Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of its characters.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed!
Garideth- Of course you're not :P
AngelicScream- Truthfully, I find clowns a little creepy…..
XKaterinaNightingaleX- Yeah, I thought adding it would be a nice touch!
captainbartholomew- I don't like them, either! Thank you!
DemonicLightning- Aw, thank you! I'm happy you're following up with the story!
Chapter name borrowed from Brian Hyland.
CHAPTER FOUR- THE JOKER WENT WILD
We watched the girl's house cautiously.
"Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown," Sam let out an exasperated sigh.
"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown, I never said it was real," Dean pulled out a gun and cocked it.
"Keep that down!" Sam hissed, pushing Dean's hand down.
"Oh, and get this," Dean ignored him.
"I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what?"
"What?"
"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."
~Supernatural~
I dozed lightly, grumbling when Dean shook me awake.
A light flicked on in the dining room.
The little girl went to the front door, letting in the phantom clown.
We crept inside after her, hiding in wait.
"Wanna see Mommy and Daddy?" The girl chirped happily. "They're upstairs."
Sam leapt out and grabbed the girl, and I hung on to her as she started screaming.
Dean shot the clown in the chest.
It fell on it's back, vaulting up as Dean cocked the gun again, jumping through the window.
The girl's parents rushed down the stairs.
"What's going on out here?"
"Oh my god," The mother opened her mouth, horrified.
"What are you doing to my daughter?"
Sam grabbed my hand and tugged me along.
We fled.
Over my shoulder I could hear the girl wail.
"He shot my clown!"
~Supernatural~
Dean parked the minivan off the side of the road, digging out everything in the trunk.
Sam pried off the license plate.
"You really think they saw our plates?"
"I don't want to take the chance," Dean kicked the side of the van.
"Besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway."
We started walking down the road.
"Well, one thing's for sure," Dean slowed slightly.
"What's that?" Sam followed suit.
"We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."
"Yeah, a person?" I looked at Dean questioningly.
"Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?"
"Yeah, and dresses up as a clown for kicks?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Sam, see anything in Dad's journal?"
"Nope," Sam pulled out his cell phone.
"Who are you calling?"
"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something."
Sam coughed awkwardly.
"Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
Dean snorted. "No way."
"Then why didn't he tell us about her?" Sam looked expectantly at Dean.
"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "Maybe they had some falling out."
"Yeah," Sam breathed out tiredly.
"You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"
Dean nodded casually.
Sam lowered the phone. "Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."
"What do you mean?"
Sam huffed. "I mean this 'strong silent' thing of yours, it's crap."
Dean looked heavenward. "Oh, god."
"I'm over it," Sam stopped in his tracks.
"This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."
"You know what, back off, alright?" Dean snapped. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to."
"No, no, no," Sam splayed out his hands.
"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, alright? I just want to make sure you're okay."
"Dean," I spoke up uncertainly, quailing under his angry gaze.
"It's not my place, but please. Listen to him. Your dad wouldn't have wanted this. He'd have wanted you to be okay."
"Dude," Dean glared at us both.
"I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm going to start throwing punches. These are your issues, Sam, don't dump them on me!"
"What are you talking about?"
"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad." Dean spat.
"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."
Sam flinched. "Why are you saying this to me?"
"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this," Dean yelled.
"I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"
~Supernatural~
"Thanks," Sam cut the phone.
"Rakshasa," He told us.
"What's that?"
"Ellen's best guess," Sam avoided Dean's gaze.
"It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures, they appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and cannot enter a home without being invited first."
"So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in," Dean nodded.
"Yeah."
"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"
"No idea," Sam shrugged. "Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?"
I felt faintly nauseated.
"What else'd you find out?"
"Well, apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects." Sam looked at Dean, finally.
"Nice," Dean said.
"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years," Sam shuffled forward.
"Slow metabolism, I guess."
"Well, that makes sense," Dean pursed his lips.
"I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers' in '81."
"Right."
"Hey, Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?"
"Cooper?" Sam cocked an eyebrow.
"Cooper," Dean confirmed.
"You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him."
"You think maybe it was him?"
"Well, who knows how old he is?"
Dean looked back at him.
"Ellen say how to kill him?"
"Uh," Sam paused. "Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass."
"I think I know where to get one of those," Dean caught hold of my arm.
"We'll go round up the blade, you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."
~Supernatural~
The man tapped the trunk with his cane.
"Check in there."
Dean opened it, and I froze when I saw a red clown wig.
We stilled, and Dean shoved me behind him.
"You?"
He dropped his cane, throwing off the sunglasses.
It waved, disappearing from view.
Dean struggled with the door out of the trailer.
A knife flew past his head, burying itself in the door.
The second stopped an inch away from my throat.
"All right!"
He managed to get the door open, tumbling out with me in tow.
Sam caught up with us.
"Hey! So, Cooper thinks I'm a peeping tom, but it's not him."
"Yeah, so I gathered," Dean eyed the trailer warily.
"It's the blind guy, he's here somewhere."
"Well, did you get the-"
Dean interrupted him. "The brass blades? No, it's been one of those days."
"I got an idea. Come on."
We followed Sam to the funhouse.
A door slammed shut between us.
It would not open.
"Sam!"
'Dean!" He called back. "Dean, find the maze, okay?"
We moved forward carefully.
"Hey! Where is it?"
"I don't know," Dean was frustrated.
"I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?"
Right on cue, two knives pinned us to the wall.
"Sam!"
Sam pulled a pipe all the way off, stalking forward slowly.
A knife flew at his head, and he ducked reflexively.
"Dean, where is it?"
"I don't know." He reached up and pulled a lever.
Steam poured from the pipe organ, giving a vague shape to the invisible attacker.
We were trapped.
It advanced, then stopped abruptly as a pipe cut through his chest.
A pipe held by a tan-sleeved arm.
Castiel let go of the bloody clothes.
We crashed to the ground.
~Supernatural~
Dean was working on the Impala again, and Sam paced nearby.
"You were right," Sam said quietly.
Dean slid out from under the car.
"About what?"
"About me and Dad." Sam inhaled deeply.
"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."
He waited a beat.
"I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not alright. Not at all. But neither are you. That much I know."
Sam paused.
"I'll let you get back to work."
He strode away, disappearing from view in minutes.
I followed more slowly, freezing when I heard the sound of smashing glass.
I ran back to Dean.
He was slamming a crowbar into the trunk of the Impala.
I caught his out flung arm, flinching back from the sheer anger in Dean's expression.
I did not let go.
"Dean, enough." I hung on tightly.
You're scaring Sam. You're scaring me. Please. Stop it."
His lip trembled as he stared after where Sam had gone.
The crowbar clattered to the ground.
I waited, summoning up my courage, and put an arm lightly around his shoulder.
Dean jerked in surprise, but did not shake me off.
He let me pull him away from the car, nearer to Bobby's house.
"It's going to be fine, Dean," I whispered. "Just hang on."
John's last words echoed through my head.
Take care of my boys, you hear me?
I would.
I'd made a promise, after all.