I can feel you falling away
No longer the lost
No longer the same
And I can see you starting to break
I'll keep you alive
If you show me the way
Forever - and ever
the scars will remain
I'm falling apart
Leave me here forever in the dark

EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

South Dakota – 1 week earlier

The funeral pyre was set up in the woods, far from where we'd attract any notice from people who didn't understand our ways. A hunter should be salted and burned, that's the way, ensuring no one could reanimate our body, or use it any other way to harm others. As such, the three of us had to watch our father burn.

Sam was crying, he seemed to be taking it the hardest given the argument he'd had with John before he died. He fought against his tears, but he failed to contain them. Dean was scarily silent, staring at the fire. Sam leaned against me and I put my arm around his waist, supporting him with a hug. He wrapped his arm around me and crushed me to him. He was devastated.

When he found his voice, Sam looked over at Dean, who was standing a few feet away, he still hadn't moved.

"Before he...before, did he say anything to you? About anything?" Sam asked Dean, wanting to believe there was something John had passed on to any of us, something to hold on to.

Dean stared straight ahead, unmoving. "No. Nothing." Dean lied, and I closed my eyes, squeezing Sam tight. Sam fidgeted a little more and then broke away, moving back to the car, not wanting to watch any longer. I looked over at Dean, he was still staring at the fire, but his face had shifted.

I walked over and looked at him, there was the trickle of a few tears running down from one eye. His eyes flicked to me, forlorn, and I swallowed, offering him a sad smile. I reached up and brushed at the tears with my thumb, hand cupping his cheek as I looked at him. He closed his eyes and leaned in to my touch, a shuddering sigh passing from his lips. I slipped my arm around his waist, twisting to look back at the fire, holding him as I had held Sam. Not demanding, not overbearing, just … there. It seemed to be enough.

South Dakota – Present Day

Dean was under the Impala, again, he'd spent the better part of the week there, beating, bending, twisting and when nothing else worked kicking the thing back together. It was looking considerably better than it had been, the outer was little more than a rusted frame, but it was whole, and no longer crushed like it had been after Bobby had towed it back to his junk yard.

I was lying on the hood of one of the other cars right next to the Impala, sun bathing in shorts and a tank top, sunglasses on and a book in hand – nothing serious, just a bit of comedic relief in the form of Stephanie Plum by Janet Evanovich, it made me laugh, Lord knows I needed that lately, I often caught Dean smiling at me as I laughed out loud at one of the antics in the book.

Bobby had been teaching me to cook – a skill I'd never really picked up with our nomadic lifestyle, I was quite enjoying it, but I found it was easier on Dean to be outdoors with him. He hadn't said anything, but I found if I was inside, that's where he ended up too. Since our near-death experiences, he'd barely let me out of his sight, which was odd coming from Dean, and it worried me. That he would rather hang out in a kitchen rather than work on a car was troubling.

So I'd taken to reading and listening to music outdoors, enjoying the warmer weather, and occasionally he let me work on the car with him – which meant I got to be his tool fetch, but I didn't mind. We'd been at it all week – a strange comfort in this routine overshadowed by the grief we were all feeling. I caught sight of Sam wandering toward us and smiled, he was looking a lot better, the swelling and bruises had faded to next to nothing.

"How's the car coming along?" Sam asked Dean, who was visible only by his boots legs sticking out.

"Slow." Dean said, working away at a bolt.

"Yeah? Need any help?" Sam asked.

Dean moved his head as a piece of the exhaust hit the ground beside him. I shook my head, the car was a mess, but far be it from me to say anything about it.

"What, you under a hood? I'll pass." Dean said to Sam moving further under the car.

Sam shook his head, slightly frustrated. "Need anything else, then?" He asked, throwing his hand in the air.

Dean rolled out from under the car and stood up with a frown.

"Stop it Sam," He said, moving over to the workbench.

"Stop what?" Sam asked.

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm ok. I'm ok. Really. I promise." Dean said, switching out a piece of his socket wrench for a different size.

"All right, Dean, it's just... we've been at Bobby's for over a week now, and you haven't brought up Dad once." Sam said.

"You know what? You're right." Dean said and Sam smiled, thinking he'd gotten through to him. I slid down from the car and walked over to lean casually against the Impala, arms crossed.

"Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance." Dean said rolling his eyes at his brother. I snickered, Sam kind of had that one coming, did he not know his brother at all?

"Don't patronise me Dean. 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." Sam said, I swallowed hard, looking down.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean asked, shrugging.

"Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! You don't talk to me, you don't talk to Beth!" I looked up sharply at that comment and Dean turned to give me an appraising look. I shrugged, it hadn't been me that told him that. "Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge?" Sam was on a roll, as usual. "But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car!"

"Revenge, huh?" Dean smirked, shaking his head.

"Yeah." Sam said, nodding.

"Sounds good. 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 is 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." Dean was on a roll of his own, finally letting go of some of the frustration and anger building inside. He knelt down and started pulling on another section of the frame, still working away.

"Well, we've got something all right?" Sam said, looking at Dean and then me. He pulled out a cellphone and I looked at it curious.

"It's what I came out 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." Sam switched the phone to speaker and held it out. Dean stood up reluctantly, and took the phone, leaning back against the side of the Impala next to me.

"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me." A woman's voice. I exchanged a look with Dean, she didn't sound familiar.

"That message is four months old." Sam said, looking at us both.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asked, scoffing.

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding.

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" I asked, trying to think whether I'd come across her.

"No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address." Sam said. This caught Dean's attention and he tilted his head, thinking, it was the most interested in something other than the Impala that I'd seen him in a week.

"Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars." He said to me, and I nodded heading inside. I knew he wouldn't be far behind. I was going to organise the car, have a shower, and get out of my sweat drenched clothes if we were going anywhere near society.

Harvelle's Roadhouse
Central Nebraska

Six hours later and we were pulling up in front of the Roadhouse in one of Bobby's beat up old minivans. It had barely made the trip, and would probably need some tinkering with from Dean just to get back to South Dakota, but we had made it. A high pitched squeal came from under the car as Dean threw it into park and killed the engine with a grimace.

"This is humiliating." He claimed, getting out of the car. He came to the side of the car and I tapped on the window. He rolled his eyes and opened the side door for me so I could get out, the inside handle didn't exactly work. "I feel like a friggin' soccer mom!" He complained.

"It's the only car Bobby had running," I said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before sliding out of the van, adjusting my jeans and jacket.

The Roadhouse looked abandoned, I slid my sunglasses to the top of my head and looked around. We were sitting in the middle of a gravelled patch of land, old petrol bowsers sat dusty and unattended. The Roadhouse itself was dried up old weatherboard, a tin roof over the front porch. The windows looked dark and dirty, there wasn't a soul around.

"Hello?" Sam called out, wandering down the side of the saloon. "Anyone here?!"

Dean was looking in the window and tried the door, it was locked.

"Hey," he said to me, "did you bring the.. uh?"

I reached into my pocket, pulling the picks out. "Of course." I quipped with a smile, tossing them to him, it earned me a smile in return and I was thankful for small miracles. Maybe getting away from Bobby's for a bit was just what the doctor ordered.

Dean picked the lock and opened the door, stepping inside, Sam and I followed, closing the door behind.

The inside was considerably more comfortable than the outer. Wood panelling on the walls, wood floors and bar. A jukebox in the corner with tables and chairs scattered around the room. I eyed off the pool table, wondering if we might get a chance to get in a game, but then, given Dean's mood lately, I didn't like my chances.

My chances especially weren't good, given that someone was currently using it as a bed. I walked up and assessed the man, who was obviously passed out and unaware of our presence. He was thin and lanky, dressed in the same sort of clothes we all wore – jeans, t-shirt, flannel shirt. A blond mullet topped off the look and I raised my eyebrow.

"Hey buddy?" I said, circling the table. No answer. I looked up at Dean with a shrug. "I'm guessing this isn't Ellen."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, shaking his head.

Sam moved into a back room, taking a look around. Dean wandered back into the section of the bar with all the tables. I heard an intake of breath and spun around from my observations of the man on the pool table to see a pretty little blonde holding a rifle, smack in the middle of Dean's back. I raised my eyebrow and Dean grimaced at me.

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle." Dean said and I would have laughed, but the situation didn't seem that comical.

The girl cocked the rifle.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move." She said, pressing the gun against his back again.

"Not moving, copy that." Dean said, raising his arms in the air.

"You know," I said, and she moved her eyes to look at me. "When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back... because it makes it real easy to..." Dean turned quickly, disarming the girl in one fluid motion, this time cocking the rifle at her.

"...do that." He finished with a grin. The girl didn't even hesitate, punching Dean in the face, taking the rifle back. I flinched, oooh that had to hurt. Dean doubled over, clutching his nose. I moved toward him but she was now backing up, putting enough distance between us that neither of us would get the drop on her, but both of us were within range for her to get a shot off.

"Sam! We could use a little help in here," Dean called out.

I reached Dean in a couple of strides, letting a look of displeasure settle in my eyes. "What are you nuts?" I asked the girl, "that was hardly necessary." She shrugged, raising an eyebrow at me.

Dean flinched as I touched his nose, checking him over. "I can't see, I can't even see," he muttered and I grimaced, she had packed one hell of a punch.

The back door opened to reveal Sam, both hands on his head moving very slowly into the room.

"Sorry Dean. I can't right now. I'm a little tied up." He nodded his head backwards toward another woman, standing with a handgun pointed at his head. I raised my eyebrow, were they serious? She waved Sam over near me before pausing to look at us all.

"Sam? Dean? … Winchester?" The older woman behind Sam asked.

"Yeah," the boys replied in unison, looking confused.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, her eyes on Dean.

"Mom, you know these guys?" The blonde asked.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." She turned to me, casting a gaze over my face. "Which would make you...Beth," I nodded, casting a questioning look at Dean who just shrugged at me.

She laughed, lowering the gun from Sam. "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo," she said by way of introduction.

Jo lowered her gun and Dean threw her a tentative smile, still grimacing from his nose.

"Hey," Jo said, nodding to us.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked, looking slightly worried. He narrowed his eyes at me and leaned in to me. "Don't let her hit me again, huh?" I chuckled, shaking my head at him.

"Don't piss her off then Dean," I grinned.

A few minutes later I was leaning against the bar behind Dean, who had taken a seat on a stool, Sam sat near him at a table. Ellen and Jo were facing us all from the other part of the bar.

"Here you go," Ellen said, handing Dean a towel with ice in it. He tentatively placed it against his nose, grimacing.

"Thanks." Dean said, nodding. "You called our Dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well... the demon of course," Ellen said, looking at us. "I heard he was closing in on it."

Dean looked at me and shook his head. "What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

"Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once." Ellen said.

"Yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?" I asked, looking over at the women.

Ellen pulled back, looking at me. "You'd have to ask him that." I swallowed, but Dean's look stayed my response.

"So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked instead.

"Hey, don't do me any favours. 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..." She stopped, eyes widening as she looked at Dean.

"He didn't send you." She said. Dean looked down, then glanced back at me.

"He's all right, isn't he?" Ellen asked.

"No." Sam answered quietly. "No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry." Ellen said to Dean.

He turned his head, putting on that false bravado. "It's ok. We're all right," he said with a half-smile.

"Really? I know how close you and your dad were," she said, not believing him for a moment.

"Really, lady, I'm fine." Dean said, and Ellen still looked disbelievingly at him. I stood up moving to place myself between Dean and Sam.

"Look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get." I said softly, looking at Ellen.

"Well, we can't." Ellen said, exchanging a look with her daughter. "But Ash will."

"Who's Ash?" Sam asked, looking up.

"Ash!" Ellen called out loudly, causing the man on the pool table to jump and flail into a half seated position.

"What?" Ash asked, his mullet flipped around as he shook his head and he turned to face us, hand in the air. "It closin' time?" He asked, turning bleary eyes to us. I smirked and crossed my arms.

"That's Ash?" Sam asked, looking a little shocked.

"Mmhmmm," Jo said, nodding. "He's a genius."

We'd moved to the bar, Dean slapped a brown document wallet down in front of us. I was sitting on a stool one over from Sam, Dean standing in the middle. Jo was on the other side of the bar pouring us all some water.

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean scoffed, his arms crossed over his chest.

Ash laughed, sitting back on his stool from around the corner of the bar. "I like you," he said, nodding appreciatively.

"Thanks," Dean said, his facial expression not changing.

"Just give him a chance," Jo said, pouring another glass and putting it in front of me, I smiled my thanks at her and took a drink.

Dean sat between Sam and I and opened the folder.

"All right. This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it." Dean challenged, sliding the folder over to Ash.

Ash pulled out the papers and started rifling through them, shaking his head.

"Come on. This crap ain't real." He said. "There ain't nobody can track a demon like this." Dean and Sam exchanged a disbelieving look, I set my gaze on Ash.

"Our dad could." I said, frowning at him.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean... damn! They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms..." He trailed off, looking at some of the documents of John's. "You even been struck by lightning?" He asked randomly, looking at me. "It ain't fun." He said, shaking his head.

"Can you track it or not?" I asked quietly.

"Yeah with this, I think so." He frowned at all the data. "Bit it's gonna take time, uh, give me..." he trailed off, looking as if he was doing a calculation in his head. "Fifty one hours." He came back with. I raised my eyebrow, that was very specific.

Ash got up to leave, gathering all the data together and walking toward the back room.

"Hey man?" Dean said to him, a smile on his face.

"Yeah?" Ash said, turning to look at him.

"By the way I, uh, I dig the haircut." Dean said, winking at Ash.

Ash looked pleased. "All business up front, party in the back," he said, running his hand through his hair and flipping the mullet around. He turned and went out the back of the room, and Jo walked past in a little apron, wearing something like I might wear on a night I was feeling frisky. She threw Dean a flirty look and I raised an eyebrow at him, he shook his head.

Sam was looking at something behind the bar and pointed. "Hey Ellen, what is that?" He asked.

Dean got up, moving slow, and headed over to one of the tables by the window, going all lone wolf on us again. I let him go, and slid on to his stool next to Sam, curious what had caught his attention.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we..." Ellen said, looking back at us.

"No, no, no, no, the, um, the folder." Sam said more specifically.

"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine." Ellen said, picking up the folder. "But take a look, if you want." She placed the folder in front of us and I leaned over Sam's shoulder to look.

There were a few newspaper clippings attached to the front of the folder, and a big red marker stated "Couple Murdered, Child Left Alive, Medford Wisconsin."

I grimaced. Wisconsin. "I swear to god nothing good ever happens in Wisconsin," I muttered and Sam threw me an amused look. They'd all heard this little complaint of mine before.

Jo was wiping down tables and sweeping, and she'd worked her way over to where Dean was, I turned to listen in to their conversation a little.

"How did your mom get into this stuff anyway?" Dean asked, looking over at the girl.

"From my dad. He was a hunter. He passed away." Jo said, looking at him.

"I'm sorry." Dean sympathised.

"It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad." Jo replied and Dean looked across at me.

"Yeah." He said softly, his eyes were guarded and didn't reveal much.

"So," Dean said, shifting in his seat, leaning forward. "I guess we've got fifty-one hours to waste. I was wondering... you guys have rooms here?" I raised an eyebrow and looked up from the paperwork Sam and I were looking through.

Jo smiled at Dean, and leaned against another table, giving him an appraising look. "What did you have in mind?" She asked, smiling at him.

"Uh... nothing, just looking for a place to bed down for the night." Dean said, looking a little uncomfortable.

Jo raised an eyebrow. "You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pick-up line." Dean chuckled, a little embarrassed and glanced over at me, I watched the exchange, curious – normally Dean would be all over this, but he was curiously reserved.

"Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some... pizza, a six pack and side one of Zeppelin IV." Jo said with a smirk, but she had a playful expression in her eyes, she was seeing if he'd bite.

"Wow... what a bunch of scumbags." Dean said, shaking his head with a smile.

"Not you?" Jo asked with a curious expression.

"I guess not," Dean said, looking up at her. She raised an eyebrow at that.

"Hey Dean," Sam said, looking back at the papers in front of him. "I think we need to check this out."

"What is it?" He asked, coming over to look at the documents over our shoulders.

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam said, glancing at Dean.

"Yeah. So?" Dean asked stubbornly.

"So I think we should check it out," he said, this time looking at me. Dean sighed, looking between the pair of us, he knew he wasn't getting out of it.

Minivan
On the road

It was dark, and pouring rain. Dean was driving, of course, and Sam sat in the front seat, reading all the articles and paperwork using a flash-light.

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean asked, staring out the windshield listening to Sam talk about the case.

"Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually." Sam said, still reading.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" I asked, sitting forward. There wasn't any seat belts in the back of the van anyway, why bother with sitting back.

"Right, yeah. The, uh, Cooper Carnivals," Sam said, glancing at some kind of report.

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?" I asked, frowning.

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around." Sam said, looking back at me. "Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course." I nodded, it did sound like possible case for us, we'd looked into less in the past.

Dean threw a grin at his brother, they had been rare this last week. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam." I looked at them curious and Dean smiled at me in the rear-view mirror.

"Why did it have to be clowns?" He chuckled and it got a laugh out of me.

"Oh, give me a break," Sam groaned.

"You didn't think I'd remember, did you?" Dean laughed. "I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. "Well at least I'm not afraid of flying," he quipped back.

"Planes crash!" Dean exclaimed.

"And apparently clowns kill." Sam countered, and I chuckled.

"Touché," I said with a grin and Dean shook his head, changing the subject.

"So these types of murders, they ever happen before?" He asked.

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales," Sam answered, looking back at the paperwork.

"That's weird though," I said, reading over his shoulder. "I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house or a town."

Sam looked thoughtful, glancing back at me. "So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?"

"Cursed object, maybe?" Dean offered. "Spirit attached itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them."

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt." Sam groaned, looking out the window.

"Well this case was your idea," I said sympathetically, patting him on the shoulder.

"By the way, why is that?" Dean asked, looking at Sam. "You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?" Sam asked, shrugging.

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

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do." Sam said, looking back at me before turning to look at Dean.

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean scoffed.

"Yeah. So?" Sam asked. I bit my lip, not wanting them to get into an argument, not now. I caught Dean's eye in the mirror and gave him a warning look. He sighed, and slightly inclined his head at me.

"Nothin'" Dean said, dropping the subject, earning a smile from me. He smiled back.

Coopers Carnival – Medford Wisconsin
Next Morning

We'd driven all night to get to Wisconsin. It meant we were all a bit stiff and sore when Dean pulled the van into the parking lot, it let out a grinding squeal and Dean grimaced, embarrassed to be seen in such a car.

I leaned forward and nodded at the scene in front of us.

"Check it out. Five-oh." Dean said thoughtfully. There were a couple of detectives talking to some of the carnies standing around.

We got out of the van and went to take a look around. Dean separated from us and went to talk to the police, Sam and I lingered by one of the carnival rides, taking everything in. A little three-foot tall woman in a clown outfit passed us, I felt Sam stiffen a little when he saw her. He was staring at her, fidgeting and nervous, she stopped to stare back for a few moments before moving on with a smirk. Dean was walking over to us. He raised his eyebrow at the clown.

"Did you get her number?" He asked Sam, who scowled back at him.

"More murders?" I asked, changing the subject and nodding to the police.

"Two more last night. Apparently they were ripped to shreds." Dean informed us. "And they had had a little boy with them..."

"...who fingered a clown." Sam said uncomfortably.

Dean paused and gave Sam a weird look over the clown fears.

"What?" Sam asked defensively.

"Yeah, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air." Dean said, looking back at the carnival.

"Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything." Sam complained.

"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything." Dean said, it was a simple enough plan.

"Oh, good, that's nice and … inconspicuous." Sam countered with a sigh.

I was looking over a sign on a post, it said "Help wanted... Enquire within: S. Cooper". I grinned and pushed myself off the side of the ride.

"Well then," I said to the boys, walking back toward the sign while looking at them. "I guess we'll just have to blend in." They looked at me confused, and then saw the sign. Dean grinned and Sam looked a little horrified.

I walked into the tent near where the sign was hanging.

There was a man inside, throwing knives at a target; they all landed pretty much on the bulls-eye. I cast an appreciative eye over this scene and thought about how long it had been since Dean and I had done any knife throwing practice. Too long.

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr Cooper," I said to the man.

"Have you seen him around?" Dean asked, stepping up next to me.

The man turned to look at us. "What is that, some kind of joke?" He asked, pulling his sunglasses off to reveal that he was blind. I grimaced.

"Oh. God, I'm, I'm sorry." Dean stuttered, and the man continued.

"You think I wouldn't give my eye-teeth to see Mr Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?" He ranted.

Dean looked flustered and glanced back at Sam and I. "Wanna give me a little help here?" He said quietly.

"Not really." Sam said deadpan, he was still pissed over the clown comments.

"Hey man, is there a problem?" This voice came from behind us and I spun to see a dwarf – little person if you were wanting to be politically correct – standing behind us in a costume with a red cape.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people." The other man said behind us.

"No, I don't, I..." Dean was struggling.

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?" The short guy said to Dean.

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding," Dean said fidgeting.

"Little?! You son of a bitch!" The man said to him, scowling.

"No, no no no!" Dean said throwing me an SOS look.

I stepped in with a chuckle, looking from the blind man to the dwarf. "Could somebody just tell us where Mr. Cooper is, please?" I asked, and they all stared at me.

We were shown to Mr Cooper's office by the scowling dwarf and I smiled my thanks at him, he seemed to soften a little at that and gave me a passing smile as he left. Dean raised his eyebrow at me and I shrugged. He wasn't the only one with flirtation skills.

Mr Cooper waved us into his office. "You kids picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat." He gestured to a couple of available chairs in front of his desk. I grinned – one was a normal chair, the other pink with a giant clown face on it. Dean hurried to sit in the normal looking chair, giving Sam a challenging look.

Sam scowled, hesitating before the clown chair, and then pulled me forward, making me sit on it. He stood behind us, arms crossed and unhappy.

"We've got all kinds of local trouble," Mr Cooper was saying to Dean.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first." He said dismissively before turning a curious eye to us. "So, you kids ever worked the circuit before?"

Sam nodded from behind us. "Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas."

"Yeah," Dean concurred, nodding.

"Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?" He asked throwing some options at us. He was looking even more curiously at me.

"Yeah, it's a... little bit of everything I guess." Sam said uncertainly.

Mr Cooper sat back in his seat and shook his head with a smirk. "You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

I leaned forward, my turn. "Uh, no. But we really need the work Mr Cooper." I smiled at him.

Dean grinned. "And Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady," he said chuckling, which earned him a frown from the man.

Mr Cooper looked at us seriously, pointing up at the wall. "You see that picture? That's my daddy."

"You look just like him," I said, nodding.

"He was in the business. Ran a freak show. Till they outlawed them, 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." He said with a smirk.

"You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you kids?" He leaned forward on the desk, looking at us real serious. "You should go to school. Find yourself a couple of girls," he looked at Dean and Sam, then at me. "Or a guy. Have two point five kids. Live regular."

Dean started to say something, but Sam leaned forward from behind us, putting his hand on the back of Dean's chair.

"Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this." He sounded so convincing, not like Sam at all. Dean and I exchanged a glance that told me he was thinking the same thing, and we turned to look at our younger brother who was looking dead serious at Mr. Cooper.

We were given jobs as trash collectors, I smiled, perfect – it would allow us to move around with relative ease. As we left Mr Cooper's trailer Dean looked lost in thought.

"Huh," he said eventually as we walked.

"What?" Sam asked, looking over at him.

"That whole, uh, I don't want to go back to school thing. Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?" Dean asked, still walking. Sam paused a moment, looking at the ground.

"Sam?" I asked, placing a hand on his arm.

"I don't know." Sam said, looking at us both. He started walking again.

"You don't know?" Dean asked, following him. "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 said stopping and turning to us.

"Really?" I asked, frowning at him.

"Yeah. I think. Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job." Sam said, nodding.

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean asked, looking dubious. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, ok?" Sam said, agitated. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Dean stopped and looked at me, I frowned. "No, no, I don't have a problem at all." He said dismissively, starting to walk away again. I stared at his back, and exchanged a worried glance with Sam. Yeah, right. I sighed, we had to get him talking or something, and soon. He was like a powder keg ready to explode, so wound up.

We'd been given red jackets that said "Cooper Carnival" on them. Dean loitered not too far from me, keeping me in eye sight as we moved around the grounds picking up trash. Sam was off on the other side of the carnival, doing the same thing, he had one of the EMF meters on him, Dean had the other. I made a mental note that this would be going a lot faster if we had one each, maybe we needed to look into that. It'd never been a problem before Sam joined us, but now we needed extras of everything.

Dean's phone rang and he answered it, I joined him just in time to hear him teasing Sam.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown." Sam responded and then Dean looked at me.

"Like a real human skeleton?" He asked Sam over the phone. I raised my eyebrow.

"Did the bones give off EMF?" Dean asked after Sam spoke for a bit.

"We should check it out anyway. We're heading to you." Dean reached out to take my arm, but instead found his own grabbed. We turned to see the blind man from earlier in the day having come up behind us.

"What are you doing here kid?" He asked Dean.

"Ah, I was just sweeping." Dean said, frowning.

"Bull," the man answered. "And what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?" I grimaced and rolled my eyes at Dean.

"Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control." Dean said, stunned.

"We're a tight-knit group, we don't like outsiders, we take care of our own problems," the man said warningly.

"We got a problem?" Dean asked, looking at him.

"You tell me, you're the one talking about human bones." He said, staring blindly at Dean.

I smirked, and then had an idea. "Do you believe in ghosts?" I asked the blind man, and he turned to look in my direction, clearly confused by the sudden change in subject.

"What?" He asked.

I leaned in toward him, and whispered like I had a secret. "My brothers and me, we're writing a book about them." I put my arm around him and led him off in another direction, talking to him about this urban legend that my we'd dug up and were investigating. I threw Dean a look, telling him to get out of here, that I would catch up soon. He hesitated, but then nodded and walked off, throwing a couple of glances over his shoulder at me.

Fifteen minutes later I'd escaped Papazian and had found Dean and Sam at the fun-house, they were waiting for me.

"What took you so long?" Dean asked anxiously, walking up to meet me.

"Don't ask," I said with a groan, it had been almost impossible to get away from the man.

"Mommy, look at the clown!" A little girl near us said excitedly.

We spun around and looked at the little girl, she was pointing toward the tent.

"What clown?" Her mother asked, appearing confused. The little girl was still pointing, gesturing like she was seeing something we weren't, because when we looked where she was pointing, there was nothing to see.

We all exchanged a knowing look while watching the girl and her mother walk away.

Little Girl's Home
Later that night

I'd made Sam sit in the back for a change, I wanted to be up front for the stake-out. Sam was now leaning forward, looking over Dean and my shoulders.

"Beth, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam said to me, shaking his head.

"I told him an urban legend about about a homicidal phantom clown," I clarified, looking at Dean who was rummaging about in a bag between us. "I never said it was real."

Dean pulled a gun out from the bag and cocked it. Sam reached over and pushed Dean's hands down.

"Keep that down!" He said anxiously, throwing me a stunned look. I shrugged and continued with my story.

"Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brothers Circus in '81, and their uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what?"

Dean looked questioningly at me. "What?"

"Before Mr Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager." I said raising an eyebrow, pleased with my investigative work.

"So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?" Sam asked.

"Something like that." I said, nodding.

Dean shook his head, a smile on his face. "I can't believe we keep talking about clowns," he said with a chuckle.

It had been hours since we started the stake-out. The family had gone to bed about an hour ago, the house was dark and quiet except for a couple of outdoor lights that had been left on. I was on watch duty while the boys got some sleep, slumped in their respective seats.

Dean's head was turned toward me and I gazed at it. He looked peaceful, about the only time he did these days was when he was sleeping. I reached out a hand to softly trace a finger along the gash on his forehead – it was still lightly scarred, but was healing, it had only been a week after all. At least it didn't look all red and sore any more. Dean stirred at my touch and mumbled a bit, shifting in his seat. I pulled back and turned my attention back to watching the house, it had been a long day. I checked my gun for about the twentieth time in the last two hours, it felt comforting in my hands.

Suddenly a light turned on in the house, catching my attention. The little girl was moving around the house. I grabbed Dean, shaking him, he startled awake looking to where I was pointing. I reached over and shook Sam, he looked up drowsily at me, but was instantly alert when he saw my concerned face.

Dean was already out of the car, crossing to the house, we followed behind him, guns at the ready. Letting ourselves in the back door using a credit card to open the door, we crept into the house and waited. The little girl was talking to someone in the living room, it sounded like they were playing a game.

After a little while the girl started to walk down the hallway toward the stairs that led to the bedrooms on the upper level. Dean and I had already moved down to the end of the hall to wait, I could see Sam in place on the other side of the alcove.

"Wanna see Mommy and Daddy?" The little girl asked, she was walking with a clown holding her hand. "They're upstairs."

As they passed us, I reached out and grabbed the girl, pulling her back into the living room away away from the clown. She screamed and fought me, but I held on tight.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, shooting the clown in the chest, it fell on its back on the floor, it didn't disappear like a spirit would. Dean frowned, cocking the gun again.

Suddenly the clown got back to it's feet. "Dean, watch out!" Sam called out, moving in with his own gun trained. The clown panicked and leaped back through the glass door behind it, turning invisible as it went. The parents of the little girl came running down the stairs.

"What's going on down there?" The dad yelled.

"Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!" The mother cried and I panicked, I let go of the girl, thrusting her toward the parents and all three of us backed toward the door quickly.

"He shot my clown!" I heard the little girl saying as we ran down the path toward the van.

We dumped the van as soon as we could, in a ditch on some back road. Dean was getting the license plates off the van while Sam and I collected up all our things, throwing them in the duffel bags.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked Dean, who was now zipping them up in one of the bags.

"I don't want to take the chance. Besides, I hate this freaking van anyway." Dean said with a gesture toward the now abandoned vehicle.

We started to walk down the road, Dean took the bag I was carrying and tossed it over his shoulder, holding his own by his side. It was the little things like always carrying my bag that told me how much he cared, he was always taking care of me in his own ways – most other women would say it was chauvinistic and archaic, I thought it was sweet. He threw me smile and I lamented that they'd been a little rare lately.

"Well, one's things for sure," Dean said, looking ahead of us. "We're not dealing with a spirit. That rock salt hit something solid."

"Hmmm, a person?" I asked. "Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?"

"One that dresses up as a clown for kicks?" Sam asked with a horrified look. "Did you see anything in Dad's journal?" I shook my head to indicate that I hadn't.

Sam pulled out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked, curious.

"Maybe Ellen, or that guy Ash will know something." He said flipping through his contacts list. "Hey you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

I raised my eyebrow at that and Dean smirked. "No way," he said.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out," he mused.

I contemplated that. "Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" I asked quietly. Dean didn't answer, just kept walking, looking ahead of him, something had changed in the set of his jaw though.

"Hey, don't get all maudlin on us," Sam said, looking at him.

Dean looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this 'strong silent' thing of yours Dean, it's crap." Sam said.

"Oh god!" Dean groaned, looking at me. I bit my lip, Sam really was like a dog with a bone. Did he really think I hadn't already had this conversation with Dean?

"I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. We both know how you felt about the man." Sam pushed.

Dean shook his head, frustrated. "You know what, just back 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, man!" Dean inclined his head, looking at me and then ahead of him again.

"Dean, we're just worried about you, that's all," I said quietly, looking over at him. "We just want to make sure you're ok." We kept walking, Dean between us, I had a moment to think it was a little like ganging up on him.

"Guys, I'm ok." Dean said throwing his hands in the air. "I'm ok, ok?" He said loudly. "I swear, the next one of you who asks me if I'm ok, I'm going to start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!" He stopped walking, turning to look at Sam in particular.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, confused.

"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. 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." I flinched, but it was kind of true, and Dean had been stewing on this for a while, it was as if Sam had just opened a flood gate with this line of questioning. It was the exact reason I hadn't been pushing.

Sam's eyes teared up and he looked at his brother. "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 shouted, and then he paused. "Are you?" He asked, looking at Sam.

Sam paused, starting at his brother, struggling with the attack from Dean. "I'm going to call Ellen." Sam said quietly and walked off leaving us standing there.

Dean turned to me, anger flashing in his eyes.

"And you, you have something you want to say?" He asked me. I looked at him, hurt, and shook my head.

"No, no I think you've made yourself perfectly clear Dean." I said, taking my bag from him and walking quickly after Sam.

"Oh come on!" Dean called after me. "Come on, Beth, I didn't mean it." But I was shaking my head and jogging to catch up with Sam. It was high time that we all admitted that none of us were dealing with Dad's death, but it wasn't going to be me to open that can of worms.

I was walking sullenly along the road an hour later, staring at the line of windmills in the field next to us, something about the way they swished in unison to the wind was comforting. Dean had rejoined us while Sam was on the phone, but I didn't have anything I wanted to say. Better to leave him be for now and talk about it later, which I knew we would, we never stayed angry at one another for long.

Sam hung up from being on the phone with Ellen, turning to look at Dean. "Rakshasa," he said simply.

"What's that?" Dean asked, looking at him.

"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 in." Sam informed us.

"So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in." I said, frowning. It was a good ploy.

"Yeah," Sam said nodding.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asked looking puzzled.

"No idea." Sam said. "Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"

"What else did you find out?" Dean asked.

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

I grimaced. "Nice..." After our little trip to Oasis Plains, bugs weren't really that high up on my favourites list. By Dean's expression, I could see he was thinking the same thing.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess." Sam finished.

"Well, that makes sense. I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81." I said, nodding.

"Right. Probably more before that." Sam agreed.

"Hey, who do we know that worked both shows?" Dean asked, looking at me and then Sam.

"Cooper?" I asked, shrugging.

"Cooper." Dean nodded.

"You know, that picture of his father, it looked just like him," I mused. He might be on to something.

"You think maybe it was him?" Sam asked me.

"Well who knows how old he is?" I asked, shrugging. It was always a possibility.

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Dean asked, thinking ahead.

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass." Sam said. Dean inclined his head, thinking.

"I think I know where to get one of those." He said thoughtfully.

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him." Sam said.

"Oh you're suck a stickler for details, Sammy. All right, I'll round up the blade, you two check if Cooper's got bedbugs." Dean said.

When I didn't say much of anything in response to that Dean crossed over to me, gently taking my arm and pulling me to a stop. He nodded at Sam to keep walking, who threw us a confused look but kept going just the same.

"What do you want Dean?" I asked, turning hurt eyes to him.

"I'm sorry." He said, looking down at me, his eyes held genuine remorse for snapping at me earlier.

I sighed. "Dean, you know I'm gonna let you do your thing, we all have to handle Dad's death in any way that works. I haven't pushed you, I've let you be. But that was totally uncalled for before." He was nodding.

"Yeah I know, it's just..." He sighed. "I don't know Beth. I have to be strong, Dad would want me to. For you and for Sam." His eyes were sad, vulnerable. I reached to lay a hand against the side of his face.

"I thought we were over this macho crap, you know you can talk to me." He nodded. "Dean, I'm here, I'm always here."

"You nearly weren't." He said softly, looking at me.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"That crash Beth, you nearly didn't make it... I don't even know how you did from what Sam told me. I don't even want to think about it, what could have happened." He looked away, troubled.

I sighed, dropping my bag on the ground and stepping in to put my arms around his waist, resting my head against his chest. He returned the hug, squeezing me tight.

"I know," I said. "I know what you mean." I'd felt exactly the same way. This was the first we'd even mentioned it in over a week.

Sam was looking at us having stopped about thirty yards up the road. I pulled back and looked at Dean, time to get on with the job. Now that was something Dad would have wanted us all to do. Head in the game, not on our emotions.

"Come on," I said with a smile and he nodded. I picked up my bag and then I felt his hand take the straps from me once more, hoisting it on to his shoulder. He smiled, and put the same arm around me, pulling me in beside him. I slid my arm around his waist and we walked like this, comfortable, together as we went to catch up to Sam. For a moment, things actually felt ok.

Carnival

We waited until nightfall, when all the people had gone home. Sam and I were at Cooper's trailer, I was picking the lock while he stood watch. It was an easy lock and opened without any issue. We slipped in and looked about, the trailer looked empty. Sam pulled out a pocket knife and went over to the bed, pulling up the sheet on the bed to get at the mattress.

I heard a shotgun cock behind me and froze. Sam looked up, alarmed.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cooper asked us, looking over at Sam who was now kneeling on the floor.

Oh shit.

We had to think fast. I turned and threw myself into Sam's arms, kissing his neck then looking back at little guiltily at Cooper.

"Ohh, sorry... we must have the wrong trailer.." I said sheepishly and Sam gaped at me.

"Get out of here!" Cooper said shaking his head and we didn't have to be asked twice.

We were hurrying back toward where we'd left Dean when he came racing past us at a dead on run.

"Dean!" I called out and he skidded to a stop, spinning to look at us.

"Hey..." He said a little out of breath.

Sam and I walked up to him. "So, Cooper thinks we're misguided lovers, but it's not him." I said. Dean circled back past us looking around anxiously.

"Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guy, he just vanished in front of me and started chucking knives at my head... he's here somewhere." He said, spinning around and looking.

"So did you get the..." Sam started to ask.

"The brass blades?" Dean interrupted, shaking his head. "No, it's been one of those days."

He stopped for a second and looked back at me wide-eyed, "Wait... misguided lovers?" I shrugged and he frowned at me. Sam ignored him.

"I got an idea." Sam said, leading us toward the fun house. I hesitated just slightly before we went inside, and Dean looked at me.

"I really don't like fun houses." I muttered and he chuckled. Sam seemed to know where he was going so we followed his lead.

I was following Sam when a door slammed behind me, separating us from Dean.

"Beth!" Dean yelled.

"Dean!" I yelled, shouldering the door. I heard him pounding from the other side, but it wouldn't budge.

"Dean, find the maze ok?" Sam instructed, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me down the passage. We wandered down the iridescent passageways looking for the creature. Sam spotted a pipe organ at the end of one of the sections and went up to it. Almost a brass dagger.

I hesitated looking at the steam. Sam reached out to grab one of the pipes, flinching at contact from the heat. He took a cloth out of his pocket and started pulling at the pipe.

Dean rounded the corner and walked up to us. "Hey," he said looking at us a little relieved.

"Hey, where is it?" I asked, glancing back at him.

"I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see it's clothes walking around?" Dean asked, turning to look behind him.

"Look out!" He yelled suddenly, pushing me back against the wall as a knife went flying past. It caught his jacket sleeve and pinned him to the wall, another knife landed seconds later, pinning his wrist.

"Dean!" I yelled, running over to him and trying to pull one of the knives out, it was stuck, rammed half way to the hilt. I looked at Dean a little panicked.

"Sam!" Dean called out and I looked over to see him pull the pipe all the way off the organ and move forward. A knife flew past his head, but he dodged it.

"Beth where is it?" Sam yelled at me, I looked around, still struggling with the knife at Dean's wrist.

"I don't know!" I called back. Dean looked up and pulled at a lever above our heads, more steam poured from the pipe organ coming into the little area we were in. A vague shape formed in the steam, Dean's eyes widened.

"Sam, behind you! Behind you!" He yelled as I grunted and put all my weight into the knife, managing to pull it free.

Sam reacted instantly and thrust the brass pipe organ behind him, ramming it into the Rakshasa, hitting home.

Dean pushed on the knife under his arm and together we got it free. I turned to see the invisible creature with the pipe still embedded in its stomach, blood pouring from the wound. I pulled on the lever again to shut off the steam, the creature had fallen and when the steam cleared there was only empty clothes and a bloody pipe to attest it had ever been there.

"God I hate fun houses!" I muttered, taking a deep breath and looking for the exit.

Harvelle Roadhouse
The Next Day

The boys were sitting at the bar at the Roadhouse looking a little bedraggled for the lack of sleep, but we were safe and no one was throwing knives at us, so all in all, it had been a good day so far. Ellen put a couple of beers down in front of them, I watched it all from over by the jukebox, flipping through the playlist.

"You kids did a hell of a job. Your dad would be proud." Ellen said with a smile.

"Thanks," Sam said, smiling back.

Jo was sitting next to Dean and I watched as she gave Sam a not so subtle look to get lost. Dean looked a little amused and took a long swig of his beer, staring ahead of him.

"Hey Beth, so... anything good on that thing?" Sam asked, turning to walk over to me throwing me a wary look. I grinned and shrugged, letting him know I'd seen the look, he shook his head, not so amused. He was a little over protective like that.

"So...," Jo said, clearing her throat.

"So." Dean said with a nod.

"Am I gonna see you again?" Jo asked, looking at Dean side-on.

"Do you want to?" Dean asked and Sam threw me a confused look.

"I wouldn't hate it." Jo answered with a little smile. Dean nodded, looking down at his beer. I noticed Ellen's ears had perked up at the conversation, she was wiping down the counter behind her, but she was listening more than she was working.

"Hmmm. Can I be honest with you?" Dean said, looking at Jo. "See, a few years ago, I'd be hitting on you so fast it'd make your head spin. But, uh, these days..." He looked over at me, and I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm kind of involved," he smiled at me and I returned the smile, looking over at Sam with a raised eyebrow. Sam grinned and stopped looking so worried for my sake. Jo didn't miss the look.

"You two...?" Jo said, inclining her head toward me.

Dean nodded, taking another swig of his beer. Jo threw a confused look between the pair of us.

"Uhh.. ok, that's a... weird family dynamic you got goin' on there," she said, shaking her head, sitting back on her stool.

"She's not his sister." Ellen said, turning toward the bar.

Jo paused. "I thought you said John was your Dad?" She looked at me.

"He is," I said quietly, walking around to join Ellen on the other side of the bar. I was going to need something harder to drink, and by the looks of it, so did Dean.

"Adopted," Ellen said, looking at me. "When she was a teenager," she explained to Jo.

I looked at Ellen, uncapping the tequila bottle I'd helped myself to under the bar. I poured a couple of shots and tossed a questioning look at Dean.

I lifted the shot glass to my lips and downed the whole thing, grimacing at the taste. "It seems you know an awful lot about me," I said, turning to Ellen, "when I still don't know a thing about you."

Dean had a curious expression on his face. He hadn't missed the reference to my past either. Ellen hesitated and then glanced at me.

"Yeah well, it's a small world, I know a lot of things about a lot of people," she said.

"Bull," Dean said, looking at her. "How do you know about Beth?"

She stared at him a moment before dropping her eyes. When she looked up there was a nostalgic look to her.

"There was a time we didn't live here in Nebraska. Long before Jo was born, we were just married and we lived up in Chippewa Falls." She paused, looking down and taking a deep breath before continuing her story.

"One day Bill came across a possessed girl, didn't know what to do, and a preacher man helped him out." Ellen looked at me, "That was your dad, they'd met in the marine corps."

"Go on." Dean said, reaching for the tequila I'd put in front of him.

"Patrick taught him everything he knew about demons and how to deal with them, they became close friends, even considered him family," Ellen paused, looking over at Dean. "Heck, he was the one who introduced us to your daddy." I blinked back tears.

"Wait, so Beth's dad got your husband into the business?" Sam asked.

Ellen nodded, looking over at me.

"I would have had you come here Beth, after your Dad passed, I owed him that much. But you'd already been with John and the boys six months by the time I found out. I told him to bring you here, John wouldn't hear of it, said I had my hands full being a widow with a young daughter." She looked at me appraisingly. "Said you'd be better off with them, as much as I argued."

I looked at Dean and he looked surprised, we'd never heard any of this.

"Well..." I said with a shrug. "I'm sure he had his reasons." I didn't know what to say to any of that.

"Yeah well, Dad made the right decision," Dean said out of the blue, looking at me. I smiled at him and Ellen just cocked her head with a thoughtful expression. He turned to Jo with a grin. "Hell that practically makes you my sister!" I frowned, I didn't know how he arrived at that conclusion, but he seemed happy with it.

Jo scoffed and turned to look at me with fresh eyes. I put another shot in front of Dean and his hand brushed mine as I pulled it back, his eyes looked on with affection and I smiled, blushing a little with the minor touch. He still made me feel like I was sixteen years old with those little gestures.

The moment was broken by the back door opening and Ash sashaying through it carrying our brown folder of research and a bizarre looking laptop.

"Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya." He asked, looking at us all around the bar.

"We were working a job, Ash." Sam said. "Clowns?"

"Clowns?" Ash said shaking his head and reeling back, "What the f-?"

"You got something for us Ash?" Dean interrupted.

Ash set the laptop down on the table, I gave it a curious look, it was almost like he'd hooked it all up himself, there were exposed wires all over the place due to no outer casing. It was the most bizarre thing I'd seen in a while – and I saw a lot of weird stuff.

"Did you find the demon?" I asked, coming to take a closer look.

"It's nowhere around," Ash answered. "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie." I raised my eyebrow... like divine on what?

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, frowning.

"I mean," He said, turning the laptop toward Dean and Sam. "Any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm." Dean was staring at the laptop wide-eyed, he reached out to touch.

"Do you mind...?" Ash gave him a death-stare and Dean paused, withdrawing his hand with a little smile.

"Hey what's up man..." Ash said sternly to him, acting all macho.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Sam asked, he was staring at the computer, stunned and impressed.

"M.I.T. Before I got bounced for... fighting." Ash said with an odd look.

"M.I.T?" Sam asked, sceptical.

"It's a school in Boston." Ash said condescendingly.

"Ok." Dean said with a nod, sitting back on his stool. "You give us a call as soon as you know something?"

"Si, si, compadre." Ash said with a nod.

Dean took another swig of his beer and set it down, getting up to leave. Ash picked the discarded bottle up and took a drink, obviously not worried about cooties.

We all stood to leave, looking around us at Ellen and Jo.

"Hey listen, if you kids need a place to stay, I've got a couple of beds out back." Ellen offered.

Dean glanced at us and then back at Ellen. "Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish." He said before turning to us and heading out the door.

Bobby's Place
Sioux Falls – A few days later.

Dean and I were out at the car again. Dean was unscrewing the bolts on the wheel to change the tire, and I was picking through nuts and bolts, sorting them into sizes. Sam paced nearby.

"You were right," Sam said, looking uncomfortable and hovering at the end of the Impala. Dean stood up and circled around him looking for a tool.

"About what?" Dean asked.

"About me and Dad," Sam said as Dean started tossing bits of scrap into a pile nearby. "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 eyes were full of tears and he was clearly struggling, like we all were.

Dean looked at Sam, they stared at each other for a moment.

"I miss him, man." Sam whispered. "And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all." Sam confessed, looking down and taking a shaky breath, fighting off the tears in his eyes.

"But neither are you guys. That much I know." Sam said looking over at me as much as he did at Dean. He sighed. "I'll let you get back to work." I bit my lip and looked away, Dean continued to look at Sam, silent, unmoving.

Sam headed back to the house and I watched him go in silence. Dean was still staring at Sam's back, who knows what he was thinking. When Sam was out of sight he picked up a crowbar and swung it at the car nearest him, smashing out the window. I jumped, startled and not expecting that.

He then turned and started slamming it into the trunk of the Impala, over and over and over creating a massive dent clear through the metal. I froze, unsure of what I should be doing, unsure of whether I should even be here. Eventually Dean's swings slowed, and stopped altogether, the crowbar clattering to the ground as he leaned on the trunk, breathing heavily, his posture defeated. He staggered back from the trunk, glaring at the car, and struggling to contain his feelings.

I took a few steps away, intending to leave him be, he hadn't even looked at me, possibly had forgotten I was even there. Once I moved he looked up at me, turning to throw an agonised look at me. "No..." He whispered, crossing to me and shaking his head. "No, don't go." He wrapped his arms around me and I pulled him close, holding him silently. "Don't go," he whispered again and I nodded against his chest. We just stood there, in the heat of the day, sun shining down on us, yet everything felt grey and dull, I wondered whether we'd ever feel happy again.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Next up – vampires! :D Hope you enjoyed the story, please drop me a review if you did and let me know what you like most about it! They always make my day :D

The song for this chapter is: Give me a sign by Breaking Benjamin

Trivia: Beth is reading Janet Evanovich's Stephanie Plum series – my favourite book series, full on funny – so just a little shout out to that! If reading the most recent release, Beth would have been reading Two for the Dough, book 2 in a series that is currently 19 books long and still going strong!