Sorry this has taken so long! I go to school a few thousand miles from where I live-getting between there and here is always hectic. Anyway, I split this chapter into two parts, just 'cause, and I'll post both today, and the next few chapters over the next few days-I promise this time. =) I already have them written and uploaded. Thanks for waiting! Let me know if you have any questions/comments! Speaking of which, I'll be catching up to review replies in a minute.

You'll notice some of the events follow the show, others don't.

Winchesters still ain't mine!

Love + Peace

CA

Lily looked back and forth between her older brothers, her face an almost comical mask of incredulity. Hell, it would have been downright hilarious, if Dean didn't loathe this situation with every fiber of his being. Still, he didn't flinch when those suspicious green eyes settled on him.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked. She was talking about Sam, but she wouldn't look at him, not even when he released a frustrated sigh.

Dean smirked. "That's what I've been trying to figure out for 23 years, Lil."

The three Winchesters were sharing a table at Harvelle's Roadhouse. It was 9 AM, and they had the place to themselves. After meeting Jo, Ellen's daughter (who regarded them all, especially Dean, with equal parts distance and awe), and Ash, the mullet-wearing, ex-MIT genius, the three had crashed in a nearby motel. Now they were back, discussing Lily's research on the thing killing couples around town. Or at least that's what they had been doing, until Sam voiced his theory on what the thing was, and how to take it down…using all three sets of Winchester hands.

Lily was not appeased. "I'm serious, Dean." Then, as if realizing the irony in her words—serious Dean—she turned to Sam. "What's wrong with you? Is this a game? A joke? A cry for help? I know Dad told me to look out for you guys, but—"

"Lily, just wait. Hear me out on this," Sam protested, hands up in a gesture of surrender. Lily looked like she was going to argue, then gave a frustrated huff and fixed both her brothers with a glare somewhere between expectant and skeptical.

"You have two minutes. Go."

"Look, Lily. It's like this…" Sam started evasively. "You…we…well, I…I mean…Dean…"

"We need your help, Lily. Simple as that." Sam shot Dean an irritated look at being interrupted. "Right, because things were going so well for you, Sherlock."

"Dean, that doesn't even make sense," Lily started.

Dean ignored her. "All I'm saying is with Dad gone, Sammy and I are down one man."

"Are you calling me a man?"

"Well, if the shoe fits…"

Sam took over again. "Lily, if you don't want to come—"

"Are you kidding me? Of course I want to come. I just want to know why I'm coming."

"Because we need your help," Dean interjected, as if stating the color of the sky.

Lily was skeptical. "You've never needed my help before. Hell, you have needed my help before, and I've never heard a word about it. Why now? What's going on that you're not telling me?"

Dean remained quiet. Sam sighed and looked out the window. Lily rolled her eyes. "Forget it," she said, standing to depart. "If you can't tell me—"

"It's a distraction," Sam said finally. He ignored the look of betrayal Dean sent his way.

Lily glanced back, suspicious. "A what?"

"A distraction. From…from Dad."

"Dad's dead."

"Yeah, and leaving you alone all day to think about it while we're out hunting isn't fair."

Lily looked at both of her brother's. Dean avoided her gaze, but Sam held it steady. She frowned and sat again. "You want to take me hunting so I can forget about Dad's death?"

Sam shook his head. "Not forget…just…not dwell. Again, Lil, if you don't want to go—"

"No," Lily said a little too quickly. Dean looked back. Now it was Lily's turn to avoid eye contact. "No," she amended softly. "I…I want to go. I do. Really."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Then what's wrong? You know we won't let anything happen to you."

Lily laughed, but it was a sad sound. "Yeah, I know. It's not that."

"Then what? You look like someone drowned your cat."

Lily remained silent. What was she supposed to say? That she knew all too well they were bringing her because she was doing a shitty job at hiding her grief? That she felt a little guiltier every time she saw Sam stare off into the distance, or Dean give a smile that didn't touch his eyes? That she knew she was failing her father by letting her brothers down?

"Lily?"

No.

She looked up, then grinned, and when she spoke, she almost managed to convince herself. "Just trying to figure out how best to avoid those bruises from kickback," she said brightly.

They both stared at her, and for a moment, she thought they'd seen through her lie. Maybe they did. If so, then Lily appreciated Dean's cover.

"We'll buy you one of those silk shirts with the shoulder pads," he said, tossing down a few bills to pay for their half-eaten lunch. "C'mon, Princess. Never woulda guessed my sister was made of china."

Lily rolled her eyes and punched her older brother in the arm as the two stood to depart. Only Sam remained seated, watching his siblings carefully. Lily looked back at him, and knew he wasn't fooled. She caught his eyes, held them for a long second, then smiled. Sam didn't. She ignored it.

"C'mon, Sammy. If we start now, we can lock Dean out of his own car."

It was called a rakshasa, and it was the first Lily had ever heard of one.

It was a shape-shifter, which had to feed every twenty to thirty years. It was here in town with the circus, taking the shape of a clown to lure in children and kill their parents. While Dean spared no liberties in tormenting his younger brother about his coulrophobia (he'd Googled 'fear of clowns', Lily knew, just to sound smart while he tortured Sam), Lily had been hard at work with Ellen, researching. The last time anyone had seen a string of killings like that was in the early 80s.

The circus had been around then, too.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," Lily said, elbows propped against the driver and passenger's seats of the Impala where her brother's sat. "It's not bound by location or item because it travels with the circus. And the only way to kill it is with a blade of pure bronze."

It was just after midnight, and the three were making their way to the half-shut down carnival. The killings had scared them off, apparently. Especially with the 'clown' allegations, though most people shrugged them off as the delusional mutterings of shocked and orphaned children.

Lily grinned suddenly and turned to Sam. "Sammy? How you holdin' up, kiddo?"

Dean caught on immediately and grinned back at Lily. Sam, however, looked confused…and a little defensive. He looked back and forth between his siblings. "I'm sorry?"

"You know…we're going to hunt a killer clown," Lily went on casually. "So, you gotta be crawlin' in your skin, right?"

"What?"

"Aw, c'mon, Sammy, you've had a thing with clowns since before Lily was born," Dean chimed in, smirking. "Look, if you wanna stay in the car for this one, I'm sure Lily's got it…"

Lily snorted under her breath. Cue Sammy-Bitchface in three…two…one…

"Shut up."

"Aw, leave him alone, Dean," Lily pouted, reaching over Sam's chair to muss his hair. "He's just nervous."

"Lily, I will lock you in this car. Don't push me."

Lily raised an eyebrow, wiggling her fingers. "Gee, it'd be such a tragedy if I didn't have…you know…hands."

"Alright, alright, kids," Dean said as Sam turned to reach over his seat at Lily, who quickly escaped to the other side of the car. "We're here."

Lily's smile disappeared instantly. Dean, already climbing out of the car to unload the trunk, didn't notice. Sam did.

"You alright?"

Lily swallowed, then put on a smile, nodding unconvincingly. "Yeah, fine. Just…it's colder out here than I thought it would be."

"It's June."

"Crazy weather, huh?" Lily replied, climbing out of the car to go help Dean.

Sam stepped in front of her and put both hands on her shoulders. "Lily, if you don't want to do this, it's not too late—"

"I want to do it, Sam. I'm just…it's my first time, alright? Gimme a break. I'm not Dean."

Sam smirked. "Thank God." Then his voice softened. "You'll be fine, Lily. You'll be better than fine. You'll be great. You've been practicing for this your whole life. The only different now is that you're older. You're ready. And either way, Dean and I'll be here. No matter what. Nothing is gonna happen. Not to us, not to you."

Lily swallowed, shifted her eyes toward the ground and took a deep breath. Then she looked up and met his eyes. "I know, Sammy. Thanks."

He shrugged and nodded in the direction of the main office. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Lily answered, leading the way.

"Oh, Lil," Sam chided gently. "You're better than clichés." He then swore as Lily kicked him in the shin before running ahead to meet Dean.

Lily swore as the threw down the old file of pictures, receipts, and letters, scattering loose papers over the dusty floor of Hindel's office.

"Lily! What the hell?" Dean bent to pick up the papers. "Lil, we got another hour, maybe two here tops. Leavin' the place like your old bedroom ain't exactly the best way to go about things."

"Two hours. Exactly," Lily said, exasperated, sitting down on the chest she'd just spent twenty useless minutes shifting through with her chin in her hand and ignoring the jibe. "We've been here almost three hours, and found absolutely nothing. It's that guy, the ringleader, I'm sure it is, I did all the research—"

"Lily, sometimes this is how it goes," Sam said, and Lily heard a smile in his voice. She turned, annoyed.

"What?" she snapped.

"I'm just wondering what you think we do out here. All action, all the time? This isn't CSI. I know you do the heavy research, but just because we come out here—"

"Oh, God, don't patronize me, Sam," Lily said irritably. It was late, and she was tired and cranky. "You know how many times you and Dean and Dad came home with the shit beaten out of you. Don't tell me you never find anything."

"Not never," Dean corrected, handing her the pile of papers. "Just not right away. Anyway, here."

Lily took the stack but didn't look at it. "Whatever. I've been looking through this pile. There's nothing here, Dean." She flipped aimlessly through the photos and papers. "Nothing about Hindel. Just pictures, and contracts, and…wait." She frowned, pulling out a single piece of paper, browned with age, then two others. Each was more dog-eared than the last. The other papers slipped from her hand to scatter on the floor. Dean groaned. Lily ignored him, scanning the piece of paper with a look of growing concern.

"Did we find anyone else to stick with the circus through the last fifty years?" she asked.

"No…" Sam said slowly. "Just the Hindel guy. But—"

"But here's his birth certificate. And his Dad's. It's legit," Lily said, flashing two pieces of paper without taking her eyes off the third. "Apparently, father and son just look a helluva lot alike. But this…this one's the knife-thrower's. It's…different than the others. And dated for one hundred years ago."

Sam frowned, and Dean dropped the papers for a third time, coming to join their sister. "What?" Dean asked, at the same time Sam said, "It's lacking the water-print seal. That's a fake."

"So…?" Dean started.

"So something's up with the old blind guy," Lily finished for him.

"Oh, my," interrupted a third, effectively freezing the blood of all three Winchesters. "It appears you've discovered my secret."

On to part two!