On the last stretch of clear road in central Nebraska Jen pushed the speedometer of the Camaro past 115, the windows were down, fresh air blowing in, the engine rumbling. She was smiling and laughing at the adrenaline that was pumping through her,

"Oh I missed you so much."

Dean laughed from the passenger seat, "You two need a room?"

Jen stroked the steering wheel, "Don't you listen to him. He is just jealous that his car doesn't stand a chance against you."

"Ha-ha-ha. Baby could kick your car's ass any day."

"Yeah right." Jen said. She looked over and they shared a smile. Sam yelled, over the engine and the wind, from the back seat,

"Hey, we should be getting close to the turn off."

Jen's face fell in disappointment and lifted her foot from the gas, the needle drifted down below eighty. A few dirt roads up, the car turned and then they came to this run down bar, the sign read 'Roadhouse'. There were no vehicles in the lot and all the lights were off. A few neons shown through the windows.

Jen stepped out, grabbing a bag, and leaned on the door, "Looks like a fine, upstanding establishment."

They walked up to the door, which when tried was locked. Sam called out and knocked on the door, "Hello? Anybody here?"

Jen walked around the side, trying to peer into windows, but the poor lighting on the inside made it impossible to see. Dean snapped his fingers at Sam,

"Hey. You bring the, uh,"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Of course."

He tosses the lockpick to Dean, who catches it and quickly slides the pins and rollers. The door swings freely.

"Jen!" Dean hissed, when she doesn't respond, he and Sam enter the bar cautiously. It is quiet, except for the buzzing of a few flies and the snaps when they hit the bug lamp. There is a man passed out on a pool table. Sam pokes him in the arm,

"Hey, buddy?...I'm guessing that isn't Ellen. "

Dean nods, "Yeah."

Sam wanders off into a back room as Dean shuffles through the bar, looking for anything. He stops as he feels the something stiff touch the middle of his back, swallowing and raising his hands,

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle."

The gun pumps and a woman's voice replies, "No, I'm just real happy to see you...Don't move."

"Not moving, copy that… You know, you should know something, miss. 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 do…"

He turned quickly, fluidly, snatching the rifle, turning it on her and cocking it, "...That."

The blonde woman reeled back, punching Dean in the face, taking back the rifle. He doubles over, nose gushing blood, "Son of a bitch...Sam! Need some help in here."

Another gun cocks, Jen appears out of the shadows, 45' drawn, pointed down at the head of the blonde, "Drop the gun bitch."

The blonde looks between Dean and Jen, debating,"I don't take orders at the end of a gun."

Jen tips the gun, "Then you will take them with a few extra holes."

Sam comes out of saloon doors, hands on his head,"Ah...Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up."

A short, older brunette is walking behind him, handgun to his head. The lady looks at what is unfolding in front of her, thinking, then she asks, "Sam? Dean? Winchester?"

"Yeah." They said together.

She uncocked the gun, "Son of a bitch."

The blonde still had the gun on Dean, "Mom, you know these guys?"

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys.." She lowered the gun, laughing, "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo...But I don't know you..."

Ellen looked past Jo to Jen who still had her gun up. Jen rolled her eyes and shoves the gun into the back of her pants, "Jen."

Ellen nodded, "That come with a last name?"

"Wesson."

Ellen shrugged, "Alrighty then, who wants a drink?"

They all sat at the bar. Ellen poured them each a glass of whiskey. Ellen was about the same height as Jen, maybe an inch or so taller. She had straight, light brown hair and looked like an reformed biker, in about her mid-forties. Jo was short, shorter than Jen by almost a head, and really petite, looked early twenties. Ellen grabbed a towel and ice for Dean, "Here you go."

Dean put it against his face, "Thanks. You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

She leaned back against the shelving, "Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it."

Dean was immediately suspicious, "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?"

Ellen raised her hands, "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."

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?"

Ellen refilled their glasses, Sam was sitting quietly and Jen was perched forward on her barstool, watching both Jo and Ellen warily.

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen continued.

Dean swallowed another sip, wincing at the burn, "So why exactly do we need your help?"

"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 the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if... "

She watches the three look between each other, realizing, "...He didn't send you."

Dean looked down at his lap, refusing to answer, Ellen keeps going,

"He's all right, isn't he?"

Sam shook his head, "No. 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."

Dean got defensive, "It's okay. We're all right."

"Really? I know how close you and your dad were..."

"Really, lady, I'm fine." Dean cut her off. Jen looked between them, then spoke softly, "Look, if you could help us out, we would appreciate it. It has been a rough week of jack shit. We keep hitting dead ends…"

Ellen shrugged, "Well, we can't... But Ash will."

Jen's eyebrows furrowed, "Who's Ash?"

"Ash!" Ellen yelled and the man on the pool table jerked awake, flailing, trying to sit up, falling to the ground.

"What? It closin' time?"

Jen laughed, "That's Ash?"

Jo nodded, "Mm-hmm. He's a genius. "

Ash got up brushing himself off. He wore a cut-off plaid shirt, jean sleeveless jacket, crappy facial hair and had a mullet. Dean started laughing,

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.

Ash sat on a stool between Jen and Dean, turning to Dean, "I like you."

Dean nodded skeptically, bringing the rag back to his nose. "Thanks."

"Just give him a chance." Jo said, leaning over the bar.

Jen grabbed a folder from her bag, it was full of papers, " This stuff's about a year's worth of John's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it. I'm no slouch but I can't see the difference between this demon and any other demon."

Ash grabbed the papers out of her hands and began flipping through it. Dean shot Jen a skeptical look and she just shrugged. Ash shook his head, mumbling, "Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this. "

Sam smiled, "Our dad could."

"There are nonparametrics, 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... You ever been struck by lightening? It ain't fun."

Dean pointed at the folder, "Can you track it or not?"

Ash nodded, "Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…" He counted on his fingers, mumbling, "... fifty one hours. "

Ash gathers the stuff and walks off, mumbling to himself. Dean yells after him, "Hey, man?"

Ash spins around, "Yeah."

"I, uh, I dig the haircut. "

Ash smiles, pointing, "All business up front, party in the back."

"Here." I grab the rag off of Dean.

"Wh-Ouch!" I grabbed his chin and put his head toward the ceiling, pinching the bridge of nose,

"Hold it there." He started to choke as the blood ran down his throat, I couldn't help myself, "So I take it you spit, not swallow."

Dean started laughing, coughing, "Bite me."

I winked, "Anytime."

He just shook his head.I looked around, Sam was down the bar talking to Ellen. Jo sat down between Dean and me, "Sorry about the nose."

Dean removed the rag, "No your not...How did your mom get into this stuff, anyway?"

"From my dad. He was a hunter. He passed away."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad. "

"Yeah... So... Now I guess we've got fifty-one hours to waste." Dean faced the bar again and put his head in his hands. I watched Jo's body language, leaning towards Dean, she broke the silence. "You know, I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap pickup line. 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."

Dean chuckles uncomfortably, "Well... what a bunch of scumbags."

Jo raised her eyebrows, "Not you…"

Dean looked past her at me, "I guess not. "

I smiled back at him, remembering, thinking about two nights ago. I was daydreaming. Sam's raised voice made me jump, "Guys, come here, check this out."

I rubbed my face, swinging off the stool, "Yeah?"

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

Dean pushed the file back at Sam, "Yeah. So?"

"So, I told her we'd check it out. "

I drove the Camaro through the rain, it was just after dark. The water pouring made it slow going.I leaned my head against my casted hand. Dean sat in the passenger seat and Sam was in the back with a flashlight looking through the file,"Well according to this, the witness statement, we are looking for a... clown."

I scoffed, "A killer clown? Are you freaking kidding me?"

Dean put his hand over the seat, looking back at Sam, "I mean this isn't like some It thing, that kinda crap doesn't happen."

"...Yeah,well, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually."

I slowed the car as the visibility went to absolutely nothing, "Shit!...What was the family doing that day?"

"At a carnival...uh… the Cooper Carnivals."

I ran my hand through my hair, frustrated, "So how do we know we aren't just dealing with a psycho carnie?"

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

Dean started laughing, I looked over confused, "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?"

Sam slammed the file down on the seat, "Oh, give me a break."

"Hey, hey, hey...take it easy on my leather."

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

Sam sneared, "Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying."

"Planes crash!"

"And apparently clowns kill!"

I was laughing now, "You mean you guys hunt shit all your life and you are both afraid of totally normal thing? Jeez..."

Dean cut me off, "So these types of murders, they ever happen before?"

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales"

That was different, "That's weird because spirits are usually bound to a particular place, like a house or town."

Dean replied, "So how is the spook moving from town to town?"

I shrugged, "Cursed object, like that priest?"

"Great…" Sam started, "... Paranormal scavenger hunt. "

Dean turned, "Well, this case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"So?"

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

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

Freakin-ay. This was going to be fantastic car ride. Dean started to get pissed, "What Dad would have wanted?"

"Yeah. So?"

Dean shrugged, "Nothin'. "

The car was silent, tension thick, "Hey I think I might pull off at the next motel. I can't see shit and we are only ten miles outta town anyway…"

"That's fine." Dean cut me off. Cranky much. A few miles later I saw the lights from a roadside motel. I pulled up close to the office, and reached for the door, Dean grabbed my shoulder,

"I got this."

I watched him walk in, Sam leaned over the seat, "Has he talked to you?"

"About what?"

"Jen, you know, he hasn't said a damn thing about our dad since he died. He isn't dealing with it, he is just ignoring it."

"Sam...everyone deals in their own way. You aren't helping either. You can't keep asking how he is doing 'cause he is never going to answer. Or at least not give you the answer you want to hear."

Sam sighed, "It is just Dad would have…"

"Listen man, I know you want to honor his memory and all that, but you can't push Dean like that. You two will just end up fighting…"

I was cut off as Dean opened the door and climbed in. "Here. You have the room next to us."

He tossed me a key, "You serious?"

Nodding, he pointed, "Yeah. Drive."

I raised my hands, "Alright...I just figured we were only going to be in town a night or two."

I pulled the Camaro in front of my room, grabbed my shit and slammed the door. I was kinda pissed. It wasn't like Sam didn't know about us, or at least had put two and two together, and I wasn't planning on doing anything, so why the hell waste the money? The only thing I could figure was he was pissed about John again, pissed at Sam, and inadvertently taking it out on me. I turned the key and tossed my bag on the bed, slouching down, sprawling out. There wasn't anything to do until we went into town tomorrow, so all I had to do was sit here twiddling my thumbs. I pulled my laptop out and just did basic web searches, looking for any other history that might have been missed. There was a knock on my door, and then it swung open, Dean entered. I looked up at him, nodded and then looked back down at the screen, not saying a word. Like I said, kinda pissed.

He walked slowly across the room, I never looked up, "Don't even."

"Jen...I…"

"No." I looked up. His shoulders slumped,

"What did I do?"

I rubbed my eyes, "Listen Dean, give me a break, okay? Even I reserve the right to be angry for no logical reason every once in awhile."

"Is it something I did?"

I exhaled heavily, resting my head on my hand, "Not really, just a shitty day. And then you're in a pissy mood, which I understand why. But I haven't done anything, and when you and Sam fight, you both put me in the middle...It sucks because I see both of your sides, but I'm kinda biased, but you guys come as a package deal, so..."

Dean walked, cautiously across the room and slipped on the bed between me and the headboard, a leg on either side of me. His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest. He reached past me and scrolled the laptop with one hand, the other hand rubbing up and down my side,

"Anything interesting?"

"Nothing we don't already know." I said tiredly. Dean just shut the laptop and put it on the nightstand. I leaned my head back on his chest, Dean absentmindedly ran his hand over my stomach, down my arms. Reaching down his fingers intertwined with my casted ones and he brought them up to his lips,

"Jen?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not pissed at you, or even Sam. I'm pissed at my dad."

That wasn't exactly what I had expected, I turned sideways so that I could look at his face,

"It is what he said to you in the hospital." I wasn't asking a question.

Dean nodded, his face hard, jaw clenched, clearly in pain. I quickly got to my knees, facing him, "Dean?"

He swallowed hard, a tear ran down his face and he brushed it away. I didn't know what to do. He was still leaning back, not facing me. I put my hand on his knee, I spoke softly,

"Hey? It's okay." More tears ran down from Dean's eyes. I put my hands on either side of his face, I leaned forward and kissed him lightly, not knowing what else to do. When I sat back up he finally looked me in the eye,

"Dad told me...he told me that if I couldn't save Sam...I…would have to kill him."

My heart dropped out of my chest, shit. "What?...Why?"

He wiped his eyes again, "I don't know. But how could he put that on me? I could never…"

"I know."

"Jen, what am I supposed to do?"

"You haven't said anything to Sam?"

He shook his head, "What would I tell him?"

"Nothing, he would freak. Especially because he is hard on himself. And that whole thing with Yellow Eyes…"

"Yeah…" I placed my good hand on his cheek and wiped away his tears with my thumb.

"Hey, everything is gonna be alright. I mean, I should know right?"

Dean scoffed and shook his head. I leaned in and kissed him again, his hands pulled in my hair. I broke it and he wrapped his arms around, pulling me into his chest. Dean's head rested on mine. I didn't know what to think about this new info. Sam never had posed a threat, I mean the guy had the biggest conscious out of any of us. The chances of him going dark side, zero.

"Dean...We will figure this out."

He never responded, just laid there, hands running up and down my arms. I didn't sleep much that night, he didn't either.

I was up by 5AM and listening to the police scanner, drinking coffee. Mostly it was random chatter, checking in, drunks, and the like. A little before eight and three pots of coffee later, there was a change,

'Just got a 911, disturbance. Neighbors called it in.'

'10-4. Will check it out.'

'It is weird, they said a clown entered and exited'

Shit, we were too late to save that family. We would have to get to that carnival ASAP.

"Dean!" I smacked his leg, "C'mon, we gotta go."

"Mhm..sure" He replied sleepily.

"Call came over the radio, two more dead. We gotta find what this damn thing is."

I left and knocked on the other door where Sam was,"Sam! Let's go!"

I jumped in the car and started it, revving the engine, slamming the heel of my hand against the horn. The boys finally came trotting toward the car, hopping in. I squealed the tires as I headed to town. Sam and Dean made a few calls on the way over, pretending to be law enforcement, figuring out what happened. I parked in the lot and we approached the carnival entrance, I nodded towards men in cheap suits talking to some carnies,

"Five-oh is already here."

I lean back on the bars of a ride and watch everyone. The boys do the same. A dwarf woman walks past us in a clown outfit. Sam jumps away, she pauses, and they have a stare down before she moves on. Dean elbows his brother,

"Did you get her number?"

"Shut-up." He scowls.

"What did you two get on the way over?"

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

Sam nodded, "Who fingered a clown."

Dean shifted uncomfortably, "Yeah, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

I turned to them, "Fantastic, so we are looking for a needle in a stack of needles. It could be freaking anything."

Dean shrugged, "Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything. "

Sam huffed, "Oh, good, that's nice and... inconspicuous. "

I spot a sign that was behind us, "Well...I think I just found a way to make it look a little less inconspicuous."

I point to the Help wanted sign. They turn to look, Dean shrugs, "Alright then."

We walk around until we get to this one tent that workers are bustling in and out of. A man is inside throwing knives at a target, they never quite hit the middle. Dean clears his throat,

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?

The guy turns on Dean, "What is that, some kind of joke?"

He removes his sunglasses to reveal clouded eyes. The dude is blind. Dean starts backing away, "Oh. God, I'm, I'm sorry."

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?"

Dean turned to me and Sam, speaking quietly "Wanna give me a little help here?"

I shook my head, slapping his shoulder, "You are on your own bud."

"Hey man, is there a problem?" I turn and see a midget enter the tent. The blind man points in Dean's direction,

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people."

Dean started tripping over his own words, "No, I don't, I…"

The midget looks accusingly at Dean, "Hey buddy, what's your problem?"

Dean puts up his hands, "Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding."

"Little?! You son of a bitch!"

Dean is flustered, "No, no, no, no! I'm just, could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?"

I am doubled over laughing, Sam is chuckling. I finally took pity on Dean,

"Could one of you please tell us how to find Mr. Cooper?"

They had pointed us to a place back with the trailers, Mr. Cooper walked and guided us back to his office,

"You guys picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat."

I look and there are only two seats available; one is a normal folding chair, the other...bright pink with a clown face. Dean scrambles for the normal chair. I stand behind him, Sam scowls. I nod toward the clown chair, he shifts uneasily and sits, trying not to make a scene. I was him keep fidgeting, Dean and I shared an amused look. Mr Cooper keeps on talking, sitting behind a desk,

"...We've got all kinds of local trouble. "

I furrowed my brow, "Why?"

"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first. So, you three ever worked the circuit before?"

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

"Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS men?"

Before I could stop him, Sam continued talking, "Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess."

Mr Cooper laughed, "You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"

Dean shook his head, "Nope. But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady."

Cooper sighed, turning a picture from his desk to us, "You see that picture? That's my daddy."

I smile lightly, "You look like him."

"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow. 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. You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three? You should go to school. Find someone to settle down with, have two point five kids. Live regular."

I started to talk but Sam cut me off, "Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this."

Cooper looks between all of us for a second, glances down at his desk and then nods, "Alright then."

He handed us some paperwork on who we were reporting to and then sent us on our way. When we were out on the main walk, Dean turned to Sam,

"Huh."

"What?" Sam asked.

"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? Sam?"

"I don't know. " Sam shrugged.

"You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

Sam starts to walk off, "I'm having second thoughts. "
"Really?"

"Yeah. I think. Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."

Fuckin' ay. This shit was starting up again. Why couldn't Sam just drop it, everything would be fine then. But Dean wasn't about to walk away either,

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

Sam turned, pissed, "Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?"

"Naw, I don't have a problem at all."

I got between them, "You two need to cut the shit. We are on a job right now. You can fight about this later, now we have people to save. Get your damn heads out of your asses."

A few hours later all three of them were dressed in red 'Cooper Carnival' uniforms, picking up trash. Sam makes his way into a funhouse, scanning the EMF meter shoved up his sleeve, passing various objects, mirrors, and unidentifiable articles or memorabilia. A skeleton falls through the ceiling behind him and he jumps forward, breathing heavily. Turning, Sam scans it and it gives off no reading.

Dean and Jen were working about fifty feet apart, across the park, scanning their EMFs as well. Dean's phone rings as he dumps a bag into a dumpster,

"Hello?"

"Hey, man." It was Sam on the other end,

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown. "

"Very funny. Skeleton, actually."

"Like a real human skeleton?"

"In the funhouse. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object - what if it's attached to its own remains?"

By now Jen was standing beside him, listening to the conversation. She pointed to her sleeve, Dean nodded and asked,

"Did the bones give off EMF?"

"Well, no, but - "

"We should check it out anyway. We are heading to you."

He flipped the phone shut, they turned and ran headlong into the blind man, "What are you two doing here?"

"I'm... We were just sweeping." Dean stutters out.

"Bull. And what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?"

Dean laughs uncomfortably, "Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control. "

He and Jen try to back away, but the blind man follows, "We're a tight-knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems."

Jen stops, "Do we have a problem?"

The blind man's head snapped towards her, "You tell me - you're the ones talking about human bones."

Dean chuckled uncomfortably, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"What?"

"...We and my brother...we, we are writing a book about them. And there is this story about a clown one, attached to Cooper Carnival and Bunker Brothers... We are just looking into it so, um…"

"You know who might know something...Mr. Cooper was a lot manager for Bunker Brothers back in '81"

"We gotta go." Jen pulled Dean around and they walked quickly away. She looked back and saw the man's head turned to the sound of their footsteps. Jen started jogging, pulling Dean with her, that man gave her the willies. When they made it across the park to the funhouse, Sam was pacing impatiently,

"What took you so long?"

"Long story." Dean replied

"Mommy, look at the clown!" A little girl's voice carried over the crowd. They all turned looking to where the girl is pointing. Nothing is there. The mother is confused as well,

"What clown?...Come on, sweetie, come on."

Dean, Sam and Jen glanced between each other. They had just found the next possible victim.

We had, well, stalked the family the rest of the day at the carnival. When they went home, we did a few drive bys. It was dark now and we were sitting in the Camaro outside the family's house. They weren't exactly doing anything interesting. Dean was in the back and catching Sam up on the information we had gotten from the blind man,

"Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown. "

"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real. "

I heard Dean sliding salt rounds into a shotgun. Sam freaked, "Keep that down!"

Dean set it down and leaned up between the seats, "Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what...Before Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."

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

I turned to reply but jumped back because I hadn't expected Dean to be only half a foot from my face. But I guess it is a small car and he is a big guy. I cleared my throat, "I guess Cooper is probably unintentionally doing it, but we can't be sure. What I don't get is how is it getting so far away from the carnival."

Dena shook his head and shrugged, " I can't believe we keep talking about clowns. "

Around eleven the house goes completely dark. Dean is dozing, snoring. I look over and Sam's eyes are starting to fall as he leans against the window. I rub my eyes, blinking hard, fighting sleep. I take a sip of coffee and look back towards the house. Another few hours pass.

A light flips on upstairs, followed by one in the dining room. A little girl opens the door, a clown vaporizes outside walking inside, following her,

"Guys! Time to go!" We all scramble out of the car. Sprinting across the yard, Dean tosses me a shotgun. Inside, we move fluidly, clearing room by room. Sam heads for the stairs, but I hear a creak behind the lower landing. I let out a low whistle and point. Sam moves around through the living room, Dean and I head through the dining room. Another creak sounds, and I shove Dean against the wall, into the shadows. Around the corner the girl appears, holding the hand of the clown, speaking to him,

"Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs."

I see Sam in the shadows across from us and I nod. He moves quickly, grabbing the girl. Dean cocks his shotgun, hitting the clown full in the chest with a round. The clown falls backwards, but shakes it off. It gets back up and moves toward Dean. What the hell? Spooks aren't immune to salt. I pull up my gun and unload a round into its head, it turns on me angrily. I back away,

"Jen! Get down!"

I hit the deck and hear rounds from a 45 as Dean unloads a clip into it. The clown begins to run away, smashing a window and disappearing into thin air. I breathe heavily, processing. A horde of angry voices jolts me back to reality,

"What's going on here? Get away from my-"

A woman starts screaming, "Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!"

"...Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!"

"Mommy, Daddy, they shot my clown!"

I feel Dean's hand under my shoulder ass he hauls me to my feet. We sprint out the front door and to the car. The engine catches as soon as I turn the key,

"Go, go, go!" Dean yells as him and Sam are able to cram in. The tires squeal and I take turns on two wheels until we are well outta town. I pulled off the road onto a wayside.

"What the fucking hell?"

"I don't know." Sam replied.

"No? What the actual fucking hell?" I looked over at Dean who was in the passenger seat now.

"I don't know. But one thing is for sure, we're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid...Your head shot it and didn't phase it."

Sam started brainstorming, "Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?"

"Well not a person, Dean unloaded a clip into it."

Dean tuned to the back, "Did it say anything in Dad's journal?"

"Nope" Sam replied. I pulled out and started driving down the road, light was just spreading on the horizon. I can hear Sam's phone calling,

"Who are you calling?"

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something. Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

Dean shook his head, "No way."

"Then why didn't he tell us about her? Did he ever say anything to you, Jen?"

I shook my head and Dean shrugged, speaking slowly, "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out. "

"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"

Dean casually nods, ignoring the comment. I can see Sam in the rearview, debating whether or not to talk.

"Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man." Great, he decided not to keep his trap shut. Dean turned to the back,

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this "strong silent" thing of yours, it's bull shit."

Dean slumped into the seat, rolling his eyes, "Oh, god."

Sam was starting to raise his voice, "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 off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to." Dean snapped.

"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."

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"

"Guys...cut it out. That is enough" But I was ignored.

"What are you talking about?" Sam retorted.

"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. "

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked quietly.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"

Sam ignores him, redialing the phone." Hey Ellen...its Sam."

I didn't listen to him talk, I just stared at the road in front of me. I was so sick of this shit. Sam being whiny, Dean being stoic, it was shit. Complete and total fucking shit. I pulled into the motel lot and Sam was still on the phone. I just got out, went into my room and sprawled out on the bed, closing my eyes. I had a headache and didn't want to deal with any of this now. I just wanted to do the job, and then move onto the next one. I hear both of them come in. I can feel Dean sit on the foot of the bed, Sam slides a chair and keeps talking on the phone.

"Thanks a lot…" The phone clicks, "...Rakshasa."

I scoff, not opening my eyes, "Is that some sort of disease?"

"No its 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."

I sit up, "So what? They dress up like clowns for kicks and the kids invite them in?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I guess."

"Why don't they snack on the kids?"

Sam shrugged at me, "No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"

I scoffed, "Just another day at the office I guess."

Dean shook his head, "What else'd you find out?"

Sam glanced at the sheet of paper he had been scribbling on, "Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

My face scrunched, "Oh uck."

Dean laughed at my reaction but Sam continued talking, "Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess."

"Makes sense…" I replied, "...'81 until now?"

Dean looked over at me, leaning back on his hands, "I bet there were probably more before that."

I thought for a moment, "Hey guys? This one is for the daily double... Who do we know that worked both shows?"

"Cooper?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Bingo." I winked.

Sam slowly nodded, "You know, that picture of his father looked just like him…"

I shrugged, "Maybe it was him. Ellen by chance say how to kill him?"

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass."

Dean slapped my knee as he got to his feet, "I think I know where to get one of those. Let's go."

Sam stepped in front of Dean, "Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him."

Dean chuckled, "Oh, you're such a stickler for details, Sammy...All right, I'll round up the blade, you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs. Jen, where you goin'?"

"I guess I will go with you to make sure you don't make an ass of yourself."

He winked, and then said sarcastically, "Don't know what I'd do without you."

"Suffer endlessly, of course."

They had pulled up to the carnival after dark, Jen flipped the lights off about half a mile out. Sam immediately headed for Cooper's trailer while Jen and Dean ran off to find the knife thrower, walking between the campers and eventually made it to the Cooper's trailer, looking over his shoulder, he picks the lock and the door swings freely inward. He fumbles around in the dark, looking for the bed. After tripping over some stuff he found it, pulling out a knife, slicing the mattress open. There was nothing but springs and cotton. Sam stands up and a gun cocks behind him,

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Um...Sorry...wrong...ah" Sam bolts for the door, hitting the ground at a full sprint, looking for Jen and his brother.

Jen and Dean were on the other side of the park. Coming around a corner, she saw the blind man working his way around a building,

"Hey!" Jen yelled and they jogged to catch up with him. He turned,

"Not you two again…"

Dean cut him off, " Hey man we just need some help. We were wondering if you had any brass knives?"

"What you need 'em for?"

Jen thought quickly, "Listen, we will pay for them. But we only need to borrow them for a few hours."

"Follow me…I got all kinds of knives, but I don't know about a brass one." They trailed after him to a back tent. As he enters a back room he smacks a trunk with his walking stick, "Check in there."

Jen kneeled down, flipping it open, rummaging through the first layer of crap. Seeing the contents her stomach dropped, "Ah...Dean?"

Inside the trunk was a full clown costume, the same as the one from last night. Dean looked over her shoulder, "Shit."

Jen flipped around, "You?"

The blind man dropped his walking stick and removed his sunglasses. His eyes were perfectly clear and shown an unnatural shade of orange, "Yeah...me."

He waves slyly, face beginning to melt, body disappearing, eyes last.

"Dean, I think it is time we get lost."

He swallowed hard, "I'll second that."

They ran for the door struggling to open it. A knife whizzes by Jen's ear, followed by another near Dean's hand. Jen jumps as another buries itself in the door above her head. There is disembodied laughter. Another knife flies and slices the side of Dean's calf, "Son of a bitch!"

They finally manage to get the door open, tumbling out, hitting the ground and then booking it through the streets. Sam spots them,

"Hey! "

Jen and Dean skid to a stop, Sam jogs over to them, "So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him. "

Dean breathed heavily, "Yeah, so we gathered. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere."

"Well, did you get the - "

Jen gasped as she caught her breath, "What does it look like Sherlock? You think he is gonna hand over the thing that can kill him?"

Sam started to take off without them, "C'mon! I have an idea"

He jogs between rides, Jen and Dean scamper after, trying not to fall on cords in the dark. Sam stops in front of the funhouse, "The other day, when I was in here, there was this steam pipe organ….Usually those things are made from brass."

Sam went in first, followed by Jen then Dean, turning one corner to another. It was dark except for some low lighting and neon. As they enter another corridor a door from the ceiling slams down, separating Sam from the other two. Jen pounds on the door,

"Sam? You okay?"

His voice is muffled by the door and the creepy carnival music that began to play, "Yeah! You guys gotta get through the maze, we can meet somewhere in the middle. Okay?"

"Okay!" Dean yelled back

It was so dark I could barely see Dean walking in front of me through the passageways. Mirror after mirror caused us both to jump as we caught reflections of ourselves moving. We finally come around a corner and see Sam in the low lighting, unscrewing a steaming pipe with a rag.

"Hey." Dean hisses.

Sam turns, brass pipe in hand, "Hey! Where is it?"

I scan the room, "I have no idea, shouldn't the clothes be floating around…"

A knife flew by my head into the wall behind me. I hit the ground as two more whipped past, pinning Dean's sleeves to the wall. A fourth one hits the floor, inches in front of me. I push myself back across the floor.

"Sam!" Dean warns as Sam stalks the room slowly, pivoting. Another knife flies through the air at his head, he dodges and swings wildly.

"Dean, where is he?"

"I don't know! "

I look around, there is a lever arms length away. I pull it and steam piles into the air. Scanning the room...nothing...nothing...then unnatural swirls seep towards Sam,

"Behind you!"

Sam swings around, stabbing blindly. The pipe hit its mark as the knife throwers blood billows out in midair, falling to the ground, screaming. It smokes and all that is left are empty clothes and a bloody pipe. I exhale, getting up to help Dean. I pull the knives from the wall,

"Gotta admit, he wasn't too shabby at knife throwing...You are bleeding by the way."

Down on his calf, Dean's jeans were soaked with blood, "Shit...I will wrap it in the car."

"You want me to take a look at it?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. Sam, you okay?"

"Yeah."

Dean chuckled uncomfortably, "I hate funhouses."

I rolled my eyes, "Let's get the hell outta here before someone finds this or notices he is missing….I think our fifty-one hours is definitely up."

We made it to the Roadhouse early in the morning. When we arrived, Ellen greeted us with a fresh pot of coffee.

"So how did it go?"

We all sat on barstools, half asleep. Sam jumped into the recap of the last few days. I listened, sipping my coffee. When Sam finally finished Ellen nodded,

"You guys did a hell of a job…" Then she looked between the boys, "Your dad'd be proud."

"Thanks." Sam replied. I looked towards the ground, just zoning out. Turning my head I saw that Dean's jeans were still wet, it should have dried by now.

"Hey Ellen? You got a first aide kit or something?"

"Yeah sure." She disappeared into the back room. Dean turned to me and I nodded down towards his leg. He glanced and shrugged, throwing back some more coffee. Ellen set her kit on the bar, I snatched it up, grabbing Dean on the upper arm. He wouldn't move at first, but I tugged hard, almost pulling him off the barstool. I walked towards a table and shoved him into one of the seats,

"Easy there…" Dean laughed.

"Oh, bite me." I pulled a chair directly in front of him, "Give me your leg."

He lifted his right leg up and I set his foot on the chair, between my legs. I pushed the jeans up, over his knee. The patch-job he had done, with gauze, was soaked with blood.

"I thought you said this wasn't that bad?"

"Could've been worse."

I shook my head starting to clean it out. After I got all the shit out of it, I glanced up, Dean was watching me intently .

"Stop that."

"What?" He smirked.

I look back down and blush, "I hate when you do that...You wanna pull out the needle and suchers?"

He reached into the kit with one hand and tossed me the stuff so I could stitch him up. I threaded the needle, then moved his leg, leaning on his shin so I could see what I was doing. When the needle pierced his skin he flinched, I snickered, "Pussy."

"I seem to remember you having a hard time when I stitched you up."

"I didn't flinch"

"No, you just didn't breathe and turned beat red."

I smiled, "Shut up."

I finished off the stitches and placed some gauze and tape over it, "Well, unfortunately, it looks like you are gonna live. So..."

"So you are gonna have to deal with me for a little longer I guess."

I nod over to the bar, "Looks like your brother's got himself a girlfriend."

Dean looks over his shoulder. Sam and Jo are talking at the bar, "Sammy wouldn't know what to do with that. She would eat him alive."

I laughed but stopped when a back door flung open. Ash appeared carrying the folder and an insane looking laptop. It had wires everywhere, lights flickering. Like I said, totally insane. He tosses it down on our table,

"Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya."

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

Ash stiffened, giving Sam a weird look, "Clowns? What the…"

I cut him off, "Do you have anything for us? Anything on that demon."

Ash sat down in front of the laptop, "It's nowhere around. 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."

Dean leaned across the table, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm."

I nod, sounded legit. Sam pointed at the screen, "Ash, where did you learn to do all this?"

"M.I.T. Before I got bounced for... fighting."

"M.I.T.?" Sam was taken aback.

Ash stretched and cracked his knuckles, "It's a school in Boston. "

I started laughing, "No way...you are that kid who started a brawl on campus and then was running naked through the fountain."

Ash gave me a confused look, "You heard of me?"

"That happened right before I left…"

Dean cleared his throat, "Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?"

Ash nodded, "Si, si, compadre."

He grabbed his shit and disappeared into the back room again. I shook my head, who knew the cover model for Stoners Weekly was a total genius.

"I guess we should probably hit the road guys."

We had been back at Bobby's for a few days. Sam had been waiting for a call from Ash, I just kept bullshitting with Bobby about monsters and hunts. It was nice to have a few days off. Dean was almost finished with the Impala, and even though I had found a couple hunts in the news, I wasn't gonna push until he finished Baby. Bobby had just finished telling me about this shapeshifter hunt down in New Mexico he had done five years ago.

"I'm gonna grab Dean a beer and see if he needs and help."

"Alright kid, let me know if he needs anything."

I grabbed the beer out of the fridge and meandered through the junkyard. When I was a row behind the Impala I heard raised voices. Stopping I listened, Sam and Dean were going at it again.

"You were right Dean."

"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. I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at neither are you. That much I know...I'll let you get back to work."

I hear Sam's footsteps going in the other direction. I come around the corner, Dean is squatted by the car, zoning. I lean on a nearby one and watch him as he picks up a crowbar, flipping it in his hands. He swings it into the windshield of a nearby car, turns and starts pounding it on the Impala's trunk. Over and over again. Once his arms start to tremble, the crowbar clatters to the ground. Dean looks in the direction where Sam had walked off, then turns and sees me watching. Swallowing, he glances down, embarrassed and pissed. I push myself upright, walking to him,

"Here's a beer, and what else do you need help with to get her running?"

Dean looks at me gratefully and pops the hood, showing me what still needs completed. I start to turn wrenches then replace some timing belts as Dean pops the dents from the trunk. We work to the sounds of the tools, no words exchanged between us as the Impala slowly regains her original form. The metal crunching pauses momentarily, arms wrap around my waist and Dean pulls me up against his body, mouth near my ear,

"Thank you." He whispers.