The Search for John Winchester

10) Asylum

Percy had never been one to wake up early. So when Dean's phone rang from within his duffel bag, Percy quickly went to go shut it up.

"I know!" Percy heard Dean snap.

"Where the Hades is your cellphone?" Percy muttered, annoyance flashing across his face.

"You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam said.

"John's not dead," Percy frowned, figuring they were talking about their father. "I asked Nico."

"He's what, then? He's hiding? He's busy?"

Percy found the cellphone and opened it, stiffening immediately.

"Huh," Percy said quietly. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Sam asked, and Dean walked over behind his boyfriend, his eyes widening as he took in the message.

"It's, uh.... It's a text message," Dean said. "It's coordinates."

***

Dean was typing on his laptop, Percy sitting beside him, watching.

"You think Dad was texting us?" Sam questioned.

"He's given us coordinates before," Dean shrugged.

"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean."

"Sam, it's good news!" Percy exclaimed. "It means he's okay."

"Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"Nah, it said 'unknown'. I think," Doubt floated across Percy's face for a moment. "That's what it said, right?" Dean nodded for his boyfriend.

"Well, where do the coordinates point?" Sam questioned.

"That's the interesting part," Dean stared at the screen. "Rockford, Illinois."

"Ok, and that's interesting how?"

"I checked the local Rockford paper," Dean turned the computer screen to Sam. "Take a look at this. This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, 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."

"Okay, I'm not following," Sam shook his head. "What does this have to do with us?"

"Dad bookmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see...." Dean flipped through the notebook until he found the right page. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths — till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

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

"Well, maybe we'll meet up with him?" Percy shrugged. "Maybe he's there?"

"Maybe he's not?" Sam looked annoyed. "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares!" Dean shouted. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"

"Sam!" Dean frowned. "Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're goin'."

Sam made a bitchface and sighed.

***

"You're Daniel Gundersom," Dean sat beside a cop, the one whose partner died, in a bar. "You're a cop, right?"

"Yeah," Gunderson sighed.

"Huh. I'm uh, Nigel Tufnel, The Chicago Tribune," Dean said. "Mind if I ask you a couple of questions, about your partner?"