Girl!Sam Series - Season 1 Episode 10: Asylum
And finally, the much-promised Asylum. There even be some pics with this one ;)
Be forewarned that I skipped over some parts and used bullets to remind the reader of what happened in canon. Feel free to skip over any bulleted parts, as they don't affect the story at all.
Title: Girl!Sam series Season 1 Episode 10 (Asylum)
Author: Jen aka
jayneslilsis
Pairs: None
Characters: Dean & Sammi
Spoilers: Season1 Ep 10
Disclaimer: I own nothing...no infringement intended :)
Part 1:
Teaser:
Dean sat on the bed, leafing through his father’s journal as he listened to Sam’s side of the phone conversation. “No, Dad was in California last we heard from him.… We just thought that he comes to you for munitions-maybe you’ve seen him in the last few weeks.… Just call us if you hear anything.… Thanks.” She pressed the end button in frustration.
“Caleb hasn’t heard from him?” Dean gathered.
“Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?”
“No. Same as last time I looked. Nothin’ I can make out.” He chuckled. “I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin’ Yoda.”
“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing persons.”
“We talked about this. Dad’d be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail.”
“I don’t care anymore.” Dean’s cell phone began ringing, and he got up to look for it, leaving Sam sitting on the bed, exasperated with the situation. “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.”
“I know. Where the hell is my cell phone?”
“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”
“Don’t say that.” Dean snapped. “He’s not dead. He’s…he’s…”
“He’s what? He’s hiding? He’s busy?”
Dean refused to face the possibility, no matter how many times his sister brought it up. But then, the tiniest part of him wanted to believe that the only reason his father hadn’t even called when they were in Lawrence, was because he physically couldn’t. He finally found his phone and when he did, he was shocked by what he saw on the screen. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Sam asked in concern.
“It’s a text message. It’s coordinates.”
Dean snatched up the laptop and entered the coordinates to find the location.
Sam watched over his shoulder, not needing him to explain his excitement, but wary just the same. “You think Dad was texting us?”
“He’s given us coordinates before.”
“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.” She was trying to let her brother know that it may not have actually been Dad who had sent the message.
“Sam, this is good news. It means he’s okay. Or alive, at least.”
She let it go. There was no need starting another argument or snatching away his hope. “Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”
“No, it said ‘unknown’.”
“Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?”
“That’s the interesting part--Rockford, Illinois.”
“Okay, and that’s interesting how?”
“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turned the computer to Sam and brought up a picture of Walter Kelly. “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, 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.”
“Okay, I’m not following. What does this have to do with us?” She asked.
“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal.” He opened the journal and paging looking through it, eventually finding a newspaper clipping about the asylum. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths--‘til last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”
Sam stood up and began pacing as realization hit-relief mixed with resentment. Her father had sent the message. “This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.” Good to know some things never change, she thought sarcastically.
“I mean, maybe we’ll meet up with him, maybe he’s there.” Dean suggested, hope unashamedly shading his voice.
Sam hated for him to get his hopes up. He’d always been so blindly devoted to their father. In Dean’s eyes, the man did no wrong. “Maybe he’s not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing.” She warned.
“Who cares? If he wants us there, that’s good enough for me.”
“This doesn’t strike you as weird?” Sam asked. “The texting? The coordinates?” Dad was anything but tech-savvy.
“Sam, Dad’s tellin’ us to go somewhere--we’re going.”
Sam sighed as Dean left the room, effectively ending the discussion. She didn’t need to be psychic to know Dad wasn’t going to be in Rockford. She just hoped Dean wasn’t too disappointed when he didn’t show up.
**********************************
Dean walked into the local pub and approached Danny, who was sitting at the bar. “You’re Daniel Gunderson, right? You’re a cop?”
Danny looked up from his empty beer bottle. “Yeah.”
Dean sat down next to him. “Hey. I’m, uh, Nigel Tufnel, with The Chicago Tribune. You mind if I ask you a couple questions about your partner?”
“Yeah, I do. I’m just tryin’ to have a beer here.”
“It’s okay, it won’t take that long. I just wanna hear the story in your words.” Dean coaxed.
“A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he’s dead. You gonna ambush me here?” Danny asked bitterly.
Dean pushed a bit harder. “Sorry. But I need to know what happened.”
Sam slammed down her pool stick, gaining the men’s attention as she abandoned her practice game. “Hey, guy. How ‘bout leavin’ the nice man alone, huh?” She propped herself against the bar between Dean and Danny. “The man’s an officer. Why don’t you show some respect?”
Dean stared at her for a moment before getting up and walking away without another word.
Danny smiled as Sam slid onto Dean’s vacated barstool. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did. That guy’s a total jerk.” She looked at Dean over her shoulder and spoke loud enough that Dean could hear her as he walked out the front door. “Good looks don’t make up for being an ignorant jackass.” She turned back to Danny and gave him a warm smile. “Can I buy you a beer?”
Danny accepted the beer the bartender was already handing him. “Thanks.”
Sam smiled.
*********************************
About half an hour later, Sam exited the pub and joined Dean by the car. “Total jerk? Ignorant jackass?” He exclaimed.
Sam grinned. “I had to sell it, didn’t I? It’s called method acting.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“What’d you find out from Gunderson?”
“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. 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, like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”
“All right, so, either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or somethin’ else did it to him.” He reasoned.
“Right.” Sam agreed.
“What’d Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”
“A lot.”
next part
Be forewarned that I skipped over some parts and used bullets to remind the reader of what happened in canon. Feel free to skip over any bulleted parts, as they don't affect the story at all.
Title: Girl!Sam series Season 1 Episode 10 (Asylum)
Author: Jen aka
jayneslilsis
Pairs: None
Characters: Dean & Sammi
Spoilers: Season1 Ep 10
Disclaimer: I own nothing...no infringement intended :)
Part 1:
Teaser:
- Two cops investigated the report of kids at the old abandoned Roosevelt Asylum.
- The younger officer Walter separated from his partner Danny while looking for the kids.
- Danny was just running them off when Walter walked back outside, acting peculiarly.
- Walter’s nose suddenly began to bleed. He wiped the blood away and looked at it strangely.
- Walter entered the room while his wife was in bed, reading a book.
- He stood at the dresser with his back to her while he removed his police gear.
- She tried to apologize to him about an argument they’d had earlier
- Walter still hadn’t spoken to her. He looked down at the gun in his hand and spun around quickly, firing twice in quick succession. One shot for his wife and the other in his own mouth.
Dean sat on the bed, leafing through his father’s journal as he listened to Sam’s side of the phone conversation. “No, Dad was in California last we heard from him.… We just thought that he comes to you for munitions-maybe you’ve seen him in the last few weeks.… Just call us if you hear anything.… Thanks.” She pressed the end button in frustration.
“Caleb hasn’t heard from him?” Dean gathered.
“Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there?”
“No. Same as last time I looked. Nothin’ I can make out.” He chuckled. “I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin’ Yoda.”
“You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing persons.”
“We talked about this. Dad’d be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail.”
“I don’t care anymore.” Dean’s cell phone began ringing, and he got up to look for it, leaving Sam sitting on the bed, exasperated with the situation. “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.”
“I know. Where the hell is my cell phone?”
“You know, he could be dead for all we know.”
“Don’t say that.” Dean snapped. “He’s not dead. He’s…he’s…”
“He’s what? He’s hiding? He’s busy?”
Dean refused to face the possibility, no matter how many times his sister brought it up. But then, the tiniest part of him wanted to believe that the only reason his father hadn’t even called when they were in Lawrence, was because he physically couldn’t. He finally found his phone and when he did, he was shocked by what he saw on the screen. “I don’t believe it.”
“What?” Sam asked in concern.
“It’s a text message. It’s coordinates.”
Dean snatched up the laptop and entered the coordinates to find the location.
Sam watched over his shoulder, not needing him to explain his excitement, but wary just the same. “You think Dad was texting us?”
“He’s given us coordinates before.”
“The man can barely work a toaster, Dean.” She was trying to let her brother know that it may not have actually been Dad who had sent the message.
“Sam, this is good news. It means he’s okay. Or alive, at least.”
She let it go. There was no need starting another argument or snatching away his hope. “Well, was there a number on the caller ID?”
“No, it said ‘unknown’.”
“Okay, well, where do the coordinates point?”
“That’s the interesting part--Rockford, Illinois.”
“Okay, and that’s interesting how?”
“I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this.” He turned the computer to Sam and brought up a picture of Walter Kelly. “This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, 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.”
“Okay, I’m not following. What does this have to do with us?” She asked.
“Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal.” He opened the journal and paging looking through it, eventually finding a newspaper clipping about the asylum. “Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths--‘til last week, at least. I think this is where he wants us to go.”
Sam stood up and began pacing as realization hit-relief mixed with resentment. Her father had sent the message. “This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job.” Good to know some things never change, she thought sarcastically.
“I mean, maybe we’ll meet up with him, maybe he’s there.” Dean suggested, hope unashamedly shading his voice.
Sam hated for him to get his hopes up. He’d always been so blindly devoted to their father. In Dean’s eyes, the man did no wrong. “Maybe he’s not. I mean, he could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing.” She warned.
“Who cares? If he wants us there, that’s good enough for me.”
“This doesn’t strike you as weird?” Sam asked. “The texting? The coordinates?” Dad was anything but tech-savvy.
“Sam, Dad’s tellin’ us to go somewhere--we’re going.”
Sam sighed as Dean left the room, effectively ending the discussion. She didn’t need to be psychic to know Dad wasn’t going to be in Rockford. She just hoped Dean wasn’t too disappointed when he didn’t show up.
**********************************
Dean walked into the local pub and approached Danny, who was sitting at the bar. “You’re Daniel Gunderson, right? You’re a cop?”
Danny looked up from his empty beer bottle. “Yeah.”
Dean sat down next to him. “Hey. I’m, uh, Nigel Tufnel, with The Chicago Tribune. You mind if I ask you a couple questions about your partner?”
“Yeah, I do. I’m just tryin’ to have a beer here.”
“It’s okay, it won’t take that long. I just wanna hear the story in your words.” Dean coaxed.
“A week ago, my partner was sitting in that chair. Now he’s dead. You gonna ambush me here?” Danny asked bitterly.
Dean pushed a bit harder. “Sorry. But I need to know what happened.”
Sam slammed down her pool stick, gaining the men’s attention as she abandoned her practice game. “Hey, guy. How ‘bout leavin’ the nice man alone, huh?” She propped herself against the bar between Dean and Danny. “The man’s an officer. Why don’t you show some respect?”
Dean stared at her for a moment before getting up and walking away without another word.
Danny smiled as Sam slid onto Dean’s vacated barstool. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did. That guy’s a total jerk.” She looked at Dean over her shoulder and spoke loud enough that Dean could hear her as he walked out the front door. “Good looks don’t make up for being an ignorant jackass.” She turned back to Danny and gave him a warm smile. “Can I buy you a beer?”
Danny accepted the beer the bartender was already handing him. “Thanks.”
Sam smiled.
*********************************
About half an hour later, Sam exited the pub and joined Dean by the car. “Total jerk? Ignorant jackass?” He exclaimed.
Sam grinned. “I had to sell it, didn’t I? It’s called method acting.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind.”
“What’d you find out from Gunderson?”
“So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. 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, like everybody, but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids.”
“All right, so, either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or somethin’ else did it to him.” He reasoned.
“Right.” Sam agreed.
“What’d Gunderson tell you about the asylum?”
“A lot.”
next part