Trying to get up that great big hill of hope
For a destination
I realized quickly when I knew I should
That the world was never this brotherhood of man
Or whatever that means
….

And I try
Oh my god, do I try
I try all the time
In this institution
And I pray
Oh my god, do I pray
I pray every single day
For revolution

And so I cry sometimes when I'm lying in bed
Just to get it all out, what's in my head
And I, I am feeling a little peculiar
And so I wake in the morning and I step outside
And I take a deep breath and I get real high
And I scream from the top of my lungs
What's going on?

And I said
Hey, hey
I said, hey
What's going on?
And I said
Hey, hey
I said, hey
What's going on?

4 Non Blondes – What's Up?

There wasn't much I could do anymore except try to take everything day by day. Sam and Dean, they weren't acting the same. Hell, I knew I wasn't either. This was something we never expected.

The memory of the three of us standing in front of John's corpse as it burned constantly passed through my mind. It was too much to handle sometimes and I had to try to think of anything else to get it out of my mind, though that never worked.

I already buried one father, never in a million years did I think I'd have to do the same with John.

Bobby sat silently at his desk, staring down into a large open book in front of him. We'd been staying here with him for the past couple weeks, which was nice – in a way. We didn't feel so completely alone right now. I was grateful for Bobby, to have him in my life again. He'd always been very special to me and being here brought back a lot of good memories, none of which brought any comfort to me in this time.

I moved the light curtain over slightly, peering out of the window at Dean – who was still underneath the broken frame of the Impala. All he'd being doing was working on the car since everything happened, and I couldn't tell if it was better for him to be left alone with his thoughts or worse.

Either way, I didn't want to push my presence on him. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself, though.

I stood up from the small red couch, gaining Bobby's attention as he glanced up at me from his book. "Going somewhere?"

"Yeah." I nodded, sliding my hands in my pockets. "Just gonna check on Dean. See if he needs anything."

Bobby raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly. "Alright."

On my way through the kitchen, I grabbed a bottle of beer out of the fridge before heading outside. I'd only made it a few feet from the front porch when I heard Sam walking out behind me.

"Hey."

"Hey." I muttered, turning towards him. "You okay?"

"I don't know." Sam mumbled, looking down. "You?"

"Not really." I admitted, taking a deep breath. "I'm just...I'm trying to be."

"Yeah, me too."

I nodded, letting out a sigh. "Come on, let's go check on Dean."

"Both of us? At the same time?" Sam asked, stopping me mid-turn. "Won't that kind of...I don't know, annoy him?"

"No, no." I said, taking a deep breath as Sam raised an eyebrow at me. "Maybe. Come on."

I shrugged, moving back towards the dented frame of the Impala in the distance. Dean had been keeping literally everything bottled up lately – more than usual – and it was scaring me a little. I wasn't sure what was going to happen when he just exploded, but I knew it wasn't going to be good.

Sam and I stopped in front of the car, staring down at his legs sticking out from underneath it. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" He replied, his voice muffled.

"Want anything to drink? I brought you a beer."

"No, I'm good."

"Are you sure?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun that shined down as Dean pulled himself out from under the car.

"Yeah, Tor, I'm sure." Dean nodded, squinting up at me.

"Okay." I nodded, letting out a low sigh. "Are you- I mean, do you-"

"What?"

"Do you want to talk about anything?" I asked, watching as his face went sour. "I'm just asking. You haven't talked about...anything, really – at all."

"There's nothing to talk about." Dean shrugged, moving to go back under the car. I quickly stopped him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he grimaced at me.

"Dean, come on. There's plenty to talk about." Sam said.

"No. There isn't." Dean muttered. "We know what happened, there's nothing to say. Just...stop."

"Stop? Stop, what?" I asked, stepping back. "Stop caring?"

"No." Dean scoffed, shaking his head as he stood to his feet. "Just- just stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really, I promise."

"Dean, it's just..." Sam paused, letting out a huff. "We've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once."

"You know what? You're right." Dean nodded, tilting his head to the side. "Come here, I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance.

"Don't patronize me, Dean." Sam huffed, exchanging an eye roll with me. "Dad is dead, the Colt is gone, it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Say something, alright? Hell, say anything!" Sam exclaimed. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car."

"Revenge, huh?" Dean asked.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it – oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it." Dean muttered, raising an eyebrow. "We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? I can work on the car."

Dean crouched down beside the car, going back to whatever it was he was doing as Sam and I exchanged a look.

"Well, we've got something, alright?" Sam said, pulling out a cell phone that I didn't recognize. "This is one of Dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this."

I took the phone that Sam handed out to me, listening to a woman's voice play over the speaker. "John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn – you know I can help you. Call me."

"That message is four months old." Sam said, nodding to the phone.

"John saved a message for four months?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Well, who's Ellen?" Dean asked. "Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address."

"No." I said, folding my arms.

"What?" Sam asked.

"We are not doing this. We are not going to pay a random visit to some woman just because John saved her message for four months." I said, glancing back and forth as Sam and Dean stared at me like I'd grown another head. "It's stupid! She could just be come stupid hookup for all we know."

Sam exchanged a look with Dean as he stood to his feet, completely ignoring me. "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."

"Hello? Why is no one listening to me?" I asked, my eyes widening as Sam started walking away and Dean went back to his work on the car.

"Fine. Whatever." I mumbled, throwing my hands up as I stalked back to the house.

ROAD – DAY

The old minivan Bobby had lent us rumbled and sputtered as Dean drove across the pavement, pulling up in front of an old looking building with a sign on the front that read Roadhouse Saloon.

"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!" Dean exclaimed as we hopped out.

"Well, that's what you get for ignoring me." I muttered, nodding to the building. "I'm sure this is nothing."

I walked a few feet in front of the boys, opening the doors cautiously as I glanced around the abandoned looking, dusty place. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"Hey, buddy?" Sam called.

I glanced over, following his gaze to see a guy passed out on the bar, snoring loudly. "I'm guessing that probably isn't Ellen."

"Yeah." Dean chuckled as Sam disappeared into a back room. I went over to the bar, glancing down at the mullet guy, who was still passed out cold.

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle." Dean mumbled. My eyes went wide as I turned around to see a young blonde girl holding a rifle to Dean's back.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you." She smirked, cocking the gun. "Don't move."

"Not moving, copy that. You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do-" Dean paused, turning quickly to grab the rifle away from her. "That."

I smiled over at him, my grin quickly disappearing as the girl punched Dean in the face, taking the gun back from him.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, stalking over to her as Dean held his nose in pain. The girl pointed the rifle in my direction, stopping me in my tracks as she smirked.

"Ash!" She called, causing the guy behind me to fail as he woke up.

"What!? What's the matter?"

"Hold her." She muttered, nodding to me. The guy behind me turned around on his stood, hugging me tightly around the tops of my arms as he held me to his chest.

"Hi." He nodded, smiling at me.

"Good god." I mumbled, shaking my head as I looked to Dean with concern. "Dean, are you okay?"

"I can't see, I can't even see." Dean muttered, more to himself than anything as he leaned on the counter. "Sam! Need some help in here."

"Sorry, I can't right now. I'm a little tied up." Sam said, walking out of the back door with his hands up, an older woman behind him with a gun pointed to his head.

"I told you this was a bad idea!" I said. "You idiots never listen to me."

"Alright." Dean mumbled, sounding exasperated. The woman looked over at me, an eyebrow raised as she stared.

"Are you Ellen?" I asked, going out on a limb.

"Who wants to know?" She asked.

"Does the name Winchester ring a bell?" I asked as Dean rolled his eyes.

Ellen glanced over at me, her eyes darting between the three of us with a slight look of recognition. "Winchester?

"Yeah."

"Son of a bitch." Ellen sighed, lowering her gun as she looked over at me. "Ash, let her go."

"Mom, you know these guys?" The young girl asked.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's kids." Ellen laughed as mullet guy released me from his grasp. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo and that's Ash."

"Hey." Jo muttered, smiling over at Dean as she lowered her rifle awkwardly.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked.

Jo just raised an eyebrow, moving behind the bar as Ash turned around again, laying his head back down on the bar. I quickly made my way over to Dean, checking his nose before leading him over to one of the stools as Ellen disappeared into the back room once again, coming out a few minutes later with a towel full of ice for Dean.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." Dean nodded, taking the towel from her. "You called our Dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well, the demon, of course." Ellen shrugged. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"Who are you? How do you know about any of this?" I asked.

"Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again – including your Dad, a long time ago. John was like family once." Ellen explained, a strange look in her eyes.

"He never mentioned you before."

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen said, raising an eyebrow at the small look Dean and I exchanged.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked, turning back to her.

"Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." Ellen paused. "He didn't send you. He's all right, isn't he?"

Sam and Dean both clammed up, the two of the glancing down at the bar. I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It- it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's okay." Dean nodded. "We're alright."

"Really?" Ellen asked, raising her eyebrows at Dean. "I know how close you and your Dad were."

"Really, lady – I'm fine." Dean snapped. I placed a hand on his arm, patting it gently to try and calm him down before he lashed out at this stranger for just being polite.

"So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get." Sam said.

"Well, we can't." Ellen said, nodding to the mullet guy who had passed out on the bar...again. "But Ash will."

"Him?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ash!" Ellen called loudly. I looked over just as Ash failed again, steadying himself as he almost fell off the stool.

"What? It closing time?"

"He's gonna help us?" I asked.

"He's a genius." Jo nodded, going back to cleaning the bar.

Dean stood behind me, his hands on the back of the chair I was currently sitting on. Ash, a very grungy look man with a blonde mullet, sat next to Sam, staring down at the closed folder in front of him.

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean said.

Ash glanced up at Dean, a big smile on his face. "I like you."

"Thanks." Dean replied hesitantly.

"Just give him a chance." Jo called out from her spot behind the bar.

"It can't hurt." I shrugged, nodding to the empty chair beside me.

Dean sat down with a sigh, opening the folder. "Alright. This stuff's about a year's worth of our Dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it.

Ash pulled the papers out, rifling through them for a moment before shaking his head. "Come on, this crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

"John could." I nodded.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations-" Ash spouted off quickly, leaving Sam, Dean and I a little surprised as he continued. "I mean, damn! They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms...you ever been struck by lightening?"

I raised an eyebrow, shaking my head as he stared over at me. "No."

"It ain't fun."

"I can't imagine it would be."

"It's not."

"Right." I said, letting out a breath. "Can you track this thing, Ash?"

"Yeah, with this, I think so." Ash said, standing up. "But it's gonna take time. Give me...fifty one hours.

"Hey, man?" Dean called as Ash turned to leave.

"Yeah."

"I, uh, I dig the haircut."

"All business up front party in the back." Ash smirked, flipping some hair over his shoulder before walking away.

Jo walked by us, a little grin on her face as she caught Dean's eye. I narrowed my eyes at her turned back, letting out a small huff as I turned back around. Dean glanced down at me with a raised eyebrow, a small smirk on his face.

"Shut up." I mumbled, folding my arms on top of the bar.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?" Sam asked, nodding to something behind the bar.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we-"

"No, no, the- the folder."

"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine. But take a look, if you want." Ellen shrugged, plucking the folder off the wall, handing it to Sam before heading into the back room. Jo came back over to the bar then, staring down at Dean as she stood right in front of him.

"How did your mom get into this stuff?" I asked, trying to stomp down the stupid jealousy bubbling inside of me. My emotions were all over the place.

"From my dad. He was a hunter." Jo paused, looking down. "He passed away."

"Oh, I- I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago, I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your Dad." Jo said, looking back to Dean.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, looking down to the table.

"Guys, check this out." Sam said, sliding the folder in front of Dean and I. I glanced down, reading the large headline on one of the newspaper clippings.

COUPLE MURDERED
CHILD LEFT ALIVE
MEDFORD, WISC.

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam finished.

"So?" I asked.

"So, we should check it out."

IMPALA – NIGHT
Highway

As much as I protested, Sam won out – eventually getting Dean on his side, though I could tell he wasn't completely sold that there was an actual job here. Either way, I think he just needed something to take his mind off of things, considering he wouldn't just simply talk to me.

"Really, though?" I asked, leaning onto the front seat as the minivan drove through the pouring rain. "A killer clown?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded, not looking away from the laptop in his lap. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually."

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. The, uh, Cooper Carnivals."

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam." Dean paused, throwing a small smile back at me before looking to his brother. "Why did it have to be clowns?"

"Oh, give me a break." Sam scoffed, shaking his head.

"You didn't think I'd remember, did you?" Dean laughed. "I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying." Sam retorted, grinning at his brother.

"Planes crash!" Dean exclaimed.

"And apparently clowns kill!" Sam replied quickly. I smiled at the two in front of me, glad that were enjoying a moment – no matter how small.

"These types of murders, have they ever happened before?" I asked.

"Uh, according to the file, nineteen-eighty-one, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales." Sam said.

"It's weird, though." Dean muttered. "I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know. A house, or a town."

"So how's this one moving from city to city – carnival to carnival?" I asked.

"Cursed object, maybe. Spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them."

"Great." Sam huffed, leaning back in the seat. "Paranormal scavenger hunt."

"Well, this case was your idea." Dean muttered, looking over at Sam with a raised eyebrow. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?"

"It's just...not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know. I just think, this job – it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

"What Dad would have wanted?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "So?"

"Uh, nothing." Dean mumbled, shaking his head as he stared out into the road.

Something was brewing inside of him, and I worried if he didn't let it out – he was going to lose it.

CARNIVAL – DAY

The minivan squeaked loudly as Dean pulled it up outside of the small carnival, a grimace on his face as the loud shriek called quite a bit of attention to us.

"Check it out. Five-oh." Dean mumbled, nodding to a few detectives talking some people across the way. "I'm gonna go see what's happening."

"Don't get arrested." I called, grinning at him as he glanced back at me with a smile.

I got out of the car with Sam as he stood there rather uncomfortably, looking around with his hands in his pockets. A small woman in a clown outfit walked by us then, minding her own business until she noticed Sam staring at her nervously. She narrowed her eyes at him, letting out a huff before walking away.

"Sam, cool it." I mumbled, patting his arm.

"I- it's not- never mind."

"Did you get her number?" Dean asked, walking up behind us with a grin. Sam turned to him slightly, a scowl on his face.

I smiled over at Dean, shaking my head as I folded my arms."What'd you find out? More murders?"

"Two more last night." Dean nodded. "Apparently they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown." Sam muttered, his eyes darting between Dean and I as we both shot him strange looks. "What?"

"Yeah, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

"Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything."

"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."

"Oh, good." I said. "That's nice and inconspicuous. No one will notice us snooping around."

"I guess we'll just have to blend in." Dean muttered, nodding to a Help Wanted sign with a smirk, heading over to the tent without another word.

TENT – DAY

We stepped into the tent just as a man thew a knife at a target on the wall of the tent a few feet away. I glanced over at Sam as Dean took a small step forward.

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?"

"What is that, some kind of joke?" The man asked, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal cloudy eyes.

"Oh. God, I'm- I'm sorry." Dean quickly apologized.

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?"

Dean leaned back to Sam and I, a stressed look on his face. "Wanna give me a little help here?"

"No." I mumbled as Sam shook his head.

"Hey man, is there a problem?" A voice asked from behind. The three of us turned as a short man in a red cape entered the tent.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people." The man muttered.

"No." Dean said, shaking his head. "I don't, I-"

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?"

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding."

"Oh, boy." I commented, looking down to the ground as Sam and I chuckled.

"Little?!" The short man exclaimed, taking a step forward. "You son of a bitch!"

"No, no, no! I'm just- could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Dean asked desperately. "Please?"

MR. COOPER'S TRAILER– DAY

"You three picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat." Mr. Cooper gestured to the chairs in front of his desk as he sat behind it.

Dean quickly sat in one of the normal chairs, pulling me with him to leave the pink chair with the giant clown face on it for Sam. I glanced up at him as Sam let out a tired sigh as he sat slowly onto the chair with a grimace.

"We've got all kinds of local trouble." Mr. Cooper continued.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first." He shrugged. "So, you three ever worked the circuit before?"

"Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas." Sam nodded.

"Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?"

"Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess."

"You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?" Mr. Cooper asked, raising his eyebrows as he leaned on the desk.

"Nope. But we really need the work." Dean said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady."

Sam shot his bother a hard look, shaking his head as he fidgeted in his chair.

Thankfully, Mr. Cooper ignored them, pointing back to a picture hanging on the wall. "You see that picture? That's my daddy."

"You look just like him." I muttered.

"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. Till they outlawed them, most places. Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess. You see, this place – it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else." Mr. Cooper said, leaning back. "But you three? You should go to school. Get married. Have two point five kids. Live regular."

Dean took a breath, about to speak when Sam leaned forward, a serious look on his face. "Sir, we don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this."

I shared a worried look with Dean as Sam sat back in his seat, a strange look on his face as he let out a breath.

CARNIVAL GROUNDS – DAY

"So Sam..." I muttered, glancing up as Sam as we walked away from Mr. Cooper's trailer. "That whole, we don't want to go to school thing. Were you just saying that to Cooper? Or were you, you know, saying it?"

"I don't know." Sam shrugged, sliding his hands into his pockets again.

"You don't know?" Dean asked. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State.

"I'm having second thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think- I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean snapped. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I don't have a problem at all." Dean said, stalking away. Sam let out a sigh, watching his brother walk away with a tired look on his face.

I adjusted the bright red Cooper Carnival jacket I wore, letting out a heavy breath as I rolled my eyes. This whole thing was just so tiring. Truthfully, all I wanted to do was go back to Bobby's and sleep.

"Hey, I'm gonna go check out that funhouse over there." Sam said, nodding to the small structure a few feet away.

"Okay." I nodded. "I'm gonna go find Dean. Don't get lost in there."

"I won't." Sam mumbled, walking away.

I stood there for a moment, watching until he disappeared inside before making my way through the small crowds until I found Dean also picking up trash a few feet away. I took the opportunity to creep up on him, walking quietly until I was right behind him.

To be honest, I was a little surprised he didn't realize I was there – but at the same time, I was thankful he didn't as I leaned in slightly, a grin on my face.

"Planes!" I shouted, backing up as he let out a low scream before quickly spinning around to face me with wide eyes.

"What the hell, Tor?" Dean asked, taking in a deep breath as I chuckled.

"Hi."

"I think my heart stopped."

"Oh, you're fine." I muttered, nudging his shoulder. "How are things going over here?"

"As good as picking up trash can get."

"Yeah." I nodded as we started walking a bit.

"You or Sam find anything?"

"Nope." I shook my head, letting out a sigh. "Hey, maybe there's nothing here."

"What?" Dean asked, his voice clouded with disbelief. "How would you explain all the dead people?"

"You know, not everything has to be supernatural." I shrugged. "Maybe there's just some psycho murderer on the loose."

"A psycho murderer who only kills parents and not their children?"

"Maybe that's part of this particular person's crazy..."

Even as I spoke, I knew the words weren't true. And I knew it was stupid of me to even try and think there was something going on here that wasn't something we could take care of. But part of me just wanted to go back to the only place I could really call home and just...grieve.

"You're not serious, are you?"

"I mean...no. No, I guess not."

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, stopping short to stare down at me.

I let out a huff, crossing my arms. "Why is it okay for you to ask me that, but nobody can ask you?"

"Becau-" Dean paused as his phone started ringing. He pulled it out of his pocket, flipping it open as I leaned in to hear Sam.

"Hey man."

"What's the matter?" Dean smirked. "You sound like you just saw a clown."

"Very funny. Skeleton, actually."

"Like a real human skeleton?" I asked.

"In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object – what if it's attached to its own remains?"

"That's grim."

"Did the bones give off EMF?" Dean asked.

"Well, no, but-"

"We should check it out anyway." Dean said, hanging up the phone just as the blind man from before grabbed his arm, spinning him around.

"What are you kids really doing here?"

"I'm- we- we were just sweeping." Dean replied.

"Bull." He spat. "And what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?"

"Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control." Dean mumbled. I quickly smacked his arm, shaking my head at him.

"We're a tight-knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems."

"We got a problem?"

"You tell me – you're the one talking about human bones."

"Do you believe in ghosts?" I asked quickly, ignoring the look Dean was currently shooting me.

"What?" The man snapped.

"My brothers and I, we're writing a book about them." I muttered with a grimace.

Dean and I made our way to the funhouse after I ended up spouting off random things about the paranormal for the next fifteen minutes until the blind man let us go, grumbling as we walked away.

"What took you so long?" Sam asked, pushing off of the railing he was leaning on.

Dean rolled his eyes, glancing over at me before looking back to his brother. "Long story."

"Mommy, look at the clown!" A little girl called from a few feet away, tugging on her mother's arm as she pointed at something neither one of us could see.

"What clown?" The mother asked, pulling her daughter gently. "Come on, sweetie, come on."

"Still think it's nothing?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at me. I let out a slow breath, shaking my head as I watched the little girl stare at what I only saw as thin air.

FAMILY'S HOME – NIGHT

The van was parked a few feet down the street from the little girl's house, we'd been sitting here for a little while now and nothing was happening. I leaned my head against the window, my eyes starting to close as exhaustion finally caught up with me.

"I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam complained, shaking his head.

"I panicked, okay?" I snapped, rubbing my temple. "Plus, I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real."

Dean pulled his gun out, staring down at it for a moment before cocking it. Sam quickly grabbed it out of his hands, shaking his head. "Keep that down!"

Dean shrugged, nodding slightly. "And get this, I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in eighty-one and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what."

"What?"

"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."

"So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?"

"Something like that." Dean shrugged.

"I can't believe we keep talking about clowns." I mumbled, leaning back in the seat with a sigh.

After some time, I was already passed out in the backseat of the van when suddenly Sam started shaking me.

"What!?" I exclaimed, jumping up.

"Come on!" Sam said, getting out of the car with Dean. My heart pounded and I let out a huff, following them up to the house. We got inside through the back door, waiting patiently as the little girl spoke quietly to something she was leading down the hallway.

"Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs."

I glanced over at the boys before jumping out into the hallway to grab the girl, who immediately started screaming. I heard a loud bang as Dean fired the shotgun at the hallway, hitting something. My eyes widened and I held the girl to me who was still screaming as the figure got back up even after being hit. Dean glanced over at me before cocking the gun again.

Just as he did so, it jumped out of the nearby window, shattering it to pieces. I heard rushed footsteps, looking up to see the parents running down the stairs with scared looks on their faces.

"What's going on here!?" The father yelled. "Get away from her!"

"Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!" The girl's mother cried as I quickly pushed the girl out of my arms.

"Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!" The man shouted, moving towards us. Dean helped me to my feet as the three of us ran quickly out of the house.

BCKROAD – DAY

Sam and I were getting our things out of the minivan that was currently parked on the side of the road as Dean pulled the license plates off.

I threw a bag over my shoulder, shaking my head. "I knew that was stupid idea."

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked, ignoring me as he look to his brother.

"I don't wanna take the chance. Besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway." Dean muttered, kicking the tire before we walked away, leaving it behind. "Well, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?"

"We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam suggested.

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?" Dean asked sarcastically. "Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"

"Nope." Sam said, pulling his phone out.

"Who are you calling?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something." Sam shrugged, glancing over at his brother. "You know, I'm starting to think Tori's right. Maybe Dad and Ellen did have a thing."

I raised an eyebrow, looking back to Dean as he shook his head furiously. "What? No way."

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

"I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out."

"You ever notice John had a falling out with just about everybody?" I asked, looking between the boys. Dean just nodded silently, not saying a word.

Sam shook his head, lowering the phone. "You know, Dean, this strong silent thing of yours – it's crap."

"Oh, god." Dean mumbled.

"Really. I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."

"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean snapped. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you two want me to-"

"No, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man."

"Dean, we just want to make sure you're really okay." I said. "That's the only reason we're being so annoying."

"Listen, I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches." Dean said, looking towards Sam. "These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you- you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry, Sam – but you can't. It's too little, too late."

"Why are you saying this to me?"

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death. Are you?"

"I'm going to call Ellen." Sam muttered, bringing the phone back up to dial her number as Dean started walking ahead of us. I glanced back at Sam as he swallowed hard, looking to the ground before stalking over to Dean's side.

"Oh, what now?" Dean complained, throwing an arm in the air.

"What the hell was that?" I asked.

"That was me telling Sam the truth" Dean said.

"There's a certain way to talk to people, Dean." I said, easily keeping up with his quick pace. "You know, it can't hurt to show that you're sad."

"What do you want me to do? Huh? Cry about it?" Dean asked, turning towards me as he kept walking. "That's not gonna change anything. It's not gonna bring him back."

"Dean, I know that. That's not the point." I said, stopping him from walking by placing a hand on his chest as he breathed heavily. "You're not heartless. This is bothering you more than you're letting on, and it's not a bad thing to show it sometimes. None of us are gonna think any less of you because of that."

Dean stared down into my eyes for a moment, a strange look forming in his green ones as he moved away from me, starting back down the road. I watched after him with sad eyes, letting out a small sigh as I continued walking.

A little bit later, I was walking slightly behind Dean, trying to give him some space, as Sam spoke to Ellen on the phone in back of me – the three of us still making our way down the road.

"Thanks, Ellen." Sam said, hanging up the phone as he moved a little faster to get to my side. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" I asked, looking up at him as Dean slowed down a bit, listening in.

"Ellen's best guess." Sam shrugged. "It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited."

"So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in." Dean nodded.

"Yeah."

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"

"Ew." I mumbled, crossing my arms. "What else did you find out?"

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"God."

"Nice." Dean muttered, a grossed out look on his face.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess."

"Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in eighty-one."

"Right." Sam nodded. "Probably more before that."

"Hey, who do we know that worked both shows?" Dean asked.

"Cooper?"

"Cooper." Dean nodded proudly.

"You know, that picture of his father, it looked just like him." I said.

"You think maybe it was him?"

"Who knows how old he is?"

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Dean asked, looking over to his brother.

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass."

"I think I know where to get one of those."

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him."

"Oh, you're such a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean said, sharing a small smile with his brother. "Alright, Tori and I will go round up the blade, you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

TRAILER – NIGHT

"Well, I've got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I've got a brass one, though." The blind man muttered, allowing Dean and I inside his trailer before walking over to a trunk, tapping it with his cane.

"Check the trunk."

I glanced up at Dean before opening the trunk, my eyes going wide as I saw what was inside. A red clown wig.

"You?" Dean asked, staring over at the man. I slowly stood as Dean pulled me closer to his side.

"Me." He smiled, pulling off his glasses to reveal that his eyes were perfectly normal before they turned cloudy again, his face melting as he waved before disappearing in front of us.

Dean and I quickly rushed over to the door, frantically trying to get it open when suddenly a knife flew past us, sticking into the door between our heads. The two of us jumped back as another knife landed right next to the one before.

"Alright!" Dean yelled as he finally got the door open, pushing me out first before following quickly, slamming the door behind him as we ran making it a few feet away before stopping.

"Hey!" Sam called, making his way over to us from one of the tents.

"Hey." Dean mumbled, slightly out of breath.

"So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him." Sam said, furrowing his brow at our heavy breathing. "Are you guys okay? Wait, you two weren't doing anything weird in a tent somewhere, were you?"

"What?" I asked, catching my breath. "No, Sam. God."

"It's the blind guy." Dean explained. "He's here somewhere."

"Oh, my god." Sam muttered, his eyes going wide. "Well, did you get the-"

"The brass blades?" Dean smiled sarcastically, shaking his head. "No. No, it's just been one of those days."

Sam nodded, thinking for a moment. "I got an idea. Come on."

FUNHOUSE – NIGHT

The three of us rushed into the funhouse, making our way through when a door slammed behind us. I turned around to see Dean wasn't behind me, but on the other side of the door.

"Dean!" I called, trying to open the door, but it wouldn't budge.

"Dean, find the maze, okay?" Sam said.

"Alright." Dean replied, his voice muffled.

"Come on." Sam said, gently pulling me through the maze until we found a pipe organ.

"Oh my god." I mumbled, watching as the stream puffed out the top of the pipes. "Why is this even here?"

"I don't know." Sam said, trying to grab one of the pipes.

He quickly pulled his hand back with a hiss, muttering something about it being hot. I pulled off my button down, leaving myself in my tank top, before handing the shirt to Sam as we both started pulling the pipe off.

I heard some footsteps approaching, turning to see Dean walking around the corner. "Hey."

"Oh, good. You're okay." I smiled, letting out a breath. "Where is it?"

"I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?" Dean asked, just as a knife went flying by, pinning his sleeve to the wall, followed by another one.

I helped Sam pulled the pipe off all the way before making my way over to Dean, pulling one of the knives from his sleeves as another one flew past me, landing beside our heads again, causing me to stop.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, stalking around cautiously.

"I don't know!" I exclaimed, looking around. I spotted a lever beside me, reaching up to pull it. As I did, steam poured from the pipe organ again, allowing us to see a vague shape walking around.

"Sam, behind you!" I called.

"Behind you!" Dean yelled, also seeing it.

Sam quickly turned, stabbing the pipe into the thing behind him without even looking. As he glanced up, he saw the pipe sticking out of the invisible creature, blood pouring out around the base of it. I pulled the remaining knife out of Dean's shirt so we could head over to Sam.

The three of us stood over the bloody pipe and pile of clothes now laying on the floor where the Rakshasa laid - dead.

"I hate funhouses." Dean mumbled, wrapping an arm around me.

ROADHOUSE SALOON – DAY

Sam sat next to me at the small table in the roadhouse as Dean leaned down on the bar, waiting for Jo to bring out a few beers. Though with the way she was looking at him, something told me she'd take as long as possible.

"You kids did a hell of a job." Ellen nodded. "Your Dad would be proud."

"Thanks, Ellen." I muttered, smiling up at her as she patted a hand on my shoulder before moving to the other side of the bar to get a drink for some guy who'd wandered in a few minutes ago.

"So." Jo started, a smirk in her voice. I tried to subtly glanced around Sam to see what was going on, watching closely.

"So?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Am I gonna see you again?"

"Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't hate it." Jo muttered, smiling at him.

"Can I be honest with you? See, a little while ago, I'd be hitting on you so fast it'd make your head spin." Dean said, shaking his head as he glanced over at me. "But, uh, these days...I don't know."

"Wrong place, wrong time?" Jo asked, pointing to her mother.

"Not quite." Dean replied, nodding over to me.

"Tori?" Jo asked, looking over at me with a strange look as I glanced back down to the table. Sam chuckled at me, shaking his head. "Why is she stopping you?"

"Well, we've kind of got...a thing going." Dean nodded awkwardly.

I swear, he wouldn't say the words girlfriend or boyfriend in front of any one but me, even if somebody paid him. Hell, he barely even says it to me.

"Your sister?" Jo asked, a disgusted look on her face as she openly stared at me, her eyes darting to Dean. Both mine and Dean's eyes widened as we stared at her.

"No! She's not my sister!" Dean exclaimed, glancing back at me. "God, why does everyone think that?"

"Well, Mom said John's kids. I just assumed." Jo shrugged, looking down to the bar. "Sorry."

"It- it's alright." Dean nodded, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Guess that's not gonna end anytime soon...?" Jo asked hopefully, gaining a glare from me as she smirked.

"Uh, no." Dean said, shaking his head. "No."

"Alright, then." Jo nodded, handing Dean a few beers.

Ash walked into the room from the back then, carrying a folder and a huge laptop in his arms. "Where you guys been? I've been waiting for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash." I said, looking up at him as he sat down. "Clowns."

"Clowns? What the-"

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked, placing the beers on the table before throwing an arm around my shoulder as he sat down. I got a better look at the homemade-looking laptop as Ash set it down on the table, it's wires sticking out everywhere and hanging down onto the table.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.

"It's nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie." Ash muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world – my rig will go off. Like a fire alarm."

"Do you mind?" Dean asked, reaching for the laptop. Ash quickly shot him a hard look and he pulled his hand back, tucking it under the table.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" I asked.

"M.I.T. Before I got bounced for... fighting."

"M.I.T.?"

"It's a school in Boston." Ash nodded, finishing his beer as I stared blankly at him in slight shock.

"Okay." Dean said, sharing a look with me before turning back to Ash. "Give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre."

Dean took another sip of his own beer before setting back on the table, standing to his feet. I was about to follow him and Sam when I saw Ash pick up Dean's beer, drinking it. I couldn't help but stare at him for a moment. He was certainly a strange person. Interesting, though.

"You alright, little lady?" Ash asked, catching me.

"Oh, uh, yeah." I nodded, backing away. "See you, Ash."

"Sure thing." He nodded, continuing to drink Dean's beer.

Dean shot me a small smile as I walked over to him, tucking me under his arm.

"Hey, listen – if you kids need a place to stay, I've got a couple beds out back." Ellen offered, leaning down on the bar.

"Thanks, but no." Dean declined. "There's something I gotta finish."

"Okay." Ellen nodded. "See you around."

Once outside, I wrapped my arms around Dean's mid-section, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips as he smiled down at me.

"What was that for?"

"You love me." I smiled, staring up into his green eyes as I thought back to what he'd said to Jo.

"Oh, god." Dean mumbled, trying to hide the smile on his face, holding me tighter to his side as we left the roadhouse behind us, heading back to Bobby's

JUNKYARD – DAY

I was about to head outside to bring Dean something to drink when I heard Sam's voice coming from over there, causing me to stop in the doorway as I spotted him pacing in front of the car, a stressed look on his face when he finally turned, looking at his brother.

"You were right."

"About what?" Dean asked.

"About me and Dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late." Sam muttered, his lip trembling. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all. But neither are you, that much I know."

Dean glanced down at the ground as Sam took another deep breath, backing away. "I'll let you get back to work."

Sam walked up the stares, glancing over at me in the doorway before heading inside with a sigh. I waited a moment, stepping out onto the porch just as I heard a window shatter in the distance. I watched Dean with wide eyes as he moved away from the car window he'd just smashed, starting to slam the crowbar in his hands onto the trunk of the Impala, repeatedly until there was a large dent there.

I breathed heavily watching him with tears in my eyes as he glanced over to the house, the clang of the crowbar hitting the ground echoing through the air. I quickly moved back into the doorway so he wouldn't see me, peaking around the frame to see that he'd turned, leaning down on the car with a heavy sigh.

With a deep breath, I made my way over to him slowly – almost like I was approaching a wild animal. I placed a light hand on his back, causing him to jump slightly as he glanced up at me. I put a hand on his arm, gently turning him around to look up into his tear-filled eyes.

"It's okay." I nodded, pulling him to me tightly as a tear slipped down his cheek. I felt my own tears well up in my eyes as I shut them, resting my head on his shoulder. "It's gonna be okay."

We stayed there in silence, just holding onto each other. I knew he needed this, though he'd probably never admit to it. And the chances of him actually talking about what he was feeling right now were slim, so I'd take this over him staying quiet any day. At least it was something.

I knew he thought things like this made him seem weak, but it was just the opposite to me. He was the strongest person I knew, no matter what. I couldn't ever tell him that enough.

I knew the coming months – hell, maybe even years – were going to be tough, but thinking back to what John said just before it happened – it helped me through.

Dean and I, we were stronger together. Even though I may have silly doubts sometimes, I knew that for a fact.

I'm not saying it'll be easy, it'll probably be the furthest thing from that. But as long as we're with each other – we could make it through anything. I truly believed that.

Yay, chapter two!

I don't have much to say right now, except that I hope you enjoyed and I'll check back later for any mistakes.

Thanks for reading! :)