Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own either of these lovely creations. Some company owns one and that rich lady owns the other. So, therefore, not mine!
AN: Hi! Its been a while. Not as long as last time, thank god! But still longer than I expected, I apologise for the delay, I lost concentration on this story, it was supposed to be up before Monday, but sadly its now two o'clock Monday morning.
But I got it done in the end, so all is well. On another note, I finished the first chapter of a story that I've been agonising over longer than this story so I'm very pleased. One thing that makes me sad is that my newest story is already more popular than my first story . . .
DON'T MIND ME I'M A LINE BREAK
Clowns that only let you know
Where you let your senses go
Clowns all around you
It's a cross I need to bear
All this black and cruel despair
This is an emergency
Don't you hide your eyes from me?
Open them and see me now
Can you see me now? Can you see me now? Can you see? Can you see?
Can you see? Can you see? Can you see me now? Clowns all around you
Can you see me now? Can you see? Can you see me now? Can you see?
Can you see? Can you see me now?
~ t.A.T.u., Clowns (Can You See Me Now?)
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"Are you sure your 24? You don't even look 18."
Sam sighed. The car trip had been quiet for a few blissful minutes before his brother opened his mouth. He leaned forwards anyway, keen to hear Harry's answer.
"Yes, Dean, I'm pretty sure I know my own age. And I had a few accidents when I was younger, that's why I look younger."
Harry, who hadn't taken his eyes off the road once since they had left Bobby's, answered Dean's question easily. It was long past the time where he had cared about what people thought of him and how he looked. He'd gotten over that when he'd left England . . .
Dean spoke again, quieter this time and he seemed hesitant, "Umm, I want to . . . Thank you."
Harry looked away from the road for a second, looking shocked, "You don't have to thank me Dean."
Dean shook his head, "No, I really do . . . you saved me, and you stopped Dad from making that deal."
Sam spoke up from the back seat, "Why did you help Dean anyway? Do you always just pop in and help random people?"
Harry laughed, "No, Dean's a special case. I owed Bobby a favour, and he asked if there was anything I could do. Let's just say he was a little surprised when you guys called."
Sam and Dean were speechless. Who the hell resurrects someone as a favour?
The rest of the car ride was silent, until a few minutes later, when Harry turned and parked the car outside a lone building. The place had a big sign saying Harvelle's Roadhouse.
Harry waited till Sam and Dean were both out of the car before he spoke, "Now I want to make something very clear to you boys, you especially Dean."
Dean was about to protest being picked on, but the look on Harry's face kept him from saying anything. It was the deadly serious look, just like his Dad had when he was talking about the Demon.
"I want both of you to keep your hands and eyes to yourself. If I even see you thinking about it, I'll castrate you."
Both brothers shivered from the deadly promise in the black haired boy's voice, but a little confused as to what he was talking about. Dean nodding quickly to show his agreement. Harry smiled abruptly, "Good." and with that walked over to the door.
Sam and Dean shared a look, a bit worried how fast Harry's mood could change, before Sam shrugged and followed Harry, Dean walking cautiously after.
Harry unlocked the door with a key, and walked right in, the brothers close behind. Harry spoke without looking at them, "I'm gonna check out back, stay here just in case." And with that he turned and walked out behind the bar, too fast for Dean or Sam to say anything.
Dean turned to Sam, "Just in case of what?"
Sam had nothing to say and just shrugged, before taking a good look at the bar. The place was kinda old, but obviously still got quite a few people coming in to have a drink. Dean wandered closer to the back wall, looking at what appeared to be a man sleeping on the pool table.
He looked back at Sam and mouthed, "Harry's friend?" Sam could only shrug as he wandered through another door, while Dean turned back to the guy. When the black haired man still stayed sleeping after Dean half whispered "Wake up!" The hunter gave up, and wandered back towards the main bar.
He was looking at the drinks behind the bar, when something hard, small and round, pressed into the small of his back. Dean grimaced, "Oh God, please let that be a rifle. . ."
There was the sound of the gun being cocked, "No, I'm just real happy to see you." The voice belonged to a girl, young by the sounds of it, but Dean didn't want to take the chance and try to turn round at the moment.
The girl spoke, "Don't move." The rifle was jabbed into his spine.
"Not moving, copy that." Dean licked his lips, "You know, you should know something miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't wanna put it right against their back . . . 'cause it makes it real easy to do . . ."
Dean spun, and when his side knocked the rifle, he grabbed it out of the girl's hands. Dean reloaded it, causing the round to pop out. The girl was in her early twenties, blonde, beautiful and with a body most girls can only dream of.
"That."
Dean wasn't expecting her to punch him in the face, and the pain along with the surprise caused him to loosen his grip on the rifle, letting the girl take it back and aim it right at his chest. Clutching his nose in pain, Dean called out for his brother. "Sam! I need some help in here."
Sam slowly stepped out of the doorway, hands laced together on top of his head, "Sorry Dean, I can't right now. I'm a little tied up."
Out from behind Sam stepped an older woman, holding a revolver to the back of Sam's head. She kept it trained on him the whole time, not taking her eyes off of him. The woman looked to be in her mid forties, brown hair and had the look of a fighter about her.
It was a tense moment before a familiar voice interrupted, "Honestly, I leave you alone for five minutes and look what happens."
The blond girl turned to see Harry, sitting on the bar, with his legs swinging back and forth, like a child on a swing set. "Harry, you know these guys?"
Harry jumped down off the bar, landing gracefully on his feet, "Yep! Jo, Ellen, meet Sam and Dean Winchester."
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The woman behind Sam, Dean suspected that she was Ellen, lowered her gun, and examined Sam and Dean closely. "Winchester? John's boys?"
Sam and Dean shared a shocked look before they both put their hands down, "Yeah," Dean answered cautiously, not wanting to get hit again.
Ellen laughed softly, "Hey, I'm Ellen, and this is my daughter Jo. I see you've already met Harry."
The blonde – now known as Jo – put her rifle down on the table, and ran over to Harry, smiling, "Har-Bear!"
Harry opened up his arms and enveloped her in a hug, showing that they were the exact same height, "JoJo!"
They both laughed at the same time, while Jo buried her face into the black haired teens neck. Sam shuffled his feet quietly, trying to ignore the growing feeling of jealousy in his stomach. Dean, on the other hand, was lost in his own little perverted world . . .
Creamy pale skin slid against smooth tanned skin, while small slender hands grabbed ebony black hair . . .
"Are you two, you know . . .?"
Dean spoke without thinking, still caught in his little fantasy of Jo and Harry.
Harry and Jo looked over at Dean, before they moved in for a kiss. Dean was spellbound, unable to look away from the two, while Sam was having trouble keeping himself from walking over and tearing Harry away from the blonde girl. When there was barely a centimetre was between them, Harry suddenly looked up and said, with a bright smile on his face, "Nope! JoJo's like a sister to me."
Jo buried her face back into Harry's neck, smirking. She'd seen the looks the two of them had been giving her 'brother' when they thought no one had been looking. Sam's possessive jealousy was cute, but Dean's perverted look was considerably less so. Still it was going to be fun watching the fireworks . . .
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"Here you go."
Ellen handed Dean an icepack wrapped up in a cloth.
"Thanks."
Dean pressed it to his nose, wincing as it pressed on the sore flesh. Despite her size, the girl had a mean right hook.
Sam was sitting on a nearby chair, watching Harry sitting on the bar with his legs swinging again. "How do you know Dad," He focused his gaze on the older woman, curious to how Harry knew these people as well.
Ellen sighed, leaning back against the bar, "Your dad and I are old friends. The last time I spoke to him was a few months ago. I heard he was closing in on the demon."
Dean and Sam shared an incredulous look when Jo didn't look confused at the mention of the demon. Both Jo and Ellen knew about that?
Dean sat up straighter, "Was there an article in Demons Hunters Quarterly? How do you know about the demon? About hunting?"
Ellen smiled and shrugged, "Hey, I just run a saloon, but." Ellen shared a look with Jo, while Harry grinned. "Hunters have been known to pass through from time to time. Your dad used to stop by a lot, but . . . times change." Something in Ellen's eyes dimmed, but Sam elbowed Dean to keep him from pushing the obviously painful subject.
Harry jumped down off of the bar, dusting his ass off, "Where's Ash? I thought that he would of at least said 'hi' to me." Harry said, pouting a little.
Sam frowned in confusion, "Who's Ash?"
Ellen smiled and yelled, "Ash!"
There was a fumbling noise, and Dean and Sam turned around to see the man from the pool table, now known as Ash, struggling around before managing to right himself, "Is it closing time yet?"
Both brothers had incredulous looks on their faces as they looked back at Ellen, "That's Ash?" Sam asked.
Harry was the one to answer, "Don't let the haircut fool you, he's actually a genius." And with that Harry bounced over to tackle hug Ash off of the pool table.
Dean looked like some one had just told him that Santa was actually a serial killer. No way in Hell.
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"That reminds me. I got a case for you."
Ellen pulled a file out from beside a dusty police scanner, and tossed it onto the bar. Harry hopped onto a bar stool, giving Ash a quick hug before doing so. Sam was sitting beside him, and he looked over the file as Harry opened it. The file was incredibly detailed, listing the every scrap of information that could be found about the victim's and any odd occurrences in the town.
Dean, on the other hand, was talking to Jo. "So, how'd you and your Mom get into this stuff anyway?"
Jo smiled, seeing the genuine interest in the man's face, "My Dad. He was a hunter." Jo's smile faltered, and she looked down, the memory still painful, "He passed away."
Dean's smile died as well, "I'm sorry . . ."
Jo pulled herself together, "It was a long time ago. I was just a kid."
Dean could sympathise. He'd only been a kid when the demon had killed his Mom, and even now it still hurt to remember. But another thing he was curious about was niggling at him, "So how'd you meet Harry?"
Jo smiled, eyes sparkling with something that made Dean squirm, "About two years ago, Bobby called and said he had a brat that needed a job. Mom said 'sure, send him on over'. Harry ended becoming one of the family, just like Ash." Jo's eyes were far away now, obviously reliving happy memories.
Dean opened his mouth, but the thought of trying to get in with Jo made him uncomfortable. He frowned, it couldn't be because of . . .? Jo just smirked, that annoying sparkle back in her eyes.
"Dean!"
Sam's voice crashed Dean's train of thought, and he shook his head, as though he was trying to clear water from his ears. "What is it, Sammy?"
Harry bounced over to the older brother and started tugging on his arm excitedly, "Come on, we got a hunt!" He dragged Dean out the door, yelling good bye to everyone inside. Sam followed behind, openly grinning at the look of confusion on his brothers face. The younger Winchester brother waved good bye and closed the door behind him.
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The three men were in the car before Dean gathered his wits together, "Who decided that we're going on a hunt with you?" Dean wasn't really against the idea, but it was the principal of the thing to protest a loss of choice.
Harry grinned, "Ask your brother, and then call your Dad, and tell him I'm not bringing you home in time for curfew."
Dean turned to look back at Sam, shifting uncomfortably at his bodies reactions to Harry's leer. Sam squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as well, "He gave me the puppy dog eyes, Dean."
Dean smirked, slightly mollified, and pulled out his phone. He dialled his Dad's number and let it ring. After a few minutes, it rang out and went to voice mail. Dean stared at his phone in confusion. Dad always answered his phone when he wasn't on a hunt, and he wouldn't have had time to already start a hunt while they'd been gone . . .
Dean tried Bobby, Sam watching with a hint of worry. Bobby picked up after two rings, "Bobby here."
"Hey Bobby, its Dean. Where's Dad?"
Bobby sighed, "He left, I dunno where to."
"What! What do you mean he left?" Sam was leaning forward now, worry and confusion now clear on his face. Even Harry was paying attention now.
"The argument got a little bit personal, and John just blew up and left, took the Colt with him too."
Dean rubbed his mouth, conscious of the half healed cut on his forehead, "Ok, ok. He'll come back once he blows off some steam." He didn't sound so confident, and he could hear Harry snort quietly.
Dean spoke to Bobby for a few more minutes and then hung up. Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean cut him off, "Not now Sammy."
The younger brother frowned, but leaned back anyway in his seat anyway. Dean turned to Harry, "What are we hunting for?"
Harry smiled wryly, "The file didn't say. Your Dad's journal didn't help at all either."
Both brothers scowled a little at the mention of their Dad, and Harry quickly moved on, "So anyway, the only survivors of the two sets murders so far, have been the kids. Both kids said that they let the clown come in, and then it tore Mommy and Daddy to shreds. Police doesn't know what to do, 'cause no human has the strength to do that."
Sam took over the explanation, "Both families had gone to the same carnival the day of each of their murders, Coopers Carnival. Every single one of the employees has an alibi, plus the kids all said that the clown disappeared into thin air."
Dean smirked, "Well, I know what your thinking Sammy. Why did it have to be clowns?"
Harry looked at Sam in the rear view mirror, and mouthed clowns? Sam flushed, wanting to punch Dean in the head. "Dean . . ."
Dean laughed, "Come on, you still bust out crying every time you see Ronald MacDonald on the Tv."
By now Sam was mortified, bad enough that Dean had brought this up, but in front of Harry? Now that was going to far . . .
"What's wrong with being afraid of clowns?"
Dean and Sam turned to look at Harry, "Um, well, nothing."
Harry just smirked, while Sam turned back to Dean, unwilling to let him get out unscathed, "Well at least I'm not afraid of flying!"
"Planes crash!"
"And apparently, clowns kill."
The brothers dropped the subject, scowling lightly at each other. Harry interrupted the tense silence, "The file said that the murders have happened before. Sam?"
Sam took the hint and started to explain again, "In 1981, three sets murders happened with the same MO, all three families went to the Bunker Brothers circus the day of their deaths, in three different locales."
Dean frowned, "It's weird though . . . usually if its a spirit, its bound to specific house or a town, so how's this one moving around?"
"Cursed object?" Harry piped in.
Sam's brows furrowed as he thought about it, "The spirit attaches itself and moves from carnival to carnival . . . it sounds possible."
"Yay, a scavenger hunt," Harry's voice was dripping with sarcasm.
Dean spoke with a condescending baby voice, "Doesn't poor, wittle Harry want to play?"
"Not in a scavenger hunt." Harry's voice was tired, and both brothers looked at him curiously, but he refused to elaborate. The rest of the drive was quiet after that.
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Sam stood there nervously, as a tiny lady in a sort of clown suit gave him a measuring look. Eventually, she smirked and walked off.
Harry and Dean walked over, coming back from asking around about the latest murders. Sam couldn't help giving Harry a look over while the younger looking boy was talking to Dean. Tight black jeans, a long sleeved T-shirt and worn looking runners, Sam had warm bursts of arousal that he brutally squished. Now wasn't the time and Harry probably wasn't even interested, blatant flirting aside. It was similar to what Dean did, but Harry's just seemed . . . playful rather than lustful. It was the only way to describe it.
"Did you get her number?"
Sam jumped a tiny bit, reaching for the gun hidden at the small of his back before he stopped himself. Dean had snuck up behind him when he wasn't paying attention, while Harry was leaning against the fence and watching Sam's face curiously. The look of sheer disgust on his face was clear enough, did he really hate clowns that much?
"More murders?"
Dean stopped smiling, "Another couple last night were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them."
"Who fingered a clown."
Harry choked on his breath and slipped, falling on his ass. What?
Dean just gave Sam a weirded-out look, Sam just returning a What? Look, completely oblivious to what he had just said. Dean just shook his head, "Yes, a clown. Who apparently vanished into thin air."
Harry pulled himself up and brushed the dirt and straw off of himself. Dean and Sam both watched for a second, unaware of the similarity between their thoughts, "Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like . . . looking for a needle in a pile of needles. It could be anything."
"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything." He turned to look at Harry again, "But we only have two."
Harry smiled brightly, "Aww, how sweet. But don't worry, I can sense haunted objects and spirits, so I'll probably have better luck than you at finding something, and not looking like a creep." Harry's smile was all sugar and sweetness.
Sam opened his mouth to ask something, but Dean cut him off, "Well I guess we'll just have to blend in." Sam and Harry followed his gaze to a sign over by a red and white tent, reading 'Help Wanted'.
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Sam was still laughing quietly as the three were led into Mr. Cooper's wagon. Dean had managed to insult two of the circus employees in about a minute. Harry on the other hand, was quiet for once. There had been something strange about that blind man. It had felt like he had been . . . watching them, but he had taken off his glasses and his eyes were cloudy and obviously damaged.
Harry shrugged, maybe it was just paranoia, it wouldn't be the first time he'd over reacted to something. The war had left him on edge with most situations and he'd never lost that, still wary of people who'd survived the war. He scowled, the uncomfortable train of thought leading into dangerous memories. The black haired boy shook his reminiscing away and tried to pay attention to the present.
Mr. Cooper, a wizened old man with a large bald patch exposing most of his head, walked over to his desk and sat down behind it. "You boys picked a hell of a time to join the circus. Take a seat"
Dean, the first one behind Mr. Cooper, took one look at the chairs and power walked to the only normal one. He sat down and smirked at Sam, like the cat that got the cream.
Sam glowered at him and gingerly sat down on the very edge of the other chair. The chair Sam sat down in was beautifully made . . . in the shape of a clown. A rather creepy clown with a top hat to be exact.
It was only after Sam had sat down that he realised that Harry didn't have a chair. The youngest Winchester was about to get up and offer the chair to the black haired boy, when Harry stopped him by sitting gracefully on his knee, forcing Sam to wrap an arm around the other man's waist.
Suddenly Sam was the smirking one, while Dean glared jealously at his brother. To his credit, Mr. Cooper didn't even bat an eye at the unusual seating arrangement, continuing on with what he was saying, "We've been in all kinds of local trouble over these murders."
Dean finally looked away from Sam and Harry, "What do you mean?"
"A couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. Soo, you three ever work the circuit before?"
Sam looked at Dean, face showing confidence but his eyes showing panic over the cover story. "Uhh . . ."
"Yep! Worked for the Lunisons Circus last year, all the way through Texas." Harry smiled at the older man, ignoring the brothers.
"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper sounded doubtful.
Dean opened his mouth, but was cut off by Harry again, "Just general cleaning. Me and the boys are pretty good at keeping things nice and tidy."
The old man frowned for a second, but faced with Harry's winning smile, sighed and nodded. "Alright, I'll have Boris show you around. I hear any trouble from you boys . . ." He trailed off, leaving them with a clear idea of what would happen.
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Sam grimaced.
When Harry had convinced Mr. Cooper to give them jobs, he hadn't quite been expecting being a trash man. He had the wonderful job of walking around the circus and picking up trash with a trash claw.
On one hand it was tedious and sometimes disgusting. But on the other hand it gave him a great opportunity to walk around and scan for EMF with the detector hidden in his coat pocket.
He glanced over to the Funhouse. Maybe . . .
Dean shook the trash bag, trying to shake the last bits of crap from the bottom. He hated this hunt!
His phone rang and he dropped the bin bag and yanked it out, "What?"
"Hey man," Sam's voice was strained.
"What's the matter, you sound like you just saw a clown." Dean laughed softly at his own joke. Poking fun at Sam was one of his favourite activities after all.
"Very funny." Sam stomped out of the Funhouse, a little jittery from things jumping out at him. "Skeleton actually."
Dean turned serious, "Like a real human skeleton?"
"In the Funhouse. Listen I was thinking . . . what if the spirit isn't attached to an object, what if it's attached itself to its own remains?"
Dean started walking towards the Funhouse, now completely serious. Sam might have been on to something. "Did the bones give of EMF?"
"Well, no . . . but-"
"Dean cut his brother off, "We should check it out anyway, call Harry and see if he's found anything with his magical 'Voodoo' sensor . . . anyway I'm coming to you."
Dean closed his phone but some one grabbed his arm before he could put it away. He spun around and it was the blind guy holding onto his arm.
"What are you doing here kid?"
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Sam and Harry had been waiting for fifteen minutes before Dean showed up. Harry had been running the lights in the main tent, and hadn't detected anything either.
As Dean got closer, he could hear Harry speaking, in a sing song tone, "~Why are we waiting, Slowly dehydrating~"
He could see Sam's eye twitching, meaning Harry had probably been singing since he got there. Sam quickly moved over to Dean when he spotted his brother. "What took you so long?" Harry was smiling innocently in the background.
Dean growled in frustration, "Long story-"
"Mommy, look at the clown!"
The three men hurried over to the little girl and her mother, and looked over to where the girl was pointing. There was no one there. They all shared a look as the girl's mother led her away.
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Dean Sam and Harry watched as the family of three entered their home. The group had followed them when they left the circus, all the way back to their house.
"That was your brilliant lie? You told him the truth." Harry's voice was filled with disbelief. Sam was just staring at his brother, to stunned to speak.
"Well it worked, didn't it? And I told him an urban legend about a phantom killer clown, I never said it was real." Dean was the tiniest bit defensive.
Harry just shook his head and laughed softly, "It's a wonder any one believes you Dean, really."
Dean ignored him, and pulled out his shotgun before Sam pushed it down and hissed at him to put it away. "Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in 81 and their evil clown apocalypse . . . guess what?"
"What?" Sam and Harry spoke at the same time, giving the other a strange look afterwards.
"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brother's as their lot manager."
Sam ahhed in comprehension, "So you think whatever the spirit's attached itself to, he just brought it with him?"
"Something like that."
But Harry was shaking his head, "I don't think so."
Sam turned to him, "Why not? It would make perfect sense."
"Wouldn't we have detected it? Especially if it was in his wagon. I got a felling that its something else."
Dean turned back to the house, seeing the lights switch off, "Only one way to find out . . ."
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It was a few hours before the lights switched back on, and Sam and Dean were both asleep. Harry, however, was wide awake. The black haired boy had his senses fully extended, feeling for anything spiritual or magical in the surrounding area.
He nudged both brothers with his shoulders, "Some things coming." Whatever it was, it was . . . difficult to detect. Harry could barely sense it, and when he could feel it, it was faint and wispy to his senses.
All three of them watched the little girl cross the living room in her nightie. They stepped put of the car, and started to sneak around to the back door.
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As the girl led the clown down the hall way, holding onto its hand, Sam, Dean and Harry hid, waiting for the right moment. When the clown had turned slightly, they attacked. Harry grabbed the girl and pulled her away, while Sam stepped in between them in the clown.
Dean aimed, and fired hitting the thing square in the chest. The thing's inhuman screams harmonised perfectly with the little girl's frightened screams. It landed with a heavy thump on the floor.
The girl kept screaming in panic, as Dean reloaded. The clown started to rise from the floor, a blank look on its heavily make up coated face. Whatever it was, it was solid.
Dean brought the gun up again, but the clown turned and dived out through the glass door, giving another screech as it smashed through. Whatever it was, it shimmered out of view as it ran. Harry quickly sprinted after it, nimbly dodging the shattered glass in the door frame.
Sam and Dean were left alone, Sam holding onto the little girl's arm as the parents ran into the room. "What's going on here?" The Dad and Mom took one look at the boy's and started shouting, telling them to get out and to leave their daughter alone.
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Sam and Dean found Harry a few streets away, lying on the side walk, panting lightly. Both of them stopped to watch the young man's still form. Harry's T-shirt had ridden up, and revealed creamy, pale hip bones and a dark treasure trail leading south, as well as some nicely toned defined abs.
Sam spoke first, trying to suppress his blush, while Dean just blatantly stared, "Did you get it?"
"Nuh. Whatever it is, when it does it's little disappearing act, it cloaks or something and I can't sense it."
Harry sat up, still a little worn out from the chase. Whatever it was, it was a sneaky son of a bitch. It picked places it wouldn't leave tracks, and it moved quieter than Ollivander. Creepy old man.
The brothers hoisted him up and they all jumped into the car, driving away before anyone could see their number plates.
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The boys decided to sleep in the car. They hadn't booked into a motel and quite frankly at this point, none of them could bothered anyway. It was warm enough that they wouldn't need blankets.
Harry volunteered to sleep on the back seat, and the Winchesters leaned their seats back until they were almost perfectly horizontal. It wouldn't be the most uncomfortable place they had ever slept . . .
In the morning Harry gave Ellen a call, trying to see if she knew anything about a creature that could turn invisible and dressed up as a clown.
Dean and Sam sat in a diner, watching as Harry paced outside while on the phone. Sam could see Dean watching Harry, in a way that created slight tinges of jealousy. It seemed that Sam wasn't the only one attracted to the enigmatic 'Master of Death'. Sam pushed the thought, and the feelings, to the back of his mind. He could worry about it later. Dean's thoughts, once again, followed the same train of thought.
"How come Dad never told us about Ellen?" Sam was the first one to break the silence as their breakfast was served.
"Maybe they had some sort of falling out. Ellen did say that Dad used to stop by a lot. And you saw the way that she looked when she said that."
They might have loved their Dad, but that didn't mean that they were unaware of the way that he acted to other people. Dean grimaced at the reminder of his Dad's words before they left.
Neither said anything, lost in their own thoughts, but they both looked up when Harry sat down at the table, looking immensely satisfied. "Rakshasa."
Dean gave him a strange look, "Gesundheit?"
Harry was so close to face palming, "No, Dean. It's the name of the creature."
Dean gave a silent 'o'. Sam asked the obvious question, "What is it?"
"Its an ancient Hindu creature that feeds on human flesh. It has a human form, but it can turn invisible. They do have a draw back though. They have to be invited into some one's home or they can't enter. Much like most vampire myths."
Dean took a break from eating, "So they dress up like something friendly, in this case a clown, and get kids to invite them in?"
Harry smiled, "Yep! Rakshasa are disgusting creatures. They sleep on a bed of insects and they feed every twenty to thirty years. No normal weapon can kill them, except for a pure brass dagger."
Sam nodded his head in understanding, "So that explains the connection between the Bunker Brothers and Coopers."
Dean had a pensive look on his face, "Hey, who do we know that worked both shows?"
Harry and Sam answered at the same time again, "Cooper."
Dean gave them a look, "You two are starting to creep me out." He shook his head and went back to his breakfast. "Did either of you see of you see that photo in Cooper's wagon?"
Harry answered, as Sam's mouth was full of egg, "The one of the Bunker Brother's employees? Yeah, why?"
"One of them looked just like Cooper didn't he?"
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It was night time when the three of them snuck back into the circus. Dean and Harry went to try and get a brass blade off of the blind knife thrower, while Sam went to go and check what kind of mattress Mr. Cooper slept on.
Sam quickly picked the lock on the wagon, looking around to make sure that no one was coming his way. He slipped inside and crossed to the bed, flicking open a knife as he went. He knelt by the worn mattress and slit it open, pulling at the sides of the gash to peer inside.
There was nothing but fluffy cotton and springs. Sam froze as the sound of a gun being cocked rang out through the wagon. "What do you think you're doing?"
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Harry and Dean followed the blind man into the tent. The dagger thrower tapped his walking stick along the wall until it hit the trunk, "Check my trunk, there's one or two in there."
Harry kept his eye on the creepy man. The feeling was back . . . and it was setting him on edge. Now he was certain that the older man was hiding something.
Dean crouched down and yanked open the trunk, pulling aside some old clothes to reveal . . . a red wig and a clown outfit. Both boy's stared in shock and whipped their heads around to face the 'blind man'.
"You?" Dean's voice was quiet, still in disbelief.
The Rakshasa let the cane fall to the ground and pulled off its glasses, showing perfectly normal eyes. Eyes which slowly shifted to lime green, with a slit pupil. "Me." The creature waved and then shimmered out of view.
Dean jiggled the door knob and jumped as two knifes buried themselves into the door frame. He ducked as Harry was thrown through the air, crashing straight through the door. The older Winchester sprinted out, helping Harry to his feet as he went and then dragged the dazed boy with him. Harry had tried a bone crushing hex, but the magic had just splashed off the invisible creature, leaving Harry shocked and open to attack.
They ran through the carnival, dodging around other workers as they went. "Hey."
Sam ran out from between two tents and Harry and Dean skidded to a stop. "So Cooper thinks I'm some sort of deviant pervert, but it's not him."
"Yeah, we realise that! Its the creepy blind guy!" Harry had recovered from his face-to-face meeting with the door by now.
"Did either of you get the brass blades?"
Dean answered, looking around wildly for any sign of the Rakshasa. "No, its just been one of those days."
Sam stared at the nearby Funhouse, "I got an idea, come on!"
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The Funhouse lights were still on when the three hunters entered, causing the neon door ways to glow.
Dean and Harry followed Sam as he quickly strode through the carnival attraction, not wanting to get lost in the confusing maze. Sam hurried through a doorway, but just after Harry stepped through, it closed, blocking Dean off from the other two.
"Dean!" Harry shouted, pounding on the door, he tried unlocking spells, but the door was just being held by the electric rollers, not locked. He'd try a blasting spell, but he might hurt Dean . . .
Mocking laughter rang out, and Dean started to panic a little. If only he could see the bastard.
"Dean, find the pipe organ!" Dean shouted out an affirmative, and started to wander away from the sealed door, Sam and Harry doing the same on their side of the door.
It didn't take long for the two to find the pipe organ, brass tubes leaking hot steam, while playing a creepy carnival tune. Sam reached out to break one of the tubes off, but gave a hiss when his hand was burnt.
Harry looked over his shoulder at him, eyes filled with worry, "You ok?"
"Yeah, they're just a bit hot, any sign of Dean?" Sam pulled his sleeve over his hand and snapped one of the closer tubes off with a loud crack.
Harry was saved from having to answer by Dean coming around the corner, relieved to see them. "Hey!"
Harry ran over and gave the older Winchester a quick hug, "Do you know where it is."
Dean shook his head, letting Harry step back from the hug. "I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around or something?"
Dean backed over to the wall, trying to leave no blind spots. A dagger flew through the air and pinned his jacket to the wall, burying itself deeply. Harry quickly ran over and tried to pull it free, but three more knives flew out from the corridor and pinned both of Harry's hands and one of Dean's.
Harry immediately started to struggle, without his hands to guide his magic he wouldn't be able to do anything. Dean's body couldn't help but react to the lithe, toned body writhing against him, despite the situation and he almost whimpered.
He looked up and saw a lever labelled 'B.K. Gases'. He reached out and gave it a yank, causing mist to fill the room from the pipe organ.
Dean saw something moving through the mist and called out, "Sam, behind you!"
Sam jabbed the pipe backwards as hard as he could, and felt it punch into something solid behind him. He let go and turned around to see a flickering form with lime green, slitted eyes clutching at the brass tube. A trickle of blood poured from the tube, and with a deafening screech the Rakshasa fell back and shimmered away, leaving a pile of clothes and a bloody brass tube.
Dean gave a sigh, and with both him and Harry pulling on the knives, they managed to get them out, Dean still embarrassingly hard. They walked over to Sam, and Dean groaned, "I hate Funhouses."
Harry leaned against Sam, "I'm with ya there, Dean."
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It took them the rest of the night to drive all the way back to the roadhouse, Dean driving this time. There were more hunters in the bar this time, cleaning their weapons and drinking quietly alone and in small groups.
Ellen brought over a beer for Sam and Dean, passing Harry lemonade at the same time. "You did one hell of a job boys." She smiled proudly at Harry, like a mother whose child had just come first in the little athletics.
Another hunter called out for another round and Ellen moved away with a pat on Harry's arm. Jo gave Harry a kiss on the cheek and walked away too, leaving the three alone at the bar.
Dean asked the question that was on both of the Winchester brother's minds, "So, Harry. We did pretty well together on this hunt . . ." He trailed off awkwardly. Harry just raised one eye brow, unconsciously imitating a snarky potions professor.
Sam tried to pick up where Dean had left off, "We were wondering if you'd like to come with us." Harry kept his eyebrow raised, causing Sam to flush with the double meaning.
Harry laughed, the clear sound ringing across the room, "Sorry Sam, I couldn't help it. Yeah I'd love to come with you guys."
Dean almost choked on his beer as Harry laughed again, while Sam's flush travelled down his neck.
"But first we gotta go back to Bobby's. I got some stuff that I'll need."
Dean stood, draining the last of his beer. "Alright, you ready to go?" Both brothers were excited now, wanting to get back on the road with Harry.
"Yep!"
As the three men walked out, they gave Jo and Ellen hugs, and Harry managed to catch Ash in one last tackle hug, causing both Winchesters to scowl with jealousy while Jo smirked. Ellen called out as they were walking through the door, "Remember I always got a spare couple of rooms, if you need them! Don't be a stranger!"
"Will do! Seeya soon." Harry waved as they climbed into his car and pulled out of the car park. Within moments they were cruising down the highway, sitting in a comfortable silence. At the moment, life was good.
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Muahaha!
Finished, Finally! This is my longest chapter ever . . . I'm so proud.
Anywhoo, you know the drill, review, tell me what you think. Are my characters staying in character? Am I following the episodes too closely? Does Harry seem too weak or too powerful? Did I do well with the relationship with the Harvelle's? Please tell me what you think
Thanks for reading
Phoenix
