a long drink as we sat side by side on the hood. We were quiet, just gazing at the stars above. We both laid back on the Impala, enjoying the silence. I looked over at Dean, smiling when I catch him staring. "Do I got something on me?" I question, a teasing tone in my voice.

Dean snorted a bit before answering. "Nah." He hummed, laying his head on his arm behind his head. "Remember, when we were teens? Dad was drinking at this bar and we were waiting in the car. We managed to snag a coupla beers?" He asked. I snorted a little before thinking back. Of course I'd remember that...

The stars were shining above as Dean and I chilled in the Impala, waiting for John to take us to the motel for some Z's. Sammy had stayed back with Pastor Jim, so it was seriously awkward being with Dean alone. I yawned a little as Dean stretched out besides me. "How long you think he'll be in there?" I question, looking back at him.

"No idea." He hummed back, reaching into the cooler we had with us and pulled out two beers. He handed it over and I scrunched up my nose. I definitely did not like beer. I grabbed it and popped off the lid, taking a deep sip.

"Ew." I groan, leaning back into the seat. "I don't get why you and John like these. It's seriously gross."

Dean just laughed as I kept sipping. I had learned that it would be rude to open a beer and not finish it. "Wanna pass the time?" I was about to ask how, but Dean just kissed me out no where. We toppled back into the seats, a soft moan leaving my lips as his hips dug into mine. He pulled away and tugged off the shirt he'd been wearing. It felt like my cheeks had caught on fire. "Like that?" He hummed, gripping the skin underneath my shirt. A teasing smile lifted onto his lips as he tugged at my shirt. I was a little reluctant, but I pulled my shirt off, wrapping my arms around my chest, embarrassed by my exposed skin. Dean's teeth dug into my collarbone, and I was crooning in delight...

I cleared my throat as I finished my beer. "Uh, yeah, Dean." I try and hide that smile I had. I remember that day so vividly, and the fact that I was still learning who I was sexually, I really like what we did.

"Man, you're hot." He commented, drinking the rest of his beer as he kept thinking about it. "Too bad we stopped before I could-"

"Shut it!" I snap, feeling my cheeks grow hotter by the second. Sam exited the bar at that time, stopping the conversation we were having. "It's about damn time!"

"Shoved me kind of hard there, buddy boy." Dean added as Sam opened his arms in a weird gesture.

"Had to sell it, didn't I? It's a method of acting." He replied.

"Told you." I tell Dean, dodging the arm slap he threw. "So, what'd you find out?"

"So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, had a bright future ahead of him." Sam informed us as Dean stood on his feet.

"What about at home?" Dean questioned.

"He and his wide had a few fights, like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids." Sam replied.

"Alright, so either Kelly had some deep seated crazy waiting to burst out, or something else did it to him." Dean pointed out and Sam nodded. "What'd Gunderson tell you about the Asylum?"

"A lot." Sam replied, a smirk washing over his face.

~*****~

The next day, we went to the asylum and jumped the high fence to get inside. We opened the doors and I immediately felt like we were in a crappy horror movie. Spirits were definitely roaming the halls, the energies in this place were all over. "So apparently, the cops chased the kids here... into the south wing." Sam mentioned.

"South wing, huh? Wait a second...." Dean flipped through his Dad's journal. "1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting the place up." Dean informed us.

"So, whatever is going on, the south wing seems to be the heart of it." Sam said.

"Yeah, but these kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" Dean asked. Sam and I looked at a chained door.

"Looks like the doors are usually chained." Sam said. "Could be chained for years."

"Yeah, to keep people out." Dean commented.

"Or keep something in." I mutter, looking around. I pulled at the doors, smiling to myself when the chains easily unravel.

"Didn't you hear a thing about what we said about the south wing?" Sam asked me, gazing at me suspiciously.

"When have I ever been afraid of anything like this?" I ask, smirking at Sam and Dean. I strode in first, pulling out my flashlight. Dean pulled out his EMF meter.

"Let me know if you see any dead people, Joel," Dean muttered to Sam.

"Dude, enough." Sam groaned, causing Dean and I to crack up.

"I'm serious," Dean continued with a smirk. "You gotta be careful, alright. Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you have."

"I told you, it's not ESP. I just have strange vibes, sometimes. Weird dreams." Sam argued.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."

"You got any reading on that thing, or not?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"He's not going to." I hum, looking upwards to the ceiling. "Most spirits are only active during certain hours of the day."

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night." Dean added.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

We reached a room full of medical equipment and a jar of..... what I hope is just expired medical stuff. I move stuff around on a desk, picking up a name plate. Sanford Ellicott. I hear a whistle behind me.

"Man, Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in the Cuckoo's nest." Dean commented. Sam and I just glared at him. He cleared his throat. "So. What do you think? Ghost's possessing people?"

"Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl haunting." Sam suggested and I nodded.

"Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in the Shining." Dean tried joking again. We both gave him another glare.

"Dean. When are we going to talk about it?" Sam questions and I prop myself onto the desk, sighing gently. "About the fact that Dad's not here."

"Oh. I see. How bout.... never." Dean said. Sam gave him his best stank face.

"I'm being serious, man. He sent us here...." Sam began but was interrupted by Dean.

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

"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam input.

"See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie." Dean revealed.

"Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family were talking about."

"I understand that, Sam." Dean replied, his voice raising a bit. "But he's given us an order!"

"So what? We always gotta follow Dad's orders?" Sam asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.

"Of course we do." Dean said in a final tone and turned away. Sam rolled his eyes and walked the opposite way across the room. Dean finally looked to me. "What you got there?" I looked down at my hands nervously. I always hated when they fought like this.

"Sanford Ellicot." I recite, looking back up at him. "It's a start."