Visiting Smallville: 4b/21
“So apparently the cops chased the kids here - into the south wing.” Sam looked around the dark room.
“The south wing huh?” Dean grinned widely. “Wait a second.” he pulled John’s journal out from his jacket and looked through it, pausing slightly at the picture in Smallville. He chuckled at young Chloe before turning more pages, finally arriving on the pages dedicated to Roosevelt Asylum. “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 lighting up the place.”
Sam frowned. “So, whatever’s going on, south wing seems like it’s at the heart of it.”
“Yeah, but if kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren’t there more deaths?”
Dean smirked, making his way over to a chained door.
“Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could have been chained up for years.”
Dean shook his head, pulling at the chains and watching them come away from the door. “To keep people out.” he told Sam, before his expression darkened. “Or to keep something in.”
Sam nodded, as Dean pulled out the EMF from his pocket and pushed into the hallway. They walked slowly, Dean scanning the surroundings. Dean paused, turning to face Sam, his serious look suddenly turning into a teasing grin.
“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.”
Sam frowned. “Dude, enough.”
Dean chuckled. “No, I’m serious.” he schooled his mouth into a straight line. “You’ve got to be careful, alright? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you’ve got going.”
“I told you, it’s not ESP.” Sam exhaled, annoyed. “I just have strange vibes sometimes, weird dreams.”
“That led us to extremely weird places like Smallville.” Dean scowled. “Why an ex-hunter would choose to live there, I don’t know.”
“I don’t mind it.”
Dean looked back at him, with a snigger hiding something that sounded like ‘Chloe’ and Sam groaned.
“Dude, she’s fifteen and a freshman. At high school.” Dean continued to laugh, despite Sam’s protests. “You getting a reading on that thing?”
“Nope.” Dean shot one more laugh at him, before examing the corridor. “Of course, it doesn’t mean nobodies home.”
“Spirits can appear at certain hours of the day.” Sam pointed out.
“And the freaks come out at night.”
Sam nodded, pushing open a door and using his torch to look inside.
“Hey Sam?” Dean asked, and Sam turned back to him. “Who do you think is a hotter psychic? Patricia Arquette or you?”
Sam hit him on the arm and Dean burst into laughter, following Sam into the open room. Several tables were covered in jars, preserving different body parts, whilst several medical tools were scattered around the room. Sam grimaced, disgusted while Dean frowned, examining the instruments.
“Man. Electroshock, lobotomies - they did some twisted stuff to these people.” He looked at Sam. “Kind of like my man, Jack, in Cuckoo’s Nest.” He grinned, but Sam rolled his eyes. His grin faded. “So, what do you think? Ghosts are possessing people?”
“Maybe.” Sam looked at one green jar carefully. “Or maybe it’s more like, uh, Amityville.”
“Yeah, spirits driving them insane.” Dean sighed, Sam still really serious. “Kind of like my man Jack in the Shining.”
Sam didn’t smile, his eyes still flicking around the room. “Dean… when are we going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” Dean was confused, watching Sam carefully.
“About the fact that Dad’s not here.”
Dean groaned, starting to rummage through some papers on a shelf. “Uh, let’s see, never.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We’ll just have to pick up the search later.”
“It doesn’t matter what he wants.”
Dean grimaced, finally tunring to face Sam. “See, that attitude right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.”
“Dad could be in trouble. We should be looking for him, not wasting our time in Smallville or here.” Sam was shouting, as Dean gazed at him, shocked. “We deserve some answers, Dean,” Sam voice quickly grew quieter. “I mean, this is our family we’re talking about.”
“I understand that, Sam.” Dean was growing frustrated too, his searching becoming less careful. “But he’s given us an order.”
“So what?” Sam stared at Dean, “We’ve always got to follow Dad’s orders?”
“Of course we do.”
Sam shot him an annoyed look, but returned to the search. Dean found a large plaque under some more disgusting diagrams. “Chief of Staff, Sanford Ellicott, M.D” he read aloud, Sam coming over to look as well. “Sanford Elicott. You know what we’ve got to do? We’ve got to find out more about the south wing, and see if something happened here.”
He handed the plaque to Sam and left the room, Sam following him.
*
Chloe ran a hand through her hair, the silence of the school annoying her even more than the empty search for Mrs Lang’s speech. Lana had been useless, as always, not even providing her with her mother’s maiden name.
When she thought about it, Lana should have known. Her aunt was her mother’s sister and so she should have known her last name.
“Laura Potter, graduation speech, 1977.” Chloe mumbled as she typed it into the search engine. As the website loaded, her phone blasted the ringtone through the silence and she jumped.
“Hello?” she asked, not having checked the caller id. “Chloe Sullivan.”
“Chloe, its Dean.”
“So you’re able to talk to me now?” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Nothing.” she rolled her eyes at the phone. “What do you want?”
“Can we borrow your investigative skills?”
“I’m busy.” she glanced at the computer screen, groaning at the dullness of her current task.
“What with?”
“Graduation Speech, 1977.”
“And how do you not find a creepy asylum more interesting?”
Chloe almost grinned at the idea of looking into it, before remembering she was already doing something. She frowned, not answering Dean in order to click on a link. “Dean, I’m busy.”
She hung up, moaning at the lack of a good case due to her stubbornness. She glanced at her phone, but pushed aside, reading the blog that had come up on screen.
‘One thing in my life I will never forget was Laura’s grad speech. Laura Potter, valedictorian, said ‘I never made a difference…’
Chloe smiled, hoping the job was done, due to some old guy with a online blog, when her phone rang once again.
“Dean, I told you, I’m busy.” she snapped.
“It’s Sam.”
“I’m still busy.”
“How can you not find this more interesting?”
She stared at the blog, then at her phone. “Sam, I’m not sure… I mean, of course I find it more interesting, but I promised someone I would do this.”
“Chloe, it might help us find our dad. We need you to do this”
“Fine.”
“Thanks.”
“What am I looking into then?” she asked, already opening another internet page.
“Someone call Sanford Elicott, the Chief of Medicine at the Roosevelt Asylum and if anything happened at the South Wing.”
Chloe laughed with excitement. “That is better than Lana’s mother.”
“What?”
“I’ll call you back when I’ve got something.”
“Bye, Chloe.”
“Bye, Sam.”
She was grinning widely as she bookmarked the blog and instead typed ‘Elicott, Rockford, Illinois.’.
*
A few days later, Chloe sat in the Torch, a phone number on screen, as she considered calling a relation of Sanford Elicott.
Once again, her ringtone exploded through the silence. She turned away from the screen and grabbed it, answering.
“Chlo, it’s Pete.”
“Pete? What are you doing?” she asked, knowing Pete only called if he found something interesting.
“I was hoping you would ask that.”
“Well?” she smiled.
“Clark and I were wondering if you wanted to come with us to the antique store.”
“Uh, the antique store,” she frowned. “Sorry, Pete, but..”
“We think something’s up with Tina Greer.”
“I could have told you that.” she chuckled. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Clark thinks that she can change into different people, like Lex.”
“Clark thinks she robbed the bank?”
“He also says she can change into Lana and wants to check the place out.”
“So, another meteor freak attacking Smallville?” Chloe desperately wanted to go, but her eyes flicked to the phone number emblazoned across her computer screen. “I can’t, I’ve got something else I’m doing at the moment.”
“What could be more interesting than this?”
Chloe was sick of people asking her that. “Look, Pete, I’ll help you when I’m finished. Call me if you find anything.”
Pete agreed and she hung up, thankful he hadn’t asked any questions. Grimacing, she picked up the wired Torch phone and plugged the number in, pressing call and wringing her fingers nervously under the desk.
A receptionist answered, and Chloe quickly formed a lie. “Hello, I’m a student at Metropolis and I’m studying History of Medicine. We’re doing projects on small-town medicine and I was wondering if I could speak to a doctor here, maybe a psychiatrist.”
The other end was silent.
“Please hold.”
Chloe waited impatiently.
“That’s alright. Dr Ellicott is free at the moment and he is willing to talk, Miss…?”
“Sullivan.”
“Please hold.”
Chloe waited for a while, until the doctor picked up.
“Hello, Doctor Ellicott, psychiatrist.”
“Hello, I’m Miss Sullivan. I was calling about information about history of medicine in your area.”
“I’d be happy to help.”
Chloe raised an eyebrow, staying quiet for a second. “I’m sorry, it’s just… wasn’t there a Sanford Elicott. I’m sure I read about him during my studies.” Ellicott gasped quietly. “Wasn’t he a Chief Psychiatrist of somewhere?”
“My father was Chief of Staff at the old Roosevelt Asylum. How did you know?”
“I must have found it when researching Rockford.” Chloe grinned. “Wasn’t there an incident or something in the hospital, the south wing?”
“So.”
“So?” Chloe paused, suddenly feeling awkward. “What was it exactly that happened in the south wing? I can’t remember…”
“Look, if you’ve researched Rockford, then you must know all about the Roosevelt Riot.”
“The riot? No, I don’t think I had a very good source.” Chloe was silently panicking.
“Miss, I’ll tell you all about the riot, if you tell me why you’re really calling.”
“Honestly,” she laughed nervously. “I’m just interested in the history of the area, and this riot seems to be the most exciting thing that’s happened.”
There was a few minutes of silence, where Chloe worried that the doctor had hung up on her.
“Honestly?”
“It’s all for my report. I’m just a nerd…”
“The South Wing?” Chloe held her breath. “That’s where they kept the hard cases, the psychotics, the criminally insane…”
*
Sam’s phone rang, and the brothers looked up from their burgers. Dean smirked, grabbing the phone before Sam could react.
“Chloe?”
Sam frowned, reaching over for the phone.
“It took you awhile. What took you so long?” Dean asked.
“You try searching for a dead, psychiatrist whose not even vaguely famous.”
Sam paid for the food, taking the burgers with him into the Impala. Dean followed. When he was sitting in his seat, he put the phone on speaker.
“And?” Dean asked.
“The South Wing was where they housed the bad cases.”
“Sounds cosy.” Dean grinned, glancing at Sam.
“One night in ’64, the patients rioted. They attacked the staff, each other…”
“The patients took over the asylum?” Sam asked.
“Sam?” Chloe sounded happier, but she quickly went back to business. “Oh, yeah, apparently.”
Dean laughed at her, while Sam stayed serious. “Any deaths?”
“Some patients, some staff.” Chloe’s voice broke. “I mean, it sounded pretty gory. Some of the bodies weren’t recovered, including Ellicott.”
“Wait, what do you mean, ‘never recovered’?” asked Dean, frowning.
“Do we really have to go into it?”
“Yes.” said Sam, softly.
“Cops scoured every inch of the place, but I guess the patients must have…” she gulped. “stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”
“That’s grim.” Dean said.
“Yeah. 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 unrecovered bodies.”
“Yes.” Chloe sounded queasy. “That’s what I said.”
“Which could mean a bunch of angry spirits.” Sam scowled.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, good times.” Dean smiled. “Let’s check out the hospital tonight.”
“Whatever you’re doing,” Chloe paused, sounding slightly confused. “Be careful.”
She hung up and the brothers grinned at the phone, pulling away from the curb and heading towards the Asylum.
They entered the building, Dean holding the EMF, and a flashlight while Sam held up a video camera. They walked slowly through the corridors, until suddenly the EMF started flashing wildly.
“Getting readings?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, big time.” Dean walked further into the asylum, but Sam held him back, showing him the video screen.
“This place is orbing like crazy.” The screen showed several orbs floating in the room.
“There’s probably multiple spirits out and about.” Dean explained.
“If the unrecovered bodies are causing the haunting..”
“We’ve got to find them and burn them.” Dean said, determined. “just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed-off spirit is the pissed-off spirit of a psycho killer.”
They continued walking, pausing when they heard something behind them. They turned, torches held towards the floor.
Nothing.
They moved further into the asylum. Sam walked a bit ahead of Dean, turning into another room. When he turned back around, a spirit stood before him. Her face was disfigured and shoe moved, disjointedly, towards him.
“Dean!” Sam yelled. “Salt gun!”
Dean rushed over. “Sam! Get down!”
Sam ducked as Dean pulled the trigger. The salt hit the girl and she vanished.
“That was weird.” Sam panted.
“Yeah.” Dean examined the room quickly. “You’re telling me.”
He walked away, Sam following him. “No, Dean, I mean that it was weird that she didn’t attack me.”
“Looked pretty aggressive from where I was standing.”
They were walking back along the corridor. “She didn’t hurt me. She didn’t even try.” Dean looked at him quickly. “So if she didn’t want to hurt me, then what did she want?”
Dean didn’t answer, his stare directed at an upturned table. A sob shook through the room, and they approached carefully. Sam moved the table as Dean aimed his gun. A young girl jumped, she was crying. Dean lowered his gun.
“It’s all right.” Dean shot a confused glance at his brother. “We’re not going to hurt you. It’s okay.”
“What’s your name?” Sam asked, helping her up.
“Katherine - Kat.” she answered, her voice shaking.
“Okay, I’m Dean. This is Sam.” Dean introduced.
“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, worried.
“My boyfriend, Gavin -“
“is he here?” Dean asked, urgently.
“Somewhere.” Dean exchanged a look with Sam. “He thought it would be fun to try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just, you know… pretend. I’ve seen things. I heard Gavin scream and…”
Dean groaned. “Okay, Kat. Come on, Sam’s going to get you out of here, and then we’re going to find your boyfriend.”
“No!” Kat screamed. “I’m not going to leave without Gavin. I’m coming with you.”
Dean cursed quietly. “It’s no joke around here, okay? It’s dangerous.”
“That’s why I’ve got to find him.”
Sam shot Dean an exasperated look.
“Alright.” Dean sighed. “I guess we’re going to split up then. Let’s go.”
Kat latched onto Dean and he led her down the corridor. Sam frowned, as he heard Kat start shouting her boyfriends name.
Sam turned, heading the other way. “Gavin?” he called. “Gavin?”
He walked slowly down the corridor, turning into an old room, where a boy lay shaking on the floor. Sam sighed, kneeling next to the young boy. “Gavin, hey Gavin.” He shook the boy and he woke up, jumping as he saw Sam. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m here to help.”
“Who are you?”
“My name is Sam. Uh, we found your girlfriend.”
“Kat?”
“yeah.”
“Is she alright?”
“She’s worried about you. Are you okeay?”
Sam helped Gavin to stand up. “I was running. I..I think I fell.”
“Running from what?” Sam asked quickly.
“There was…there was a girl. H-h-her face was all messed up.”
Gavin started to panic, and Sam grabbed his arm. “Okay, listen. This girl, did she try to hurt you?”
“What?” Gavin shut up, looking terrified. “No. She, uh,…”
“What?” Sam was getting frustrated.
“She kissed me.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “But..but she didn’t harm you physically?”
“Dude. She kissed me. I’m scarred for life.”
Sam frowned, not amused. “Well, trust me, it could’ve been worse. Now do you remember anything else?”
“She..actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. I ran like hell.”
meanwhile, Dean strode down the corridor, Kat latching onto his arm. After a few steps, his flashlight went out and Kat squeaked.
“Son of Bitch.” he cursed. “It’s alright, I’ve got a lighter.”
He pulled his arm away from Kat to fetch the lighter when she squeaked again.
“What?” he asked.
“You’re hurting my arm…” she whimpered.
“What are you talking about?” Dean shone he flame on her arm, eyes widening as he saw a hand holding onto her. As she screamed, the spirit snatched, pulling her into a room and slamming the door.
Dean swore, desperately trying to open the door, but it wouldn’t open.
“Get me out! Please!” she yelled through the door.
“Hang on!” He found a crowbar, using it to open the door, but again, it didn’t work. He winced at the girls continuous screams, hearing footsteps from down the hall.
It was Sam and Gavin.
“What’s going on?” asked Sam, eyeing the crossbow.
“She’s inside with one of them.” Dean explained quickly, pounding again at the door.
She screamed for help again, and Gavin started panicking.
“Kat, it’s not going to hurt you!” Sam yelled back through the door. “Listen to me! You have to face it. You have to calm down.”
“She’s got to what?” asked Dean, incredulous. Kat echoed him.
“The spirits, they’re not trying to hurt us, they’re trying to communicate. You’ve got to listen to it. You have to face it!”
“You face it!” Kat said, hysterical, and Dean couldn’t help chuckling.
“No, it’s the only way you’re going to get out of there. Just look at it, that’s all.” Kat shouted something in protest. “Come on, you can do it.”
It fell silent.
“Man, I hope you’re right about.” Dean whispered to Sam.
“Me too.” Sam grimaced.
They heard the door unlock and Kat walked out. Gavin rushed over, enveloping her in a hug.
“One thirty-seven.” she said slowly.
“Sorry?” Dean asked politely.
“It whispered in my ear, 137.”
Dean looked at Sam. “Room number.”
They crouched down on the floor, pulling various weapons out of their duffle bag. “Alright, so if these spirits aren’t trying to hurt us…” Sam wondered.
“Then what are they trying to do?”
“Maybe that’s what they’ve been trying to tell us.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Dean stood up. “So, are you guys ready to leave this place?”
“That’s an understatement.” grimaced Kat.
“Okay.” Dean turned to Sam. “You get them out of here. I’ll go find room 137.” He left, Sam and the couple walking back towards the asylum entrance.
Dean walked deeper in, looking at each of the room numbers until he came to room 137. He pushed open the door, eyes widening as he saw furniture, paper and various other things strewn across the room. He looked around, finally reaching an old cabinet, which he forced open. Inside lay a leather case, full of papers.
He leafed through the sheets, one of which read ‘Patient’s Journal’. He raised an eyebrow as he searched the journal, each page displaying various ways of torturing people. He looked on, disgusted. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, typing in a now familiar number.
It was picked up quickly.
“Chloe?” he asked, still reading. “All work and no play makes Dr Ellicott a very dull boy.”
Back in the hallway, Sam stood with the couple. “I’ve looked everywhere.” He told them. “There’s no way out.”
“So what the hell are we going to do?” asked Gavin.
“We’re not going to panic.”
“Why the hell not?”
His cell phone rang and Sam answered it quickly. “Hey.” The couple glanced up at Sam. “Dean? Where are you?”
They heard Deans’ panicked voice. “I’m on my way.” Sam said, quickly, hanging up. “Allright, can either of you handle a shotgun?”
“I can.” Kat said. “My dad’s taken me skeet shooting a couple of times.”
“Okay.” Sam smiled, handing her a shotgun. “It’s loaded with rock salt. Now, it won’t kill a spirit but it will repel it. If you see something, shoot.”
Sam walked away, moving down to the basement. “Dean?”
There was no response, so he entered the room, continuing to search. In the centre of the room, his flashlight went out. Sam grimaced, tapping it against his hand, as a door in front of him opened. sam entered, gun raised, seeing someone behind a translucent curtain.
He went towards it, pushing it aside.
No one was there.
Confused, he turned around. Dr Sanford Ellicott stood before him, grabbing his face and sending electrical sparks through his body.
“Don’t be afraid.” The spirit whispered. “I’m going to make you all better.”
Dean walked back down the corridor, Chloe chatting into his ear about someone called Tina Greer. He was ignoring her as he navigated the hallways.
Someone shot, narrowly missing him and he fell to the floor.
“Damn it, damn it! Don’t shoot, it’s me!” he yelled, and he heard Chloe start panicking.
“Sorry!” Kat yelled, and he stood back up, approaching them.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Sam?”
“He went to the basement. You called him.”
“I didn’t call him.” Dean said, worried. “I’ve been on the phone this whole time.”
“His cell phone rang. He said it was you.”
“Basement? Watch yourselves.” Dean picked up a gun from the floor, putting it into his jean pockets. “And watch out for me.”
He left, running to the basement, Chloe’s loud panicking on the end of the phone not helping. He paused by the basement door, lifting the phone back ot his ear. “Chloe.” he panted. “Sam’s fine, but your panicking isn’t helping. Just be quiet for a second.”
He pushed the door open. “Sammy?” he called. “Sam, you down here?”
He turned round, and Sam was standing behind him. “Man!” Dean exhaled. “Answer me when I’m calling you. You all right?”
“I’m fine.” Sam answered, quietly.
“You know that wasn’t me who called your cell, right?”
“I know.” Sam nodded. “I think something lured me down here.”
“I think I know who. Dr Ellicott. That’s what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven’t seen him, have you?”
“No.” Sam answered. “How do you know it was him?”
“Cause I found his log book. Apparently, he was experimenting on his patients - some awful stuff.”
“It makes lobotomies look like a couple of aspirin.” Chloe said, Dean having put her on speaker. Sam looked at Dean in shock.
“But it was the patients who rioted.”
“Yeah.” said Chloe. “But they were rioting against Ellicott. Dr Feelgood was working on a type of extreme rage therapy. He thought if he could get his patients to vent their anger, then they’d be cured.” Chloe sighed. “Instead, it only made them angrier.”
Dean grinned at Sam. “She’s useful, isn’t she?” He paused, hoping for a reaction. “So…I’m thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop, the kids in the seventies - making them so angry that they become homicidal. Come on, Sammy. We’ve got to find his bones and torch them.”
“I don’t know.” Sam said slowly. “It sounds kind of -“
“Crazy?” Chloe interrupted. “Honestly, I have no idea what you guys are doing, but I researched it. I don’t know about Dean’s theory but it’s the only one we have.”
“Exactly.” smirked Dean.
“How?” asked Sam. “How are we going to torch his bones? The police never found his body.”
“The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere, where he’d work on his patients. So if I was a patient, I’d drag his ass down here, do a little work on him myself.”
Dean grinned, leaving to find the room, Sam following him dubiously.
“I told you, I looked everywhere. I didn’t find a secret room.”
“That’s why they call it hidden.” he paused. “You hear that?”
“What?” Sam frowned.
Dean crouched down, putting his hand on the space between the wall and the floor. “There’s a door here.”
Sam grimaced, raising his shotgun, suddenly looking extremely angry. “Dean.” he hissed. “Step back from the door.”
Dean turned, watching in shock as Sam’s nose began to bleed. He stood up.
“Sam, put the gun down.” He stated, wincing as Chloe began screaming through the phone, unsure about what was going on.
“Is that an order?”
“No, it’s more of a friendly request.”
As Dean reached into his pocket, turning off the speaker on his phone, Sam aimed the gun at his brother.
“I’m getting pretty tired of taking your orders.”
“I knew it.” Dean sighed, speaking loudly so Chloe could hear him. “Ellicott did something to you, didn’t he?”
Chloe’s words got louder, and Dean guessed she was trying to speak to Sam, but he wasn’t really concentrating on her at the moment.
“For once in your life, shut your mouth.”
“What are you going to do Sam? The gun’s filled with rock salt. Not going to kill me.”
Suddenly, Sam pulled the trigger, shooting Dean in the chest, sending him falling through the wall into the secret room.
“No.” Sam laughed, evilly. “But it’ll hurt like hell.”
Dean opened his eyes, gasping for breath as Sam walked over to him.
“Sam!” he panted. “We have to burn Ellicott’s bones and all this will be over. You’ll be back to normal.”
“I am normal. I’m just telling the truth for the first time.” Sam snarled. “I mean, why are we ever here? Because you’re following dad’s orders like a good little soldier? ‘Cause you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?”
“This isn’t you talking Sam.”
“That’s the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I’m not pathetic like you.”
“So what are you going to do? You going to kill me?”
“You know what? I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We’re no closer to finding dad today than we were seven months ago.”
“Well then,” Dean sighed, noting that Chloe had gone silent, although he doubted she had hung up. “Here, let me make it easier for you.” He removed the pistol from his jeans and handed it to his brother. “Go on. Take it. Real bullets are going to work a hell of a lot better than rock salt. Take it.”
Sam snatched the gun from him, dropping the shotgun as he pointed the pistol directly at Dean. “You hate me that much?” asked Dean. “You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger.”
Sam waited, his finger balanced on the trigger.
“Do it!” yelled Dean.
Sam pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He tried again. While Sam was distracted, Dean grabbed him, throwing him to the floor. He stood above him, wincing in pain. “Man, I am not going to give you a loaded pistol.” He used the butt of the shotgun to knock Sam out.
He spent the next few minutes searching the room, but he found nothing.
“Maybe he’s in a cabinet.” Came Chloe’s weak voice from the phone.
Dean nodded, noticing a white medical cabinet in the corner of the room. He walked over, opened it and gagged.
Dr Ellicott’s corpse was stuffed inside.
“Oh, that’s just gross.” He grabbed the duffle bag, taking out a container of salt and pouring it over the skeleton. He then poured on the lighter fluid, but his flashlight began to flicker and his phone died. A table suddenly moved, crashing into Dean and sending him flying across the room.
Dr Ellicott appeared next to him, grabbing the sides of his face and sending electrical impulses through Dean’s body.
“Don’t be afraid.” The Doctor said. “I’m going to help you.”
Dean struggled, reaching for his bag and grabbing his lighter with the tips of his fingers. He clicked the lighter and threw it into the cabinet, setting the corpse on fire. Ellicott let go of Dean, screaming with pain as his body disintegrated, leaving nothing but his clothes.
Sam groaned, waking up and massaging his head. Dean turned to him, raising his arms in front of him.
“You’re not going to try and kill me, are you?” Dean asked. Sam shook his head. “Good. Because that would be awkward.”
He helped Sam up, leading him out the room.
*
Chloe held the phone loosely in her hand, panicking quietly.
“Dean?” she asked, but it was silent.
She shook with nerves. When the phone started ringing again, she exhaled, answering again.
“Hey.”
“Pete!” she exclaimed, once more.
“Tina tried to take over Lana’s life. Clark went to save her.”
“What!” her eyes widened. “What happened?”
“I’m not clear on the details.”
“Where are they?”
“Clark says they’re fine - Lana was trapped in a tombstone, but other than that, they’re both fine. Although he said he was pushed into a few gravestones.”
“Right.” she smiled weakly. “I have to go.”
She pushed herself out of her bed, grabbing her phone, a tape and her coat, praying that she hadn’t woken her father. She ran outside, locking the door and jumping into her father’s car.
She pulled away from the house, driving towards the Lang household. She arrived in record time, noting the ambulances and police cars.
She jumped out, spotting Clark sitting on a fence, swamped in blankets, and Lana wrapped in a hug from her aunt.
“Hey, I heard what happened.” she said, greeting Clark with a wobbly smile. Clark smiled at her, looking amazingly uninjured.
“Did you come by to see if I was okay?” he asked, looking slightly shocked.
She shook her head, engulfing him in a quick hug anyway. He smiled down at her. “Actually,” she whispered. "As concerned as I always am about your personal wellbeing, I’m not here to see you.”
She pulled away from him, walking over to Lana, noting her scared posture. “Lana,” she whispered, sitting on Lana’s free side. “I did some digging.”
Lana burst into a smile. “Oh my god, how did you find this?”
She snatched the tape out of Chloe’s hand, reading the label ‘Graduation Speech, 1977’.
“If I told you, I’d have to kill you and it looks like you’ve had enough trauma for one night.”
“Thank you, Chloe.”
“No problem.”
Chloe walked away, smiling at Clark one more time. She crawled back into her dad’s car, following a white Belle Reeve van away from Lana’s house.
*
Chloe woke up to a persistent ringing on the doorbell. Rolling out of bed, she ran down the stairs and unlocked the door.
Dean and Sam stood at the doorbell, both looking worse for wear.
“Sam? Dean?” she broke out into a grin. “I thought you were dead!”
She threw herself at the two of them, wrapping them in a hug. They tensed, grinning weakly at her. Pulling away, she brought them through to the living room. They slumped onto a sofa.
“You don’t know how glad I am to see you.” she told them, smiling at Sam. “I thought that if Sam hadn’t killed you, that Dr Ellicott had killed both of you.”
They squirmed uncomfortably, and she realised they didn’t want to talk about. “You missed the freak of the week.”
“I think our trip was more exciting.” Dean said.
“I don’t how you did that. I mean, it freaked me out on the phone, I can’t imagine actually being there.”
“What was it?” Sam asked, leaning on the arm of the chair. She looked up, confused. “The Freak of the week?”
“Oh, Tina Greer had been infected by the meteors, allowing her to change shape into anyone.”
“Like a shape shifter?” Dean asked, remembering his last encounter with one.
“I guess…” she glanced at him, “She was Lex, robbing the bank, and then she tried to become Lana Lang, but our resident hero…”
“Clark?” Dean asked, exchanging suspicious looks with Sam, as he remembered seeing Clark walk through fire.
“Yeah. He saved her from being trapped in a crypt. Greer’s not dead, but she was sent to Belle Reeve.”
“Where?” Dean asked.
“Metropolis’ own mental asylum, hopefully not as creepy as the one you were just in.”
They nodded, and she glanced between them, spotting the bruise from the shotgun on Sam’s head. She went into the kitchen, retunrning with some frozen peas. She sat between them, holding it gently against his bruise.
“Did you find your dad?” she asked, quietly to Dean, knowing it was a sore topic for Sam.
He looked down, shaking his head and she frowned.
“Well, at least you have each other!” she said, and Sam smiled weakly, wrapping one arm around Chloe.
She ignored it, watching as Dean snorted.
“Chloe.” he said, seriously. “I don’t do chick flick moments.”
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