Hiya. So it is really late here, but this idea wouldn't leave me alone. Please ignore any stupid mistakes as I am half asleep right now and will check it properly tomorrow. Have a great day! x
It was common knowledge that Sam Winchester was the easy child. Not perfect, far from it in fact, but a heck of a lot easier. He was far easier to deal with than his disruptive, hard headed and much messier older brother, Dean. He worked his little socks off at school, managing to achieve all A`s and B`s (math wasn`t his strongest subject, okay?) in school with very little effort, he was never tardy (save from the disastrous Tuesday last term when he had that doctors appointment) and he didn`t enjoy watching that much television apart from the odd documentary about the ancient world or science. The fourteen year old boy`s biggest sin was probably that he never remembered when it was his turn to do the dishes and he had a nasty habit of staying up too late with a good book and commandeering the second hand Dell laptop he and his brother were meant to share. Dean would piss and moan, but he didn't really mind as long as the younger boy left his internet history alone and never brought it up to their father.
John Winchester used to be in the military before he met their late mother, Mary, who going by the old wrinkled photograph he kept in his brown leather wallet at all times, was a very beautiful young woman. Blonde and slender, with piercing green eyes that her young sons had inherited. Dean had also inherited her freckles. Angels kisses she used to call them. She had died when Sam was just a cot-bound infant in a house fire. That was the official story, anyway. In other words it was a lie. The non-official sequence of events was enough to get the boys taken off of John and get him locked up somewhere nice and safe and padded, because according to all sane people Demons didn`t exist. So all three of them kept shtum about it even to this day.
Shortly after her untimely death the small, broken family had left town and settled somewhere new with a distant relative, retired mechanic and monster hunting extraordinaire, Bobby Singer. With his gruff voice and scruffy beard, he was just as irritable and sarcastic as he looked, but deep down the man had a heart of gold. He cared deeply for the youngsters and their father, who slowly had started to succumb to a deep depression, calmed only by drinking treacherous amounts of cheap booze and trying to track down and slaughter whoever, or whatever had robbed him of his wife. Bobby had lost his own wife a few years previously to a Demon, and was now trapped in a wheelchair after being injured during a particularly nasty hunt, and although he rarely voiced his appreciation aloud, everyone knew just how grateful he was for the company and he showed it in his actions. Checking up on the sleeping boys in the middle of the night when his insomnia struck again, to making sure he always had enough money left over to give Sam and Dean the odd bit of cash every week, were just a couple of the ways the older man showed his love for them.
It was the beginning of one of the rainiest Mays Sam could recall when he first saw the once brightly coloured flyer hung slightly lopsidedly from an out of use lamppost on his way to school one morning. As he walked towards it whatever had been pinning it up finally gave in and the sad looking advert flittered down to the ground, landing face down in the middle of a small puddle. He was a curious young boy so he knelt down carefully and picked it up, taking care not to make a mess of his clean clothes. He didn`t fancy the idea of having to sit in school all day in wet, mucky clothing. The flimsy paper was torn in the corners and more than a little soggy, the rainbow ink had ran and mixed in with muddy brown stains and splashes of rainwater, making the writing only just legible.
Happy hour Fridays! Kids under five ride free all evening! The sorry looking poster boasted in a smudged font. A funfair. Oh boy, when was the last time he had been to one of those? It must have been years. The last time he could remember had been when their neighbour, Ellen had taken them with her daughter Jo, who was a year younger than Dean. John hadn`t been too eager to let his children go to such an unruly place, but Ellen was a pretty formidable opponent and insisted that if he didn`t agree she would end up taking them anyway. Surprisingly, Bobby had backed her all the way, which is what Dean thought made their dad eventually back down.
It sure would be fun to go to one again, not that they would be allowed. And Dean was a lot older now, nearly sixteen, he wouldn't `t want to be seen dead at somewhere as lame as a kiddie`s funfair. Not even if he had a girlfriend to win prizes for, which he didn`t, because his long term girlfriend Lisa had only recently given him the axe. Sam sighed miserably and stuffed the damp flyer in the small side pocket of his simple black and blue messenger back and continued onto school.
The fair was apparently all his classmates could find to talk about all day. It seemed as though the world was conspiring against Sam and his happiness. During registration an awkward girl with purple braces was chattering away about it with the other members of the advanced maths class, and after break all of the other boys were talking about how awesome the more extreme thrill rides were going to be. Even the older students like the ones in his brother`s class were enthusiastically chatting about it during lunch, with some of them, the ones with girlfriends hoping to get lucky were bragging about how they were definitely going to get some after bagging their unlucky ladies some cheap fluffy teddy. Some of the more pathetic ones were eagerly talking about their plans to lurk about near "GForce" a ride that spun its daring passengers upside down and held them there for several seconds in the hopes that they might see some poor girl`s panties. Sam had to allow himself a laugh at their patheticness, even if he was envious of them. He was jealous about them going to the fair, not about seeing some stranger`s under-wear, obviously.
By the time home time came, Sam was feeling drained, more so than usual and couldn't wait to get home, even if it did mean two to three hours of martial arts training, then homework. Every Monday, Wednesday and Saturday, John had both boys study martial arts, the other days of the week involved swotting up on their knowledge of the creatures that went bump in the night. Once in a while, when he went out of town on a solo hunt and Bobby was left in charge they would get a night off. Both of them lived for those rare days.
Dean was waiting for him patiently outside of the main gates, his usually trademark grin widening almost painfully when he spotted his brother. "Sammy, hey!"
Sam smiles in return, though his grin was nowhere near as blinding as Dean`s. "Hey," he mumbles, readjusting the worn strap of his bag.
Seeing this, Dean snatches the overstuffed schoolbag from him, despite the fuss Sam kicked up and throws it gracelessly over his own broad shoulder. "Good day?"
"Mmm…I suppose. Not terrible anyway," he shrugs. "Everyone keeps going on about this stupid funfair that just arrived. Apparently it has all these really cool, state of the art rides and the most amazing candyfloss you have ever tasted. According to this girl, Susie in my class, anyway." he tried to sound uninterested, but this was Dean he was talking to. The guy knew him better than even he did, and he could identify each and every single emotion and expression on his face no matter how hard he tried to cover it with total indifference.
"I know you probably really want to go, but you know what dad is like. He won`t ever say yes."
Sam sighs, "I know." Realising his mistake quickly, he edits, "I mean I know, and I don`t even want to go, honest. Fairgrounds are for silly little kids."
"I`m sorry, Sammy." He really was, you could tell. Even if funfairs weren`t his idea of a good night out, Dean would do anything to put a smile on his baby brother`s face and it killed him whenever he couldn't give him something."We could always ask Bobby to try to convince him like that one time when we were children."
"Nah," Sam forces out a smile. "It`s not fair to burden Bobby with the mammoth task of trying to get Dad to play fair again."
Despite Sam saying that it was fine and that he couldn`t care less about going, he did ask their father, who replied exactly as expected.
"Why the bloody hell do you want to be going to some crappy fairground?" John`s words slur slightly and he barely glances up from his spot on the couch, a large bottle of whiskey perched in-between his legs. "Bloody dangerous is what they are. Rife with undesirable types, drunks, junkies, you know what I`m saying, boy?"
Dean tried incredibly hard to bite his tongue so he wouldn't snap and yell something that would get him grounded, and miraculously it worked.
"Perfect place for monsters to hide an` all. I remember reading some article a few years back where some pretty young thing died on one of those nasty thrill rides."
"That was probably just a freak accident. The rides are all regulated and stuff. Sir," he tags it on at the end, hoping they a bit of flattery and good manners might sway his mind.
"You and me both know that the majority of freak accidents ain`t no accidents. That`s just what blind people call it when the truth is too terrifying for them to handle. They cover it all up with pretty little lies to make it easier for them to cope. It`s easier to lie and say a fire started from leaving a pan on the hob as opposed to a monster with eerie yellow eyes."
Dean knew that when his mother was brought up that his side of the argument was over."I`m sorry for even mentioning it. I won`t do it again."
Later that night he tells Sammy the bad, but completely expected news, feeling even guiltier seeing his hurt puppy face.
"I already told you, it doesn`t matter. Honest. I don`t even know why the hell you even bothered asking him, we both knew what he was going to say."
Unable to sleep that night, Dean sneaks into Bobby`s library after everyone had gone to sleep. It was four in the morning when he tiptoed across the cold hallway, past the slightly ajar bathroom door and Sam`s room. He comes to a halt in front of a heavy old door and nudges it openly slowly, praying to a God he didn`t even believe in that it wouldn`t creak too badly and wake anyone. Once inside he takes a second to survey the room. Ceiling high bookcases, six in total occupied most of the space, piled high with countless old leather volumes and stacks of carefully ordered sheets of paper and old parchment with strange texts. A rickety table sat in the centre of the room with an even more unstable chair pushed under it. Atop the table were two more book towers, filled with strange symbols and even stranger titles all about monsters, demons and other dark beings. He flicks a book open out of curiosity, one about Biblical lore and skim reads a few pages, but quickly gets back to the task at hand. Finding a case for John to investigate, or failing that creating one. It had to be far away enough that he would have to rent a room for the night, but not too far away otherwise he would contact a nearer hunter and get them to handle it. Booting up Bobby`s battered old laptop, Dean opens up google and types in a few keywords, quickly coming up with something promising about a hundred miles away.
Three days ago a teenage girl had gone missing after going out for the night with friends. Her friends said she had been acting odd muttering things about vampires before wandering off. It was very likely she was just an obsessed Twihard, but the previous week another teen had gone missing, a boy that time. He too had been acting funny for a few days just like the missing girl. No bodies of either teen had been found as of yet, but if you looked back through past news articles a total of eleven young people had gone missing over the past six months. In a large city, that wouldn`t be considered uncommon, but in a small town, it was definitely out of the ordinary. Dean printed out the related articles and made some untidy notes in what he hoped looked like a close copy of Bobby`s handwriting and tucked the papers under his dad`s coffee cup in the living room where he would find it in the morning. Fake case found, now all he had to do was wait up until Bobby got up, which shouldn't be long considering he normally only got about three to four hours a night, and convince him to play along. There was a small chance that he wouldn't, but Dean had a very strong feeling that he would. He was constantly on at John for never giving the kids a break. "They ain`t warriors, John, they`re you sons and on top of that, they`re just boys. They need to let their hair down every once in a while," he often said in-between yelling at John for constantly leaving his empties scattered all over the place and helping Sam with his homework.
Dean slipped out of the room and into his bedroom to make it appear as though he had been asleep all night and waited for him to get up, fighting against his drooping eyelids. Sammy was a good kid, he deserved this, a night off. And if he had to lie to his father in order to get him that, then that was just what he was going to do. That boy and his happiness was more than worth any punishment John could think up.
…
Circus tents the height of trees and all colours of the rainbow, lavishly decorated caravans and motorhomes occupied the lush green field just off the main road. Ear-splitting rock music was being blasted through over a dozen different top-end sound systems. Each one was playing a different song, the harsh wails of guitars and screeched lyrics blurring together in a mash-up that wasn't anywhere near as unpleasant as you might think. More tents were popping up everywhere you looked, displaying novelty games you could play for a couple of quid and a handful more shiny 4 x 4`s pulled up, each one towing massive four, five and six berth vans. Massive rides were already mostly up, the only ones left to put up were a few of the larger thrill rides and some children`s favourites such as the vintage carousel and the dodgems.
"Castiel!" A beautiful dark haired woman called to an even darker haired young man who was just as busy as all of the other members. Busy doing nothing that was. His hair was dark and carelessly messy, with a single vivid blue streak through the front that made his blue eyes appear even bluer. "Gabe and Balthazar want you over by the twister."
The dark-haired boy was leaning comfortably against one of the neighbouring trailers that belonged to his best friend, Charlie and her family, taking in the new scenery. She was busy helping organise the food stalls with her mother over on the far right of the field. He could see her flaming hair from here. This was where they would be staying for the next few months if all went well. He wanted to go for a walk, get a feel for the place seeing as this would be his temporary new home, but it seemed like he was needed. "Damn Gabe," he muttered, knowing damn well that the older boy was going to be fooling around as per usual. Poor Balthazar, how he managed to put up with that joker was a mystery. Not that he was much better of course, but in Castiel`s mind, anyone was better than Gabriel, even Balthazar.
"Castiel, now!" She yells again, her irritation growing.
"Coming, mother," he replies cheerily, dropping a still lit cigarette onto the muddy grass and stomping on it with his too big Doc Marten boots.
He finds the twister ride where his two friends were working easily, it was normally always put up somewhere in the centre, between the more extreme rides and the more kid friendly classics. When he arrived it seemed as though Balthazar and Gabe were just about finishing up.
"My God, what a bloody dump!" the younger of his two friends, Balthazar comments happily, standing up and wiping his calloused hands on his dirty old ripped jeans. "We are staying here for how long again?"
"Aww, c`mon, killjoy, it ain`t all that bad. There`s a McDonalds only like ten minutes away, and a pizza hut."
Cas smiled. There goes Gabriel, thinking with his stomach as always. Although the oldest of the trio usual preferred all things sugary and sweet, he was also quite fond of salty, greasy take-out crap too. "Let`s go and see if there if anything else needs doing," Castiel says before his friends groan in disgust and drag him off to get something to eat.