Season 2 Chapter 2
Everybody Loves a Clown
Word Count: 9,625
Content Warning: language and violence
DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.
In the middle of the night, somewhere in the woods of Missouri, smoke seeped through the trees into the starry sky. Still healing wounds remained on the hunter's faces. They stood around a large fire as they gave John Winchester his hunter's funeral. He was wrapped in cloth from head to toe as his body laid on the pyre of wood that they had freshly chopped down. The fire warmed their faces and the tears that fell from their eyes. It was completely silent besides the sounds of the forest and the crackling of the fire.
Dean's face was vacant as he stared into the flames. His eyes still welled until he could almost no longer see. As he blinked, a slow stream flowed down his cheek. Without John there to guide him, the oldest Winchester wondered if he could ever finish what his father started. Or if he would ever be able to really let him go. John was more than a father to Dean. He was a mentor, a leader…a partner.
The doctors didn't know what happened to John Winchester. The injuries he had sustained in the car crash were nowhere near capable of taking his life. He had been cleared only hours before his death. It was as though he just stopped breathing. John slipped away quietly and alone, just like his old partner did. The similarities did not go unnoticed by Riley. His and Jackson's deaths were too alike to be a coincidence. There had to be a connection.
Sniffling, Sam thought of the last conversation he had with his father. It was one of irritation and disrespect. They had fought, just as they always did. He wondered if John really knew how much Sam loved him. If he knew that all he ever wanted was to be enough for his dad by just being himself. All those years of bickering and unmade memories would haunt him forever.
As Riley's hands sat in her pockets, she wished for a way to bring John back. She knew that the boys would never be the same. But even more so, she knew the unbearable agony that came with losing a father. The last time she stood before one of those fires, was to say goodbye to Jackson. Memories of his funeral flashed before her eyes and the pain was still fresh. Riley missed him every day.
It was hard for Riley to give Sam and Dean their space. All she wanted was to hold them and tell them it would be okay. But she remembered how she was after losing her dad and knew it wasn't her place to push it. They would come to her when they would be ready. Riley sought after the switch in her mind to turn off her empathic abilities to the boys. Hearing their suffering would only make it more difficult not to rush to their sides. But she blamed herself. She knew something was wrong with John before he died and yet she said nothing. Riley had decided to wait for a better time to discuss things, but that time never came. The guilt of it weighed heavy on her.
With a sniffle, Sam spoke to his brother, "did uh—did he say anything to you? Before?" His still bruised and scratched face was wet from crying.
Dean's voice was flat as he mentally checked out. He held tightly to John's secret. "No… nothing."
Sam, Riley, Dean fell back into the quiet as they cried to themselves. John was gone. The Colt was gone. It seemed like all hope had left with the brave hunter.
—
Bobby sat in his study as he worked through anything he could find on the demon. He thoroughly went over all of John's research over his last year and looked for a way to continue it.
Riley and the boys had been at the scrapyard for a week. Things were tense and somewhat awkward. Sam's emotions had been up and down, and Dean had put up a wall. He wasn't handling losing his father well and refusing to feel his pain was the only thing keeping him afloat.
Dean had even created some distance between him and Riley. She wasn't sure if it was just his grief, or if he was protecting her from picking up on too much. Either way, she missed him. More than that, she ached for him. They slept in the same bed but may as well had been worlds apart. Riley had decided to give him his space, but it was harder than she thought it would be. It would have been easier if Finn was with her, but he was safer where he was back in Lawrence.
Grabbing her freshly poured coffee, she went onto the large white porch. The screen door creaked and slammed behind her. She leaned onto the railing and looked out into the sea of cars. The hunters had sat still so much that week that her mind was overwhelming her. Even the nightmares had returned.
As she took a sip from her cup, she heard shouting in the distance. It was Sam. She put her coffee down and hurried down the steps towards the voice. Riley found herself by the garage as she saw the brothers stand by the wrecked Impala. Dean had been working on Baby tirelessly as a way to distract himself. He had rebuilt her from the ground up. Sam looked at him and held nothing back as he yelled.
"Don't patronize me, Dean," Sam scolded. "Dad's dead, the Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this."
"What do you want me to say, Sam?"
"Say something, alright?! Say anythingfor Christ's sake!"The young Winchester was tired of not dealing with their problems and he had to let Dean know. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here buried beneath this damn car!"
Dean looked apathetic as he interrupted but his words still dripped with disdain. "Revenge, huh? Sounds good. So, you got any leads on where the demon might be? Any of you making heads or tails of dad's research? 'Cause I sure ain't. And when we find the son of a bitch—oh, wait. Like you said, the Colt's gone. But I'm sure you figured out another way to kill it, right?" His voice changed and he grew stern. "We got nothing, Sam. Nothing. The only thing I can do is I can work on the car."
Riley took the awkward silence as a chance to join them. Her arms were folded and her eyes cast down as she made her way towards the brothers. "She's looking good. You know, I'd be happy to help if you'd like."
"Thanks, sweetheart, but I think I'm good for now."
She nodded as she feigned a closed mouth smile.
"Well," Sam said trying to break the tension, "now that we're all together, I found us something." He pulled out a cell phone from his pocket. The young Winchester searched it for what he was looking. "It's one of dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." Sam put the phone on speaker as the others gathered around it.
The tone sounded. As a voice came through the phone, it was that of a woman. She sounded caring but still firm. "John, it's Ellen…again. Look, don't be stubborn you know I can help you. Call me."
"That message is four months old," Sam added.
Dean looked surprised. "Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Hunters almost always immediately deleted any trail on their phones. It was safer that way.
"Well, who's Ellen? John ever mention her?" Riley asked.
Sam shook his head. "No. No mention of her in his journal either. But I ran a trace on the phone number, and I got an address."
Riley and the youngest Winchester waited for Dean's response. They knew there would be no going unless he was on board. "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars," he answered as his eyes squinted to hide from the sun.
—
The loaned blue with brown paneled minivan screeched and smoked from behind it. Dirt from the lot Dean drove over kicked up around them. An old windmill sat in the middle of the quiet property next to a phone booth. There was a large sign reading "Harvelle's Roadhouse" that sat at the top of a small wooden building. It looked old and almost abandoned. As the van parked, it rattled under the hunters.
Dean smacked the steering wheel in frustration. "This is humiliating. I feel like a fucking soccer mom," he added in annoyance as they all got out.
"Hottest soccer mom I ever met," Riley smiled. She got a small smirk from Dean in response. It wasn't much, but it was something.
As Sam walked towards the entrance, he replied, "it's the only car Bobby had running."
"Hello?" Riley yelled as she and the brothers searched for any sign of someone else. "Anybody here?"
Shrugging, Dean opened the screen door and went to pick the lock. With ease, they were quickly able to get inside.
It was a bar. Everything seemed to be made of wood, even the floor. Planks of wood made up the walls and random odds and ends hung on them. The air was slightly stale but smelt of the familiar smell of whiskey and spilled beer. It was mostly dark, except for the light that broke through the curtained-up windows. Empty glasses, bottles and shot glasses scattered on the untended bar.
Towards the back, sat a pool table. A man was laying on top of it, sound asleep.
"Hey, buddy?" Dean called.
Riley gave a look of sarcasm. "Huh. Guessing that's not Ellen."
Splitting up, the team looked for clues or anyone else around. Sam and Riley went into the back towards the kitchen as Dean checked the bar. As he walked around alone, he suddenly felt something hard pushed against his back.
He was caught off guard and closed his eyes in a fake prayer. "Oh, God, please let that be a rifle."
The rifle to his back cocked. "No, I'm just real happy to see you,"a woman snarked. "Don't move."
"Not moving—copy that." Dean put his hands up in surrender. "But you should know, when you put a rifle on someone, you don't' want to put it right against their back. 'Cause it makes it real easy to do…" he turned around swiftly and grabbed the weapon from her hand. Dean discharged a shell from it. "…that."
Before he could say anything else, the woman's fist connected with his face. Dean yelled for Sam and Riley as he stumbled. She took the gun back and pointed it in his direction. "I need some help in here, guys."
"Sorry, Dean," Sam came out from the back with his hands on his head and Riley did the same at his side. An older woman held a pistol in their direction as she guided them out. "We got a little tied up."
Finally getting a moment to look, the three stared at the women who had them at gunpoint. The youngest was a long-haired blonde and was actually quite beautiful. She was thinly built but obviously had a tough demeanor. The other woman that had brought in Sam and Riley, looked like an older version of the blonde but with sandy hair. Her voice matched that of the one on John's voicemail.
"Sam and Dean?" the older woman asked? "…Winchester?"
"Yeah," Dean groaned as he held his aching nose from the punch.
"…son of a bitch," she whispered.
The younger one looked her way. "Mom, you know these people?"
"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." There was a moment of silence where Sam, Riley, and Dean waited to see what would happen. The woman laughed as she put down her gun. "Hey, I'm Ellen. That's my daughter, Jo. But I don't believe we've met…" Ellen said looking at Riley.
"Riley. Riley Munroe."
"Jackson's girl," Ellen scoffed. "It's a damn reunion in here. I haven't seen you since you were a toddler." There was a pause as she tried to find the right words. "We were all so sad to hear about Jack's passing. I'm sorry, Riley."
With a small smirk, Riley acknowledged Ellen's sentiment. "Thanks."
Jo had gone behind the bar to fetch some ice for Dean's nose. When she handed it to him, he sat down on a stool and looked at her with trepidation. "You're not gonna hit me again, are ya?" She chuckled as she went back to cleaning the bar. Dean looked to Ellen, "you called our dad, said you could help—help with what?" He held the ice wrapped in a dish towel to his face.
"Well," Ellen trailed. "The demon of course." The three looked at each other, taken back. "I heard he was closing in on it."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Dean looked over at her. "Was there an article is 'Demon Hunter's Quarterly' that I missed? I mean, who the hell are you? How do you know about all of this?"
"I just run a saloon, but hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including both your fathers a long time ago. They were like family once."
"Oh, yeah? How come he's never mentioned you before?"
"…you'd have to ask him that."
The room went quiet. She didn't know about John's death yet and no one really wanted to be the bearer of that news. Skipping over the comment, Dean went on. "So, why exactly do we need your help?"
Ellen's tone changed and she was annoyed with Dean's attitude. "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 your way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if–" As if she had put two and two together, she stopped, and her face fell. "He didn't send you." Ellen waited for a response and a lump grew in her throat. "He's alright, isn't he?"
"No," Sam answered with a heavy heart. "No, he's not. It was the demon we think. It uh—just got him before he got it I guess."
"I'm so sorry."
Dean didn't want to keep talking about John and turned to her trying to end it with a quick thank you. "It's okay. We're alright."
"Really? I know how close you and your dad–"
He interrupted her and his voice was slightly stern. "Really, lady, I'm fine."
Feeling tensions rise, Riley spoke out from her spot off to the side as she leaned against the wall. "Look, Ellen…" Her voice was soft. "You said you could help us. Honestly? We need all the help we can get."
"Well, we can't," she replied. "But Ash can."
"…who's Ash?"
"Ash!" Ellen shouted.
A startled whine came from behind them as they all turned. The sleeping man on the pool table could barely get up and knocked the balls as he stumbled awake. "What?" he yelled completely disoriented. "Closing time?"
Pointing over to the hungover man, Sam asked, "that's Ash?"
"Mm-hmm." Jo nodded. "He's a genius."
As he stumbled to meet the others at the bar, Dean retrieved John's research and dropped it on the counter in front of him. He was irritated as he looked at Ash. The man had a mullet and the back of his hair went nearly halfway down his back. Cheap tattoos were on his upper arms that showed from the cut-off sleeves on his plaid shirt. Ash had an awkward demeanor and a face to match with a single earring in his left ear.
"You gotta be freaking kidding me," Dean snarked as he tried to contain his language. "This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."
Ash found the hunter amusing and chuckled. "I like you." His voice was kind of raspy with a mid-western accent.
Riley joined the rest of the gang at the bar. She knew she would need to be a buffer for Dean while he was dealing with everything. They weren't going to get anywhere with him biting everyone's head off. "This file is everything John got on the demon in the last year. Can you tell us what you think?"
Taking out a large stack of papers, Ash flipped through them. "C'mon," he started. "This shit ain't real. Ain't nobody can track a demon like this."
"John could," Riley reaffirmed. She looked up to see the Winchesters looking at her, pleased with her answer.
"These are nonparametric statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations…I mean damn. They're signs—omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon—you know? Like crop failures, electrical storms. You ever been struck by lightning? Well…it ain't fun."
"Can you track it or not?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, with this? I think so. But it's gonna take time. Uh—give me…" Ash seemed to do calculations in his head. "51 hours," he stated matter-of-factly. He collected the papers and got up to leave.
"Hey, man," Dean called. "By the way, I dig the haircut."
"All business up front," as he flipped his hair, "and party in the back."
Sam and Riley looked at each other and chuckled lightly under their breaths. He looked up to see a folder sitting near the bottles of liquor. "Hey, Ellen, what's that?"
"Uh–" she went to retrieve it and bring it to Sam. "I was gonna give this to a friend of mine but take a look if you want." The folder had a newspaper clipping paper clipped to the front. Handwritten on the cover was "Couple murdered. Child left alive. Medford, Wisconsin."
Riley had found a chair at a table to sit near Jo as she cleaned up tables. "I gotta ask, Jo, how did your mom get involved in all this stuff?"
"My dad, actually. He was a hunter." Jo paused. "He passed away."
She could feel the sadness coming from Jo. Like an old scar that never quite healed. "I'm sorry."
"I was just a kid. So, it's been a long time. I'm sorry to have heard about your dad."
Taking a deep breath, Riley asked the question she knew only Jo might know the answer to. "Does it ever get easier? Them being gone?"
Jo feigned an obviously fake closed mouth smile. "No. I wish I could say it does, but it doesn't."
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid you were gonna say." Riley looked over at Dean still sitting at the bar. He was alone and quiet as his hands sat clasped together with his eyes down.
"He okay?" Jo asked.
Almost reminiscent of Jo's earlier response, Riley looked back at her. "I wish I could say I knew, but I don't."
"He's actually kinda cute. I don't think they're together. He seems pretty distant."
Stumbling into Jo's thoughts, Riley snapped her head back in her direction as the blonde gave her a smile. She was right. It wasn't obvious that they were together. Things had been different since Dean lost John.
"Riley, come here," Sam called. "Come check this out." Getting up, she went back to the bar and Dean found a seat close to them. He went on, "a few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of—looks to me like there might be a hunt."
Knowing that they all needed something to take their mind off the past week, Riley looked towards Ellen behind the bar. "Well, then I guess we're gonna go check it out."
—
Shortly after they had left the Roadhouse, night had fallen over Wisconsin. The rain poured down on the minivan as they drove down the highway. It was a storm. Lightning flashed in the distance ahead of them as the sound of drops slapped against the metal and windows.
"You gotta be kidding me," Dean started. "A killer clown?"
"Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed but killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces actually." Sam held a flashlight over the file of paperwork as he went over it with his partners.
Riley found a way to wiggle up between the two front seats from the back. "The family was at some carnival that night, right? Maybe we're just talking psycho dressed as a clown?"
"Yeah, the Cooper Carnival. And I don't think so. The cops have no real leads and all the employees were tearing down shop—alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air."
Making a face of discomfort, Riley looked over his shoulder at the clippings. "Fun case, Sam."
"Well, I know what Sam's thinking," Dean said to Riley. "Why did it have to be clowns?" He looked over at his brother with a teasing look and smirked.
Riley chuckled. "What'd you mean?"
"Sammy's been scared of clowns since we were kids. The guy still busts out crying whenever he sees Ronald McDonald on the television," he laughed.
Annoyed, Sam scoffed at his older brother. "At least I'm not afraid of flying."
"Planes crash, dude!"
"And apparently, clowns kill," Sam rebutted knowing he'd won that argument.
Trying to stifle a laugh, Riley kept it to herself as best she could. "It's alright, Sammy. Clowns are unholy creatures. I'll agree with you on that one. No one is that damn happy all the time. It's not natural and flat out creepy."
"Thank you," he exaggerated as he looked at Dean. "At least someone gets it."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, so these types of murders—they ever happen before?"
"Uh–file says 1981 with 'The Bunker Brothers Circus'. Same M.O.–it happened three different times, three different locales."
"They definitely still could be connected. Maybe it's a spirit. And if so, maybe it's not bound to a specific place, but a thing. Cursed object? It attaches itself to something and the carnival just carries it around with them." The auburn-haired hunter was always quick on her feet when it came to putting things together. It was something dad taught her well.
Sam made a face of being pleasantly surprised and nodded. "Yeah, that makes sense."
"Awesome," Dean added in a fake tone. "A paranormal scavenger-hunt." Taking a beat Dean turned to his little brother. "Why did you take this case by the way? You were awfully quick to jump on this job." Sam looked back at him confused. "It's not like you, that's all I'm saying. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."
"I don't know. I guess—taking this job? It's what dad would have wanted us to do."
The sound of the pouring rain was all that was left as the three hunters went silent on their drive down the road.
—
The van garbled to a halt as they had finally reached the carnival grounds. Two clowns stood talking to two clean-cut men in suits.
"Check it out," Dean said. "Five-0." He unfastened his seatbelt as he opened the door. "I'm gonna go see what's what. I'll be back soon."
Sam and Riley got out of the car and slammed the doors shut. Almost in sync, the two found their jacket pockets and rested their hands. Putting a hand to block the sun from her eyes, Riley watched Dean walk away.
The young Winchester turned to look at her as they walked over to the side of one of the rides. "You okay?"
Almost snapping her out of a daydream she replied, "huh? Oh…yeah. I'm good."
Sam scoffed with a smile. "And why don't I believe you?" He paused. "It's because of what's going on with Dean, right?"
Riley sighed. "Yeah. I just—gotta be patient. That's all." They leaned against the metal railing. "He's dealing with a lot."
He nodded. "He loves you. You know that, right?"
"I know." Riley turned her head up to look at the hunter. "The whole thing just friggin' sucks. But I'll be here when he's ready."
Dean made his way back over to his family. "Alright, so two more murders last night. They were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them."
"Who fingered a clown…" Sam said, innocently not realizing the innuendo. Riley and Dean looked at him with discomfort and awkwardness. "What?"
"…gross, Sam," Riley joked. He rolled his eyes.
Dean tried not to chuckle. "Yes, a clown. Who apparently vanished into thin air."
"Dean," his brother started, "finding a cursed object? That's like finding a needle in a stack of needles. I mean it could be anything."
Stepping in front of the two, Riley added, "well, it's gotta give off some EMF reading, right? So, I guess we just scan everything."
"Oh good," Sam chuckled. "Because that's not inconspicuous at all."
The older Winchester turned to see a "Help Wanted. Inquire with Cooper" sign on a nearby tent. "Guess we'll just have to blend in." Giving each other a look of concern, Riley and Sam followed Dean inside.
An older man in a black suit wearing sunglasses stood on a wooden box. He flung large knives at a target. Never missing a bulls-eye.
"Excuse me." Dean made his way to the stranger. "We're looking for a Cooper. Have you seen him around?"
Taking off his sunglasses, the man revealed his fogged over and blind eyes. "What is that? Some kind of fucking joke?"
"Oh…oh, god. I'm so sorry."
"You think I wouldn't give my right kidney to be able to see Mr. Cooper, or a sunset, or anything else for that matter?"
Dean turned to the others. "You wanna help me out here?"
They tried to control their laughter as Sam pinched his lips together. "Not really."
"Hey, Barry," a voice said from behind them. "Is there a problem?"The man was about half the size of Dean. He was in a blue and white starred leotard and had a sequenced cape over his shoulder with a club in his hand. He was obviously angry.
"Yeah," Barry replied. "This guy hates blind people."
Chuckling nervously, Dean looked back at the knife thrower. "No, I don't. It's just a little misunderstanding, that's all."
The shorter carnie seethed. "Little? Oh, you son of a bitch." He went towards Dean aggressively as he raised his club.
In a panic, the hunter went on the defensive. "No, no, no! Could somebody please tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Riley and Sam couldn't take it anymore and laughed. Still scared things would escalate, Dean pleaded, "please?"
As Riley's laughter trailed off, she heard faint laughter as if it was in the distance. It was sinister and sounded almost like a clown. But it wasn't coming from the carnival around her. Riley's telepathy had kicked in. There was something nearby, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out where.
—
Mr. Cooper led them into a small trailer. "You guys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat." The three looked down at the available chairs. There was one basic wooden one, a tattered leather covered metal one, and a chair made to look like a clown. Riley and Dean scurried over to the normal looking seats. Sam was forced to take the chair that made him beyond uncomfortable. Covering her mouth, Riley hid a small snicker at her brother's hesitation and awkwardness to sit. "A couple of folks got themselves murdered in the area. Cops always seem to start here first." Adjusting himself in his seat Cooper looked at the hunters. "So, you three ever work the circuit before?"
"Uh, yes, sir," Sam replied. "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."
"Doing what?"
Not knowing the right answer to give, the young Winchester answered, "a little bit of everything, you know?
Mr. Cooper didn't buy the ruse for a second. "You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"
"Nope," Dean admitted without hesitation. "But we really need the work. Oh, and uh—Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady," he laughed.
"My daddy was in this business too. Used to run the "Freak Show" until it was outlawed in most places. 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, I guess," the old carnie shrugged. "You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts, always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three?" Mr. Cooper eyed the young hunters. "You should go to school. Get married, have 2.5 kids. Live regular," he said sternly.
"Sir," Sam leaned towards the desk, "we don't want regular, and we don't want to go to school. We want this."
—
Riley looked up at her brother as the three walked away from the trailer. The dirt beneath their boots crunched as they went on. "Sam, did you mean what you said back there? Do you not wanna go back to school anymore?"
"I don't know, I think I might be having second thoughts about it."
"Really?" Dean asked in surprise. "I thought you would drop all this and go back to Wussy State once we handled the demon."
"I just—I feel like dad would have wanted me to do this. To do the job."
"Since when have you given a fuck about what dad wanted?" Dean snapped.
"Since he died, okay?" Sam looked at his brother in almost a challenge. "You have a problem with that?"
Dean scoffed. "Nah. I don't have a problem at all." He walked ahead of the others.
Riley took Sam's arm in comfort as he leaned into her and they slowly followed behind.
—
Carnival music played as people crowded through. Holding stuffed animal prizes and an assortment of junk food, the park visitors enjoyed themselves. Screams of fun came from the rides around them.
Sam and Dean had been put on garbage duty. The red windbreakers they wore as a uniform read, "Cooper Carnival On-The-Go". The two walked aimlessly through the park on opposite sides.
After going through a Fun House that made Sam way too nervous for a hunter, to check for EMF, he called Dean. "Hey, man," he said nervously and almost out of breath.
"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown," Dean chuckled.
"Haha, very funny," his little brother replied in annoyance. "So, I was thinking, what if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object? What if it's attached to its own remains?"
Dean brow went up in curiosity. "What made you think of that?"
"There was a skeleton in the fun house."
"Wait, like a real skeleton?"
"No…still got me though," Sam said almost ashamed he had been so jumpy.
"Alright, I'm headed to you." Dean hung up and headed through the crowds.
Barry, the knife thrower who already had a grudge with the oldest hunter, grabbed him by the arm. "What are you doing here, kid?"
"Uh–just cleaning up."
"Bullshit. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems."
"Do we have a problem?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
Dean checked around to make sure he was out of earshot before whispering to the old man. "…you believe in ghosts?"
Taken back, the carnie asked in surprise, "what?"
"Me and the others I came with? Uh, we're writing a book about them."
After a few minutes of lying through the conversation, Dean finally made it to Sam. "Dude, what the hell took you so long?"
"Long story. Where's Riley?" Sam pointed behind them to a booth. She was smiling and helping kids throw ping pong balls into fish bowls. Riley threw her hands up and cheered as a little boy won. "Makes sense. Cooper knew what he was doing. She's too cute to be picking up garbage." Dean's voice lacked the excitement and luster it once had when he talked about her.
With an annoyed scoff, Sam looked at his brother. "What the fuck is going on with you, Dean?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You have this incredible girl that's head over heels for you, for reasons I'll never understand. And you've been pushing her away. You used to be all over each other and this last week? It's like you're afraid to look at her."
"Look, Sam. My relationship is my relationship. Let me worry about what happens between me and Rye."
Sam sighed. "Well, you better figure it out, and soon. Or you're gonna push her so far away you won't be able to get her back."
Dean didn't know what to say. Turning back towards Riley, he noticed she caught his glance. She forced another smile in his direction. He knew his brother wasn't wrong, but his head was all over the place. Dean would talk to her when he was ready.
"Mommy, a clown!" a little girl yelled. The brothers turned in her direction.
The mother looked around. "What clown, honey? There's no one there."
"He disappeared."
Unsure of what to make of what her daughter saw the woman went to turn her the other way. "Come on, sweetie."
—
After their shift, it was already dark. The hunters followed the family home in their rickety van. Their house was small but quaint and well kept. The green lawn looked freshly cut and flowers lined the front of the home. Sam, Dean, and Riley parked across the street and watched the mother and daughter head inside.
"Dean," Sam said with a sigh from the back seat. "I cannot believe you told that guy about the homicidal phantom clown."
"Uh-uh. I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real." Dean pulled out his shotgun to load it with rock salt rounds. "Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their evil-clown apocalypse. And…" he drug out. "Before Cooper worked for Cooper Carnivals, he worked for the Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."
Riley shifted in her seat to look over at her boyfriend. "So, maybe Cooper brought whatever the clown was attached to with him."
"Yup." Dean looked over at the family in the large front window. "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."
—
Riley, Sam, and Dean had been on their stake-out for a few hours and the lights in the house were all off. The couple both had fallen asleep in the front seats against their windows. Sam sat alert waiting for any sign of movement.
Suddenly, there was a light on in the main room of the home. The young daughter walked through in her pink pajamas. "Rye, Dean…" Sam patted them both to wake them as they turned to look.
Without hesitation, they all grabbed their weapons and ran for the front door. When she was the first to reach it, Riley pulled out her kit to pick the lock. Within a minute, they were in. In tactical team fashion, the hunters split up and waited in the shadows. The little girl came walking down the hall as she held the hand of the clown as his bells jingled.
Its face was painted white with a red smile through his mouth stayed in a frown. Under a faded stocking cap, it had bright red curly hair. The onesie it wore was old and worn with polka dots and a large white long collar that wrapped around its neck.
"Want to see mommy and daddy?" she asked. "They're upstairs."
Once the clown was in a perfect position, Riley grabbed the girl and pulled to the side as Dean shouted, "hey!" She screamed in fear of the strangers and as the oldest Winchester fired a shotgun shell into the clown's chest.
The creature hit the floor and laid still for only a moment before beginning to get back up. Dean reloaded as he saw the clown rush in his brother's direction. "Sam, watch out!" He dodged its charge in time for it to rush past him. The creature flew through the glass door as it shattered. It let out an inhuman scream and had disappeared.
Both parents ran downstairs to the noise as the father yelled, "what's going on?" Seeing the hunters, his voice was filled with panic. "What the hell?! Who are you?! What did you do to my daughter?"
"Mommy, daddy, they shot my clown," the girl cried.
Quickly, the trio sprinted back to the van as they escaped the angry father.
—
Unloading the minivan, the three had parked it in a secluded and covered area off some quiet road. Dean gathered the gear and Riley took off the license plates. Sam checked the car for anything they'd forgotten.
Riley grabbed her tools and put them back in her bag. "Better safe than sorry. Not sure if they caught our plates or not."
"Good riddance," Dean huffed. "I hate this fucking thing." The family closed it up and slung their bags over their shoulders before trudging down the old road. "Well, one thing's for sure. We're not dealing with a spirit. That rock salt hit something solid." He turned to his brother. "You find anything in dad's journal?"
"Nothing useful," Sam replied.
There was a moment of silence. The only sound around them was that of the insects in the abandoned fields around them. Riley held on to her backpack with her eyes down. Things were too tense, and she needed to focus to keep her mind from wandering into the boys' emotions. Not to mention the thoughts running through her own head at a mile a minute. Watching Dean in the hospital nearly killed her. She only had him back for a brief moment before everything came crashing down. He was right beside her and yet she still missed him. Missed how they were, who he was.
Sam pulled out his cell phone and flipped it open.
"Who're you calling?" she asked.
"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something that can help us. Hey," he paused. "You think dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
"Oh, god," Riley scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "Sam, I was trying not to think about my own father possibly with her."
He laughed. "I don't know. I mean why did they never mention her to us?"
Dean was still disconnected, and his tone showed it. "I don't know, maybe she and dad had a falling-out."
"You ever notice John had a falling out with a lot of people?" Riley smirked. Both of the brothers nodded in agreeance.
"Well, don't get all maudlin on us, man," Sam looked at his big brother.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean this 'strong silent' thing of yours, it's bullshit."
"Oh, god," Dean exhaled. "Here we go."
"I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."
"You know what, back the hell off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to."
"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, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."
Riley felt the emotions change from frustration to anger in the blink of an eye. Intervening would only make things worse. She stayed a step behind them as she breathed through it. Dean was about to lose it.
"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay?!" he yelled. "I swear, the next fucking person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"
They stopped walking as Sam looked at Dean. "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 that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him for Christ's sake. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late."
Taking out her bottled water, Riley took a sip and closed her eyes. "Focus. You can only control it if you focus."
Sam's face looked nearly brokenhearted. "Why are you saying this to me?"
"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death!" Dean's eyes widened as he shouted."Are you?
Riley ran a hand through her hair. All she could do what watch the two most important people in her life struggle to grieve for their father. She could feel everything they were if she just let go, but it was too much. The worst part about her empathic abilities was not being able to fix the pain she knew others were in.
There was a hard lump in Sam's throat as he grappled with the guilt he felt for how things ended with John. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself. Dean's words had cut him like a knife. "I'm gonna go call Ellen," Sam uttered.
Stepping up closer to Dean, Riley just looked at him. She was almost angry for how he spoke to Sam, but it just wasn't her place. Her eyes looked hurt and lonely as she turned to head down the road, leaving Dean by himself. He took a breath realizing he may have over-done it with his little brother. But he was too proud to admit that he didn't know how to deal with the loss. Dean couldn't confide in them the secrets he carried that weighed heavy on his every step. Keeping those he loved at a distance was what was best for everyone, or so he thought.
—
Further on down the road, Sam wrapped up his phone call. "Alright, thanks, Ellen. Talk soon." He flipped the phone shut. "Rakshasa"
"…uh–bless you?" Riley said sarcastically.
He laughed under his breath. "Ellen's best guess. 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 cannot enter a home without first being invited."
Dean held onto the strap of his bag with his duffle in the other. "So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in."
"Wait, then why doesn't the thing just eat the kids? Not that I'm suggesting that it should." Riley's legs seemed to work overtime as she kept up with the two tall hunters.
"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones maybe? But I guess Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."
Making a face of utter disgust, Riley looked up at Sam. "Lovely."
"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess."
"Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81," The older Winchester added. "Hey, guys, who do we know that worked both shows?"
"Cooper."
Riley was uncertain. "Eh, I'm not so sure. I didn't get a vibe, ya know?"
"You could've missed it. It happens," Dean shrugged.
She had had enough for the time being and huffed as she walked ahead. Her little legs tried to put some distance between her and her boyfriend.
"What'd I say?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "She's trying to help, Dean."
"Yeah, I know. I'm just saying. We gotta be sure."
"Right. Whatever. Anyways, legend says the only way to kill it is with a dagger made of pure brass."
"I might just know where we can get one of those."
As they trudged on, Sam watched Riley ahead of them. The tension between him and his brother was enough. He hated seeing it build between them as well.
—
Dean thought Barry would be their best bet to find a brass knife and they knew they had to check Cooper's trailer. After forming a plan, the team split up. Riley believed in her gut that it wasn't Cooper and they would just be wasting their time. So, trusting her instincts, she decided her time was better spent talking to the blind carnie. Besides, she needed some breathing room. Riley was never one to bite her tongue, but she was trying so hard to with Dean.
She found the old man and he guided her to his dressing room as his walking stick swung ahead of him to guide him along. "You know, I have a lot of knives, but I'm not sure if I have a brass one, sweetheart."
"Well, I appreciate you checking for me, Barry."
"Of, course." He led her inside. The walls were cheap plank wood and the grey carpet was worn. Barry's suits took up part of the side of the room along with his vanity station. The carnie tapped on a wooden trunk by the door with his stick. "Check the trunk."
Riley crouched down to open the green trunk. It was definitely old and had brown leather straps to hold it shut. When she opened it, the laugh she had heard when they first came to the carnival echoed in her head. A chill ran up her spine as she saw the same tattered and dirty onesie with polka-dots that the creature wore. The curly red wig beside it.
She was right. It wasn't Cooper. It was Barry.
Riley's head snapped in his direction as she stood. "You?"
The man's stick dropped, and he removed his sunglasses. "Me." A Cheshire Cat-like grin grew on his face that would haunt any child's nightmares. His eyes changed to a strange and creepy glow as he waved at her in a sinister manner before disappearing.
Hurrying to the door, she found the knob had been locked. She shook it and tried to break the door down but with no luck. The laughter returned as she felt an eerie presence. Riley turned to look behind her just as a knife flew in her direction barely missing her face. "Oh, shit!" she exclaimed. Knives continued to fly through the air and into the door around her. Taking a step back, she kicked the door hard and busted it open. Being smaller than the boys made hunting so much more difficult, but Riley would be damned if that's what stopped her.
As she ran out and back towards the carnival grounds, she ran past the Winchesters. "Hey!" Sam called. Riley hit the breaks as she stumbled to stop herself so quickly. She turned back to face them.
"Oh, hey," she replied as she caught her breath.
"So, Cooper thinks Dean and I are peeping Toms, but it isn't him. You were right."
"Well, as much as I love hearing you say those words, Samuel," Riley started with an ornery tone. "I don't think we have time to dwell on it. It's Barry…the blind guy. He's still here somewhere." She looked at them between frantically searching around them. "And no, no brass blade. Just been one of those days."
"Are you alright?" Dean asked.
Not realizing she was connected to Dean her thoughts went through to him. "Oh, suddenly he cares."
His face scrunched in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean?" Riley's eyes grew a little as she realized he had heard her.
Luckily, Sam interrupted. "I got an idea, let's go." He led the way as the others followed and they ran in the direction of the Fun House.
The entrance was the mouth of a large clown that poured out blue fog as they scurried up the ramp. It was dark inside and the room was filled with neon-colored glowing doors. Some were mirrors and other were actual doors. It gave the illusion of infinite possibilities. Having been there earlier though, the young Winchester knew the way as he went through the right door. Before his partners could follow him, the door slammed shut.
Dean banged on the door, "Sam!"
Riley could hear that same familiar evil laughter. "Guys, it's here!"
"You guys gotta find the maze," Sam yelled from the other side. The two turned in the opposite direction to find another door. Heading down the only path available, Sam walked on. He saw the organ that he had come across on his first trip through the Fun House. That was what he came back for. Its pipes were brass. The other hunters had finally found their way to Sam as he was trying to pull off one of the pipes. He looked behind him as he pulled. "Where is it? Did you see it?"
"No. Nothing," Dean replied looking around. "I mean, shouldn't we see his clothes walking around or something?" At that same moment, a knife whisked in the direction of the hunter. The blade nearly missed his arm as it pinned his jacket to the wall. Another two flew immediately after, securing him in place.
"Dean!" Riley yelled as she went to him. Using all her might, the blades wouldn't budge. She grunted and fought against whatever was holding them there.
Finally, the young Winchester had broken off a pipe and armed himself. "Where is he?!"
"I don't know! I can hear him, but it's in my head, not around me!" The auburn-haired hunter looked around for another option. She spotted a lever that was connected to the pipes through the rooms. Pulling it, steam was released, and it clouded the space. Riley went back to trying to free Dean.
Looking up to his brother, Dean could see the figure of something moving through the steam. "Sam! Behind you! Behind you!" he shouted.
Heading Dean's warning, Sam spun around and thrust the brass weapon in front of him. With a thud, it went into something solid. A figure appeared through the smoke as soft glowing yellow eyes flickered. There was a screaming growl that erupted from the creature as it faded away.
As if the Rakshasa's death had released a magical bind, Riley could finally remove the blades from the wall and Dean was freed. She turned the lever she had pulled before to turn it back off.
When the couple ran to Sam, they all looked down to the ground. There, in a pile laid the clown's costume. The brass pipe had cut through them and there was nothing left of the creature.
Dean struggled to catch his breath. "I fucking hate Fun Houses."
—
The Roadhouse was much livelier than their first visit. Other hunters had blown into town and sat cleaning their weapons at the tables. The sound of the jukebox played in the background. Sam and Dean sat at the bar as Ellen brought them beers. Jo leaned on it beside them.
"You boys did a hell of a job your dad would be proud."
"Thanks," Sam replied. He was busy in his own world as he thought over everything. Hopefully, Ellen's words were true, and he did do right by his father.
Jo cleared her throat. "So…"
"So?" Dean took a sip from his bottle.
"Am I gonna see you again?"
"Well, I'm sure we'll be coming back at some point or another. Yeah."
She could see her point was being missed. "Maybe then we could, I don't know. Spend some time together? Get to know each other?" Jo's voice was soft and flirty.
Dean chuckled. "Uh–look, I don't know if you know this, but…Riley and I, we're kind of a thing."
Jo was taken back. "Really? Wow. I never would have guessed."
"What do you mean?"
"Well you don't seem very close is all. There just doesn't seem to be a spark."
Turning on his stool, Dean saw Riley leaned against the jukebox. She was looking for a good song while she drank her beer. He half smiled as he faced back to the bar. "There is. There really is." Dean's eyes found Jo. "I love her. It's just…complicated right now." He turned the bottle in his hands.
"It's okay, I get it," she sighed. "Well, I hope things get a little less complicated for you."
"Thanks, Jo." Dean's mind seemed to disappear into a rabbit hole as he nursed his drink.
Ash came through the back door with John's research folder and a laptop. "Where the hell have you guys been? I've been waiting for ya."
Riley smiled at the ridiculous man. "We were on a job, Ash. Evil clown."
"Clowns? What the fuck?" he asked in repulsion.
She laughed around the bottle of her beer as she drank. "You got something for us, Ash?"
Ash set up on one of the tables nearby and sat down and the others gathered around. His laptop looked rigged. Definitely had been tampered with to enhance it. "Well, the demon is nowhere around. At least nowhere I can find. But if the fugly bastard raises its head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie," he chuckled.
Sam looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off, like a fire alarm."
With a scoff, Sam asked, "Ash, where the hell did you learn to do all this?"
"M.I.T., before I got bounced for fighting."
Riley's eyes grew with a smirk as she looked at Sam before replying, "M.I.T.?"
"Yeah. It's a school in Boston."
Sam and Riley tried so hard to contain a peal of small laughter.
"Okay, give us a call as soon as you know something?" Dean added.
"Sí, sí, compadre."
He smiled as he downed the last of his beer. The three stood and nodded as a 'thank you' as they began to head out the door.
"Hey," Ellen called. "If you kids ever need a place to stay, I got a couple beds in the back."
"Thanks, but no." Dean smiled softly. "I got something I gotta finish."
Ellen smiled back as the hunters left.
—
It was warmer that day in Bobby's yard. Dean's sweat showed through his shirt as he worked on Baby again. The hubcap squeaked as he tightened it. Sam had found his way out to his brother.
"You were right."
Dean looked up at him as he stood to walk around the car. "About what?"
"About me and Dad. 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 that I hate him. So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late."Sam's lips trembled as his history with John overwhelmed him and his voice broke. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all." Tears formed in the hunter's eyes as he tried to fight them. "…but neither are you. That much I know." He paused looking at Dean. The older Winchester's jaw clenched, and he said nothing in return. "I'll let you get back to work." Sam turned around and headed back for the house.
Riley had been working on a car of her own nearby to pass the time. She knew there may come a time when she would need some space and she wanted to be prepared. It was also soothing for her. Jackson and Riley worked on cars together all the time. It helped when she missed him.
When she heard Sam talking, she headed over towards him. By the time she got there, he was already walking away. She stood by the garage and rubbed the oil off her hands onto a red cloth. Riley looked at Dean and could see the hurt he was feeling. If only he would let her in.
Taking a deep breath, Riley was building up the courage to go over to him. As she did, Dean picked up a crowbar and smashed the window of a nearby car in a rage. Riley stopped as Dean stared at the Impala. Squeezing around the bar, he slammed it down with all his might into the back of the car. Riley covered her mouth as she gasped in shock while Dean continued to wail on the trunk. It chipped, bent and broke under the assault.
The crowbar clanged on the ground as Dean dropped it. His breathing was ragged, and he shook in anger. He tried not to cry as his emotions consumed him. Turning around, he saw Riley by the garage and caught her gaze. She waited to see if he would ask for her to come to him as there was a pause. After a moment, Dean ran a dirty hand down his face and turned to walk away.
A soft cry escaped Riley's mouth. She had shut out Dean's pain intentionally so she could try to give him space. But there was never a moment she didn't know he was hurting. Watching him explode on the one thing he had left of John was enough to break her heart though.
Riley's back found the wall nearby as she slid down it. Her knees sat in front of her chest and she wrapped her arms around them to comfort herself. With a final wave of emotions, she hid her face and sobbed. She wept for it all; John, the Colt, their failure, Sam, and Dean. Riley missed her best friend and her greatest love. It was moments like that where she remembered why she never dated. Being too close to someone was nothing but heartache.
—