Family is Where the Heart is

Chapter 48

"You got to be kidding me," Dean said as he drove down the highway towards the town the murders were taking place in. "A killer clown?"

"Yeah," Sam replied. He was holding a flashlight over the news articles he was looking over again in the folder, open in his lap. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually."

"And this family was at a carnival that night?" he asked.

"Right, right. The Cooper Carnival."

Dean shrugged, focused on the road ahead, "So, how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho in a clown suit?"

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

"I know what you're thinking, Sam," Dean smirked. "Why did it have to be clowns?"

Sam looked at his brother and rolled his eyes, returning to the folder in his lap, "Oh, give me a break."

He laughed, "You didn't think I remembered, did you? Come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"At least I'm not afraid of flying," Sam pointed out.

"Planes crash," he replied.

"And apparently, clowns kill."

Dean did not respond to that not finding anything to say. Sarah had a reason to be afraid of flying since she was on a plane during a storm with her grandfather, Greg at a young age and it ended up having enough turbulence to scar a kid for life. Dean just did not prefer being on a plane when he knew there could be a chance for it to crash. "So these types of murders," he finally changed the subject back to the job, "they ever happen before?"

"Uh, according to the file," Sam said, looking it over, "1981. The Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. It happened three different times, three different locales."

"It's weird though. If it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale. You know, a house or a town."

"How's this one moving from carnival to carnival?" Sam asked.

"Cursed object, maybe," guessed Dean. "The spirit attaches itself to something, the carnival carries it around with them."

Sam groaned, "Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt."

"Yup," he said. "This case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?" Sam shrugged.

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

He shrugged again, "I don't know. I just think, taking this job, it's what Dad would've wanted us to do."

Dean looked over at his brother, "What Dad would have wanted?"

"Yeah."

Dean looked forward again, in disbelief.

"So?" he questioned.

Dean gave a quick look at him before turning back to the road. "Nothing," he said.

Sam looked back at his brother for a moment, not saying anything before returning to the folder again. After ten minutes of silence, Sam looked up, ahead, thinking of his niece back at the roadhouse and how close she was to his brother. "Hey, uh, Dean."

What?" he replied, still focused on the road.

"Sarah didn't want me to say anything but back at the hospital before you woke up, a boy asked her out. I think there might be a spark between them. She sneaks off in the middle of the night to call him."

Dean kept juggling his focus on his brother and the road. "What boy? How old is he? Where's he from?"

Sam tried to stifle a smile. There wasn't a boy, he just wanted to get Dean's reaction but he continued. "His name's Tim, a year older than her. Already talking about prom and even getting married. They want to name their kids, Dean Jr., Frank, and Melody." Sam looked away, hiding his grin since he couldn't mask it anymore, not expecting Dean to whip out his phone and go into his contacts, looking up Ellen's number he had gotten before they left. He snapped back at his brother when he heard Dean tell Ellen to put his daughter on the phone.

Sarah sat at the bar, a stack of Pokémon cards in front of her, facedown as she slumped over with her chin on the edge of the bar. She drew a card from the top of the deck and placed it next to another that was faced up, putting the Pokémon card that lost into a pile to the side. The place was a little busy now with other hunters.

Sarah wasn't paying anyone else attention and did not hear Jo walk up. "What'cha got there?" Jo asked, wiping off the bar around the little girl's card game. When she didn't respond, Jo bent over to stare at Sarah at eye level. "Hello? Earth to Sarah. Come in, over."

Sarah looked up with just her eyes as Jo smiled at her and repeated what she had asked before. "My Pokémon cards," Sarah replied. "I don't have anyone to battle with so I'm battling myself."

Jo had stood up again. "Oh, cool. I remember that came out when I in middle school, I think. You like that?"

Sarah lifted her head to nod, yes and then lowered it back down onto her chin.

Jo watched as she continued to wipe down the bar. Sarah was drawing another card, placing it next to the victor of the last battle. Finally, Jo asked, "Mind if I ask what happened to your mom?"

"Combination of the demon and a brain tumor," she replied not looking up.

"How long ago did she pass away?"

"A year next month."

"I'm sorry to hear that, I know how it feels to lose a parent as a kid," Jo told her.

"I'm fine," Sarah said like her father would respond.

Jo happened to look over where her mother was working in the kitchen, exchanging looks between each other. Finally, Ellen called over to Sarah, "Gettin' hungry yet, Sarah? I can fix you a grilled cheese if ya like."

Sarah shrugged, "Sure."

The phone on the wall behind the bar rang. Ellen stopped washing a glass, grabbing a hand towel on the way to answer it, drying her hands. "This is Ellen," she said. "Dean? Calm down, here she is." Ellen stretched the phone over to where Sarah was sitting, who had lifted her head when she heard her father's name.

"Dad?" she asked into the phone. "What's wrong?"

"What's this I hear about a boyfriend?" Dean demanded of his daughter. "Just because I tease you about it, doesn't mean I want you start dating already. You're only eight."

Sarah looked like she had no clue what her father was talking about. "Dad, I don't have a boyfriend. Who said I did?"

"Sam says a boy at the hospital asked you out," he told her. "You are too young to be talking marriage and kids, young lady."

"Dad, I do not have a boyfriend. The only ones I talked to at the hospital besides our family was Papa, Gram, and Mark, that's it. I swear. I was too busy worrying about you to see if there was even any other kids there," she tried to tell him, honest as she could.

Dean looked over at his brother who had an oh, shit! look on his face. Sam did not mean to take this that far. He didn't think Dean would lose it. At least not that far.

"Dean, I was kidding. I really did not mean it," Sam tried to dig his way back out of the grave he had just dug himself into.

Dean glared over at him before rolling his eyes away. "Sorry about that, baby girl. But just know this, just because I tease you about that stuff, I don't want you dating until you're my age. Got it? And I want to meet this guy first and he has to be approved by myself, Sam, and possibly Bobby too just to play it safe."

"Considering I still think boys in that way are still disgusting to me, that will not be a problem," Sarah assured her father.

"Okay, baby girl," he grinned, glad to hear his only daughter say that about boys. "Aside from that, are you okay? I hear a bunch of people. Is the place packed now?"

Sarah looked back around the place at all the hunters, talking and drinking. "Yeah, I didn't know there were so many hunters out there besides our family."

"There's hunters all over the place out there, we just don't make it known. We don't gather in groups and hold raffles. Just make sure you stay in Ellen or Jo's sight. Understand? Do not talk to any of them."

"What if they talk to me first?" Sarah asked. "I can't ignore them that'll be rude."

"Tell them your dad says you can't talk and if they have a problem they can deal with me. Still can't believe I let you and Sam talk me into leaving you behind." Dean was mostly thinking out loud with that last part.

"Dad, I'll be fine, all right? Remember, I took down my six-foot tall uncle with one punch," she reminded him. "And you taught me everything I know. You said it yourself, I'm a Winchester." The roadhouse got deathly quiet when the name Winchester was mentioned.

Jo looked up from pouring a glass of beer for a forty-three-year-old, rugged-looking hunter as Sarah noticed, too.

She looked back, scanning around the room, "This is awkward," Sarah said.

Dean knew what she meant. He was wondering why it had gotten so quiet in the background.

Ellen came to Sarah's rescue, "Uh, Sarah, could you come help me with something?" she asked.

"Sure, Miss Ellen," she replied. "I have to go, Dad. Miss Ellen needs help."

"All right, baby girl," he said. "I will see you when we get back. I love you."

"Love you, too, Dad." Sarah handed Jo the phone who hung it up before gathering up her Pokémon cards and jumped off the stool. She hurried into the kitchen catching murmurs of There's another Winchester? and That's gotta be Dean Winchester's kid. "Yes, Miss Ellen?" Sarah asked of her.

Ellen was busy cooking. "Maybe you should hang out in here until closing time," she suggested. "I didn't think how much you being a Winchester would make a fuss around here. Word can spread among hunters."

"Okay," she shrugged. "Need any help for real?"

"Nah, it's not as busy as it usually is. Everything's under control," Ellen smiled at her.

Sarah walked over to the kitchen table that was in there and sat down in one of the chairs.

Ellen watched her as she grilled a couple steaks, flipping them over now and then. "So, what did your dad want?"

"Uncle Sam told him I had a boyfriend now," she replied, restarting her card game. "I don't though and I don't want one. Boys can be my friend. I don't mind that."

"So you don't like boys unless they are your friend," Ellen tried to figure out. "Seems like a good idea. You have a long life ahead of you."

"Dad says I can't date until I'm twenty-seven, and he, Uncle Sam, and Uncle Bobby has to meet him first," she explained what Dean had told her.

"Uncle Bobby? Bobby Singer?" she asked Sarah.

"Yeah. You know him?" Sarah asked, too.

"There is rarely a hunter I don't know, but yeah, I know him. Haven't talked in while, though."

Sarah was sitting back against the back of the chair, looking over at Ellen. "We're staying at Uncle Bobby's house while Dad and I rebuild the car. My dad has the coolest car ever. It's a 1967 Chevy Impala. Grandpa gave it to Dad for his eighteenth birthday and Dad's gonna pass it to me when I turn eighteen. Uncle Sam is mad about that but Dad says he trusts me more to take care of it because Uncle Sam doesn't know anything about cars like we do."

"How old are you, sweetie?" Ellen had been wondering how old Sarah was since she heard the kid speak.

"Eight."

"Eight?" she asked, surprised. "Wow, I'm impressed. I thought you were eleven."

Sarah sighed, "I get that a lot. I have a high IQ for someone my age and a good memory."

"Bet your mom and dad are proud," Ellen smiled.

She shook her head. "My mom was never proud of anything I did. Dad says I make him proud every day, though."

"I heard you telling Jo out there, she passed away a year ago. What did you mean by a combination of the demon and a brain tumor?" Ellen was making up a couple dinner plates now.

Sarah explained about what really caused the tumor to grow, eventually leading into her past as Ellen moved around the kitchen, tending to customers' orders and washing dishes. The conversation carried on passed closing time. By the time, Sarah knew it, she, Ellen, and Jo were having a late dinner at the table.

"I'm so sorry you had a mom like that," Jo said.

Sarah shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "I'm fine," she said. "I have my dad and uncles, and that's all I need…I guess." Sarah looked down at what was left of the macaroni and cheese Ellen had made for her, thinking about her grandfather again.

"Is there something else you want to talk about?" Ellen asked, concerned.

She shook her head at her dinner, "No, I said I was fine."

"We're here if you want to talk," said Jo. "Is it your mom?"

Sarah shot her head up at them, "What part of fine don't you get?"

"Don't yell at us," Ellen told her in a stern voice. "We just figured since you opened up to us already, you're comfortable talking with what's bugging you. If you don't want to talk, that's fine."

Sarah sat there, staring at her food still. "I'm sorry, Miss Ellen, Miss Jo. Mind if I be excused?"

"Yes you may. Want that ice for your shoulder now?"

She nodded, slowly.

Ellen stood up and headed to the freezer to make up an ice pack, putting ice cubes into a sandwich bag and wrapped it in a paper towel. Sarah tossed her leftover food into the trash and put her bowl in the sink before taking the ice pack from Ellen, thanking her and headed to the extra bedroom in the back.

Sarah lied down on one of the beds, on her right side and held the ice pack to her shoulder, wishing her father was there. After lying there for an hour, Ellen knocked on the door, sticking her head in.

"Hey, I wanted to check on you. I'm heading to bed, need anything?" she asked.

Sarah shook her head, not looking up.

"I'm straight down the hall if you need anything and Jo's across the hall. Okay?"

She nodded, this time.

Ellen stepped into the room to set Sarah's cards on top of her duffel bag. "You left your cards in the kitchen. They're on top of your bag." Ellen watched her lay there, staring at the far wall on the other side of the room. Every motherly instinct told her to go over and hug the little girl but she stifled it. "Bathroom's right next to you on the left. Good night."

"'Night," Sarah replied, somberly.

Ellen left, shutting the door behind her.

Sarah pulled out the photo she had given back to John and stared at her grandfather as a tear flowed down her cheek.

"Hello, Sarah."

Sarah jumped, lifting her head to see the demon sitting on the other bed, smiling at her. Angrily, she sat up. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd check up on you. You know, see how you're doing," he said.

""What did you do to my grandpa?"

"Nothing, it was all his idea," the demon shrugged. "I just helped him help your dad."

Sarah eyed him, suspiciously, "I don't believe you. What are you talking about?"

"Now Sarah, I figured of the three of you, you'd be able to figure out what your grandfather did. Your daddy mysteriously wakes up and then your grandfather dies. Think about it."

She bit her lower lip. Sarah did not want it to be true but feared her grandfather had made a deal with the demon to save her father. "But I thought you get ten years. Why did Grandpa die now?"

The demon leaned on his left knee. "Let's just say, he got a raw deal," he smirked.

Sarah leaped to her feet. "You're supposed to give him ten years, that's the deal. That's what it says in my book."

"Not necessary, it depends on the person and how valuable the soul is."

"So my grandpa is down in hell, right now?" she questioned the demon.

"Experiencing the worse pain imaginable," the demon smirked.

"You son of a…" Sarah made a dash for her bag, grabbing her gun, pointing it at the demon who continued to smile.

"Wrong gun, Sarah, you need this, remember?" The demon pulled the Colt out from inside his jacket.

Sarah stared at it, seeing if she could make it come to her. She figured if she just thought about her father in danger, it could work but it didn't and only caused a headache.

The demon smirked again, "See ya later, Sarah." And with that, he was gone, leaving Sarah alone.

Sarah lowered the gun and fell back against the door, more tears falling. A knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.

"Everything all right, Sarah?" she heard Jo call through the door. "I heard you talking to someone."

"No, just talking to myself," Sarah called back, lying.

"Okay," it sounded like Jo didn't believe her but did not argue. "Good night."

"Yeah. Good night." Sarah listened until she was sure Jo had gone into her own room and walked over to climb on to the bed, sitting back on her legs. She stared at the pillow before she started punching it, repeatedly with her right fist. "Stupid demon! Stupid demon! Stupid demon! You ruin everything!" she said, out loud, trying to keep her voice down. "I hate you!"

Sarah thought about her grandfather and what she had learned in Sunday school about what hell was like which only made her anger rise even more as she got louder, tears pouring from her eyes. It eventually brought Ellen, Jo, and Ash in.

Ellen opened the door as Ash asked, "What the hell is going on in here?"

They watched as Sarah continued punching the pillow, screaming out her hatred for all demons now. Ellen and Jo hurried over and grabbed a hold of the little girl, trying to calm her down.

Sarah out of nowhere clung onto Ellen, surprisingly both women. Ellen didn't fight it, though. She rubbed the girl's back as she held her in her arms. "Settle down, you're okay," Ellen assured her as Sarah sobbed into her left shoulder.

Jo watched, standing beside the bed now. Ash had gone back to his room. Ellen and Jo exchanged looks between each other as Ellen continued to hold Sarah. After a while, Sarah cried herself to sleep. Jo had noticed the picture of John and his boys and picked it up to get a better look at it as Ellen laid Sarah down, on the well-fluffed, one could say, pillow and Jo passed the picture to her mother.

Ellen took it and looked the picture over, recognizing John. At least they knew what was wrong with her now.