Author's Note: Well, you can thank a trip to NYC for this chapter being completed today. After all the walking I did, including walking across the Brooklyn Bridge and back, I could barely walk today. So there was nothing preventing me from working on this chapter! So two big things yesterday...I got to cross crossing the Brooklyn Bridge off my bucket list and I realized I should join a gym. But, hey, at least I lost three pounds! Anyway, I really love this chapter and had a good time writing it. I hope you all enjoy reading it and if you have time please leave a review. Thanks for reading!
*** For those of you who don't realize this, Fallon is from an Italian heritage. She curses in Italian in this chapter. I did Google the Italian word for fuck and got cazzo. I am not a hundred percent sure I have that right and apologize if it is wrong. If you know the correct word please let me know and I will fix it. ***
Disclaimer: I own nothing from Supernatural. The script and characters all belong to the amazing writers and creators of the television show. Only Fallon is mine.
Fallon was sitting cross legged on the trunk of a rusted-up car watching Dean work on the Impala. The same thing she had done every day in the week since their father had been put to rest. Fallon had to admit she was impressed with the work Dean had done on the car. When she first arrived on Bobby's car lot the Impala had been nothing more than a twisted hunk of metal. A week later and it still needed a ton of work, but the frame looked like a car again. She had made sure to praise Dean's work earlier that morning and had been rewarded with a small smile. For the past week, she had done everything in her power to get that reaction from him. Every day she followed him out into the yard and watched him work on his car.
Both boys were a wreck over their father's death, but pain seemed to radiate from Dean in waves and soak up the air around him. Dean was drowning in his grief, and Fallon was determined to pull him back to the surface. So, she made herself available to him at almost all hours of the day. Some days she just sat there quietly and neither spoke. Other days she would prattle on and on about her old life, even when she knew he wasn't really listening to her. Once, he had initiated the conversation and the two had talked about music. She took her cues from Dean depending on the day to determine what he needed.
Of course, she tried to do what she could for Sam as well, but he didn't seem to want her company. Whenever she wandered into Bobby's house to check on him he was buried deep in John's notes on the demon they were hunting or trying to crack the code on his father's phone to his voicemail. He seemed to be determined to get revenge for what had happened. After blocking Fallon out for two days Bobby must have said something to Sam because on the third day he'd apologized and spent a half hour discussing possible options about ganking the demon before he dismissed her and started looking through his father's notes again.
So, at the end of the week Fallon took her usual seat in the junkyard and was watching Dean work when Sam came outside. He smiled at Fallon as he approached before looking over the Impala.
"How's the car coming along?" he asked.
"Slow," Dean answered coming out from under the hood.
"It's coming along though," Fallon said. "I can't believe what he's been able to do in only one week."
"Yeah?" Sam replied. "Need any help?"
"What, you under a hood?" Dean scoffed. "I'll pass. Besides, I already have Fallon to pass me the tools. She gets them right about fifty percent of the time, too."
"Har, har," Fallon laughed sarcastically and Dean shot her a real smile this time.
"Need anything else, then?" Sam asked.
The smile dropped immediately from Dean's face. "Stop it, Sam," he said.
"Stop what?" Sam questioned.
"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay," Dean replied. "I'm okay. Really. I promise."
"Alright Dean, it's just…we've been at Bobby's for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once."
"You know what? You're right," Dean snapped. "Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance."
"Dean, he's just looking out for you," Fallon soothed sliding off the trunk of the car and walking up to the boys. "You both need to cut each other some slack."
Dean snorted. "Fine, I'll cut Mr. Sensitive some slack," he said.
"Don't patronize me, Dean," Sam cried. "Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened. Both of you are."
"What do want me to say?" Dean cried. "What do you want Fallon to say?"
"Say something, alright?" Sam yelled. "Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all the two of you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car."
"Revenge, huh?" Dean questioned.
"Yeah," Sam replied.
"Sounds good," Dean said. "You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it…oh. No, wait, like you said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it. We've got nothing Sam. Nothing, okay? So, you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car."
"Well, we've got something all right?" Sam replied.
"Sam, can this wait?" Fallon asked feeling drained.
"No, I think it could be relative," Sam replied pulling out their father's cell phone. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." He held the phone out so they could all hear and let the voicemail play. A woman's voice filled the lot around them.
"John, it's Ellen," she said. "Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me."
"That message is four months old," Sam said.
"That's a long time to keep a message in your voicemail," Fallon commented.
"Dad saved this chick's message for four months?" Dean questioned. Sam nodded. "Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"
"No," Sam answered. "But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address."
"Well, let's go," Fallon said. "It can't hurt to check it out. Think Bobby will let us use on if his cars?"
Bobby did let them use one of his cars. Unfortunately, the only car in working order was a minivan, which Dean was still grumbling about as they pulled up to their destination.
"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!"
"It's the only car Bobby had running," Sam said for the millionth time.
"Let's just find Ellen, shall we?" Fallon cut in. The three walked into the bar.
"Hello?" Sam called out. "Anybody here?" They walked around the empty bar. Well, it was empty except for them and some guy passed out on a table in the back.
"I guess the owner is letting him sleep it off?" Fallon said.
"Guess so," Sam replied. "Come on, you and I will check out the back room. Fallon followed him through a door. The backroom turned out to be the kitchen. It looked just as empty as the barroom. Sam started walking off in one direction so she decided to explore another part of the room. She walked through a shelf filled with spices and other ingredients only to come face to face with a middle-aged woman…who was staring at her in shock.
"Oh, you can see me," Fallon said. "And you're probably wondering why I can walk through shelves. Well, don't freak out but…. Hey!" Fallon shrieked in pain as the woman threw salt on her she had grabbed from the shelf. Before Fallon could recover the woman had her in a salt circle. "What the hell?"
"Fallon?!" Sam called.
"Sam!" Fallon called. "I think this might be Ellen." She watched as the woman walked off towards Sam and heard a slight struggle. When she heard the woman ushering Sam out of the room she figured out who won. She looked around her desperate. She needed to get to Sam and Dean. Suddenly, her eyes landed on a window that was almost right in front of her. It had been breezy outside. She thought if she could get the window open the wind might break the salt circle. Figuring she had nothing to lose she lift her hands out in front of her and raised them up slightly, palms facing the ceiling. The window opened a crack. Excited she tried again, this time with more focus. The window shot up and a blast of air rushed in… breaking the salt circle.
Smiling in delight Fallon rushed out of the circle and barged back into the main room where both Sam and Dean were being held at gun point. "Let them go!" she ordered.
The woman turned and stared at her in shock. "How did you get out of the salt circle."
"I opened a window."
"What?" Dean asked.
"I opened the window and a blast of wind broke the salt circle," Fallon explained and then glanced around at the group's incredulous faces. "I'm a freaking badass!"
"Yeah, okay," Dean huffed.
"Admit it, Dean. You're impressed," Fallon said.
"Dean?" the woman who had trapped her said. "Winchester?"
"Yeah," Sam and Dean both said.
"Son of a bitch!" Ellen exclaimed.
"Mom, you know these guys?" the blonde girl who had a gun on Dean asked. She looked to be about Fallon's age.
"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys," Ellen replied lowering her gun. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter, Jo."
Jo lowered her gun. "Hey," she said.
"Fallon Romano, if anyone cares," Fallon piped up.
Ellen turned to look at her. "I heard there was a ghost traveling with the Winchesters," she said. "I should have caught on sooner."
"She's not vengeful," Dean said walking towards Fallon.
"Not yet," Ellen said. "But I have no problem with her being around until that day comes. Now what are you two boys doing here?"
"You called our dad," Dean said. "You said you could help. With what?
"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen replied. "I heard he was closing in on it."
"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean questioned sarcastically. "I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"
"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen said. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."
"How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean asked.
"You'd have to ask him that," Ellen replied.
"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked defensively.
"Oh, for the love of God, Dean," Fallon snapped. "Why don't you just shine an interrogation light on her? Quit playing bad cop."
Ellen smiled at her before turning back to Dean. "Look, if you don't want my help, fine," she said. "Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if…" She cut off and her expression changed as she realized the truth. "He didn't send you." Dean looked away from her. "He's alright, isn't he?"
"No. No, he…" Sam choked off.
"John died a few weeks ago," Fallon finished for him. "We think it was the demon."
"I'm so sorry," Ellen said to the boys.
"It's okay," Dean said roughly. "We're alright.
"Really?" Ellen questioned. "I know how close you and your dad were."
"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean snapped defensively.
"Dean," Fallon scolded lightly placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She felt his tension leave his shoulders at the action.
"Look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get," Sam said breaking the awkward silence.
"Well, we can't, but Ash will," Ellen said.
"Who's Ash?" Sam asked.
"Ash!" Ellen called loudly and the unconscious man on the table jerked awake.
"What?" he asked groggily. "It closin' time?"
"That's Ash?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Mm-hmmm," Jo hummed. "He's a genius."
"I'm a genius," Fallon stated. "I have an IQ if 183. He's a small-town drunk."
"Just give him a chance," Jo said.
Dean sighed and passed the man a manila folder as they sat down at the bar. "Alright, this stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work," Dean explained. "Let's see what you make of it."
Ash skimmed through the folder. "Come on," he sighed. "This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody who can track a demon like this."
"Our dad could," Sam said.
"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean… damn!" Ash exclaimed. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track them you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms… You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun?"
"I feel like that explains so much," Fallon commented wryly.
"So can you track it or not?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, with this I think so," Ash replied. "But it's gonna take time. Give me…. fifty-one hours." He got up and started to wander towards the kitchen.
"Hey, man?" Dean called out to him.
"Yeah?" Ash asked.
"I, uh, dig the haircut," Dean said referring to his mullet.
"All business up front, party in the back," Ash replied before disappearing behind the kitchen door.
"Do me a favor," Fallon said. "Don't ever style your hair like that."
Dean laughed. "Since when do I ever do you favors?" he teased ruffling her hair.
"Dean!" she snapped annoyed. She then noticed Dean's attention drifting off towards Jo as she passed them and he got up to follow her. Fallon scowled and moved over to sit by Sam.
"Please don't go all 'Mean Girls' on her," Sam pleaded.
"Just because I was a mean girl in high school doesn't mean I am now," Fallon replied testily.
"Right," Sam replied giving her a look. He then frowned as he noticed a stack of files on a table behind the bar. "Hey, Ellen, what is that?"
"It's a police scanner," Ellen said referring to the device next to the files. "We keep tabs on things, we…"
"He meant the folder," Fallon cut her off still pouting over Dean ditching her.
"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look it you want," Ellen said passing the folder over to them.
"You know, I used to pick up guys at bars not jobs," Fallon huffed.
"You're not the only one who misses those days," Ellen replied as she walked off to clean something.
"What do you say?" Sam asked skimming through the folder. "Ready for a hunt?"
"I'm not the one you need to get on board," Fallon said. "I've got nothing better to do with my time. But Dean has been avoiding life for the past two weeks so…"
"I got the point," Sam interrupted her. "You know, you can turn into a real bitch when there are other women around."
"No girl likes other girls, Sam," Fallon said.
Sam rolled his eyes and turned in his seat to face Dean. "Dean, come here. Check this out."
"Yeah?" Dean questioned rejoining them at the bar.
"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of," Sam explained. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."
"So?" Dean replied.
"So, I told her we'd check it out," Sam answered.
"Always the volunteer," Dean grumbled. "I'll meet you out at the car."
"Liar, liar, pants on fire," Fallon said as they watched Dean stalk out the door.
"I got him to go on the hunt, didn't I?" Sam replied smugly.
"You've got to be kidding me," Dean cried as they drove towards the hunt. "A killer clown?"
"I already don't like this case," Fallon said from the backseat.
"Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents," Sam explained. "Ripped them to pieces, actually."
"And this family was at a carnival that night?" Dean questioned.
"Right," Sam replied. "The Cooper Carnivals."
"So what makes you think this isn't just some crazed carney?" Fallon asked. "I mean, carnivals are known for hiring sketchy employees."
"Well, the cops have no visible leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop," Sam answered. "Alibis all around. Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."
"To be fair, it really could just be trauma," Fallon said. "I'd be traumatized if my parents were ripped to shred by some clown."
Dean chuckled. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"
"Oh, give me a break," Sam grumbled.
"Sam, you're afraid of clowns?" Fallon asked amused.
"Yeah, he is," Dean exclaimed cheerfully. "I mean he still busts out crying when he sees Ronald McDonald on t.v."
"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying," Sam shot back.
"Planes crash!" Dean cried.
"And, apparently, clowns kill!" Sam retorted.
"Okay, that's enough you two," Fallon broke up the argument. "Everyone's afraid of something. There's no reason to rib each other over it."
"Yeah, you're right, it's…was that a bee?"
"Where?" Fallon shrieked grabbing the door handle to jump out.
"He was messing with you there's no bee," Sam said over Dean's laughing. "Dean, that's not funny. It took her months to stop flinching whenever she even thought she heard something buzz."
"Alight, alright," Dean replied still chuckling a little. "Sorry, Fallon."
"Let's just refocus on the case, shall we?' Fallon said tersely.
"These types of murders ever happen before?" Dean questioned.
"According to the file," Sam said, "1981, the Bunker Brother's Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales."
"It's weird though," Dean commented. "I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific location."
"Not for all of us," Fallon said. "I can go wherever. But if it's a ghost that plays by the normal rules maybe it's attached to an object?"
"Great," Sam huffed. "Paranormal scavenger hunt."
"Well this case was your idea," Dean pointed out. "I thought you were hell bent for leather on the demon hunt."
"I don't know," Sam sighed. "I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."
"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Yeah. So?"
"Nothin'," Dean replied. Fallon groaned to herself in the backseat. She had the feeling she'd be playing the mediator between the two boys soon enough.
Fallon wandered around the carnival trying to see if she could sense any cursed object. So far, the only thing she sensed were the parents' growing weariness as their kids dragged them from attraction to attraction. She had just passed one game stall when she heard one kid start to whine
"One more time, Mommy! I want the big gorilla!" the kid pleaded tugging at her mother's skirt to keep her in place. Fallon walked back over and checked out the game. It was the one where you had to get the whiffle balls into the red cup to win the big prize. Fallon smiled. She had been a big fan of this game herself when she was a kid.
"Just one more game, Hilary," the mother sighed as she exasperatedly handed over another five-dollar bill to the game attendant. Fallon watched the girl toss the whiffle ball. It over shot the red cup by a mile, but before it could land in one of the plain, white cups Fallon extended a hand and forced in back until it plopped into the red solo cup.
"Mommy, I won!" the girl shrieked, ecstatic.
"That's great, honey," the mother replied forcing a smile as she held onto the giant gorilla.
"That was nice of you," Dean commented.
Fallon smiled up at him. "It's nice to win sometimes," she said shrugging. "Besides, I always wanted to win the stuffed animals when I was a kid."
"You'd want the giant gorilla, huh?" Dean laughed.
"Well, actually, in this instance I would have wanted the fluffy, white baby seal," she replied referencing one of the medium sized animals, "but I wouldn't have turned my nose up at the gorilla."
Dean laughed again. "You're a nut," he teased. "Come on, let's find Sam. I've got news regarding the case." The two began to meander their way through the crowd until they spotted Sam standing alone looking very uncomfortable as the bearded lady walked past him.
"Did you get her number?" Dean teased.
"What have you found out?" Sam asked scowling. "Anymore murders?"
"Two more last night," Dean confirmed. "Apparently, they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them."
"Who fingered a clown," Sam said,
"Phrasing!" Fallon cried.
"Hilarious," Sam replied.
"Yeah, a clown," Dean said. "Who apparently vanished into thin air.:
"Dean, you know looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles," Sam said. "They could be anything. Even with Fallon's help we don't have much of an advantage."
"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything," Dean replied. "Whoever doesn't get the scanner takes Fallon."
"Oh, good, that's nice and…. Inconspicuous," Sam said.
"I guess we'll just have to blend in," Dean replied staring at a help wanted sign.
"Well, this'll be a new disguise for you two," Fallon commented as she followed the boys into a show tent. Inside a man was throwing knives at a target. Dean approached him.
"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?" he asked.
The man whirled around. "What is that? Some kind of joke?" the man snapped pulling off his sunglasses to reveal clouded eyes. Fallon instantly started laughing at Dean's face. He looked mortified.
"Oh, God, I'm, I'm sorry," he spluttered.
"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper?" the blind man continued to rant. "Or anything at all?"
"Wanna give me a little help here?" Dean hissed at Sam.
"Not really," Sam chuckled enjoying Dean's discomfort as much as Fallon.
"Hey man, is there a problem?" another man walked into the tent. This circus performer was a midget.
"Yeah, this guy hates blind people," the blind man accused.
"No, I don't, I…"
"Hey buddy, what's your problem," the little man cried.
"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding," Dean said quickly. Fallon fell to her knees she was laughing so hard.
"Little?" the midget cried indignantly. "You son of a bitch!"
"Could someone just tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Dean cried exasperated. "Please?"
"Right over here, boy," a gruff sounding old man called. "Why is it you need to see me?"
"We're looking for employment," Sam said.
"Follow me," the man replied and led them back out of the tent and into a trailer. "You boys picked a hell of a time to join up. We've got all kinds of local trouble."
"What do you mean?" Dean questioned.
"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered," Mr. Cooper said. "Cops always seem to start here first. "So, you two ever worked the circuit before?"
"Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas," Sam lied.
"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper asked. "Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?"
"Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything," Sam hedged.
"Smooth," Fallon remarked.
"You two have never worked a show a day in your lives, have you?" Mr. Cooper called them out.
"Nope," Dean replied honestly. "But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." Fallon hid a smile at Sam's indignant expression.
Mr. Cooper stood up. "You see that picture?" he asked pointing to a black and white photo hung on the wall adjacent to his desk. "That's my daddy."
"You look just like him," Sam commented.
"He was in the business. Ran a freak show," Mr. Cooper continued. "Til they outlawed them. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's progress. You see, this place is a refugee for outcasts. But you two? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two point five kids. Live regular."
"Sir?" Sam said leaning forward. "We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this."
"Huh," Dean huffed as they exited his office.
"What?" Sam questioned.
"That whole I don't want to go back to school thing," Dean replied. "Were you just saying that to Cooper, or were you, you know, saying it?"
"I don't think now's the time to psycho analyze, Dean," Fallon said as Sam answered, "I don't know." Dean of course, ignored her.
"You don't know?" he questioned. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."
"I'm having second thoughts," Sam replied.
"Really?" Dean said.
"Okay, you two, I think you can have this discussion later," Fallon tried to interject again. She could spot a fight brewing between these two boys a mile away. And they always tried to put her in the middle.
This time it was Sam who ignored her. "Dad would have wanted me to stick to the job," Sam said.
"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean snapped. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."
"Since he died, okay?" Sam cut back. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Okay, that's enough!" Fallon cried stepping between the two. "We have a job to do. Sam, come with me. I'll let you know if I sense any cursed object."
Fallon went off around the carnival with Sam. He was quiet for a few moments as they walked around and Fallon was scanning the carnival for any possible cursed object. But the quiet didn't last.
"Fallon? What the demon showed us that night… did that really happen to you?" Sam asked. "Did Evan…"
"Don't Sam!" Fallon snapped.
"So, you were raped," Sam said.
"Sam," Fallon warned.
"I'm so sorry, Fallon," Sam said. "Why did you never tell me."
"Because I never told anyone, Sam!" Fallon yelled. "I just wanted to move on with my life."
"I just think maybe if you talked to someone about it, you might feel better," Sam persisted.
"Okay, I'm done talking about this," Fallon said.
"I'm just trying to make sure that you're okay," Sam replied.
"I'm fine," Fallon told him. "Can we just get back to the job at hand?"
Sam sighed. "Yeah, okay," he agreed. "Let's check out the funhouse." Fallon stormed ahead of him into the funhouse leaving Sam hurrying to catch up. She ignored him as they made their way through the funhouse. Fallon put all her attention into detecting a cursed object, but nothing was triggering her senses. As they turned one corner a skeleton fell from the ceiling. Caught by surprise Fallon screamed and pushed Sam in front of her,
Sam laughed. "Relax, Fallon, it's not real," he told her. "Although…?"
"Although what?" Fallon asked.
"What if instead of a cursed object this spirit is attached to its own remains," Sam said.
Fallon paled. "You mean this carnival is carrying around human remains?" she squeaked and looked back at the skeleton and frowned. "But those are fake."
"I still think we should look into it," Sam replied. "I'm going to call Dean." He and Fallon made their way out of the fun house and then waited for Dean, who took his own sweet time getting to them.
"Where the hell were you?" Fallon asked. "Why did it take you so long to get here?"
"Long story," Dean sighed. "So, have you got anything else?"
Fallon was about to answer when she heard a little girl shouting in excitement. "Mommy, look a clown!" The three glanced to where the girl was pointing.
"There's nothing there," Sam said.
"Fallon, what does it look like?" Dean asked.
Fallon shook her head, confused. "I can't see it either," she told them.
"You can't see it?" Dean asked surprised.
"Can you sense it?" Sam asked.
"Barely," Fallon replied.
"Well, at least we know who it's targeting next," Dean replied. "We're going to have to stakeout their place. Fallon, stay with them and follow them home. You can get back to us with their address."
"Yeah, sure, no problem," Fallon agreed.
Later that night the three of them were parked outside the family's house. Sam was bitching at Dean. "I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown."
"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown," Dean replied. "I never said it was real." He then pulled out his gun and cocked it. Fallon kicked the back of his seat hard.
"Put that down!" she hissed. "If someone looks out their windows and sees you waving a gun around they'll call the cops!"
Dean gave her a look before continuing with his story. "I mentioned the Bunker Brother Circus in '81. Guess what?"
"What?" Sam humored him.
"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers," Dean replied. "He was their lot manager."
"So, Mr. Cooper's the one carrying around this cursed object?" Fallon asked. "Or remains?"
"Something like that," Dean said and then shook his head. "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."
"We could talk about something else," Sam suggested looking at Fallon in the rearview mirror.
"Shut up, Sam!" Fallon snapped.
"Oh no, you two aren't fighting, are you?" Dean asked warily.
"No, we're not," Fallon replied testily. "Just, let's focus on what we're doing here." The three waited then in silence until they saw a clown approaching the front door, which opened for it a moment later. The three rushed into the house. Sam snatched the kid out of harm's way while Dean shot a rock salt bullet at the spirit. But instead of disappearing the spirit it hit something solid.
"What the hell?" Fallon cried confused, but before any of them could do anything else the little girl's parents were rushing towards them. In the commotion that followed the thing they were hunting got a way and the three had to make a quick exit. Dean started the half broken down many van and floored it. The drove well into the afternoon and had cleared the town. He drove it off the road and he and Sam started to grab their stuff.
"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked.
"I don't wanna take the chance," Dean replied. "Besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway." The three started to walk down the road back towards town. "Well, one thing's for sure. We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."
"Yeah, a person?" Sam questioned.
"If it's a person this job should be left for the police," Fallon commented.
"It could be a creature that can make itself invisible," Sam suggested. "Even to ghosts."
"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?" Dean snorted. "Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"
"Nope," Sam replied pulling out his phone.
"Who are you calling?" Dean asked.
"Maybe Ellen or that guy, Ash, will know something," Sam replied. "Hey, you think, uh, Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
"No way," Dean answered.
"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam questioned.
"I don't know maybe they had some kind of falling out," Dean snapped.
"You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" Sam commented. Fallon bit her lip. She had a few guesses as to why John couldn't keep any friends, but considering the fact the man was now dead she decided to keep those opinions to herself. Suddenly, she heard Sam's frustrated sigh. "Don't get all maudlin on me, man."
"Oh, here we go," Fallon sighed.
"What do you mean?" Dean asked tiredly.
"I mean that this strong, silent thing of yours, it's crap," Sam cried.
"Oh, god," Dean muttered.
"I'm over it," Sam declared. "This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."
"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean snapped. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to."
"No, no, no. That's not what this is about," Sam insisted. "I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it man. I mean, you and Fallon have to deal with what's happened."
"Sam," Fallon said.
"No, seriously, Fallon, listen," Sam exclaimed. "You've been just as bad as he is. You keep going back and forth making sure we're okay, but that's just so you don't have to think about what happened to you. And you've been bottling that up for years. I mean you told me yesterday you never told anyone that Evan raped you. It's not healthy to…."
"SHUT UP!" Fallon screeched, her anger so strong the wind around them picked up and Sam was shoved back a little, stumbling to stay upright.
"Fallon," Dean tried to intervene but she ignored him.
"I don't want to talk about!" Fallon shouted. "I don't want to think about what he did to me! About how dirty I felt after. And you have no right to make me talk about it."
"Fallon, that's not what I was trying…"
"Don't, Sam!" Fallon cut him off. "Just leave me alone." She turned on her heels and stormed away from him. She walked fast and then faster feeling like something was trying to catch her. She walked until she felt the panic and all the emotions she had felt that night catch up to her and she found herself gasping for air she did not need anymore. She squeezed her head between her hands with her eyes clenched shut, trying to block out the memory.
"Hey!" she heard Dean's voice call out in concern. And then his hands were gently lowering hers. "Fallon…"
"Don't!" she screeched backing away from him. "I don't want to…. I can't…I can't…"
Dean raised his hands as if surrendering. "I'm not trying to make you talk about it," he told her. "I get it okay? Some things are better off left in the past. I just want to make sure you're okay, alright?" Fallon took in a few more shaking breaths as he spoke to her before finally falling out of her defensive position. The second she did Dean had his arms around her pulling her in tight to him. She let herself be hugged for a moment before pulling back.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"For what?" Dean asked. "Being upset? Sam should have backed off."
"He was just trying to be a good friend," Fallon said.
"Yeah, well, you said you didn't want to talk about it, so he should have listened to you," Dean huffed. Fallon gave him a small smile. He smiled back for a moment before a more serious expression formed on his face and he shifted on his feet awkwardly. "Look, I know you don't want to talk about it."
"Dean…"
"Let me finish, please?" Dean said. She nodded. "I know you don't want to talk about it, and I'm not asking you to. But if you ever did want to talk about it, well, I'll listen." Fallon smiled and this time she hugged him. She wasn't even surprised when she felt his around her shoulder, returning the hug. When they stepped away from each other they saw Sam approaching them.
"Rakshasa," he stated.
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"Ellen's best guess," Sam replied. "It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they can't enter a house without first being invited."
"So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in," Dean said. "Why don't they just munch on the kids?"
"Not enough meat? Maybe this one has their own moral code?" Fallon suggested. "Who knows."
"What else did you find out?" Dean asked.
"Well, apparently, they live in squalor," Sam replied. "They sleep on a bed of dead insects."
"Eww," Fallon groaned.
"And they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years," Sam continued. "Slow metabolism, I guess."
"Well, that makes sense," Dean said. "The carnival today, the Bunker Brokers in '81."
"And probably more before that if we looked back further," Fallon added.
"Who do we know that worked both shows though?" Dean pointed out.
"Cooper," Sam and Fallon said together.
"Here's the most important question," Fallon said. "How do we kill it?"
"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass," Sam replied.
"Oh, because those are so easy to come by," Fallon sighed.
"I think I know where to get one of those," Dean said.
"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure that it's him," Sam cautioned.
"Oh, you're such a sticker for details, Sammy," Dean teased. "Alright, I'll round up the blade, you and Fallon go check if Cooper's got bed bugs."
They split up as they re-entered the carnival grounds. It was after hours now, and the grounds were deserted. Fallon and Sam walked in silence for a moment before Sam stuck his arm out in front of Fallon to stop her. She stared up at him confused.
"I'm sorry," Sam said. "I shouldn't have pushed you to talk about what happened. I was just worried about you, but I shouldn't have kept pushing after you said you didn't want to talk about it. In that regards, I guess I'm no better than Evan."
"Okay, drama queen, you can stop the performance," Fallon laughed. "Sam, you are not Evan. Don't ever think that about yourself again. And you don't have to be sorry. You were just being my friend. Look, I know bottling the incident up and pretending like it never happened isn't healthy, but…. I just can't think about it, okay? It's not just the act anymore. It's all the what ifs. What if I had reported it? What if it had led me to at the very least get a restraining order against Evan? I can't let myself think about things I can't change. It makes it so much harder."
Sam nodded. "None of that should have happened to you, Fallon," he said softly. "I want you to know that. And I get it. I won't ask you to talk about it anymore. But I'm here if you ever can."
"I know you are," Fallon said smiling. "You're my best friend, Sammy." Sam smiled at her before pulling her into a hug.
"C'mon," he said when they broke apart. "Let's go investigate Cooper. They approached his trailer and Fallon phased through the wall before unlocking the door for Sam. Sam knelt down and sliced through the mattress. They both took in the fact that there was not one bug inside before the sound of a shotgun being cocked had them spinning around. Mr. Cooper was standing in the door of the trailer with his gun pointed at Sam.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked.
"Uh…" Sam replied. "I was um… I mean…."
"Thought you'd come in here hoping I was naked, did you?" Mr. Cooper accused. Fallon didn't even bother forcing back a laugh at the disgusted look on Sam's face.
"No. That's not why I…"
"Look, let's not make a big deal out of this," Mr. Cooper declared. "You're going to leave this trailer and then I don't want to ever see your face around this carnival again, got it?"
"Yes sir," Sam replied swiftly getting to his feet. He walked quickly past Mr. Cooper and out of the trailer.
"That was great," Fallon said still laughing. "I mean, the look on your face, Sam."
"Let's just wait for Dean," Sam grumbled.
"We're not going to have to wait long," Fallon said. "He's coming this way." They both turned to see Dean rushing towards them.
"So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him," Sam said.
"Yeah, so I gathered," Dean panted. "It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere."
"Well did you get the…"
"Brass blades?" Dean snapped. "No, it's just been one of those days."
"I've got an idea, c'mon," Sam said heading the quickly to the funhouse.
"Oh, not this place again," Fallon grumbled as they entered. They only were a few steps in when a wall sprung up between them, cutting Fallon and Dean off from Sam.
"Sam!" they heard Dean calling for them.
"Dean, find the maze, okay?" Sam yelled through the door.
Fallon grabbed Dean's hand and pulled him off down the hall. "I think I know the way," she said.
"You think?" Dean replied.
"I've only been in here once before but…hey!" Fallon shrieked as the floor rotated her one way and Dean another. Before they could get back to each other another wall came up between them. "Cazzo!"
"Fallon!" Dean called.
"Keep going! Find Sam! I'll meet you there!" Fallon called back before turning and running through the funhouse. She ran down two more hallways before she realized she could phase through walls. She kicked a wall before phasing through it and rushing to where she knew the pipe organ was. When she got there, she saw both boys pinned to the organ where they had been trying to rip the pipe off. Through the steam from the pipes she saw the vague outline of the Rakshasa, who had yet to notice her. Acting quickly, she reached out her hand and curled her fingers towards her causing the bent pipe to break off the organ and fly into her hand. The monster turned towards her, but it was too late. Without any hesitation, she plunged the brass pipe into the monster. Blood began to appear from the wound and the next second the pipe fell to the floor covered in blood.
Fallon looked up at the boys who were staring at her in shock. "Well, I had to!" she cried. "You two were stuck."
Dean just shook his head. "I hate funhouses," he declared as he walked past her. Fallon's shoulders sagged in defeat, but Sam squeezed her shoulder.
"Nice job, Fallon," he praised.
"Yeah, but now I'm going to hear about the angry spirit crap again," she sighed.
Sam laughed. "Maybe not," he replied. "Come on, let's get out of here." The two made their way back out of the entrance of the funhouse and started wandering around the carnival grounds looking for Dean.
"Where did he go?" Fallon complained.
"Bathroom, maybe?" Sam replied. "I don't know, he…wait, I see him coming." Fallon looked to wear Sam was pointing to see Dean walking towards them. He was carrying something white and fluffy in his hands. As he got closer a huge smile grew on her face.
"Here," Dean said, pressing the baby seal into her hands. "Congrats on killing your first monster."
"I love it! It's so cute! Thanks!" Fallon squealed throwing her arms around Dean's neck.
"Yeah, yeah," Dean muttered patting her back lightly. "Come on. We've got to find a car to rig and get back to the roadhouse. Ash should have been able to figure out those patterns by now." Fallon let go of him and hugged the stuffed animal to her chest as they left the carnival behind.
They made sure to go into the bar before it was open so they didn't have to worry about how other hunters would react to Fallon. Ellen looked happy to see them when they walked in. "You three did a hell of a job," she said as she served the boys beer.
"Thanks," Sam replied. Jo suddenly plopped down next to Dean and gave Sam and Fallon a look. Fallon stiffened and was about to say something when Sam dragged her off the stool. "We've gotta go do something over there. Right now."
"That was the only excuse you could think of?" Fallon remarked amusedly as they sat down at table.
"I thought it would be best to get you away from there before you could open your mouth," Sam replied. "You don't seem to react well to other girls."
"No female likes other females, Sam," Fallon stated.
"Yeah, well, you seem to take that to the extreme," Sam chuckled. Before she could retort back Ash came strolling out of the back room.
"Where you guys been?" he asked slurring his words. "Been waitin' for ya."
"We were working a job, Ash. Clowns?" Sam replied trying to prompt him to remember the job assignment.
"Clowns? What the…"
"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked trying to keep the man on track. Ash set his laptop down at the bar top and motioned for them to join him.
"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.
"It's nowhere around," Ash told them. "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like a divine on dog dookie."
"Care to explain that?" Fallon inquired.
"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off," Ash explained. "Like a fire alarm."
"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asked.
"M.I.T.," Ash answered. "Before I got bounced for…fighting."
"M.I.T?" Fallon exclaimed her eyes nearly bugging out of her head.
"It's a school in Boston," Ash told her as if she was the dumbest person in the world.
"I know what it is," Fallon grumbled.
"Okay," Dean said intervening. "Give us a call as soon as you know something."
"Si, si, compadre," Ash agreed. Sam, Dean, and Fallon started towards the door.
"If you need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back," Ellen offered. "Fallon will be okay as long as she stays out of the bar area during open hours."
"Thanks, but no," Dean replied. "There's something I gotta finish."
Fallon had hoped after the mission that things would go back to normal. Instead, they were the same as they'd been the last two weeks. Dean woke up the day after returning to Bobby's before heading straight out to the Impala. Fallon and Bobby shared a concerned look before she got up and followed him out. She took her spot on the front hood of the car adjacent to the Impala and watched Dean work. She was chattering on about her high school memories when Sam appeared out in the junkyard. He approached them.
"You were right," he told Dean.
Dean looked up from his work. "About what?" he asked.
"About me and Dad," Sam replied. Fallon frowned confused, but realized quickly that the two must have argued after she stormed off that day on the last job. Apparently, the argument was not put to rest as Sam was continuing with his apology. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late."
"Sam," Fallon tried to intervene when she realized he was two seconds away from crying but he waved her off.
"I miss him," he admitted. "And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know." He paused. "I'll let you get back to your work." A moment passed and Fallon had just gotten up to follow Sam when Dean slammed his crowbar through a window of a nearby car. She jumped and watched in shock as he began to slam it into the trunk of his own car.
"Dean!" she cried rushing towards him. "Dean! Stop, stop!" She placed her hand on his wrist as he raised the crowbar again. "Dean, stop, please." He let her take the crowbar out of his hands. She tossed it aside before wrapping her arms around him. Dean buried his face in her neck and stared to cry.
She brought her one hand up and began to card her fingers through his hair. "It's alright," she soothed. "It's alright. I've got you, Dean." She held onto him a little tighter. "I've got you."