Purpose - Dean Winchester ¹

Asylum

Riley startled. Another nightmare. Her body was drenched in sweat, yet she was freezing. She sighed and sat up. Dean sat next to her on the bed, John's diary on his lap. He looked at her worriedly while Sam talked on the phone. Riley just gave him a small smile before shakily getting up to get some coffee. Dean looked after her before turning to Sam who had just hung up. "Caleb hasn't heard from him?" "Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim." Sam glanced at Riley, who was leaning against the table, then at Dean. "What about the journal? Any leads in there?" Dean shook his head. "No. Same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out." Dean laughed lightly. "I love the guy, but he writes like Yoda." Riley's shaking subsided and she slowly sat down in one of the chairs. "Maybe we should call the feds. File a missing persons report," Sam considered. "We talked about that. Dad would be pissed if we sent the feds after him." "I don't care. After everything that happened in Kansas..." Dean's cell phone briefly interrupted Sam. Dean walked to the nightstand next to the bed. "He should have been there," Sam continued. "You said so yourself. You tried to call him." "I know." Dean fumbled in his bag for his cell phone. "Where the hell is my phone?" "You know, he could be dead," Sam interjected. "Don't say that. He's not dead!" Dean yelled. "He's -- he's --" Dean struggled for words. "He's what? He's hiding? He's busy?" Riley rubbed her temples. The constant bickering between the two brothers was giving her a headache. Dean finally found his cell phone and stared at it in shock. Then he smiled slightly. "I don't believe this." "What?" Sam asked. Dean sat back down on the bed. "It's a - a text message. It's coordinates," he said with a meaningful look at Sam.

„Do you think dad sent us a text?" Sam asked, Dean now sitting next to Riley at the table, his laptop open in front of him. "He's given us coordinates before," Dean muttered. "He can barely work a toaster, Dean." Dean had had enough of Sam's negativity. "Sam, this is good news. It means he's okay. Or at least alive." "Was there a number on the caller I.D.?" Sam asked with outstretched arms. "No, it said unknown." "Where do the coordinates point to?" "That's the interesting part. Rockford. Illinois." "And what's so interesting about that?" Riley wanted to know as she drank her third cup of coffee. Her body felt drained, almost broken. "I looked in the local paper in Rockford. Take a look." He moved the computer so Riley and Sam could see it. Sam leaned over Riley's shoulder so he could read. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift and shoots his wife..." Dean began. The picture showed a young police officer. Sam sat down on Riley's other side. Dean continued: "...then he sticks the gun in his mouth and blows his brains out. Earlier that night, Kelly and his partner were called to a call at Roosevelt Asylum." "Okay, I'm not following. What does that have to do with us?" Sam asked. Dean nodded and opened John's journal. "Dad noted the same asylum in his journal." He flipped through it. "Let's take a look... Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings." He turned the journal so the other two could see. "Two deaths. At least until last week. I think he wants us to go there." Sam laughed exasperatedly, stood up, and threw his hands behind his head. "It's a job." He turned back to them. "Dad wants us to do a job." "Yeah, maybe we'll meet him." Sam wasn't convinced. "He could send us out there alone to hunt this thing down." "Who cares? If he wants us there, that's good enough for me." Dean stood up and closed the journal and laptop. "Riley?" Sam turned to her. She shrugged. "I'm going where Dean's going."