Girl!Sam - Season 1 Episode 10 Asylum
Part 2:
Dean gave Sam a boost over the chain link fence surrounding the asylum. She waited for him as he climbed over before venturing into the old building.
Sam pointed to the double doors on the right. “So apparently, the cops chased the kids here--into the south wing.”
“The south wing, huh? Wait a second.” Dean took out his dad’s journal and flipped through it until he found the page he was looking for. He began reading. “In 1972, three kids broke into the south wing. Only one survived. The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lightin’ up the place.”
“So, whatever’s goin’ on, south wing seems like the heart of it.” Sam deducted.
“Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren’t there a ton more deaths?” Dean pointed out.
Sam noticed the cut chains on the door. “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could have been chained up for years.”
“Yeah, to keep people out--or to keep somethin’ in.”
Sam went to the door and it swung open easily. A few minutes later, the two of them were walking the halls of the south wing.
Dean brought out his EMF detector. “Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.”
“Shut up.”
Dean chuckled. “No, I’m serious, you’ve gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you’ve got goin’ on.”
“I told you, it’s not ESP. I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams.”
“Yeah, whatever. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“You gettin’ a reading on that thing or not?”
“Nope. Of course, it doesn’t mean nobody’s home.”
“Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day.”
“And the freaks come out at night.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Sam, who do you think is the better psychic--Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam punched him in the arm as he laughed excessively at his own joke.
“Well, you know…they both have supportive husbands and all I have is you.” She teased.
Dean let that comment slide before Sam realized what she’d said. The last thing he wanted was her thoughts turning to Jesse when they were on a job.
They entered another room in the south wing. On several tables around the room, there were jars of preserved body parts along with several other ‘tools’ from when the asylum was in use.
“Man. Electroshock, lobotomies--they did some twisted stuff to these people. Kind of like my man, Jack in Cuckoo’s Nest.” Dean grinned wickedly at his Jack Nicholson impersonation, but Sam rolled her eyes. His smile faded. “So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?”
“Maybe.” Sam considered. “Or maybe it’s more like Amityville or the Smurl Haunting.”
“Yeah, spirits drivin’ ‘em insane. Kind of like my man Jack in The Shining.”
“Dean…when are we gonna talk about it?”
He had dodged the bullet named Jesse, but wasn’t so lucky when it came to the one named Dad. Dean feigned ignorance. “Talk about what?”
Sam was having none of it. “About the fact that Dad’s not here.”
“Oh, uh, let’s see, never.”
“I’m being serious, Dean.”
“So am I, Sammi. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We’ll just have to pick up the search later.”
Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Dean’s nonchalant act made Sam’s temper flare. “It doesn’t matter what he wants!” she exclaimed.
“See, that attitude right there? That is why I always got the extra cookie.” Dean responded coolly.
“Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we’re talkin’ about.” Sam knew Dean was probably the last person she should be saying that to, but she couldn’t stop herself. Finding Dad should be their top priority. Screw the little mission he’d supposedly sent them on.
Dean clenched his jaw and resisted the impulse to raise his voice. “I understand that, Sam. But he’s given us an order.”
Sam’s frustration with her brother’s steadfast loyalty to their father increased. “So, what? We’ve got to always follow Dad’s orders?”
“Of course we do.”
Sam shot him an annoyed look, but decided to let the conversation drop, and they continued looking around. She would force the issue later when they didn’t have to focus on the job at hand.
Dean picked up an old metal plaque that read, Chief of Staff. Sanford Ellicott, M.D. “Sanford Ellicott. You know what we’ve got to do? We’ve gotta find out more about the south wing, and see if somethin’ happened here.” He handed the plaque to Sam and walked out before she could bring up Dad’s absence again.
***************************************
Sam sat in the waiting room of a psychiatrist office at Creekview Medical Center. Dr. James Ellicott walked out with a file in hand. “Samantha Winchester?”
Sam smiled as she stood. “That’s me.”
Dr. Ellicott held the door as he ushered her into his office. “Come on in.”
Sam took a seat on the plush leather sofa in the middle of the room. “Thanks again for seeing me last minute.” On Ellicott’s desk, she noticed a picture of Ellicott as a child with an older man she knew to be his father. A plaque on the wall read, Presented to Dr. James Ellicott for 15 Years of Service to the Rockford Chamber of Commerce. “Dr. Ellicott…Ellicott, that name--wasn’t there a Dr. Sanford Ellicott? Yeah, he was a chief psychiatrist somewhere.”
“My father was Chief of Staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?”
“Uh, well, I’m sort of a local history buff.” Sam shifted in her seat and leaned forward slightly. “Hey, wasn’t there, uh, an incident or somethin’ in the hospital, I guess, in the south wing, right?”
“We’re on your dollar, Samantha. We’re here to talk about you.”
“Oh, okay, yeah, yeah, sure.” She leaned back in her chair and tried to act casual. “And you can call me Sam.”
“So. How’re things, Sam?” The doctor asked.
“Uh…things are good, Doctor.”
“Good. What’ve you been doing?”
“Uh…not much. I’ve just been on a road trip with my brother.”
“Was that fun?”
After a short awkward pause, Sam answered. “Loads. Uh...you know, we met a lot of…interesting people. Did a lot of, uh…a lot of interesting things.” She tried to steer the conversation back to the real reason she was there-to get firsthand information on the old asylum. “Uh…you know, what was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I forget-”
“Look, if you’re a local history buff, then you know all about the Roosevelt Riot.”
“The riot? No, I know, I was just curious-”
The doctor cut off Sam’s backpedaling. “Sam. Let’s cut the bull, shall we? You’re avoiding the subject.”
“What subject?” She had honestly forgotten what the subject was supposed to be.
“You. Now, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you all about the Roosevelt Riot if you tell me something honest about yourself. Like, uh…this brother you’re road-tripping with…how do you feel about him?”
Sam raised her eyebrows. Now that was a loaded question! “Dean? He’s my brother. I love him.” She stated simply, as if it was a no-brainer. “Brother/Sister kinda love.” She added quickly. “Not weird, banjo-playin’-hill-people kinda love.” Sam grimaced. People had to stop mistaking them for a couple. It was starting to mess with her head too.
Dr. Ellicott suppressed a laugh. “Of course. How do you two get along? Being alone in a car for long stretches of time can cause strain on any relationship.”
“I don’t know, we get along pretty well I guess.” Sam shrugged. “Unless you count all the times I want to strangle him.” She took a long pause and the doctor began to ask another question to urge her along, but suddenly words began pouring out of her as if a dam had burst. “He’s just so irritating! He has to drive all the time. And he thinks he’s always right just because he’s ‘older’. He’s overprotective and bossy. And he turns up the collar of his jackets. I mean, who does that besides the Fonz or the cast of Grease?!” She barely paused to breathe before continuing on. “And he always does exactly what Dad wants. Dad says jump…Dean asks how high. He cares more about Dad’s approval than anything else.”
Sam finally stopped herself. She was flushed and embarrassed that she said so much. Dr. Ellicott smiled kindly. “It sounds like you may have some issues with you father as well as your brother. Maybe we should schedule another visit to discuss your relationship with your father.”
Sam clenched her jaw to keep from revealing anymore family dysfunction. “Okay, but only if you tell me about the Roosevelt Riot.”
True to his word, the doctor told her everything she didn’t want to know.
************************
Dean had been waiting outside for Sam for almost an hour. When she finally emerged, he rushed up to her impatiently. “Sam, you were in there forever. What the hell were you talkin’ about?”
Sam shrugged. “Just the hospital, you know.” She wasn’t about to admit she had probably said too much to the doctor.
“And?”
“And the south wing? That’s where they housed the real hard cases--the psychotics, the criminally insane.”
“Sounds cozy.” Dean deadpanned.
“Yeah, and one night in ’64, they rioted--attacked staff, attacked each other.”
“So, what, the patients took over the asylum?” he asked.
“Apparently.”
“Any deaths?”
“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory.” Sam quelled a shudder. “Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our Chief of Staff, Ellicott.”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘never recovered’?”
“Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have…stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”
“Oh, that’s grim.”
“Yeah. So, they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good.”
“All right, so, to sum it up, we’ve got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of un-recovered bodies.”
“Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam surmised.
“Oh, good times. Let’s check out the hospital tonight.”
next part
Dean gave Sam a boost over the chain link fence surrounding the asylum. She waited for him as he climbed over before venturing into the old building.
Sam pointed to the double doors on the right. “So apparently, the cops chased the kids here--into the south wing.”
“The south wing, huh? Wait a second.” Dean took out his dad’s journal and flipped through it until he found the page he was looking for. He began reading. “In 1972, three kids broke into the south wing. Only one survived. The way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lightin’ up the place.”
“So, whatever’s goin’ on, south wing seems like the heart of it.” Sam deducted.
“Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren’t there a ton more deaths?” Dean pointed out.
Sam noticed the cut chains on the door. “Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could have been chained up for years.”
“Yeah, to keep people out--or to keep somethin’ in.”
Sam went to the door and it swung open easily. A few minutes later, the two of them were walking the halls of the south wing.
Dean brought out his EMF detector. “Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.”
“Shut up.”
Dean chuckled. “No, I’m serious, you’ve gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you’ve got goin’ on.”
“I told you, it’s not ESP. I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams.”
“Yeah, whatever. Don’t ask, don’t tell.”
“You gettin’ a reading on that thing or not?”
“Nope. Of course, it doesn’t mean nobody’s home.”
“Spirits can appear during certain hours of the day.”
“And the freaks come out at night.”
“Yeah.”
“Hey, Sam, who do you think is the better psychic--Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?” Sam punched him in the arm as he laughed excessively at his own joke.
“Well, you know…they both have supportive husbands and all I have is you.” She teased.
Dean let that comment slide before Sam realized what she’d said. The last thing he wanted was her thoughts turning to Jesse when they were on a job.
They entered another room in the south wing. On several tables around the room, there were jars of preserved body parts along with several other ‘tools’ from when the asylum was in use.
“Man. Electroshock, lobotomies--they did some twisted stuff to these people. Kind of like my man, Jack in Cuckoo’s Nest.” Dean grinned wickedly at his Jack Nicholson impersonation, but Sam rolled her eyes. His smile faded. “So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?”
“Maybe.” Sam considered. “Or maybe it’s more like Amityville or the Smurl Haunting.”
“Yeah, spirits drivin’ ‘em insane. Kind of like my man Jack in The Shining.”
“Dean…when are we gonna talk about it?”
He had dodged the bullet named Jesse, but wasn’t so lucky when it came to the one named Dad. Dean feigned ignorance. “Talk about what?”
Sam was having none of it. “About the fact that Dad’s not here.”
“Oh, uh, let’s see, never.”
“I’m being serious, Dean.”
“So am I, Sammi. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We’ll just have to pick up the search later.”
Despite her best efforts to the contrary, Dean’s nonchalant act made Sam’s temper flare. “It doesn’t matter what he wants!” she exclaimed.
“See, that attitude right there? That is why I always got the extra cookie.” Dean responded coolly.
“Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we’re talkin’ about.” Sam knew Dean was probably the last person she should be saying that to, but she couldn’t stop herself. Finding Dad should be their top priority. Screw the little mission he’d supposedly sent them on.
Dean clenched his jaw and resisted the impulse to raise his voice. “I understand that, Sam. But he’s given us an order.”
Sam’s frustration with her brother’s steadfast loyalty to their father increased. “So, what? We’ve got to always follow Dad’s orders?”
“Of course we do.”
Sam shot him an annoyed look, but decided to let the conversation drop, and they continued looking around. She would force the issue later when they didn’t have to focus on the job at hand.
Dean picked up an old metal plaque that read, Chief of Staff. Sanford Ellicott, M.D. “Sanford Ellicott. You know what we’ve got to do? We’ve gotta find out more about the south wing, and see if somethin’ happened here.” He handed the plaque to Sam and walked out before she could bring up Dad’s absence again.
***************************************
Sam sat in the waiting room of a psychiatrist office at Creekview Medical Center. Dr. James Ellicott walked out with a file in hand. “Samantha Winchester?”
Sam smiled as she stood. “That’s me.”
Dr. Ellicott held the door as he ushered her into his office. “Come on in.”
Sam took a seat on the plush leather sofa in the middle of the room. “Thanks again for seeing me last minute.” On Ellicott’s desk, she noticed a picture of Ellicott as a child with an older man she knew to be his father. A plaque on the wall read, Presented to Dr. James Ellicott for 15 Years of Service to the Rockford Chamber of Commerce. “Dr. Ellicott…Ellicott, that name--wasn’t there a Dr. Sanford Ellicott? Yeah, he was a chief psychiatrist somewhere.”
“My father was Chief of Staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?”
“Uh, well, I’m sort of a local history buff.” Sam shifted in her seat and leaned forward slightly. “Hey, wasn’t there, uh, an incident or somethin’ in the hospital, I guess, in the south wing, right?”
“We’re on your dollar, Samantha. We’re here to talk about you.”
“Oh, okay, yeah, yeah, sure.” She leaned back in her chair and tried to act casual. “And you can call me Sam.”
“So. How’re things, Sam?” The doctor asked.
“Uh…things are good, Doctor.”
“Good. What’ve you been doing?”
“Uh…not much. I’ve just been on a road trip with my brother.”
“Was that fun?”
After a short awkward pause, Sam answered. “Loads. Uh...you know, we met a lot of…interesting people. Did a lot of, uh…a lot of interesting things.” She tried to steer the conversation back to the real reason she was there-to get firsthand information on the old asylum. “Uh…you know, what was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I forget-”
“Look, if you’re a local history buff, then you know all about the Roosevelt Riot.”
“The riot? No, I know, I was just curious-”
The doctor cut off Sam’s backpedaling. “Sam. Let’s cut the bull, shall we? You’re avoiding the subject.”
“What subject?” She had honestly forgotten what the subject was supposed to be.
“You. Now, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you all about the Roosevelt Riot if you tell me something honest about yourself. Like, uh…this brother you’re road-tripping with…how do you feel about him?”
Sam raised her eyebrows. Now that was a loaded question! “Dean? He’s my brother. I love him.” She stated simply, as if it was a no-brainer. “Brother/Sister kinda love.” She added quickly. “Not weird, banjo-playin’-hill-people kinda love.” Sam grimaced. People had to stop mistaking them for a couple. It was starting to mess with her head too.
Dr. Ellicott suppressed a laugh. “Of course. How do you two get along? Being alone in a car for long stretches of time can cause strain on any relationship.”
“I don’t know, we get along pretty well I guess.” Sam shrugged. “Unless you count all the times I want to strangle him.” She took a long pause and the doctor began to ask another question to urge her along, but suddenly words began pouring out of her as if a dam had burst. “He’s just so irritating! He has to drive all the time. And he thinks he’s always right just because he’s ‘older’. He’s overprotective and bossy. And he turns up the collar of his jackets. I mean, who does that besides the Fonz or the cast of Grease?!” She barely paused to breathe before continuing on. “And he always does exactly what Dad wants. Dad says jump…Dean asks how high. He cares more about Dad’s approval than anything else.”
Sam finally stopped herself. She was flushed and embarrassed that she said so much. Dr. Ellicott smiled kindly. “It sounds like you may have some issues with you father as well as your brother. Maybe we should schedule another visit to discuss your relationship with your father.”
Sam clenched her jaw to keep from revealing anymore family dysfunction. “Okay, but only if you tell me about the Roosevelt Riot.”
True to his word, the doctor told her everything she didn’t want to know.
************************
Dean had been waiting outside for Sam for almost an hour. When she finally emerged, he rushed up to her impatiently. “Sam, you were in there forever. What the hell were you talkin’ about?”
Sam shrugged. “Just the hospital, you know.” She wasn’t about to admit she had probably said too much to the doctor.
“And?”
“And the south wing? That’s where they housed the real hard cases--the psychotics, the criminally insane.”
“Sounds cozy.” Dean deadpanned.
“Yeah, and one night in ’64, they rioted--attacked staff, attacked each other.”
“So, what, the patients took over the asylum?” he asked.
“Apparently.”
“Any deaths?”
“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory.” Sam quelled a shudder. “Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our Chief of Staff, Ellicott.”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘never recovered’?”
“Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have…stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”
“Oh, that’s grim.”
“Yeah. So, they transferred all the surviving patients and shut down the hospital for good.”
“All right, so, to sum it up, we’ve got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of un-recovered bodies.”
“Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam surmised.
“Oh, good times. Let’s check out the hospital tonight.”
next part