"No, Dad was in California last we heard from him. We just thought if he comes to munitions, maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks," Sam sighs. "Just call us if you hear anything. Thanks."
"Caleb hasn't heard from him," Dean questions.
"Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim. What about the journal? Any leads in there."
"No. Same last time I looked. Nothing I can make out," Dean shakes his head, chuckling. "I love the guy, but I swear he writes like freaking Yoda."
"You know, maybe we should call the Feds, file a missing person," Sam suggests.
"He would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail," I point out when a phone starts ringing.
"I don't care anymore. After all that happened back in Kansas-- I mean, he should have been there. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and nothing," Sam says.
"I know. Where the hell is my phone," he mutters.
"You know, he could be dead for all we know," Sam says. I smack him in the back of the head, glaring at him.
"Don't say that. He's not dead. He's--"
"He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?" Dean finally finds his phone and looks at the message. He scoffs.
"I don't believe it."
"What?"
"It's a-- a text message. It's coordinates."
~ ~ ~
"You think Dad was texting us?"
"He's given us coordinates before."
"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean."
"Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay-- or alive," I say.
"Well, was there a number on the caller I.D.?"
"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 says. Sam and I look down at the computer. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. 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?"
"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see. Here," He says, finding the page. ""Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths"-- till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go." Sam scoffs, standing up
"This is a job. Dad wants us to work a job."
"Maybe we'll meet up with him, maybe he's there."
"Or maybe he's not. He could be sending us there by ourselves to hunt this thing."
"Who cares? If he wants us there, it's good enough for me."
"This doesn't strike you as weird-- the texting, the coordinates?"
"Sam. Dad's telling us to go somewhere. We're going." He walks into the bathroom, and I sigh, walking over to Sam.
"At least it's something to do. At least we can kill something evil and save some lives," I point out, taking his hands into mine. He chuckles.
"What do you think about it?"
"Yeah, it's weird, but honestly, what if he has a reason as to why he's been gone this whole time?"
"Like what?"
"I don't know but keep an open-mind," I sigh.
YOU ARE READING
One More Time
Fanfiction"Please," Sam says. I look up at him, our eyes meeting. "Just one more time, that's all we're asking for." "One more time," I say, glancing between them. "One more time," Dean nods. "Okay."
