They spent a week at Bobby's. Dean did his best to repair the Impala and Jessa washed and polished her Hawk, over and over, before pulling it apart and putting it back together again, then polishing it again. By the time she had it back together for the final time, it was running better than it ever had.
"Isn't there always supposed to be a piece left over?" She turned to see Sam approaching with two beers in his hand, despite it being early morning. The Winchester siblings had been doing a lot of day drinking over the last seven days.
She gratefully took one, ignoring his comment. "Thanks."
He took a seat on the dirty workbench in the corner, watching her as she wiped down her beloved bike again. A buzzing sound cut through the small shed and Sam picked up her phone, reading the caller ID. "Derek Morgan." He said out loud, "Are you going to answer it?" She ignored him and eventually it went to message bank, displaying '35 missed calls' on the screen. The phone started ringing again, this time she picked up a nearby wrench and slammed the tool into the phone, cutting off the ringing and sending pieces flying. "You can't ignore your life forever, you know." Sam said when he had gotten over his shock at her outburst.
"I'm not."
"You are! Jessa, you're hiding out here instead of going back to your life!"
She whirled on him, her green eyes reflecting her anger, "And what about you, Sam? You had a life then your girl died then what? You walked away, so don't you dare judge me."
He seemed completely stunned for a moment before his expression softened and he mumbled an apology.
Not in the mood she set her beer down and climbed on the bike and sped off.
By the time she got back to Bobby's, hours later, both her brothers were sitting on the porch step waiting for her.
"What are you doing?" She asked, climbing down off her bike.
"Dad got a call." Sam answered, playing the message back.
John, its Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.
"That's Ellen." She told them in confusion, "When was that?"
"Four months ago." Dean answered.
"Four months? No, Ellen hasn't spoken to Dad in years."
"How do you know that?" Sam asked her.
"She told me. I lived with her for years after I ran away."
"When was the last time you spoke to her?" Dean asked.
"Not for a while." She thought back, "Months."
"You want to give her a call? See what you can find out?"
Jessa shook her head.
"Why not?"
She glanced at Sam, then back at Dean. "My phone broke."
"Broke?" Dean sensed something under her words.
"It had a run in with a wrench. Anyway, the roadhouse isn't far."
Dean turned to his brother, "Ask Bobby if we can borrow one of his cars."
When Sam returned with the keys to the only spare car Bobby had running, Jessa couldn't contain her laughter. She laughed until her chest hurt and had to take one of her pain killers. The big rust bucket was a far cry from the sleek and shiny black of the Impala.
"You're soccer moms now?" She wheezed between fits of laughter, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Well, don't you laugh." Dean scolded, "You're coming too."
"I'm not going near that babe magnet." She giggled, "I have my Hawk."
Dean's frown only got deeper as he climbed behind the wheel. Sam loaded all their weapons, and Jessa climbed on her Hawk, motioning for them to follow her.
It was only a two hour drive to the Roadhouse, and Jessa felt strangely nostalgic as they climbed the steps to the door.
"It's locked." She told them, trying the handle, "I'll check round the back. Wait here."
She walked around the side and tried the back door, relieved when it fell open.
"Ellen?" She called, walking through the halls, "Jo?" No answer. She went toward the rooms and checked them. Still nothing. She came to a door that was labelled 'Dr. Badass' and knocked but there was no answer.
"Must be sleeping on the bar again." She groaned. Suddenly, she heard Dean cry out.
"Sam, a little help in here."
Rolling her eyes, she rushed into the main bar area to find Ellen and Jo holding each of her brothers at gunpoint.
"Jessa, your brother's an idiot." Jo told her.
"I told you two to wait outside." She scolded, then scoffed at Dean's bloody nose. "Nice one, Jo."
Jo grinned at her teacher, "I learned from the best."
She and Ellen both lowered their guns.
"What are you doing here, sweetie?" Ellen asked, stepping forward to wrap Jessa in a hug.
"You called Dad, a few months back. Said you could help." Jessa told her. "Help with what?" She leaned up against the table and Dean took a seat, pressing a rag to his bleeding face.
"The Demon, of course. Heard he was closing in on it."
"Who are you?" Sam asked, "I mean, how do you know about all this?"
"Hey, I just run a saloon." She smiled, "But, when a hunter comes through we point them in the right direction."
"Let me tell you, that was a lot easier with Jessa and her fancy degree around."
Both Sam and Dean looked at Jessa.
"You went to college?" Her twin asked with a little disbelief. She just nodded.
"She got a PhD while she was here. Didn't take her long, either." Ellen told them with a hint of pride.
"I had a lot of spare time." She glanced at Ellen, "How come you never told me you knew about the demon?"
"You were getting your life together." She cast a side glance at Jo, "Hunting is no life. You were out and the last thing I wanted was for you to get sucked back in."
"That wasn't your call."
"I'm sorry, Jessa. I just wanted you to have a life, instead of winding up dead on some dusty back road."
"This is my family, Ellen. I needed to know." She hadn't raised her voice, but her tone was pure anger—enough to make anyone shake in their boots.
"Once upon a time, John was like family to us, too." Ellen said.
"Then how come he's never mentioned you?" Dean countered.
"That's something you'll have to ask him."
All three Winchester's looked away, none of them wanting to be the ones that said it.
"So, why exactly do we need your help?"
"Dean." Jessa cautioned.
"Hey, don't do me any favours." Ellen snarled, "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." Jessa whispered, cutting her off. "Dad didn't send us." She couldn't bring herself to look at Ellen, fearing that she would break down again.
"He's alright, isn't he?" Her tone was hopeful, like she knew the answer but was trying to convince herself otherwise.
"No." Sam saved her from having to answer. "No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um," He was struggling to keep his composure, "It just got him before he could get it."
"I'm so sorry." Ellen breathed.
"It's okay. We're alright." Dean answered in a very unconvincing manner.
"Really? Because I know how close you and your dad were."
"Really, lady. I'm fine." Sam looked at his big brother concerned, but didn't say anything.
"We could use your help, Ellen. If your offer still stands." Jessa finished.
"Always, sweetie." She turned around and yelled, "Ash!"
Jessa hadn't seen him there, but Ash, who had until then been asleep on one of the pool tables, woke with a start and rolled onto the floor.
"What?" He yelled, disoriented, "It closin' time?" He looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on Jessa, "Long time no see, Winchester." He grinned.
"How you been, Ash?"
He shrugged.
"That's Ash?" Sam asked in disbelief.
"He's a genius." Jo told them.
"I'm going to put on some coffee." Ellen said, disappearing into the kitchen.
Jessa and the boys moved to the bar and Ash took a seat opposite them.
Dean stared at him sceptically before finally saying what he thought. "This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."
Ellen chuckled, returning with the coffee, "That's almost exactly what your sister said when she first met him." She set a mug in front of each of them.
"Which was when?" Sam asked.
"Ash first came to the roadhouse about five years after me." Jessa explained. "I made the mistake of trying to outsmart him."
"You should have seen it." Jo smiled, "She challenged him to like a knowledge test or something."
"There was no way she could win." Ash boasted.
"Alright, prove it." Dean put a folder in front of him. "This is about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you can make of it."
Ash opened the folder and rifled through it for a moment before looking up at them, "Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this."
"Our dad could." Sam told him.
"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean... Damn!" He picked up one sheet of paper and looked at it, impressed. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightning? It ain't fun."
"Can you track it or not, Ash?" Jessa asked him.
"With this? Yeah. But it's going to take time."
"How long?" Dean asked.
Ash paused, adding things up in his head. "Fifty-one hours." He answered finally.
"Thank you." Jessa said and Ash packed up the folder and walked away.
"By the way," Dean called after him, "dig the haircut."
"All business up the front, party in the back." He grinned, then turned and walked away.
Jo chuckled, "You can't insult Ash. He won't take it."
"Hey, Ellen," Sam was staring at the far corner of the bar, "What's that?"
"The police scanner?" Jessa asked him, scoffing.
"We like to keep an eye on things." Ellen told him.
"No, next to it." He said, shooting Jessa a 'do you think I'm stupid' look.
Next to the scanner was a stack of papers and clippings inside of a manila folder. Ellen grabbed it, "I, uh, was gonna give this to a friend of mine. But take a look if you want." She set it down in front of him.
Sam started rifling through it, and Jessa peeked over his shoulder. 'Couple Murdered' was written across the front in red marker, below it 'child left alive'.
"A case?" Jessa asked.
"Apparently." Sam answered, leafing through the newspaper clippings. "Should we check it out?"
Jessa snatched a clipping from his hand and skimmed through it, "Medford's like a twelve hour drive!"
"We've got fifty-one hours to kill. There and back is barely half."
"We have to find the demon." She told him.
"Ash is on it. Jessa, we could sit on our hands and wait for fifty-one hours until he finds something, or we can do something and maybe save a few lives." His look was pleading.
"Fine." She conceded.
"Dean!" Sam called him over, "Check this out."
"Yeah?" He glanced at the file.
"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt."
"Yeah. So?"
"We're going to Wisconsin." Jessa said with a fake grin.
It started raining, so Jessa climbed in the back of the minivan and lounged across the back seat.
A few hours into the drive, Sam began reading Dean the articles, with the help of a flashlight.
"According to the daughter's statement, it was a clown." Sam said.
"You've got to be kidding me. A killer clown?"
"Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually."
"And this family was at some carnival that night?"
"Right, right. The, uh," It took Sam a moment to find the name, "Cooper Carnivals."
"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"
"Well, the cops have no viable leas and all the employees were tearing down shop." He explained, "Alibies all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."
Dean started chuckling, "I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"
"Oh, give me a break!"
That only made him laugh harder, "You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."
"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."
"Planes crash!" Dean snapped.
"And apparently, clowns kill!" Both brothers were silent for a moment before Sam glanced at Jessa in the backseat. "What do you think she's afraid of?"
"Nothing." Jessa answered, shocking them both. She had her feet up on the seat next to her and her head resting on the window with her eyes closed. She had intended to let the engine lull her to sleep, but the old minivan they were driving didn't hum like the Impala, it wheezed.
"I got it!" Dean exclaimed with a wicked grin, "Needles."
"Am not!"
"Yep. Needles. I remember." He was practically giddy as he recalled the memory. "We were fourteen and Dad gave you that knife of yours. You were so excited playing with it, and then you accidentally stabbed yourself."
"How do you accidentally stab yourself?" Sam cut in.
"Dean startled me."
"Anyway, Dad freaked out and took you to the hospital and you refused to let them give you a shot of local anaesthetic. You made them stitch you up with no form of painkillers."
Jessa smiled, "I was a kid, Dean." She didn't let him know that the thought of needles still freaked her out, he would never let her live it down. "Are you actually afraid of flying?"
"So these types of murders, they ever happen before?" Jessa and Sam both laughed when he changed the subject.
"1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales."
"It's weird, though, I mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house or a town."
"Cursed object." Jessa mumbled.
"What?"
"It fits. The spirits bound itself to something the carnival carries with it. Something the Bunker Brothers Circus had in the eighties."
"Great." Sam said sarcastically, "Paranormal scavenger hunt."
"Well, this case was your idea." Dean moaned. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."
"So?"
"It's just… not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."
"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."
"What Dad would have wanted?"
"Yeah. So?"
Jessa heard something in Dean's tone, so when he opened his mouth to reply she cut in, "Drop it, Dean."
He returned his eyes to the road.
It was late when they finally arrived and booked into a motel for the night.
"We gonna hit up the carnival in the morning?" Jessa asked, throwing herself down on one of the beds.
"Yeah. Figure it's the easiest place to start." Dean said, taking his gun apart on the table.
"Right." She took out her pill bottle and swallowed a couple of pain killers, "Don't bother waking me unless you have coffee."
