Us Against the World
By January Lily
And I can't stand the pain
Chapter 25: Everybody Loves a Clown
Elle stood in front of the mirror in her hospital room focusing on her teary blue eyes which were red and puffy from crying. She felt like that was all she did was cry…or at least when no one was looking. She couldn't cry in front of Sam and Dean. She didn't have the right to cry in front of them. Especially after what she did. Especially after the last words she had spoken to him. John Winchester, her father, dead. She couldn't fully wrap her head around the thought. He was gone. Forever. Gone forever thinking that she hated him. Despite the hell that man had put her through for the past 22 years, she could never actually hate him and she hated herself for those being the last words she said to him. She had finally gotten the words she had been yearning from him for years and she had completely brushed him off. By this point, she was hyperventilating and had to rest her hands against the sink so that she could lean against it and not collapse to the ground. It hurt. Everything hurt. Her body hurt. Her head hurt. She just wanted to make it stop. She just wanted her father back. There was a knock at the door. Bleary-eyed, Elle turned to find Tommy rushing over to her.
"Hey, you all right?" Tommy asked gently.
"Fine. I'm fine," Elle said through gritted teeth.
"You don't look fine."
"Thanks for reminding me that I look like shit."
Elle looked down at her arms and legs which were covered with open wounds. She thought of the wounds under her hospital gown and refused to look at the one that marred her face. Tommy reached out to touch her but she quickly recoiled and moved further into the bathroom, tripping over the toilet—catching herself with her hand landing in the toilet bowl water. He quickly moved over to her and helped her to her feet and walked her to the sink to wash her hands. When she was done, Elle just stood there looking into the mirror once more as Tommy rested his arms against the sink, almost trapping her.
"That's not what I meant," Tommy whispered. "And you know it."
"I don't know anything anymore," Elle muttered.
"Elle."
"Don't."
"You were there for me. Let me be there for you."
"I don't want or need your help."
"I've been there—I know better than to believe you."
"I'm doing just fine on my own."
"Then why are you still in your hospital gown?"
"It's comfortable."
"The breeze in the back your favorite part?"
"Tommy, just—"
"Let me help you."
"Fine—but only because I don't want you to get Sam or Dean."
"Who will probably be here any minute. So we should probably get this over with."
With a shrug of her shoulder, Tommy wrapped his arm around Elle, but she quickly pushed his arm off her and walked back into the main part of her hospital room. Tommy tried to help her onto her bed, but again, she brushed him aside. He sighed before he walked over to the desk in the room where her duffel bag sat. He grabbed the bag and brought it over to Elle. He asked her what she wanted to wear, but she responded by dumping the over-stuffed bag causing t-shirts and underwear to fall to the floor. Elle reached for an old baggy t-shirt, sweatpants, and over-sized sweatshirt. Tommy found Elle's choices kind of odd—especially given how hot it was outside, especially with the humidity and it being summer and all. Elle tried to untie her hospital gown, but she couldn't reach it. Tommy quickly moved to her aid and untied it for her while trying to calm her at the same time. He knew Elle to be stubborn, but this seemed different. Like she was beginning to pull away. Elle managed to get her own shirt and sweatshirt on, but she dropped her sweatpants on the floor when she moved to get them on. She was about to jump down to grab them when Tommy stopped her and grabbed them. He started to slip the pants up her legs when a knock came at the door.
"What in the hell is going on in here?" Dean questioned as he walked into the room.
"I—uh—Elle needed help," Tommy said backing away.
"Taking her clothes off?"
"Putting them on—I swear to God. I would never disrespect your sister."
"I still don't get why you're here."
"I—uh—I called him," Sam said entering the conversation.
"Why?"
Both Tommy and Sam looked to Elle, but she wasn't paying attention to the conversation. Instead, she seemed to get lost in her thoughts as she stared outside at the rain. She had pulled the hood on her sweatshirt pulled up over her head—as if she were trying to cover herself. The only parts of her visible were her face and hands. Truth was, she was covering herself. As if she didn't have enough insecurities as it was—they were just intensified with the scars left behind on her body. Everything else that was wrong with her when she arrived in the emergency room had miraculously disappeared, but not those scars. She almost wished it were the other way around, that the scars were gone, but she retained all her other medical issues.
"Any time now," Dean said.
"Elle and I met up with Tommy in Colorado and he asked us to keep him up to speed with the whole demon thing," Sam rushed.
"That about sums it up," Tommy said with a nod of his head.
"Well, we gotta go," Dean responded gruffly. "Elle, get your shoes on."
Elle seemed to get a deer in the headlight expression on her face. In the corner of the room were the clothes she had been brought into the hospital wearing and they were all covered in blood. Her blue Converse sneakers were covered in blood and the E.R. doctors hadn't been careful when removing them. The shoes were ruined. Elle slowly began digging through the mess of clothes on her bed before she pulled out her flip flops. She pulled them on over the socks she was wearing, making for an awkward fashion statement before simply turning to stare back outside. The three guys in the room looked to each other in concern knowing that Elle wasn't acting like herself.
Sam mouthed asking what they should do. Dean responded that he didn't know and Tommy just shrugged his shoulders. None of them were sure how to proceed. Dean gently hit Sam in the arm before suggesting a game of Rock, Paper, Scissors—which the oldest Winchester lost. He demanded a rematch because he was distracted, but he still lost. Dean sighed before he walked over to Elle's bed. He cleared his throat three times before he got his sister's attention. Her bright blue eyes seemed to be swimming in unshed tears and Dean had to look away. To be honest, he was still kinda pissed at his sister. He knew he really shouldn't be after everything she had been through—but part of him couldn't help but wonder if their dad would still be alive if Elle hadn't gone off on her own. Sam coughed his name which made him look at Elle again, but she was just aimlessly playing with the drawstrings on her sweatshirt. Dean noticed the mess she had made of her clothes and he started to pick them up for her. Tommy quickly rushed to his side, helping him pick up the clothes. He picked up a pair of Elle's underwear which Dean quickly snatched from Tommy and stuffed in Elle's bag. Dean then did a quick search for all the undergarments before the other guy got a hold on any more.
The middle Winchester sibling had walked over to his little sister and sat on the bed beside her. He tried to hug his little sister, but she only pushed him away to continue playing with her drawstrings. Sam told her that they would stop to get her new shoes, but she still didn't say anything. He knew that she was hurting—hell, they were all hurting. Dean wasn't really showing it and Elle was trying to isolate herself and he was just trying to keep it together in case either of them broke. Weren't families supposed to come together in tragedies? Because it seemed like this family was going to fall apart. Dean said that it was time for them to go—that they had to get to over to Bobby's place who already had a few hours on them, having posed as a funeral director to transport the body. The body. Their father's body. They were going to give him a proper send-off tonight…if they ever managed to get out of this hospital. There was a knock on the door. The Winchesters and Tommy turned to find Marcus, the paramedic, standing in the doorway.
"What do you want?" Sam scoffed.
"I'm here to talk to Elle," Marcus responded.
"Anything you have to say to her, you can say in front of us."
"Actually, by law you need to leave the room for what I'm about to discuss with her."
"Unless, Elle says she wants us present."
"Stand down, Mr. Pre-law," Dean said patting Sam's shoulder. "We can go get the car pulled around for Elle-Belle."
"That job doesn't require more than one person."
"Sam, it's fine. I'll be fine," Elle sighed. "Tommy you go with them too."
"Elle…"
"I said I'm fine!"
Elle felt bad for snapping at her brother and she muttered her apologies as Tommy, Dean, and Sam left her room. Sam looked over his shoulder at her before he left. Marcus seemed to be waiting patiently for them to go. After several moments of silence, Elle looked up at Marcus and gave him a look asking him what he wanted. He cleared his throat before taking a step closer to her.
"How are you doing, Elle?" Marcus asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Elle said as she squished her socked toes in her flip flops. "Especially not with someone I've never met before."
"My name is Marcus. I'm the guy who found you after the accident."
"What are you here for—a thank you?"
"Do you feel safe at home?"
Elle was completely thrown for a loop. She didn't understand why he would be asking her this.
"You came in pretty battered…more than just a car accident."
"So?"
"You don't have to go home with them, you know. There are programs for people in situations like yours…"
"Hold-up, what are you implying here?"
"It was obvious that you were abused before…"
"My brothers would never hurt me like that. In my line of work—my family's line of work—things can be pretty physically demanding."
"And what is the McGuilicutty family business?"
"We hunt spirits, demons, shtrigas, wendigos, creepy-ass scarecrows, and the like. Then we kick their asses. You know, the saving the world business." Elle's tone was filled with sarcasm so Marcus wouldn't believe her. "I don't mean to be rude, but my dad just died and my brothers and I have funeral arrangements to look after."
"Of course. But let me give this to you—just in case."
Marcus handed her a piece of paper with a phone number on it. He told her that she could call him at any time—if she didn't feel safe, if she just needed to talk, or for whatever. Elle sighed and nodded her head as she shoved the paper in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She wasn't actually going to ever use it, but she pretended that she would—so that she could get rid of him. Elle walked past Marcus with her gaze on the ground and her hood strings pulled tight, flip flops clicking with every step she took. She hated the attention that she was drawing to herself. If she could just curl up in a ball—she would. Instead, she made her way outside where the boys were waiting for her in the Impala.
Elle slid into the backseat beside Tommy who tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she ignored him and curled into a ball, isolating herself from him. She leaned her head against the window and she could feel the tears beginning to well in her eyes. They were leaving the last place she had spoken to her father. The place where her father had tried to tell her that he loved her—but she wouldn't let him. It was all her fault. It was probably her fault he was dead. The conclusion wasn't hard to jump to. She was a medical miracle—having no sign of any prior injuries aside from the scars covering her body. That and the fact that the Colt was missing—it made sense. If she had only known…Elle gasped out loud, her thoughts of her father overwhelming her. Dean slammed on the breaks and all three boys looked to her. Elle just pulled her sweatshirt hood over her face and refused to meet their glances as she muttered that she was fine and it was menstrual issues—which scared all three of them away.
After a car ride that seemed to last an eternity, the Winchesters and Tommy finally made it to Bobby's house. Dean made a comment about why Tommy was still with them—but no one responded. The boys got out of the car and met Bobby, but Elle stayed in the Impala. She sat with her feet pulled up to the seat and her arms wrapped around her legs just staring blankly ahead. Bobby shook each of the boys' hands, including Tommy's before he looked at Elle in the car. He asked the boys how she was doing—but no one could really give a solid answer because to be honest, they didn't know how Elle was doing. She didn't really talk to them unless she had to—but she always avoided the subject of John.
Elle sat in the Impala, alone, until night fell. Sam and Tommy came out to bring her supper, but she refused the food—she wasn't really hungry. Her stomach was still churning with guilt. She had cried most of the afternoon in the car, but she tried to hold it together for the boys—although, it was obvious that she wasn't all right. After ignoring them long enough, her brother and Tommy left her alone once more—but it wasn't long lived when Bobby came over and knocked on her window. She looked over to him as he motioned for her to roll down the window. Slowly, she obliged and rolled it down. He leaned against the window and examined the pale and tired expression on her face, her red eyes and nose, and tear-stained cheeks.
"Ellie, it's time," Bobby said gruffly.
"For what?" Elle said hoarsely.
"I think you know what, Ellie. It's time to say goodbye. Sam and Dean are waitin' on ya."
"Just tell them to go without me."
"I know you and your daddy had your differences, but…"
"I don't want to go."
"I know you're hurtin' but so are your brothers. They need you there."
That felt like a punch in the gut. Her brothers needed her. What kind of person was she that she needed to be guilt-tripped into attending her own father's funeral? A horrible person probably and this very fact made her feel worse. Elle rubbed at her face harshly with the sleeves of her sweatshirt while Bobby reached out to touch her shoulder. She immediately flinched at his touch. She couldn't stand anyone touching her anymore. She hated the feeling of not being in control of who could touch her and who couldn't, but being tortured by a demon would do that to a person. Bobby muttered an apology before he opened the car door and held out a hand for Elle to grab. She moved the hood of her sweatshirt from her face to get a better look at his outstretched hand. She knew she was being stupid—debating whether or not to accept his hand. This was Bobby. The man who was like a father to her. The thought of the word father panged at her heart and made her eyes begin to water once more. She hated looking weak and pathetic. Over Bobby's shoulder she could see Sam and Dean standing on the porch—waiting. Waiting for her. She didn't want to hurt them—the way she had hurt her father. Elle sighed. She would go—but for Sam and Dean—not for herself. She didn't deserve to find any peace after what she had told her father and how she had treated him.
Without accepting Bobby's hand, Elle slipped past him and slowly walked toward her brothers in her socks because she had lost her flip flops in the car. Once again, she seemed to hide herself in her sweatshirt—ashamed of the marks on her body. Sam walked toward her and stopped, opening his arms to hug her. She didn't want to—but she knew that he needed it and despite whatever she wanted, her brothers came first. She couldn't risk hurting him, like she had her father, and having him die on her. She walked toward him and let him wrap his arms around her, but she just stood there still—waiting for it to be over. When Sam finally released her, she looked over to Dean to see if he needed the same thing—but he refused to make eye contact with her. Elle just nodded her head as Bobby led them through his salvage yard to the place he had set-up for John's funeral. Tommy had stayed behind in Bobby's house, trying to give the family time to grieve on their own and having not known John Winchester except for Elle's description of a man with eternal constipation.
When they finally came to a stop at the funeral pyre, Elle felt rather dizzy and short of breath at the sight of her dead father's wrapped body. This made things seem more real. She found herself gasping for breath when Sam wrapped his arm around her. Her first thought was the brush him off—but when she did so, she saw the hurt in his eyes. So she leaned against her brother and reached for the chain around her neck with the key attached. She had no idea why her father had given it to her, but he had. It was one of the only things she could hold onto of him. Bobby lit the pyre and then told the Winchester kids that he was going to give them time to pay their respects in private before he stomped back toward the house. The flames slowly began to flicker before the fire was roaring in front of them. The smoke stung at her already watery eyes, causing tears to cascade down her cheeks. She sniffled which caused Sam to rub Elle's arm, which made her cringe slightly, but she allowed it. She looked over at Dean who almost seemed to be giving her a disgusted look for a moment before he looked straight ahead at their father.
Elle's gaze was forced upward as the smoke rose to the starry night's sky. She felt a pit of anger in her stomach as she looked upward. Why didn't they do anything to stop this? Why had they let this happen? She was brought back to the scene in front of her when Sam began struggling to ask them a question. It took him several tries before he spit out that he wanted to know if Dad told either of them anything before—before he died. Elle dropped the key on the chain she had been holding and mumbled that it had been normal stuff, while Dean said that Dad told him nothing. With a look at him—she knew that he was lying—but she didn't call him on it. She didn't have the energy to do so. Elle then thought of the last words her father had spoken. He had told her that he loved her. Her eyes looked forward to his burning body. She couldn't do this. She thought that she could be there for her brothers—but she couldn't be there. Not after everything. Elle removed Sam's arm and quickly turned on her heel to walk away wiping at the tears that wouldn't stop flowing.
"Elle, where are you going?" Sam called.
"I can't—I just can't do this," Elle cried. "I tried, but I can't."
"Elle…"
"You stay here," Dean commanded. "Dad deserves that much from you."
"I can't, Dean," Elle whined. "I can't."
"Don't you walk away from this. Not now."
Elle's tearful gaze met Dean's hardened one.
"I can't be here," Elle muttered before she turned her back on her brothers and took a few steps before saying lowly, "I don't deserve to be here."
Leaving her brother's and her father behind, Elle maneuvered her way back to Bobby's house. Her tear ducts couldn't produce any more tears by the time she got back to the house. Bobby was sitting outside with Tommy when she walked up the porch stairs. She stopped and turned toward them. They both looked at her with puzzled expressions on her face when she finally spoke.
"Walmart. I need to go to Walmart."
One Week Later…
Bobby sat at his kitchen table massaging his temples. He felt like the Singer Salvage Yard had turned into the Singer Bed, Breakfast, and every freaking meal. Normally, he lived alone but for the past week he had been playing host to three Winchester kids and their friend Tommy Collins. So far, the most tolerable one had been the one he didn't really know: Tommy. Dean had thrown himself into working on fixing up the totaled Impala. He was rarely around except for meals—and even then he was usually rather irritated. Sam was busy looking over the shoulders of both his siblings—hovering over them both. Elle had locked herself up in the spare bedroom and didn't come out except to go to the bathroom or sneak food upstairs. She was also the one that worried him the most—not talking to anyone really. Tommy sat in the room with her a good amount of the time, but she just stayed in there watching Disney movies on the DVD player she had demanded to get from Walmart that night.
The front door of the house swung open revealing Sam Winchester walking through the door. He clutched a phone in his hands with a bag of groceries on his arm. Sam had been trying to figure out his daddy's voicemail passcode since he found the phone. Angrily, he slammed the phone down on the table before shoving the bag in the freezer and taking a seat at a chair across from Bobby.
"I've tried everything," Sam grumbled. "Nothing works: his birthday, Mom's birthday, Dean's birthday, Elle's birthday, my birthday…I've gotten nowhere."
"You know your daddy was big into that code stuff," Bobby responded. "Coordinates…"
"Bobby, that's gotta be it. Map. You got a map?"
Bobby walked over to a messy desk and grabbed an atlas before tossing it at Sam. Sam paged through it until he came to Kansas. He plugged in the closest numbers to Lawrence's coordinates, but that didn't work. Bobby watched as Sam continued to thumb through the atlas for coordinates to anything memorable. After several failed attempts, Sam finally flipped to the page with a map of Wisconsin. He looked to Bobby who shrugged his shoulders. Sam's finger moved to the northern part of the state to find the four numbers closest to the coordinates for Rhinelander, Wisconsin. He dialed them into the phone. There was a moment of silence before a voice spoke into the phone telling him that he had 11 new voicemails and 19 saved voicemails. Sam's eyes widened. It worked. He mouthed that it worked to Bobby before he quickly went back outside to the porch to listen to the messages.
Just then, Tommy came down the stairs. He nodded his head at Bobby as he entered the kitchen. Bobby motioned for Tommy to take a seat, but instead, the young man went to the refrigerator. Tommy muttered something about not knowing when Elle had eaten, so he was going to make her a sandwich. Bobby told the young man to sit—that Elle's stomach could manage for a few minutes while he took a breather. Tommy sighed before he sat down across from Bobby. The young guy yawned—looking after a stubborn Ellie wasn't exactly a cakewalk, but it looked the kid was managing so far.
"How is she?" Bobby asked.
"We're back to Mulan," Tommy responded. "I never knew it was possible to over-do the whole Disney thing, but she takes it to a whole other level."
"Everyone grieves differently."
"I know I'm in no place to judge—but this isn't healthy for her."
"I know it."
"So what are we gonna do?"
The timer on the oven went off. Bobby stood up and walked over to the oven and took out a pan of brownies. Just then Tommy noticed the countertop with the empty Betty Crocker Brownie Mix, mixing bowl, egg shell, and vegetable oil container. Bobby quickly set the hot pan on top of the stove before he turned to Tommy.
"Brownies? What are you gonna do with brownies?" Tommy asked.
"Bribe her," Bobby said with a shrug. "They're her favorite and we gotta start somewhere."
Tommy shook his head before Bobby told him to get some shut-eye on the couch while he tried to bribe Elle out of bed. The young man accepted the offer as Bobby moved to the freezer to grab the carton of cookie dough ice cream Sam had just gotten from the store. Bobby could hear Tommy already gently snoring as he scooped the ice cream into a bowl over the warm brownie. If this didn't work—he wasn't sure what would—other than a hard dose of reality, but he was going to try this first.
The older man climbed the stairs and stopped outside the door to the room Elle had been occupying. He could hear her moving about inside the room. After a quick rap on the door, Bobby opened it to reveal Elle standing in front of the TV and DVD player. She looked over to Bobby with a tired expression and still dressed in the clothes she had come in. Bobby tried not to take a whiff of the odor she was giving off—knowing that she also hadn't showered in a week. How Tommy could put up with all of this was beyond him. Elle didn't say anything. Instead she just put a new DVD into the player before hopping back onto the bed and falling backward onto her pillows. Bobby took a few more steps inside, looking over at the stack of DVD's Elle had accumulated over the week: Mulan, Beauty and the Beast, Lilo and Stitch, Pocahontas, Emperor's New Groove, The Little Mermaid, Robin Hood, Cinderella, Aladdin, Lion King, A Goofy Movie, Toy Story, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Finding Nemo…and a few more that had fallen behind the DVD player. Bobby shook his head. She definitely had gone a little overboard in reverting back to her Disney phase.
"So, what's playing at Ellie Cinema?" Bobby asked.
"Lilo and Stitch," Elle muttered.
"You want cookie dough ice cream and brownies to go with it?"
"Yeah."
Elle sat up and motioned for Bobby to hand her the bowl.
"But there's a catch," Bobby stated.
"Of course there is," Elle groaned as she plopped back onto the pillows.
"You might wanna hear me out otherwise I'll eat this in front of you."
"Fine."
"Number one—a shower is in order. You're ripe and that poor boy is going to need nose plugs soon. Number two—you gotta spend some time with those brothers of yours. They don't know how to function without ya."
"Is that it?"
"For now."
"Fine, hand me the bowl. I haven't eaten since someone seems to be guarding the fridge at all times."
Bobby smirked at her before he handed her the bowl and walked across the room to crack a window to air the room out. He then moved to the dresser and grabbed the DVD player off it. Elle asked him what he thought he was doing—and Bobby told her that since she was using his electricity, he got to dictate when she used the DVD player and right now, she wasn't going to get it back until she spent some time with her brothers. Elle grumbled something Bobby couldn't understand as the old man walked out of the room with her DVD player. Elle set the half-eaten bowl of ice cream and brownie on the bedside table before she curled herself up into a ball. If she hadn't been so hungry—she never would have made that deal. She didn't really want to see her brothers. While isolating herself, she had reasoned that she really couldn't say anything she'd regret to them if she didn't see them. She had seen Dean asleep on the couch twice in the past week and she had run into Sam after every time she used the bathroom, because he was obviously trying to get her attention. Instead, she would quickly dodge him and run back to her sanctuary. She knew that they wouldn't understand, but it was for the best—so that she didn't say anything stupid to them and live to regret it.
Elle looked over at the stack of DVD's. They only way she was getting that player back was if she met Bobby's demands. First up, the shower. Elle poked her head out into the hallway to make sure that the coast was clear before she sprinted to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She leaned against the bathroom door and she could feel her heart weighing her down. Wasn't it supposed to get easier? It had been a week since…it should feel better by now? There should be a sense of some relief? But no. Any time her thoughts turned to her father there was a gnawing sense of guilt that overwhelmed her that it practically paralyzed her. She slid down the door to the floor—who knew that taking a simple shower could be so hard and energy consuming? It only made her wonder how hard it was going to be to spend time with her brothers—especially Dean, who hadn't even attempted to seek her out. Slowly, she crawled on her hands and knees over to the bathtub and turned it on. She watched as the water flowed from the faucet—almost mesmerized by it. How she wished it could all be over. All the pain—all the hurt—all the guilt. Her eyes flickered over to the plug for the bathtub for a moment before she pulled the metal piece to make the water flow from the shower nozzle.
The Winchester girl stayed in the shower until the water went cold. At some points she wasn't sure what was water and were her tears. They flowed mingled down her face. She hadn't even used soap when the water went cold on her. So she quickly shampooed her hair washed her body under the freezing water. By the time she got out of the shower, her body was pruned and shivering, her eyes were red from crying, and she was exhausted from exerting herself the most she had in days. She wrapped herself in a towel and tip-toed back to her room, dripping water on the floor from her hair. She closed the bedroom door behind her and sat on the bed covered in her towel. She leaned back on the bed, closing her eyes. Daily tasks shouldn't be so difficult. After almost ten minutes of just lying there, Elle finally got up and moved to her duffel bag. She found a pair of jeans and a baggy sweatshirt she had stolen from Sam a couple months ago. Again, she was trying to hide the scars that now covered her body. She left her hair unbrushed and hanging down, still dripping before she slowly emerged from her room. She had half-expected to find Sam waiting for her, but he wasn't.
Slowly, she walked over to the stairs. She stood at the top of them for about five minutes before she heard the sound of the door opening and closing and Sam and Dean talking downstairs. There was a mention of her name, which made her freeze for a second. She didn't want to do this—but she wanted that freaking DVD player too much. So, she walked down the stairs. Sam smiled at her when he noticed her and Dean glanced over at her momentarily before he looked a different direction. Sam met her at the bottom of the stairs with open arms which she walked into—but hoped it would be over soon. He told her that it was good to see her to which she just nodded.
"Just tell her already," Dean grumbled.
"Tell me what?" Elle asked.
"We've finally got somewhat of a lead. It's a few hours drive from here," Sam said.
"Well, good luck with that. I love you both and I'll see you if you get back."
Sam looked at her curiously.
"You're going with 'em, Ellie. The fresh air will do you good," Bobby said from the table.
"But I can't," Elle mumbled. "I just—can't."
"We're gonna go talk to someone who knew Dad, not duke it out with the Demon," Dean commented.
Elle bit her bottom lip before she looked over to Tommy sleeping soundly on Bobby's couch. Bobby must've read her mind because he responded.
"He'll be here when you get back," Bobby said. "I've got some work he can do for me. He made mention of wanting to earn his stay."
"But I—"
"And if you want desk decoration back—you'll go with 'em."
The DVD player sat on Bobby's desk. Before Elle could even say anything else, Sam said that it was settled and asked if Bobby had any cars they could borrow. The grumpy old man said that he should have something lying around that worked. He reached for a pair of keys and told the Winchesters to follow him. Elle looked down at her socked-feet and sighed before she pulled her wet hair behind her ears. Dean quickly followed behind Bobby, but Sam looked at Elle and put up a finger to give him a second. He went and dug through his stuff in the corner of the living room before he walked back toward her with a box. With a goofy grin on his face, he handed her the box and told her to open it. She really wasn't in the mood for gifts, but to appease her brother she pulled the lid off the box to reveal a blue pair of Converse sneakers with a Superman emblem embroidered on each shoe.
"I kinda had to guess at your size," Sam said. "But if they don't fit we can get you something else. I just thought they looked kinda cool and you're like Superwoman in my book."
Elle didn't say anything as she felt the tears stinging at her eyes. Instead, she dropped the box to the floor and hugged her brother tightly. He made a terrible joke about the shoes being that bad as he hugged her back. She certainly didn't feel super but the fact that Sam knew—he just knew—that meant the world to her. She quickly broke the hug and Sam told her to put the shoes on and meet them outside. As Sam walked outside, Elle laced up her new sneakers on the floor. Bobby walked inside and stopped right in front of Elle. He told her to be good and to try and enjoy herself—her DVD player would be waiting for her when she got back. She didn't say anything, she just nodded her head as concentrated on tying her shoes. When Elle stood up, Bobby reached under her chin and lifted it a bit. He told her to keep her chin up and that everything was going to be okay—different, but okay. Elle just nodded her head again before she walked over to Tommy sleeping on the couch. She didn't want to wake him to say goodbye, so instead, she pressed a kiss against his cheek and walked out the door.
Sam and Dean were beside an old beat-up soccer mom van with wood paneling. Dean shook his head and said that he never thought he'd be caught dead in one of these. Normally, Elle would make some sort of witty retort, but she didn't have it in her. Instead, she just walked past her brothers and tried to open the sliding door to the back—but it was stuck. Dean gently pushed her aside and tried to open it himself, but it still wouldn't budge. So, Elle opened the driver's door and crawled through the front seat to the back of the van. Sam and Dean took this as their cue to leave, so they both hopped into the van and were on their way—only Elle still didn't have a clue where they were going. While they were on the road, Dean grumbled about how he was getting passed by old geezers because the van wouldn't go any faster without falling apart. Sam laughed at this, but Elle just stared outside at the flat land they were passing.
Eventually, they pulled up to the Harvelle Roadhouse Saloon. Elle wondered for a moment if Dean was truly that desperate for a good drink, but it didn't really make sense for them to drive hours for one. They got out of the car and Sam made a mention that they were looking for someone named Ellen. Elle asked who Ellen was, but neither of her brothers could answer her. Sam tossed something to Dean who easily caught it before they headed for the door. Elle followed with her arms folded across her chest. She was roasting to death in this sweatshirt, but she wasn't going to move to take it off—otherwise she'd reveal the marks she wanted to forget.
The Winchesters walked inside the saloon to find the place practically empty. The only noise in the place was a fly buzzing about and the sound of a lightbulb flickering. Elle stayed between Sam and Dean as they walked further inside. Elle spotted a drunk guy passed out on the bar. Sam made a comment about that not being Ellen—but maybe the guy could tell them where they could find Ellen. So, Elle departed her brother's side, glad for a chance to be rid of them for a moment, as she headed toward the guy while Sam walked into the backroom and Dean walked toward the other side of the bar. When Elle got to the guy, the first thing she noticed was the mullet he was rocking before she poked at his cheek. She didn't get a reaction out of him. She poked him again and again, he didn't do anything.
With a sigh she turned around to yell to Dean when she felt her arms lock behind her back. Elle screamed bloody murder at someone's unwanted touch. Her thoughts immediately returned to being taken against her will with the Demon. She felt so helpless that she didn't even put up much of a fight. Instead, the tears streamed down her cheeks as she was willing to accept her fate. She wondered why her brothers weren't coming to her rescue, but both of them were being held at gunpoint in front of her by two women. She was going to die. Her father made the freaking deal for nothing—but she refused to be tortured like last time. She wanted her fate served with a swift blow.
"Just get it over with," Elle cried. "Kill me already."
"Whoa there, little lady, I ain't gonna hurt ya," the man said. "Just have some questions for ya."
"Do it, please."
"Just walk with me."
The man with the mullet walked her toward her brothers and the armed women. Sam called her name when he caught sight of the tears running down her face. The woman holding Sam at gunpoint looked over at her curiously before she looked to Sam and Dean. She looked to be pondering something for a second before she spoke.
"Elle? Sam? Dean? Winchester?" the woman said.
The Winchester looked to each other in confusion before they acknowledged who they were. The woman chuckled and lowered her gun and patted Sam on the shoulder.
"Mom, you know these guys?" the blonde girl asked.
"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's kids," the woman laughed. "I'm Ellen, by the way, and this is my daughter Jo."
Jo slowly lowered her rifle before she said hello to them. Dean gave her a smile—a smile of respect, before he asked the girl if she was going to hit him again. Jo shrugged her shoulder and told him that she wasn't going to make any promises while Ellen put some ice in a towel and handed it to Dean. Dean put the towel on his face and told Jo that she packed a good punch to which Jo retorted that she already knew that, causing Dean to grin. Ellen then looked over at Elle, who was still being held against her will.
"Ash, you can let the poor girl go," Ellen laughed. "Besides, from what John's said about her, she could probably easily kick your ass."
The man named Ash released Elle before he apologized and awkwardly patted the top of her head. Elle cringed at his touch before he walked away and passed out again on the bar. Ellen looked at Elle in concern but before she could say anything, Dean began his game of twenty-questions with her.
"So, you called our dad saying you could help? Help with what?" Dean asked.
"Well, the demon, of course. Heard he was closing in on it."
"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who—who are you? How do you know about all this?"
"Hey, I just run a saloon, honey. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once. I feel that I know you kids almost as well as I know my own daughter."
"Oh yeah? Then why is it he's never mentioned you before? Ellen, if that even is your name."
"You'd have to ask him that."
"So why exactly do we need your help?"
"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 looked to each of the Winchesters before finishing. "He didn't send you…he's alright, isn't he?"
"Unless dead is alright," Elle blurted out.
Elle immediately regretted her decision. She began to sniffle and pressed her hands against her eyes, trying to block the tears from falling. She felt like all she did was cry. John Winchester would be embarrassed to see her right now. Footsteps sounded like they were coming closer toward her before a soft, gentle hand touched her. Elle didn't feel scared by Ellen's touch. Something about her felt trustworthy. Ellen removed Elle's hands from her eyes and looked at her sympathetically.
"Honey, I'm so sorry," Ellen said before turning to Sam and Dean. "What happened to him?"
"The demon got to him before he got to it, I guess," Sam said with a shrug.
"Got to you too, I'm guessing," Ellen said as she gently rubbed Elle's hand. "You don't have to put on a brave face for me, Elle. I know the complicated nature of your relationship with your dad. I can't say I agreed with his methods, but that's neither here nor there. But I'm here for anything you need—all you guys."
"It's okay, we're all right—all of us," Dean interrupted.
"Really? I know how close you and your dad were too."
"Really lady, I'm fine—we're all…"
"So look, if you can help us tracking down the Demon, we could use all the help we can get," Sam interrupted Dean.
"Sam," Dean growled.
"You said yourself that the trail's gone cold. We don't have Dad to help us with it—we need someone. So, Ellen, please…"
"Look, Jo and I can't be of much help—but Ash will," Ellen responded.
Ellen yelled for Ash who looked disgruntled being awoken again. Dean scoffed about how a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie could possibly be of use to them, but Jo retorted that Ash was a genius. Dean rolled his eyes as he slammed a folder down on the bar as Ash sat down beside him. Jo nudged Dean and told him to give Ash a chance. Elle just sat there watching it all—unsure of what she was supposed to be doing. Suddenly her stomach rumbled causing Ellen to shoot her a quick glance with a smile.
"Why don't you come back to the kitchen with me while your brothers talk business," Ellen suggested. "Jo will keep 'em in line for you."
"You got that right," Jo commented.
Elle looked to Sam who nodded his head that it was all right before she walked behind the counter and followed Ellen into the back kitchen. Ellen pointed Elle to a stool which Elle sat on before pushing the sleeves up on the baggy sweatshirt because she was sweating. She quickly pulled the sleeves back down when she saw Ellen looking at the marks on her arms. But what surprised Elle was that Ellen didn't ask about the marks. Instead, she just asked what she could fix Elle to eat. Not having had an actual meal in a while Elle asked for chicken tenders and fries. Ellen shook her head and laughed—of all the things she could have ordered, she goes for chicken tenders and fries. Elle just shrugged her shoulders as she could feel the tears beginning to bubble in her eyes.
"Honey, I know what it's like to lose someone, but you can't let it consume you," Ellen said.
"I don't think you get it," Elle said suddenly, surprising herself. "I was so angry with him."
"Join the club."
"I've just been so angry with him for so long. Trying to figure out what to do to get him to love me, all the secrets, ignoring me—I just couldn't take it anymore. So, I let him have it. God, I laid into him so hard. I told him that I hated him and he just took it. He told me that he loved me and I told him that I hated him—and he just took it, accepted it. I don't know why I'm telling you all this—I don't even know you."
"Sometimes it's easier that way."
"You can't tell a soul what I just told you. If Sam and Dean knew…"
"Hey, I'm just here to get you your chicken tenders—not go blabbing your secrets to your brothers. Although, I do think you'd feel a hell of a lot better if you told them."
"But I don't deserve to feel better. I deserve to feel like shit after what I did."
"That's your call, honey."
When Elle's food was finished cooking Ellen put it on a plate before handing it over to Elle. Elle timidly asked if she could stay in the kitchen and eat her food. Ellen caught the underlying hint that she didn't really want to be bothered by her brothers, so she agreed before walking back up front. Elle sat in the back slowly eating her chicken tenders, dipping them in the ranch and ketchup concoction she had made. She slowly savored each bite, knowing that when she was done eating she wouldn't have an excuse to avoid Sam and Dean. She loved them, she did, but she still didn't want to be around them—knowing that she was capable of hurting them.
"Hey!" Jo yelled causing Elle to jump. "Oh god, I so didn't mean to scare you. I—uh-your brothers just wanted me to tell you that you're pulling out in five."
"Where are we going?" Elle questioned.
"Dunno—you'd have to ask the tall one."
"They're both tall."
"Sam? His name is Sam, right? The really tall one."
"Yeah, that's Sam."
There was an awkward pause between the two girls. Elle swirled her fry in her ketchup/ranch mix.
"I can get you a to-go box, if you want," Jo stated.
"That's all right, I've lost my appetite," Elle sighed.
Elle sighed as she looked down at the half-eaten plate of chicken and fries. She adjusted her sweatshirt to make sure it was covering her marks properly before she jumped off the stool and walked toward the door. Elle was just out the door when Jo called back to her.
"Hey, Elle?" Jo said.
"Yeah?" Elle responded as she turned toward the girl.
"If your brothers give you any crap, just let me know and I'll kick their asses when you guys get back here."
Elle just nodded her head before she followed her brothers outside of the roadhouse and back to the minivan. She crawled through the front and to the backseat before Dean got in and pulled the minivan into gear and hitting the road. It was several hours into the journey before Elle realized that they weren't heading back to Bobby's. She meekly questioned where they were headed, but Dean looked to Sam and Sam said that she would find out soon enough. They were acting quite odd. Why weren't they upfront with her about where they were headed? But Sam quickly interrupted her thoughts with the facts of some case. Elle felt anger burn within her—they were going on a case? She wasn't ready for a case—ever again. She didn't want to do this—but instead of lashing out in anger at her brothers, she pushed the anger deep down inside of her and instead, tears once again slipped from her eyes.
She mentally lashed out at herself for crying again. This sucked. She just wanted to control her damn emotions, but she couldn't. She just wanted to be by herself, but she was stuck with her brothers. She wanted to scream, but it would be of no use. She suddenly felt rather trapped when she saw a sign that read "You are now leaving Minnesota." Having paid attention in geography, Elle knew the options for states they were headed to—but the sun setting behind them made it rather obvious. Elle lunged for the door and pulled on it—but it wouldn't budge.
"Elle?" Sam questioned.
"Out, I want out," Elle screamed. "I need to get out. I can't be here."
"Calm her down," Dean demanded.
"How?" Sam asked.
"You know I hate Wisconsin," Elle whimpered.
"Then pretend it's not Wisconsin," Dean said.
"Dude, not helping—quit being an ass," Sam hissed.
Dean bit his bottom lip as he cocked his head at a different angle and continued watching the road—not saying what he wanted to say. Sam calmly explained the Elle that they were taking a job—to try and get back to normal. That life still went on—even without their father and that they had to try to get back to normal—so that they could kick the Demon in the ass. Elle settled down a little bit—she knew that she was acting childish, but it was as if she couldn't control her actions. It was as if someone else had taken root within her and was controlling her. She didn't like not being in charge of her senses—it made her feel even weaker and more pathetic than she already felt she was.
Sam continued to explain that they were going to Medford, Wisconsin. He then said something about killer clowns—apparently it killed the parents but left the kids, but the kicker was that the family had been at a carnival that night. Dean questioned how Sam knew it was something up their alley and Sam responded that the cops didn't have any viable leads. All the employees were tearing down shop and had solid alibis—not to mention that the little girl claimed that she saw the clown vanish into thin air. The cops chalked this up to trauma, but in this line of work—one knew better than to simply do that.
"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam—why did it have to be clowns?" Dean chuckled.
"Oh, give me a break," Sam grumbled.
"You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on TV."
"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."
"Planes crash!"
"And apparently clowns kill!"
Normally, Elle would have interjected in their conversation by this point, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. Instead, she gently pushed Sam's hand away from her and sat up to look out the window, while still listening to her brothers. Apparently this same type of thing happened three different times, at three different locations…at least on record. The last time recorded was in 1981 with the Bunker Brothers Circus. Sam and Dean mused what sort of thing could move from location to location—perhaps a spirit attached to a cursed object. Elle sighed at the theory—it was certainly plausible, but she really hoped that it was something not up their alley so that they could leave.
The Winchesters pulled up to a motel. Elle slowly followed behind both her brothers—normally, she was fighting to be the first one in the door, but honestly, she had no motivation to do so. She just kinda stared at her feet as she walked inside toward the extra bed, but Sam told her that she could take one of the bigger beds. She looked to him and gave him a nod before she fell onto the bed and lay very still, concentrating on breathing. Dean said that he was going out to get some food. He asked Elle what she wanted, but she didn't say anything. She didn't see his frustrated expression behind her, but he went out and got tacos. When he got back, Elle hadn't moved, but she wasn't asleep. She just lay there. Dean looked over to Sam who shrugged his shoulders.
"Elle. Tacos," Dean said.
But she didn't say anything and she didn't move. Dean sighed before he sat down at the table with Sam who was doing more research on his laptop. The two boys began to talk in hushed tones about their sister.
"I'm worried about her," Sam whispered.
"Just let her be," Dean whispered back.
"But this isn't our baby sister."
"What do you want me to do, Sam? Hold her by the hand? Force food down her throat?"
"I want you to give a shit."
"I do give a shit—but I'm gonna let her deal with this how she wants to, not how you expect her to."
"I'm not buying it."
"Then don't."
Dean took a bite of a taco, silencing Sam and causing him to shake his head. He reached for his own taco before he brought the case back up and the tension seemed to slightly dissipate. When both boys decided to go to bed, Elle still lay there awake—lost in her thoughts. She thought back to her eighth birthday when they had been on some sort of case in North Carolina—one of the few times John Winchester had shown a little affection toward her. He had showed up at the beach when they were watching the stars shine over the ocean and she had fallen asleep with her head on his lap. He hadn't done anything to move her. Was it the little moments that she had missed because she had been too busy being pissed at him or trying to impress him? Trying to make him love her—when he already did?
Elle managed a few hours of sleep off and on through the night before it was time for them to head to the carnival. She tried to get out of going, but Sam told her that they were trying to get back to normal—and this was something they normally did. She still didn't move, but Sam got down on his haunches and leaned in front of her, face to face. He told her that he was going to keep annoying her until she got up. This made her groan before she quickly sat up. She got a head rush from sitting up so fast, but she eventually made it out to the minivan and then to the carnival grounds.
When they pulled up to the carnival, they found detectives talking to some of the workers. Dean grabbed a fake ID from the box he had gotten from the Impala before he walked outside. Sam stood just outside the van, while Elle simply sat there in the back of the vehicle. She had made it that far—wasn't that good enough? Dean eventually walked back toward Sam. Sam knocked on the back window of the van and motioned for Elle to come outside. She stared at him blankly before he sighed and opened the trunk of the van so that Elle could be part of the conversation—although she didn't contribute anything to it. Dean told his siblings that there were two more murders and apparently another clown had been spotted, but once again it had vanished into thin air.
They were going to have to check everything for EMF to find the cursed object. Sam compared it to finding a needle in a needle stack—but they were going to stick out like a sore thumb. Dean then looked over to a sign that said "Help Wanted" before he smirked. Elle shook her head, but Dean nodded his. She looked to Sam but he also nodded his head, but she refused to go inside with them. So, the boys went inside and Elle snuck outside. She didn't want to be a part of this case. She needed to remove herself from it and somewhere Sam and Dean wouldn't find her. Elle looked around and spotted the Ferris wheel before she looked back at Mr. Cooper's trailer. She pulled her sweatshirt tighter over herself before she walked over to the Ferris wheel. The guy motioned for her ticket, but she shook her head and pulled out her wallet.
"This Mr. Franklin is yours if you don't make me get off," Elle said.
The guy nodded his head and motioned for her to step on. Elle sat down and moments later the Ferris wheel started. She rested her elbows on the lap guard and stared out before her—thinking. She had been doing a lot of that recently. She remembered going to a carnival once and she had run away from Sam and Dean because she didn't want to go on the Tilt-a-Whirl. She had run to the Ferris wheel line and found some older guy who was willing to ride it with her. Of course, that wasn't the problematic part—it was afterward that the guy tried to walk away with her when John intercepted them. He literally decked the guy in the face before yelling at her to run over to Sam and Dean who were a few feet away. She never knew what happened to the guy and her father never brought the incident up again.
Elle sighed before she leaned back again. She was probably on that stupid Ferris wheel for almost an hour when she saw Sam talking to the guy running the ride. Elle groaned when she saw him point up at her. Of course he found her. It's like he was making it his job to look after her. She watched as Sam shook his head and pulled out his wallet to pay the guy. The guy pocketed the money Sam gave him and stopped the ride when Elle was at the bottom, letting Sam sit beside her. The guy pulled the lap guard down and started the ride again. Sam and Elle sat there for a few minutes in silence before Sam started talking.
"We've been looking all over the place for you," Sam said. "Should've known you'd run to the Ferris wheel."
Elle just continued to look straight ahead at the carnival grounds before her.
"Come on, talk to me," Sam sighed.
"I have nothing to say," Elle muttered.
"Dad just died—you've got to be thinking something."
"Not really."
"You and Dean are both terrible liars."
Elle blew her breath out slowly.
"You know you can talk to me," Sam said.
"I know," Elle whispered.
"About anything."
"I know it, but I can't"
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Sam, just drop it, please?"
Sam nodded his head and looked straight ahead before he looked to his sister and smiled.
"I'm pretty sure that's the most you've spoken to me in a week."
Elle rolled her eyes.
"There's my little sister. I knew she was in there somewhere."
She didn't say anything. Instead, Sam asked her to walk through the fun house with an EMF with him. He told her that it was pretty dark in there and that no one would really be looking at her. She knew he was trying. She did. She felt like her emotions were on a yo-yo. One minute she was fine and the next the weight of the world was crashing over her. She didn't like this. She didn't like thinking about how crappy of a person she was—she just wanted to go back to bed and watch Disney movies…or maybe even spend some time away from her brothers. Figure out how to be better person…without them. Figure out how to be a person who wouldn't hurt them.
They got off the Ferris wheel and Elle barfed from motion sickness because she was on the ride way too long. Sam softly chuckled as he held Elle's hair back to keep it out of her face. When she felt a little better and was done puking, she went with Sam into the fun house with an EMF meter. She walked through the place, sticking close to the walls to stay out of people's ways. She came across a fun mirror that distorted her appearance. It made the scar on her face much more vibrant. Her hand moved its way up to her cheek, but she didn't get too lost in her thoughts because Sam reached out and touched her, causing her to scream. He had scared the crap out of her and the people in the fun house started to laugh at her. Sam gently held onto her shoulders and told her to focus her eyes on his. She slowly began to control her breathing before she shrugged Sam's arms from her shoulders. Why couldn't she just go back to normal like Sam or Dean? Why did she have to do this? Be this?
Sam told Elle that she could go back to the van while he looked for Dean. She crawled into the backseat of the van and rested her head on her knees and closed her eyes. She just wanted to be alone for a bit. No Sam or Dean or Bobby or Tommy looking in on her at every moment. No ghosts to gank or demons to exorcize. Just away from it all. By the time Sam and Dean got back to the van they had a trail to follow for this killer clown and they followed this family back home. For a while, they sat outside watching the house until all the lights went out. The boys got out of the car and headed to the house. They assumed that Elle was following behind them, but she didn't follow them. Through the window she saw Sam turn around to look at her, but Dean pushed him toward the door to unlock it. Hunter mode must've kicked in because Sam picked the lock and the boys went inside. Elle buried her nose in her sweatshirt and fell asleep in a rather uncomfortable position.
Elle screamed when Sam shook her awake with a frightened expression on his face. What was he doing here? How long had she been asleep? Sam asked her if she had seen it. Seen what? But she just looked at him with a confused expression on his face as Dean slammed the driver's side door shut and quickly took off down the dark road. He sped down the road, trying to avoid the sound of sirens. Dean asked Elle what she was doing, but Sam responded for her that she must've been tuckered out which caused Dean to slam the wheel.
"You fell asleep?" Dean hissed. "You knew what we were doing in there. I mean not having our backs, that maybe I get. But falling asleep? What if we needed you Elle? We could've died and it would've been your fault."
"Dean!" Sam hissed. "I know you're angry, but don't take it out on Elle."
"She's the one who effed up."
"It doesn't mean you have to rip her a new one."
"It's what Dad would do."
"Dad's not here."
"Yeah I know. He's dead."
"STOP!" Elle shouted. "Just stop. I can't. I just can't."
Elle buried her face in the arms of her sweatshirt. She didn't need Dean to berate her—she could do that well enough on her own. She hadn't thought that Sam and Dean would need her. She thought that they were more than capable without her. She hadn't meant to fall asleep—she was just so tired from the little sleep she had been getting. It seemed like all she was doing was effing up. Sam tried to talk to her, but she kept silent.
Eventually, Dean pulled the van over into a bunch of bushes. They had to ditch the van, in case the family had seen it and the police were looking for them. The Winchesters dug all their belongings out of the minivan and Dean pulled the license plates off. Sam questioned if they really saw it, but Dean didn't want to take any chances with a vehicle he was all too ready to get rid of. They then started walking down the road. Elle stayed a safe distance behind her brothers—she was still able to hear their conversation, but she didn't have to be a part of it.
"I've been thinking…" Dean started. "I don't think we're 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 questioned.
"And dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did Dad's journal say anything?"
"Elle has his journal."
Dean turned back toward Elle who simply shook her head. Sam took the opportunity to pull his phone out of his pocket. Dean questioned whom Sam was calling.
"Maybe Ellen or that Ash guy'll know something," Sam suggested.
"Maybe," Dean said somewhat snidely.
"Hey, you think—uh—you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
"No frickin' way."
"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"
"Dunno—maybe they had some sort of falling out."
"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling with just about everybody? Me, Elle, Bobby…"
Dean just nodded his head.
"Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"This strong silent thing of yours, it's crap."
"I don't see you calling Elle out on it."
"But this isn't anyone we're talking about. I know how you felt about Dad."
Elle's heart sank for a moment. Sam knew how Dean felt about Dad. What did Sam think she felt about their father? Could he read her guilt? Did he know that she actually cared for her father? Was she transparent or did she have a solid façade?
"You know what, Sammy? Back off. Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to…" Dean argued.
"No, no, 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. Listen, you're our brother, man. We, Elle and I, want to make sure you're okay."
"Dude! I'm okay, okay? I swear the next person who asks me if I'm okay their face is going to meet my fist. These are your issues. So quit projecting them onto me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"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 the man. Hell, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him…"
Elle stopped in her tracks and didn't breathe for a moment. If Dean was this pissed at Sam for almost fighting with Dad before he died—how pissed would he be when he learned the last thing she told her father? As if the guilt wasn't plaguing her enough, knowing that Dean would hate her too made things worse. She already hated herself, but the thought of Dean hating her too because of it made it unbearable. She couldn't tell him. She could never tell him about that last conversation. Elle found it hard to breathe, so she sat down on the gravel and curled her legs up to her chest and held her knees with her hands. She wasn't sure how long she sat like that, but she watched Sam push Dean in her direction. Dean slowly walked back over to her, kicking at the gravel as he walked. When he got to his sister she sighed and got down on his haunches in front of her. He cracked his knuckles and cleared his throat.
"So, uh—Sam says I've been kinda an ass to you," Dean mumbled.
Elle just looked up at him with her bright blue eyes.
"He's just been on my back and I took it out on you since you're not in the fighting back mood…so I guess what I'm trying to say is that…I'm uh—sorry."
"No. Don't," Elle said jumping up her feet.
Dean looked at his sister with a puzzled expression as she walked away from him. He thought that she was mad at him—but truth was she was mad at herself and she didn't feel that Dean should be apologizing to her. Besides, he wouldn't be wanting to apologize if he knew. Dean jogged after her and fell into step with her, but she ignored him as she walked toward Sam who said goodbye to Ellen as his siblings returned to his side. Sam explained that Ellen's best guess was a Rakshasa—an ancient Hindu creature that appears in human form and feed on human flesh. They can make themselves invisible but they cannot enter a home without being invited inside first.
"So they dress up like clowns and the children invite 'em inside. Makes sense," Dean mused.
"Yeah," Sam said shaking his head.
"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"
"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"
"So, Elle should be safe."
Sam shook his head and Elle even attempted a smile.
"So, what else'd you find out?" Dean questioned.
"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects," Sam said.
"Ew," Elle commented willingly for the first time causing both Sam and Dean to look at her.
"Two out of three," Dean said shaking his head. "Let's not go for the trifecta."
"Yeah, so these things feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism or something, I guess," Sam said.
"That makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."
"And there were probably more before that."
As they continued to walk down the road, the boys mused who had worked both shows and came up with Cooper. Sam thought that the picture of the man's father looked just like Cooper. Dean asked how they were supposed to kill the thing and Ellen had told Sam on the phone that they needed a dagger made of pure brass. Dean said he was going to get the knife and Sam was going to check for bugs.
"Which one you looking for?" Dean asked Elle.
Elle shook her head no. She didn't want to do either. She would much rather just sit outside.
"We just don't want to take the chance of the thing finding you without one of us," Sam added.
"So what'll it be?" Dean questioned.
Elle made a stabbing motion with her hand which caused Sam and Dean to laugh—despite the fact that she hadn't really intended to make the situation humorous. Although, she was sure that her brothers both knew that there was no way in hell she was going up against anything bug related. Eventually, they got back to the carnival and the Winchesters split up. Elle went with Dean, only to avoid the creepy crawly critters that could potentially be in Cooper's trailer. Dean explained that the guy they were going to meet was blind and that she should avoid making any jokes about seeing—but Elle wasn't really in the mood to joke. She didn't tell that to Dean though who rapped on the man's door.
A man in sunglasses came to the door. Dean introduced her as his kid sister, Elle. The man sniffed for a moment before nodding his head and allowing them entrance into their trailer. Dean went inside first, but Elle couldn't help but get this feeling in the pit of her stomach that something wasn't right. She didn't know what was wrong—but she could just feel that something wasn't right. Dean asked the man if he had a brass knife. The blind man said he wasn't sure he had a brass knife in his collection, but that they were welcome to look through his trunk. He tapped his trunk with his cane before he walked away. Dean knelt down and opened the trunk. That feeling in Elle's stomach got worse when she saw a red clown wig and a clown costume. Her eyes met Dean's and he mouthed the word "run." Elle began to breathe heavily as she moved toward the door.
"Going somewhere?" the blind man asked.
Elle fumbled to come up with words to say as Dean placed himself between her and the man. Dean tried to make some excuse for his sister, but the blind man called him on his bluff before dropping his cane and pulling off his glasses. Elle felt frozen in place as she watched the man begin to melt in front of her before he disappeared altogether—aside from his eyes which glowed for a moment, like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland—a Disney movie she couldn't stand. Dean yelled for her to run. She tried to say something, but Dean pushed her toward the door. She went crashing into the door—hard. She jiggled the handle, but the door wouldn't budge. A knife flew past her head and punctured the door. She turned around wide-eyed before she started screaming at the door. Out—she needed out—now. She slapped the door and screamed for it to let her out. Dean came from behind her and threw his weight at the door, crushing her in between, but it opened. Elle fell out the door to the ground, Dean landing on top of her, but Sam was right outside to pick her up.
"I heard screaming," Sam said.
"It's the blind guy and he's here somewhere," Dean responded as he picked himself up.
"Well, did you get the—"
"Brass blades? No. It's just been one of those days."
"I got an idea. Come on."
Sam led them toward the funhouse. Elle began breathing harder as they entered the fun house. She stayed behind both of her brothers. They were no more than a few feet inside when a door slammed, separating Sam from his siblings. Elle began to scream his name hysterically as she pounded at the door. She couldn't lose him too. Dean covered Elle's mouth, not wanting her to give away their position as he walked her further through the fun house. They rounded a corner and found Sam. Elle ran over to Sam and hugged him when a knife whirred by and pinned Dean's sleeve to the wall. Elle turned, but she caught sight of her jumbled reflection in the mirror. The strobe lights began to go off and memories from the night began to fill her head. She slowly escaped the reality of the situation and went back to when Yellow-Eyes had her trapped. She closed her eyes and began screaming. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't save him. She was now on the floor, rocking herself back and forth crying. Another knife whirred past Sam's head as he ducked. It missed Dean's face by inches.
"Elle!" Sam shouted.
"Just get the friggin' thing so we can deal with her," Dean shouted.
Sam wrapped his hands with his sleeves before he pulled a pipe from the organ. Elle still sat there, rocking herself as Sam questioned Dean to where the thing was. Dean didn't hear Sam at first from Elle's crying as another knife went flying by and hit inches from Elle. Sam swore as Dean slowly reached up and pulled a lever causing more steam to pour from the pipe organ. Dean saw the vague shape of the invisible attacker behind Sam. He shouted for Sam to get the thing behind him. Sam turned to get the thing, but he tripped over Elle who was curled up. A knife hit the wall right above Elle's head, but she seemed unphased by this—still not with reality. From the floor Sam reached up and stabbed with the pipe unsure if he hit anything—but he did. Blood began to pour from nowhere, so Sam twisted the pipe causing more blood to come. Dean managed to free himself. He walked over to see an empty set of clothes and a bloody pipe. He helped Sammy to his feet, but Elle still sat there rocking herself. Sam and Dean exchanged glances.
"I couldn't do anything. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Elle whimpered.
"Elle, it's ok. The thing is gone," Sam said getting back down at Elle's level, thinking Elle was talking about what just happened, but Elle's thoughts were still focused on that night. The night that changed everything. She just rocked and continued to cry.
"Dude, the thing's gone. Why's she still like this?" Dean asked.
"I don't know. Elle! Elle!"
Dean spotted a cup that someone had left in the funhouse. He reached for it and swirled it—there was still something in it. He took the lid off before he dumped the melted ice water and soda mix onto Elle's face. She spluttered the liquid and looked up at Sam and Dean with her eyes wide. She looked around confused.
"What—what happened?" Elle whispered.
"You tell us," Dean responded.
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
Elle looked up at Dean before she forced herself into a standing position, not verbally responding. But it was then she knew. She knew that she couldn't do this anymore. She knew that she would only be a hindrance until she got a handle on this—if she ever managed to get a handle on things. Elle roughly wiped at her tear-stained cheeks before she walked out of the funhouse and into the night. The stars were sparkling high overhead—but she didn't take the time to look at them. The very things that had once made her feel not so alone had caused her to be alone.
Eventually, the Winchesters made their way back to Harvelle's Roadhouse Saloon—being forced to take a Greyhound there. Elle isolated herself from her brothers on the bus, trying to formulate a plan of action, but failing to come up with a reasonable one. From the bus stop, they walked the two miles to the Roadhouse to find Ellen, Jo, and Ash waiting for them. The boys sat down at the bar to tell Ellen and Jo all about what happened. Elle found an empty table at sat down. She slowly drummed her fingers against the table before she reached for a pen and a napkin and began to doodle. She just drew random designs, but she felt a little better…at least she did until Sam joined her. She looked up at him in confusion, but he nodded over to the bar where Dean was talking with Jo.
"I'm surprised you're not over there," Sam chuckled. "Usually any time Dean or I are within feet of a pretty girl you're right there."
Elle sighed before looking back at the napkin she was working on. Sam was right. Usually she'd be right there, questioning the girl—but she just felt numb. Sam was about to say something else to her when Ash came bursting in from the back room carrying the folder Dean had given him and bizarre looking laptop. Elle stayed put at the table while Sam moved over to the table where Ash had placed the computer. She watched as Dean walked over to them and as Sam motioned for her to come over, but she shook her head. Sam looked somewhat hurt but he returned his attention to Ash. Ellen came and sat in the chair across from her.
"You're awfully quiet," Ellen said.
"You don't really know me," Elle said as she continued to doodle.
"No, but I know you're hurtin'."
"I thought we already established that."
"Honey, the boys told me what happened…if you're not ready, you need to tell them. Giving them the silent treatment ain't doing nobody any favors."
Ellen reached for Elle's hand, causing the young girl's eyes to look to the older woman. Something about the woman gave her hope. She didn't know what it was. Then again, it also made her wish that she had a mother—someone who understood her struggles and her pains. She didn't know why she felt so comfortable around Ellen, she just did. The boys walked over to their table.
"Elle, we should head out," Dean said.
"Hey listen, if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple of beds out back," Elle said.
"Thanks, but no. There's stuff we gotta finish."
"Okay."
There was an awkward silence for a moment—this was it. This was the out she had been waiting for. A chance to let her brothers get on without her. A chance for her to be somewhat alone. A chance that she didn't have to go on any more hunts.
"Yes," Elle said feebly.
"What?" Sam questioned.
"Yes, I'll stay."
"You're more than welcome here," Ellen said. "But I think ya'll have some talking to do."
Ellen got up and walked toward the kitchen as Sam and Dean looked at Elle incredulously.
"What do you mean you're staying?" Sam asked.
"I'm going to stay here. You guys'll go back to Bobby's and look for the demon. I—I think that last job proved that I'm not capable of doing this job anymore. I just can't. It's better this way," Elle explained.
"Better for who?" Sam asked.
"Sam, if she wants to stay, let her stay," Dean said coming to Elle's defense.
"We're family. Family sticks together."
"If this is how Elle wants to deal with stuff—then let her."
While Dean seemed to be coming to Elle's defense, truth was, he needed some time away from her after everything and this seemed like the smoothest course to take. She was willing to leave and he was willing to leave her behind—for a time. Sam asked if she was sure and she nodded her head. Dean nodded her direction before she got up and hugged him. He patted her back awkwardly before she went over and enveloped Sam in a hug. He hugged her back fiercely.
"You're the one who told me I needed to play the selfish card," Elle whispered in Sam's ear. "And I'm playing it."
Sam nodded his head in understanding before he released his little sister. Elle could swear that there was a slight tear in his eye, threatening to fall. Dean patted Sam's shoulder and they walked out of the Roadhouse. Elle moved to the window to watch her brother's pile into an old truck that Ellen said she could deal without. A tear fell from Elle's eye as she watched her brother's drive away, but knowing that this was for the best. They were far safer without her.
Author's note: This chapter was hard because there were so many retorts set up for Elle—but she isn't taking them. My poor baby. It's hard to write a character who isn't acting like herself! Also, thank you so much for all the support! I can't believe the response this story has gotten and it's all thanks to all ya'll. Next chapter should be original—so wish me luck! Haha! And a special thanks to all those who reviewed UATW!
Remember, feel free to check out Elle's tumblr. Also, I wrote a one-shot called "The Riddle" (it has major spoilers…that most of you have figured out.)