Supernatural
"The Other Side of the Tracks"
Everybody Loves a Clown
"I'm sorry Sam. Did you actually say a killer clown?" While it was hard to hear Sam's muffled voice over the phone anyway, she was sure he had mentioned a killer clown. His voice and confirmation made it clear he didn't believe it either. "I swear, I leave for five seconds and you boys get more interesting cases than I have." She buried the shovel into the fresh earth of a recently buried individual, Markus Vrekoff, as Sam made idle conversation with her. She was clothed in some dark brown, thick overalls and a long sleeve blue shirt. She had a fur hat that cover her ears and framed her face, making it almost childish in appearance. On the side of the grave, she had left a thick coat, with a plaid design and fur neckline. "Well, I tracked a pack of Wolves in Austria and now I'm taking care of a local haunting. This guy that I'm digging up has been haunting an entire city for a little less than a year. Yeah, I know. Causing suicides and damage, murders, you know typical, ghost-y stuff. But I'm surprised at the cell phone reception out here. I mean, I couldn't even call when I got to Moscow. Now I'm standing in the middle of nowhere, knee deep in a grave, and I have reception." As her body moved to make the repetitious motion of shovelling away dirt, she hesitated, hearing Sam speaking in hushed tones regarding John's death. "Sam, Dean doesn't want to have his hand held and walked through this. I know this is hard and we will figure out what happened but, in the meantime, just let him work and figure it out for himself. My main concern is that, when he does actually face the pain, something or someone might get hurt so keep an eye on him."
As Emily turned back to her business, she saw Markus standing above her, looking down on her with creepy ghost eyes. She looked at him oddly, tilting her head slightly to one side, just before her attempted to grab her and disappeared. "Salt water bath, bitch!" she yelled, dancing a bit in the grave. "Oh, sorry Sam, that ghost just tried to attack me but I soaked my clothes in holy water and salt before I came out. Yeah, I know! Good plan, right?" Suddenly she heard Dean enter the room. All she could hear is 'Is that Emily? Give me the phone!' Emily laughed as Dean appeared to muscle his way onto the phone. "Hey Dean." She greeted, feeling cold suddenly as the ghost was making yet another appearance around her. "Alright dad. Do you also want me home by eleven?" She asked. Being away from Dean was always the same: she would call Sam to avoid Dean; Dean would find out, Dean would demand to know where she was, when she was coming back, and every other question one could think of. She felt the gust of an attacking ghost as it vanished. "I'm hanging up now." She stated with a smile on her face. "Just hurry back…" Her face went a bit solemn for a moment. "I always do." She murmured in response, quickly hitting the end call button on her phone and tossing it onto her jacket. The rules of the game had changed, that was for sure. She was feeling like she had a family with Sam and Dean and every time one of them missed her, it broke her heart and made her miss them. Her shovel sounded as it connected with the coffin, the wood being revealed as rotted as she scraped the dirt away. Once she had opened it and revealed the body, the brunette hopped out of the hole, throwing the salt and lighter fluid in, thoroughly dousing the body. The ghost made his final appearance, staring her down. "Look, I get it: You're alone with no one able to hear you. You're scared and angry. But it's time to look for greener pastures. Maybe, this way, you can." Why she was trying to talk down an angry spirit, she didn't know. She lit a match and tossed it in, the body catching fire real quickly. It was a fairly anti-climactic end to her job but the spirit was vanquished. She pushed some of the dirt back into the grave, not bothering with it too much. Someone else would take care of it. Or maybe that was the 'lazy American' attitude taking over. One way or another, she slung her shovel over her shoulder, grabbed her phone and jacket, and left.
Emily had intended to just buy a ticket for a flight on the way home but, somehow, she knew she had to visit Angela. She had been teleporting her way across West Asia and all of Europe until, finally, she reached the little historical site where Angela and others were buried. The grass where she normally stood was brown and dead in the shape of two footprints. Emily moved forward and took her usual spot, her feet filling the marks perfectly. It was kind of cold in England today so she was happy she had her Russian fur hat on still. She wrapped one arm around her slim waist and the other cross over and held her shoulder. "We never move on but we learn to live with the pain. I've learned to live with the pain of losing you." She murmured quietly. "I love you but I'm beginning to become part of a family now. Maybe…Maybe one day, I could even…" She stopped herself, knowing having another child could never happen for her. How could she face the slightest chance of losing her baby. She would never recover. And who could she have it with? Not a human. Everything in the world was a monster these days. She sighed and smiled a bit to herself. "Well, let's not go too far, I suppose. I didn't bring you flowers, darling." Emily crouched down and gently kissed her finger tips before placing them against the gravemarker. "I've been spending a little too much time in graveyards lately." Angela's name was very worn down from the last few centuries of erosion but it was still clear to Emily as she traced out the letters with her finger. Emily didn't want to be sad but she felt as though she couldn't go on with life without remembering Angela and visiting her. Every time she said it was the last time she would visit. But it never was. She lost her daughter but the pain was as fresh as the soil beneath her nails. "Well, I love you, baby. I'll see you next time." She looked to her left and right quickly, as if she were checking before crossing the road, and then the spot was empty, leaving only the two footprint marks behind.
Emily sat on the porch with Bobby as she listened to Dean destroying the Impala, having happily shed her heavy Russian clothes and was now wearing just jeans and a green tank top. She couldn't see him but she could hear the metal hitting metal and feel the desperate rage that had been brewing in him since before she had returned. It seemed to come to a boiling point just minutes after she saw him again. He had given her the fastest, most painful hug she had ever experienced. But she took it, knowing and feeling where he was. Losing John and visiting Angela so soon was a mistake but, at least she could perfectly emphasize. "Beer?" she asked, holding up a bottle as Sam soundlessly approached from behind. Sam's mind was so overwhelming that she had to focus to shut him out. She remembered why she had left only moments after returning. She could withstand her grief but not everyone else's. The cold bottle left her hand in a rush, the metal cap falling and clattering against the wooden planks of the deck. Then, miraculously, the noises stopped and Emily stood, moving towards where Dean and the now busted Impala would be. "Em, don't." She gently motioned for Sam to Stop and smiled to Bobby. She knew what she was doing. As she disappeared from sight, she allowed her feet to drag a little in the dirt, kicking small dust clouds into the air as she moved. She rounded the corner and saw Dean, his face taut and full of grief. She moved over to the car, the older Winchester barely acknowledging her, and hopped onto the trunk, her rump fitting perfectly into a groove. She just sat for a few moments, allowing him to recover a bit. "The cost of life is death, Dean." He looked up at her as if she had shocked him, his eyes wide. "We all have to pay up eventually." There were three silent seconds where Emily's face stayed completely still and empathetic as Dean looked at her like she ran over his puppy. Finally, he moved over to her and embraced her, his head resting against her chest. Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders as she rested her head on his.
[[Sorry about the short chapter. I didn't have much planned for the characters in this chapter. See you later – Ichi]]