#I need a drink I almost wrote ''Bobby'' 2 different times o(-(

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I saw someone saying "Imagine if they found the Eggs, but they could only save 3" and I'm so obsessed with that thought.

Richarlyson, Chayanne, Ramon, Dapper, Tallulah, Leo, and Pomme... Those are the last Eggs left. Imagine only being able to save 3.

[waywardaardvark79]

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2, Episode 2: Everybody Loves a Clown

Summary: Y/N Singer joins Sam and Dean on the road. A rewrite starring you. 

Pairing: Dean X Reader, Sam X Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Show level violence, language

Word Count: 18,709 (I’m so sorry)

A/N: Sorry for the delay. I’m still not sure on a set schedule for this. I’ll try to get the next episode out as soon as I can. Tags open. 

You focused your eyes on a single glowing ember that seemed to float effortlessly through the night air. You tried your best to follow its path, a loud popping sound making you lose your focus, your attention falling back on the pyre and the burning body in front of you. John's body.

It was a moonless night, the only light coming from the pyre, as you stood in tense silence between Sam and Dean. You glanced over at Dean, who was standing about a foot away from you. He had his hands shoved into his pockets as he stared into the flames. His stance was ridgid, the expression on his face was devoid of any emotion.

His indifference would appear cold to anyone that didn't know him, but you knew that he was doing everything in his power to hold it all together. The truth was in his eyes. They told the story that the rest of his body tried to keep hidden. Swirling inside those green irises were a multitude of emotions. Despair, melancholy, guilt, self loathing, to name a few. They were the eyes of a broken man, the eyes of a man that was lost with no idea how or if he could ever get back to the person he was before.

You turned your attention back to the pyre, your own guilt eating you up inside. You couldn't help but blame yourself for John's demise. If he had only made a deal to bring Dean back and not you too, he'd still be here. Sure, the Colt and the bullet would be gone, but John would still be alive. Sam and Dean would still have their father, and you knew that in time they would both get over losing you. After all, John would be a lot more useful in the fight ahead.

You could hear Sam shifting back and forth on his feet, and you looked in his direction, your heart breaking at the sight of him. He was near tears, fidgeting uncomfortably as he stared at the pyre. You reached out for his hand, and laced your fingers with his, the pair of gloves you snatched from the hospital squeaking a little.

You looked down at your hand that was joined with his and noticed that Sam seemed to be holding onto you for dear life. Your hand looked so small in his. It reminded you of how a child's hand would look clutching onto their parent's hand, your mind quickly changing when you looked Sam in the eyes.

Despite his height and towering build, he looked so small in that moment. His shoulders were slumped forward, his eyes red rimmed and glassy as he did his best to hold back his tears. He looked like a heart broken little boy, and you wanted nothing more than to protect him and take his pain away.

You steeled your shoulders, and gave his hand a gentle squeeze as you turned your attention back to the pyre. You knew that you had to push down everything that you were feeling. You had to lock it all up somewhere deep inside of yourself because your feelings didn't matter right now. You knew that the only thing you could focus on was getting the two of them through this the best you could.

"Before he...before, did he say anything to you? About anything?" Sam quietly asked, breaking the silence.

"No. Nothing." Dean replied, not looking at Sam, his attention still on the pyre, you giving Sam's hand another squeeze when he let out a small, defeated breath.

The three of you had gone back to Bobby's, and you each slipped into a rather monotonous routine. Dean pushed everyone away, always insisting that he was completely fine. You weren't shocked by his behavior. You knew him too well, and you knew that he would be looking for anything to use as a distraction.

He threw himself into fixing the Impala, and the two of you generally avoided each other, only meeting up late at night to drink yourselves into oblivion. You knew that he needed his space, and you were more than happy to give it to him, only going to him when he sought you out.

You were sure that this type of interaction would be problematic for most people, but you completely understood. You knew that nothing you said to him would change anything, or make him feel better. So, why talk about something that you can't change? Dean never was the one to talk everything out, to lay everything out on the table. He held his cards close, and his walls were high. You couldn't blame him. You were the same way, both of you choosing to bottle everything up and pretend that everything was okay.

It would work for a little while, but you knew that he was a ticking time bomb. Sooner or later something would set him off, and all of that pent up emotion would come pouring out. So, you did the only thing you knew to do. You kept your distance, and just hoped that you would be able to put him back together when he broke.

When you weren't sleeping off yet another hangover you were with Sam. You listened to him vent every frustration he had without interruption. You offered whatever advice you could, and tried your best to convince him to just let Dean be. Sam was just wired differently than the two of you though. He needed to discuss every little detail, and it was almost as if he took offense to the fact that you and Dean didn't.

You and Bobby continued to tiptoe around each other. The awkwardness and unanswered questions of the fight the two of you had before the accident reared its ugly head now that you were back among the living.

There were no cross words spoken between the two of you. In fact, there were no words at all. You were afraid that if you tried to have a conversation with him you would blow up. You had so many questions, and you knew that he had answers. But, everytime you thought about approaching him you stopped yourself.  You were afraid that you wouldn't be able to control yourself. You were so incredibly angry with him, and you felt so betrayed.

It wasn't only Bobby that you were angry with. You were just angry in general. There wasn't one specific thing. It was everything honestly, and you found it growing worse as the days went on. You found yourself losing the battle to push it all down, and you were afraid that the next little thing was going to end up setting you off.

You had managed to distance yourself from everyone for most of the day. The house was now relatively quiet. Bobby had gone to bed hours ago, Sam was upstairs going through some of John's things, and Dean was still outside. You were sitting on the couch, your journal open in your lap, with the TV on in the background for noise.

You flipped through the pages until you came upon a blank one. You had been trying to remember what happened at the hospital, but you could never come up with a full sequence of events. It was all flashes, a giant jigsaw puzzle with too many missing pieces.

You thought that writing down what you could remember might help bring everything back, but you didn't know where to start. The gaps were too large and the things you could remember made no sense to you. Still, you knew that you had to try.

You could remember feeling like you were somewhere that you shouldn't be. Different colors started to flash through your mind, and you tried to clear all of your other thoughts to focus on them.

At first there was green. You scribbled the color down in your journal, your pen absentmindedly underlining the color as you thought back on what it could mean. You jotted down the word "outside" before following after it with a question mark. You couldn't be sure, but you had a gut feeling that the place you had been was somewhere outdoors, rationalizing that the flashes of green you kept seeing could be that of trees.

You looked down at the paper, the end of your pen held loosely between your teeth as the next color flashed through your mind. B-L-U-E, you wrote, carefully printing each letter. You found yourself tracing over each letter as you struggled with the memories that color brought.

Blue was a contradiction. One moment you found yourself completely uncomfortable, the color bringing out feelings of fear and dread. However, a split second later everything you were feeling about that color completely shifted. Blue no longer made you fearful or filled you with dread. No, instead you felt comfort, relief, thankful even. You couldn't understand the drastic change. Nothing you could come up with made any sense. Still, you wrote down the different feelings under the word blue before moving onto the next color.

You had no trouble remembering the next color. You also understood all of the feelings attached to it, and didn't think you could forget them even if you wanted to. Y-E-L-L-O-W, you wrote, underlining it harshly.

You could still see those yellow eyes clear as day. You could remember the way they raked over you and the way they lit up with glee whenever he spoke to you. He always did seem to get some kind of sick enjoyment out of toying with you.

You could still remember the way the corner of his mouth turned up when he told you that John had to sweeten the pot for you, and you still got a shiver down your spine when you thought about those two words he said to you.

No choice. Those two words were running through your head on an endless loop. He told you that you had no choice. You had no choice about trying to save John, and no choice about your destiny. He made sure to stress that, those yellow eyes of his alight with pleasure as he placed his hand on your forehead.

Those two words flipped a switch in you. The anger that you had been trying so hard to contain went from a dull simmer to a raging boil just like that. Your heart was pounding in your chest, one fist clenched by your side while the other hand thumped your pen frantically against the paper in front of you. You could swear that you could feel you body getting hot from the inside, the heat seeming to start in your middle before radiating throughout the rest of you. You were afraid that there was nothing you could do to contain it now. The only thing you could do was  pray that no one crossed your path.

Sam could feel his eyes growing tired, the small screen he had been staring at starting to blur. He had been trying to crack John's voicemail code for hours, but so far he had come up empty. Sam flipped the phone closed and tossed it on the bed beside him before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He laid there for a moment and listened to the sounds of the house settling around him.

Those sounds brought back a flood of childhood memories and a strange sense of comfort. He felt a small smile slide across his face and thought that it was funny how the creaks of an old house could bring someone joy. He couldn't help but go down memory lane.

He always did feel safe there at Bobby's when he was a child. It wasn't that he didn't feel safe with John or Dean, but Bobby had an actual home. He had always been a bit jealous of you for that. Sure, you were no stranger to motel living, but you always had a home to come back to. You had your own room, and possessions that weren't hand me downs. You had some sense of normalcy, a routine, and he could remember how badly he craved that, part of him still did.

Sam thought back to the times the two of you spent there as children. He could remember playing made up games with you while Dean huffed and puffed about how annoying the two of you were. He could remember running up and down the stairs with you, the two of you always careful to avoid the step that creaked loudly when the two of you were sneaking around doing something that you shouldn't have been, and he could remember that the two of you always insisted on sharing a bed.

He chuckled to himself at some of the things the two of you used to talk about late at night. You had both made so many plans for when you were adults, vowing of course to do them together. That's what best friends did after all. They stuck together through everything. He could also remember the day all of those childhood plans changed.

The two of you were quite a bit older then, around sixteen, and it had been quite some time since the two of you had seen each other in person. John kept both Sam and Dean on the road with him, neither one of them needing Bobby to look after them anymore. Still, the two of you kept in close contact, calling each other whenever you could.

Sam was sitting in yet another dump of a motel room, a lore book open in front of him. John and Dean had left not long ago to start chasing down leads. Sam flipped through a couple of pages before closing the book. He drummed his fingers on the table while he stared at the book, knowing that he should be doing what his father asked of him. Instead, he pushed back his chair from the table and made his way to the beat up motel phone on the nightstand.

He picked up the receiver and held it between his ear and shoulder while he dialed your number. He made sure to only let the phone ring twice. It was the signal the two of you had always used. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed, grabbing the phone from the nightstand and placing it in his lap as he anxiously waited for you to call back. He was tempted to try you again and found himself reaching quickly for the receiver when it finally started to ring.

"Sammy!" you shouted before he even had a chance to say hello.

"Y/N? Everything okay?" Sam asked, worried that something was wrong.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. Better than fine really. You shoulda seen it, Sammy. It was so fuckin' awesome." you excitedly rambled, Sam chuckling on the other end.

"Yeah, what's that?" Sam asked, just hearing your voice bringing a smile to his face.

"So, Uncle Rufus shows up out of nowhere a few days ago, and he starts telling Dad about this case he's been working. Long story short, he ends up talking Dad into helping out, and they let me go." you said, Sam interrupting.

"How long did it take you to pull that off?" he asked, knowing just how overprotective Bobby was.

"Really, Sam?" you scoffed as you cocked your head to the side to hold the phone with your shoulder, your hands busy unpacking. "You know I've been working whenever I can."

"Yeah." Sam breathed out, his fingers fiddling with the phone cord. "So, what was the case?"

"Ghouls." you excitedly replied, sucking in a deep breath before quickly speaking again. "I wish you coulda seen it. I had this one head shot that was right out of a fuckin' Romero movie. It was awesome. You gotta tell your dumbass brother that I just took the lead away from him."

"His lead?" Sam asked, confused as to what the two of you were competing about now.

"Yeah, when you guys stopped by a few months ago we kinda got into an argument." you explained, Sam laughing under his breath.

"What a surprise." he sarcastically said, you and Dean couldn't seem to be in the same room for five minutes without arguing about something.

"Yeah, who woulda guessed, right? Anyway, we kinda got this...uh, little friendly competition going, and this hunt just put me in the lead. Just rub it in a little for me, would ya? Make sure you tell him that I'm just gonna keep kickin' his ass." you said, Sam not saying anything. "Sam? You still there?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll, uh...I'll be sure to tell him." Sam said, you immediately picking up the shift in his mood.

"Hey, you alright?" you asked, knowing that he had something on his mind.

"Fine." Sam replied, not convincing you at all.

"Sam." you said, pausing a moment, hoping that he would speak up.

"Really Y/N, I'm fine. I'm just tired." he lied as he looked down at his duffel bag. "I just needed a little break."

"John got you doing research?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer.

"Yeah." Sam answered as he pulled a notebook from the bottom of his duffel.

"What've ya got so far?" you asked, still thinking that there was something more on his mind. "Sam?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, not sure yet. Dad and Dean are lookin' at the body now." Sam said as he flipped open the notebook and looked at some of the college brochures he had tucked inside, the line silent for a few minutes as you waited for him to speak again. "Hey Y/N, you ever think about..." Sam started, going quiet again before finishing his sentence.

"Ever think about what?" you asked, wanting him to continue.

"It's nothing, nevermind." Sam breathed out.

"Sam." you said, wanting to know what was bothering him.

"You ever think about getting out? About....I don't know, having a normal life?" Sam finally asked, you pausing a moment as you tried to think of what to say.

"Define normal." you said, Sam sighing at your less than serious approach. "Fine. When I was younger I thought about it. Remember how we'd talk about all the shit we were gonna do? But, I...I don't know, Sam. It's just not realistic anymore, you know? I mean, do you really think either one of us could just be some normal fuckin' persin with everything we know? Besides, I don't really think I'm cut out for it. I mean, could you really see me living some normal, picket fence, nine to five life?"

"Maybe you're right. I just....I." Sam said, stopping short.

"Sam, it shouldn't matter what I say. Is that what you want? Do you want out?" you asked, Sam sighing on the other end.

"I...I don't know. Sometimes." he said, pausing a moment. "I don't think I can do this for the rest of my life, but-" he tried, you interrupting.

"But nothing. If you don't want to hunt, Sam, don't hunt." you said as if it was the most simple simple thing ever.

"Yeah, cause that's gonna go over great with Dad." Sam fired back, you letting out a slow breath.

"Look, Sam...nobody can tell you what to do with your life but you. I can't tell you, neither can Dean or JOHN. It's your life, and it's your fuckin' choice. I know that there isn't anything you can do about it right now, but if you still want out when the times comes then there is nothing anyone can do about that but you." you said, your tone a little harsher than you meant it.

"Yeah, I better get back to this. I'm sure they won't be gone much longer." Sam said, making you feel guilty.

"I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for it to come out like that. I just...I want you to be happy, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta think about yourself, and not worry about what everyone else is gonna think." you said, Sam quiet for a moment.

"I think I'm just frustrated. It was just...just a crazy idea. I didn't mean anything by it." Sam said, you knowing that there was no truth behind it.

"Yeah, okay. But, Sam, if it wasn't just a crazy idea...I hope you know that I would be there for you. No matter what you decide, I'll always be here. You can't get rid of me, Sammy." you said, wanting to end things on a better note.

"I don't think I could get rid of you if I tried." Sam teased, chuckling to himself.

"You're God damn right about that. Call me back if you need anything." you said, pausing a moment, trying to think of something to say to make him laugh. "I mean, we both know that I'm the superior researcher." you added, Sam barking out a laugh.

"Sure you didn't hit your head on that hunt?" he asked, a smile sliding onto your face. "I'll call you soon."

"You better." you said, not wanting to get off of the phone with him, but knowing that he had things to do. "Bye, Sammy."

"Bye, Y/N" Sam said, feeling the same way you did, quickly hanging up the phone before either of you could say anything else.

Sam looked down at the brochures in his lap and quickly placed them back in the notebook before shoving the notebook to the bottom of his bag, making sure that it was completely hidden under his clothes. Sam knew that there was no point in bringing them up to you. You had more or less made up your mind about what your life was going to be, but part of him still hoped that maybe one day you would change it.

Sam always knew that he didn't want to live that sort of life. He always yearned for something normal, something safe. He knew that his father would never leave the life. He was in far too deep, far too obsessed with his revenge mission. He had no illusions that his brother would ever leave either. Dean was following directly in John's footsteps.

You were his last hope. The two of you had always done everything together for as far back as he could remember, and the conversation that the two of you just had left a bad taste in his mouth. As bad as he wanted to start a new, normal life, he didn't want to do it alone. He wanted you with him, but deep down he knew that it just wasn't going to happen.

You were made for that life. It was in your blood, and he knew that you'd never leave it behind. Sam knew that he would be the one doing the leaving, and he knew that when the time came he would have to do it without looking back.

Sam swung his legs off the side of the bed, and grabbed John's phone before standing up. He tossed the phone into his bag before walking to the door and stepping out into the hall. He looked at your closed bedroom door and thought about just walking by, but with everything that had been going on he honestly didn't want to be alone.

He stopped in front of your door and raised his fist to knock, trying to be as quiet as he could, "Y/N." he softly said, waiting for you to respond.

After a few moments Sam cracked open your bedroom door and peaked inside, "Y/N, it's me." he said before noticing that you weren't there.

He eased the door shut before heading for the stairs. He tried to be as quiet as he could, taking extra precaution to avoid the squeaky step. He could hear the TV and hoped that you and Dean were still up.

"Guys?" he called out before he made it into the living room.

Once again Sam got no response, and simply decided that the two of you must have fallen asleep with the TV on. That changed when he saw you sitting on the end of the couch. He noticed that you were staring blankly ahead, one of your legs bouncing up and down as if you were anxious.

"Y/N?" Sam called out, coming to a stop by the arm of the couch. "Y/N?" he tried again when he didn't get an answer.

Sam watched as you slowly turned your head and looked in his direction. He couldn't quite read the expression on your face, but he found himself growing a little uneasy. You looked so on edge, and he quickly took a step back.

"Hey..." he started, pausing a moment, watching you closely. "Have you...uh, have you seen Dean?"

"I'm not your brother's fuckin' keeper." you spat, Sam instantly shrinking back.

"I'm...I didn't mean-" Sam started, you quickly cutting him off.

"Fuck." you breathed out, running your hands through your hair. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean to...You didn't deserve that. I just...I'm..." you said, trailing off.

"No, I get it. Everything is a little tense. It's okay." Sam said, his forgiving attitude making you more angry.

"God dam it. No, it's not. Nothing about any of this is okay, Sam. I don't just get free reign to be an asshole!" you snapped, closing your journal and tossing it aside. "You should just-" you tried to say, Sam interrupting.

"Since when is being an asshole out of the ordinary for you?" Sam asked, trying to lighten the mood, rendering you speechless for a moment.

"Can't you just get pissed off and yell at me like a fuckin' normal person?" you asked, Sam sighing as he shook his head.

"What would that solve?" he asked as he took a seat next to you.

"I don't know. Hell, it might make you feel better. You know, giving me a taste of my own medicine." you said, trying your best to calm down.

"Does that really work for you? Do you ever really feel better?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"Sometimes." you said, leaning your head back against the couch.

"Look, you were obviously in the middle of something, and I interrupted." Sam said, you scoffing.

"Don't make excuses for me, Sam. Call it like it really is. I'm a fucking asshole." you said, looking over to him.

"Like it is, huh?" Sam asked, you nodding. "Alright, I think that you are doing everything in your power to avoid dealing with things. Dean, too. You are both so in your heads, and neither one of you will do what needs to be done."

"Yeah, what's that? What need to be done?" you asked, a little defensively.

"We need to TALK about things! We need to sit down and try to put all of the pieces together." Sam said, you rolling your eyes as you let out an annoyed huff.

"Don't go all after school special on me, Sam. Some big group therapy session isn't going to change a God damn thing." you shot back, Sam beginning to get frustrated.

"Yeah, cause sitting here doing what we've been doing is really helping." Sam argued, both of you staring each other down.

"What do you want to hear, Sam? What the fuck do you want me to say?" you asked, trying to keep your temper under control.

"ANYTHING, Y/N! Anything would be better than what you're doing now." Sam shot back.

"Fine." you said, keeping eye contact with him. "I don't know what to fucking do, Sam. I can't even fathom where to start. Nothing I do or say is gonna change what happened. I can't fix any of this. I can't help you. I sure as fuck can't help Dean. I can't even help my fuckin' self. I don't know what happened to me, Sam. I can't remember, but I know that this is my fault. I know that I am the one to blame for all of this."

"What does that mean? What's your fault?" Sam asked, his expression softening.

"Everything, Sam." you said, your voice breaking. "If I wasn't here...John would be."

"You don't know that." Sam said, the sound of a door opening and closing stopping him from saying more.

The two of you listened as Dean made his way to the stairs. He didn't acknowledge you or Sam, his heavy steps on the stairs intermingling with the low mumble of the television. You and Sam sat there in silence as the sounds of Dean's footsteps started to fade.

"Y/N, we need to talk about this, and Dean does too." Sam finally said as you stood up from the couch.

"One existential crisis at a time, Sam. We'll talk tomorrow." you said, completely drained.

Sam studied you for a moment before slowly nodding his head, "Yeah." he sighed, knowing that you would make up an excuse to avoid it.

"Get some sleep, Sam." you said before leaving the room and heading towards the kitchen.

You were seated at the kitchen table, one finger lazily circling the condensation ring left behind by your now empty beer. You made it a point to only drink one, knowing that Dean would want the rest of the six pack. Sam had gone to bed about thirty minutes ago, and you finally forced yourself to stand up from your spot.

You made your way back to the couch and plopped down on the middle cushion, grabbing one of the worn throw pillows and tucking it under your head as you pulled your legs up and laid down. You grabbed the remote from the coffee table and turned the volume down a little on the television, keeping it barely audible. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on the infomercial dialogue, trying your best to clear your mind of everything. You finally managed to fall asleep only to be pulled awake a couple of hours later by the sound of someone rummaging around in the kitchen.

You quickly sat up and found yourself searching for a weapon in your half asleep state. A mumbled string of curse words set your mind at ease and you stopped your search, recognizing the voice and realizing that you were in no danger. You slowly stood up and made your way towards the kitchen, stopping to lean against the doorframe once you got there.

"Top shelf...towards the right." you said, Dean's back to you as he searched the cabinets.

You knew what he was searching for, the empty beer bottles on the table letting you know that he was after something a little stronger. You watched as he found the bottle and turned so that he was leaning against the counter, facing you. He unscrewed the cap and tossed it to the side, sending it sliding down the counter before raising the bottle to his lips.

You couldn't help but think back to the night that he showed up to tell you about Sam. The positions the two of you were in mirrored the ones from that night, but so many things had changed since then. The two of you almost looked like completely different people, both of you seeing more things in that short amount of time than most people would see in an entire lifetime.

"At least I don't have a gun this time." you said, echoing back to that night, hoping that Dean would know what you were talking about.

"Or a douche bag hiding out in your room." Dean shot back, referring to Jake, the corner of your mouth turning up.

"Nah, he's just hiding out in the kitchen this time." you said, Dean huffing out a laugh.

The two of you slipped into silence, neither one of you sure of what to say next. You could feel his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to look up and meet them. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, his eyes darting to the bottle in his hand.

"You, uh, you should try to get some rest." you finally said before turning to head back to the couch, Dean watching you go without saying anything.

You had tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, your legs drawn up underneath you, your elbow on the armrest of the couch, your head cradled in your hand. You could still hear Dean in the kitchen. It almost sounded like he was pacing back and forth, his footsteps growing louder before fading away, the process continuing over and over. You thought about calling out to him, the sudden stopping of his footsteps causing you to stop and listen. Suddenly, his footsteps started back up, and you could tell that he was headed in your direction.

"Want some company?" Dean asked as he walked into the room, raising the bottle in his hand and giving it a little shake.

"I never say no to a drink." you replied as you looked up at him, Dean looking somewhat relieved as he made his way to the couch.

"You and Sam figure anything out?" Dean asked, nodding his heads towards your journal on the coffee table before passing you the bottle.

"No." you said, taking the bottle from him and raising it to your lips, Dean leaning his head back against the couch.

"He grill you too?" he asked, not looking at you.

"I deserved worse than I got." you said before taking one more drink, Dean holding out his hand for the bottle. "I fuckin' snapped, and I just wanted him to get mad. I wanted him to fuckin' yell at me, but all he wanted to do was-"

"Talk." Dean finished for you, you giving him a small nod. "Yeah, I got that speech too. He...he just..."

"That's just Sam." you said, reaching for the bottle. "I gotta say...this way is a little easier." you added, Dean giving you a half smile.

"Drown it out, right?" he sighed, turning to look at you.

"Drown it out." you echoed, the two of you sharing a look before slipping into silence, passing the bottle back and forth.

"Do you...do you remember anything?" Dean finally asked, you looking away from him.

"Not really. I mean, not anything fuckin' useful. I, uh, I...I remember looking for you, and I remember being fuckin' pissed." you said, not able to tell him about the conversation you had with Yellow Eyes.

"Yeah, I remember lookin' for you too, and the, uh, light." Dean said, pausing a moment. "Where'd you go?"

"I...I don't know." you breathed out, Dean nodding slowly. "I keep tryin' to make fuckin' sense of it, but-"

"You can't." Dean finished for you. "I can't either." he added, a distant, defeated look in his eyes.

"Hey." you said, placing a gloved hand just above his knee. "We'll figure it out. Everything...everything is gonna be okay."

"Yeah." Dean said, giving you a sad smile, not believing a word you said, and you couldn't blame him. "Guess we should call it a night."

"Yeah, I'll, uh, I'll take the couch tonight. You take my bed." you said, Bobby making it abundantly clear that there would be no bed sharing.

"No, you take it." Dean said as he propped his feet up on the coffee table, you rolling your eyes. "Couch is fine with me. You drink enough, you can sleep anywhere."

"No point in arguing, De. You're not gonna win." you said, Dean looking at you as he slouched down onto the couch, his head lying back against the back.

"I'm not movin'." he said, closing his eyes. "But, you know, it's technically not a bed, so..." he added, trailing off as he raised his arm, silently inviting you over.

"Well, since you're gettin' all fuckin' technical on me." you said, scooting over until you were nestled into his side, his arm coming down to wrap around you.

You closed your eyes as you snuggled into his side, the corner of your mouth turning up when you felt him press his lips against the top of your head. You didn't say anything when he lingered, his chest rising as he breathed you in.

"Get some sleep, De." you said, patting his chest, Dean's other hand coming up to rest on yours. "I'll be right here."

You jerked awake, your heart beating wildly in your chest, your breaths short and quick as your eyes darted around the room. You felt Dean shift underneath you, and you tried to match your breathing to his, your hand rising and falling with his chest in a smooth, easy rhythm. You knew that it was just a nightmare, but you also knew that there was no way you would be able to fall back asleep.

You eased yourself out from under Dean's arm, being careful not to wake him, and moved to the edge of the cushion before quickly getting to your feet. You looked over your shoulder at Dean, and stood still for a moment, making sure that he wouldn't wake up. Once you were certain that he wouldn't wake up you grabbed the whiskey bottle from the coffee table and crept from the room.

You had finally made it outside, and allowed yourself to let out of sigh of relief. You had no idea what time it was, but you knew it was early morning. The sky was starting to lighten, the sun beginning to peak over the horizon, setting the sky ablaze with brilliant shades of orange, pink, and red. You couldn't remember the last time you had watched the sunrise. In fact, you weren't entirely sure that you had ever taken the time to actually appreciate it. Honestly, it had never been on your list of priorities and as pretty as it was, you couldn't say that it topped your list now.

There were far too many other things on your mind, and you thought that if you just kept walking you could leave them all behind. So, that's what you did. You walked. You walked up and down the haphazard rows of broken down vehicles, your fingers wrapped loosely around the neck of the whiskey bottle that dangled at your side. But, no matter how many trips you took up and down the rows the thoughts that you were so desperate to outrun always seemed to be just one step behind. They were still there, taunting you, letting you know that no amount of running would suffice.

You stopped in your tracks and looked over at the beaten up, old Lincoln on your left. You curled your fingers tighter around the neck of the whiskey bottle and climbed up onto the hood, leaving your legs dangling freely over the edge. If running wasn't going to work, you had the next best thing. After all, drowning everything out would be much easier. There was far less work in that solution. Just as you raised the bottle to your lips you heard the crunch of footsteps and turned to see Bobby walking towards you.

"Glad you finally stopped. I didn't know how much longer I could keep up." Bobby said, stopping a couple of feet in front of the car.

"You've been following me the whole time?" you asked, a little shocked that you didn't pick up on his presence, Bobby giving you a subtle nod.

"Maybe if you laid off the sauce you woulda known." he said, gesturing towards the bottle.

"Yeah...maybe, but where's the fun in that?" you asked before taking a drink.

"Doesn't look like fun to me, Kid." Bobby said, coming to lean against the hood next to you.

"Yeah, what's it look like then?" you asked, a little defensively, Bobby pausing a moment before turning to look at you.

"It looks like you're runnin', or tryin' to at least." Bobby said, causing you to scoff. "I know you're going through it right now, Kid."

"You read minds now, too?" you asked, anger starting to boil up again.

"No." Bobby said, trying to choose his next words carefully. "But, there ain't many things you can hide from me."

"Yeah, you're good enough at that for the both of us." you snapped back, Bobby's posture going ridgid, "What? Nothin' to say now?"

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." Bobby said, his response exasperating you.

"From what?!" you yelled, Bobby looking over at you.

"From everything." he returned. "That was my job, and I did what I had to do."

"That doesn't fuckin' tell me anything." you snapped, your grip on the bottle tightening.

"I know." Bobby said, looking down at his feet. "But, that's why I'm out here, Kid. You ask, and I'll tell you what I know."

"Just like that?" you asked, Bobby looking back at you.

"Just like that." he echoed, trying to prepare himself for your questions, watching as you looked away from him, the bottle still clutched tightly in your hand.

"Who...who were they?" you quietly asked. "My parents."

"Your father was a hunter, a good one. James McKenzie. I worked a few cases with him in the early days. I met him though Rufus." Bobby explained, you still looking away from him.

"And her?" you asked, Bobby taking a deep breath.

"I don't know. You gotta understand, Kid...I didn't keep in regular contact with him. He never mentioned anyone, not even the night he showed up with you. I tried to track down what I could. Rufus did too, but we never got anything solid. It was all just through the grapevine bullshit. Some said that she was in the life too, and...and-" Bobby tried, you cutting him off.

"And, it ended like it fuckin' always does. Bloody." you said, Bobby remaining quiet for a moment.

"I can't say for sure." Bobby sighed. "I looked for him too, but I couldn't find anything. It was like he just...disappeared. I kept up the search until..."

"Until?" you asked, finally looking over at him.

"Until it got too dangerous to continue it. You were about four, maybe five." Bobby started, seeming reluctant to continue. "You...you just...you knew things, Kid, and it was stuff you had no way of knowin'. "he said, waiting for you to respond.

"What the fuck does that mean?" you asked, your heart starting to pound.

"It means that...it means..." Bobby started, trailing off before he could finish his thought.

"It means what? What the fuck does it mean?!" you yelled, throwing the bottle, watching as it shattered against a car across from you.

"You would pick up on things, say things that you couldn't know. Things...things that I was thinking, and then there were the dreams." Bobby said, you getting up from the car to pace.

"Dreams?" you asked, pacing back and forth.

"Doctors said they were just night terrors, but they weren't.""Bobby said, his answer rather vague.

"How did you know?" you asked, still pacing.

"I just did." he said, you whipping to face him.

"So, not only did you lie about who I was, but you lied about what I could do, too?" you asked, speaking again before Bobby had a chance to answer. "And, you can't say that you never had the chance to tell me. I called you. I called you, and I told you that I thought something was wrong with me. And, what did you do? You fuckin' lied! You told me that I was fine!"

"You know that people don't always take kindly to what they don't understand. Especially in this business. They would have shot first and asked questions later." Bobby said, you starting to pace again.

"So, you're telling me that you kept everything quiet 'cause you didn't want some hunter findin' out? Scared they were gonna shoot the freak?!" you yelled, Bobby shaking his head.

"Kid, you're not a-" he started, you quickly cutting him off.

"What? Not a freak? Not some sort of fuckin' monster?!" you asked, pulling the glove off of your right hand, the ball of light quickly forming before you sent it crashing into the car across from you, the glass shattering and the metal denting. "Does that look fuckin' human to you?"

"A parent does what they have to do to protect their child." Bobby said, you shaking your head.

"I'm not your kid! Don't you see that everyone would have been a lot better off if you would've just thrown me to the fuckin' wolves all those years ago? I mean, I've been fucking shit up since I was born." you said, a quizzical expression on Bobby's face.

"What the hell are you talking about?" he asked, frustration seeping through.

"It's my fault that my parents are gone. And, who's to say that there's not a trail after them? I mean, you said so yourself. You did what you had to do to keep me safe, to keep everything under wraps." you said, Bobby looking at you a moment before speaking.

"None of that's on you." he said, you huffing out an annoyed laugh.

"It is. I may not have known, but it is. And, then there's John." you said, fixing Bobby with a cold stare.

"John?" Bobby asked, you nodding.

"I don't remember everything that happened, but I remember that. He's gone because of me. If he wouldn't have made the deal for me, then he'd still be here. So, how can you stand there and tell me that everyone is better off with me here?" you asked, your voice cracking a little.

"You can't blame yourself for John's decision. He knew what he was doing, and you don't get to make decisions for everyone else." Bobby said, you interrupting.

"I'm not-" you tried to say, Bobby cutting you off.

"No, you're gonna listen. You say that everyone would be better off if you were gone, but that's bullshit. You think those boys would be better off?" Bobby started, you quickly cutting him off.

"Of course I do! They lost their fucking father because of me!!" you yelled, Bobby shaking his head.

"Family doesn't end with blood, Kid. Those boys would be lost without you, and so would I. I...I've done a lot of things that I'm not proud of, things that haunt me to this day, but you are the one thing that I'm proud of. Hell, you're the reason I'm still going, Kid, and I wouldn't change a thing. I'd do all of it over again, the same exact way if it meant that you were safe."

"But-" you tried to say, Bobby speaking up before you could say anything.

"You listen to me. I may not have made ya, but you're mine. I'm not going anywhere. A parent is there for the good, the bad, and the ugly. And, right now it's pretty God damn ugly, but we're gonna figure all this out, together. Now, you can be mad all you want. I can understand that, but you don't get to check out on me. And, you ain't gettin' rid of me. Cause even if you don't want me to, I'm gonna be there. Ya' got that, Kid?" Bobby asked, you looking at him with teary eyes, waiting a minute before speaking.

"Yeah, I, uh, I got it." you said, trying not to cry, Bobby closing the gap between the two of you to pull you into a hug.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Kid." he said, holding you tightly. "I promise."

Dean was back underneath the Impala, only his legs visible from beneath the frame. He spent all of his time working on it, and although it was little more than a rusted frame, it looked considerably less crushed than it did.

"How's the car coming along?" Sam asked as he approached.

"Slow." Dean said, his reply short.

"Yeah? Need any help?" Sam asked, Dean dropping something heavily.

"What, you under a hood? I'll pass. I'd rather have Singer under here." Dean said, Sam pausing a moment before speaking.

"Need anything else, then?" Sam asked, Dean pushing himself out from under the car and getting to his feet.

"Stop it, Sam." Dean warned, Sam looking a little taken aback.

"Stop what?" Sam asked, Dean shaking his head.

"Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise." Dean said, Sam slowly nodding, trying to think of a way to make his point without starting a fight. 

"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, Dean turning to face him.

"You know what? You're right. Come here. I'm gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug, and maybe even slow dance. I swear, you're a bigger girl than Singer. She's not out here pushin' me." Dean said, Sam's frustration starting to show.

"Don't patronize 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, Dean shaking his head.

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

"Say something, all right. Hell, say anything. Neither one of you have ever had a problem running your mouths before, but now I can't get either one of you to say more than a couple of words. Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car." Sam ranted, his frustration seeping through.

"Revenge, huh?" Dean asked, Sam nodding.

"Yeah." Sam replied, hoping that he'd gotten through to him.

"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's 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? I can work on the car." Dean said, crouching down by the car to get back to work.

"Well, we've got something, all right?" Sam said, pulling out a cell phone. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of Dad's old phones. Took me awhile, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this." Sam said as he held out the phone to Dean, who stood and took it reluctantly.

"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn. You know I can help you. Call me." the voicemail said, Sam looking to Dean.

"That message is four months old." Sam said, Dean's interests piqued.

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

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, Sam shaking his head.

"No. But, I ran a trace on her phone number, and I got an address." Sam said, Dean nodding.

"Go tell Singer, and ask Bobby if we can  use one of his cars." Dean instructed, Sam quickly turning to go before Dean could change his mind.

"This is humiliating. I feel like a fuckin' soccer mom!" Dean exclaimed as the three of you got out of the beat up, poorly maintained minivan that was parked in front of the bar Ellen owned, The Roadhouse.

"It's the only car Bobby had running." Sam said as he looked around the rather empty parking lot. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"So, you know these people?" Dean asked, glancing over at you.

"Yeah, haven't seen 'em in a long time though." you said, adjusting your gun, Dean turning to Sam.

"Hey. You bring the, uh..." he started to ask, Sam nodding.

"Of course." he said, tossing something to Dean before opening the door to go inside.

The Roadhouse was quiet with the exception of a fly buzzing around, "Come on." you said, walking ahead of the two of them, a light bulb suddenly blowing, leaving the bar a little darker than it was.

The three of you came upon a passed out man, and Sam looked down at him, "Hey, buddy?" he asked, pausing a moment. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."

"Yeah." Dean said as Sam went into a back room to look around, leaving you and Dean alone, the two of you walking further into the bar.

"Stop." you said, hearing someone behind you, putting your hand out in front of Dean, the two of you side by side.

"Oh God, please let that be a rifle." Dean said, feeling the point of a gun touch his back.

"Maybe they're just real happy to see us." you said, the gun cocking.

"Don't move." a female warned, you thinking that you recognized the voice, glancing over to Dean and giving him a subtle nod.

"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..." Dean said, turning fluidly, grabbing the rifle and cocking it. "That."

You turned just in time to see Dean get punched in the nose, the rifle quickly taken away from him as his hands flew to his nose.

"Easy, Jo." you said, pulling your gun as she pointed the rifle at you.

"I know you?" she asked, the two of you in a standoff.

"Sam! Need some help in here." Dean called out before muttering, "I can't see. Singer, I can't even see."

"I got it handled." you said, Jo taking a step towards you, the rifle now within your reach.

"You sure about that?" Dean asked, still clutching his nose as the back door opened to reveal Sam walking though slowly with both hands on his head, Jo turning her head to look, her finger no longer on the trigger.

"Yeah." you said, grabbing the barrel of the rifle and snatching it from her, Jo looking at you in shock as you passed the gun to Dean.

"Sorry, guys. I can't right now. I'm a...little tied up." Sam said, nodding his head, indicating that there was someone behind him.

"Don't worry, Sammy. We've got it handled." you said before looking over to Dean. "Well, maybe not we. Dean wasn't really much help."

"Sam? Dean? Winchester?" a woman asked, stepping out from behind Sam.

"Yeah." Sam and Dean answered in unison, looking a little puzzled.

"Son of a bitch." she said, looking over to you, your gun still partially raised.

"Mom, you know these people?" Jo asked, looking to her mother.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's boys." she said lowering her gun, laughing. "And, I'm willing to bet that you're Y/N Singer." she said, looking to you.

"That's right." you said, lowering your gun.

"It's been awhile. You've grown up. How's your daddy?" she asked, Sam and Dean watching her closely.

"Still kicking." you said, Sam and Dean looking between you and the woman, the woman turning her attention back to them.

"I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo." she said, Sam and Dean finally relaxing.

"Hey." Jo said, nodding towards her rifle in Dean's hand.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asked, passing her the gun.

"No, she's not." you said, giving Jo a look before heading towards the bar.

"Here you go." Ellen said, passing Dean a small towel filled with ice.

"Thanks. You called our Dad, said you could help. Help with what?" Dean asked, grimacing as he held the towel to his nose.

"Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it." Ellen explained, Dean eyeing her.

"What, was there an article in Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who...who are you? How do you know about all this?" Dean asked, Ellen looking to you.

"You'll have to excuse him." you said, Dean's head whipping to face you, Ellen chuckling.

"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 explained.

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?" Dean asked, still weary of her.

"You'd have to ask him that." Ellen said, you looking down at the bar.

"So, why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asked, getting back on track.

"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 said, stopping when you gave her a look, the realization hitting her. "He didn't send you." she said, Dean looking down before glancing over to you and back to Sam. "He's all right, isn't he?"

"No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess." Sam said, Ellen shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry." she said, giving both boys a sincere look.

"It's okay. We're all right." Dean quickly said, any mention of John making him uncomfortable.

"Really? I know how close you and your dad were." Ellen said, Dean appearing annoyed.

"Ellen." you said, shaking your head, letting her know to drop it.

"Really, lady, I'm fine." he said, Ellen nodding, realizing that it was a sensitive subject.

"So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get." Sam said, Ellen looking between the three of you.

"Well, we can't. But, Ash will." Ellen said, a smile sliding onto your face.

"Who's Ash?" Sam asked, confused.

"Ash!" Ellen yelled, the man that was passed out jerking away, flailing as he sat up.

"What? It closin' time?" he asked, looking around the bar.

"That's Ash?" Sam asked as you laughed to yourself.

"MM-hmm. He's a genius." Jo said, both Sam and Dean looking over to her.

You and Sam were sitting on either side of Ash, Dean standing behind the three of you while Jo poured glasses of water on the other side of the bar. Ash was busy staring at you. You could tell that he was trying to figure out how he knew you, a brown folder being slapped down on the bar making him flinch, but not deterring his focus.

"I don't think we've met." Ash said, extending his hand to you.

"I gotta say...I'm a little offended." you teased, the wheels turning in Ash's mind.

"Don't be offended. There's no way I could forget a face like that, or a..." Ash said, trailing off as his eyes roamed down your body, Dean clearing his throat.

"You sure about that, Sugar?" you asked, Ash's eyes lighting up.

"Y/N? Y/N Singer?" he asked, you giving him a wink.

"In the flesh." you said, Ash smiling brightly.

"Well, God damn! I knew you were somethin' by the sound of your voice, but it just doesn't do you justice." Ash said, Dean rolling his eyes.

"You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean said, Ash turning to face him.

"I like you." Ash said, a smile on his face.

"Thanks." Dean said, Jo shaking her head.

"Just give him a chance." Jo said, you nodding.

"He knows his stuff. He's helped me out a few times." you said, Dean looking at you. "Over the phone." you added, Dean coming to sit next to you, moving his stool so that he was basically on top of you before opening 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 said, Ash pulling out the papers and rifling through them, shaking his head.

"Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this." Ash said, looking up at Dean.

"Our Dad could." Sam said, Ash glancing at him before looking back at the papers.

"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...You ever been struck by lightening? It ain't fun." Ash said, rambling.

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asked, Ash cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, with this...I think so. But, It's gonna take time, uh, give me...fifty one hours." Ash said, getting up to leave.

"Hey, man?" Dean called out, stopping him.

"Yeah." Ash said, turning to face him.

"I, uh, I did the haircut." Dean said, Ash smiling.

"All business up front, party in the back." Ash said, running his hand over his mullet. "Hey Y/N, could you help me with somethin'?"

"Yeah." you said, getting up from your spot, you and Ash walking off as Jo came out from behind the bar.

Dean watched the two of you closely, his brow furrowing as he watched you laugh at something Ash said. Jo made sure to step into his line of sight, giving him a flirty smile as she gestured for him to follow her. Dean took one last look at you before following after her, leaving Sam alone at the bar.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?" Sam asked, spotting something behind the bar.

"It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we-" Ellen said, Sam cutting her off.

"No, no, no, no, the, um, the folder." Sam said, nodding towards the folder.

"Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine, but take a look, if you want." Ellen said, taking the folder from its spot and placing it in front of Sam.

"How did your mom get into this stuff, anyway?" Dean asked, him and Jo sitting by the window.

"From my dad. He was a hunter. He passed away." Jo said, Dean letting out a slow breath.

"I'm sorry." he said, Jo waving it off.

"It was a long time ago. I was just a kid. Sorry to hear about your dad." Jo said, Dean slowly nodding, uncomfortable with the subject.

"Yeah." he said, looking over at you and Ash, Jo following his stare.

"So, I guess you've got fifty one hours to waste. Maybe tonight we should..."she said, trailing off, Dean looking over at her. "What?"

"Nothing, just, uh..."Dean said, looking over at you, Jo nodding.

"Gotcha." she said, watching as he stared at you. "You know, at first I thought you might toss me some cheap pickup line." she said, Dean chuckling. "Most hunters come through that door thinking they can get in my pants with some...pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV." she added, Dean smiling to himself when he remembered you throwing out that exact scenario as a date idea.

"Well...what a bunch of scumbags." Dean said, turning to look at her.

"Not you?" Jo asked, glancing over at you before looking back to Dean.

"Not me." Dean said, giving her a tight lipped smile.

"So, whatcha need?" you asked, Ash stopping to turn and face you.

"Uh, well, I..."Ash said, clearing his throat. "How long are you sticking around?"

"You said you needed fifty one hours, so I'd guess that'd be about it." you said, Ash nodding.

"That's it, huh? Well, that's a damn shame." he said, you raising a brow at him.

"Yeah, why's that?" you asked, Ash wiggling his brows at you causing you to laugh.

"Cause we coulda had a damn good time." Ash said, you smiling before glancing back at Dean, who was talking to Jo. "Don't tell me..." Ash said, looking at Dean.

"Yep." you said, Ash sighing.

"Just my luck." he said, you laughing under your breath. "You know he doesn't look so tough. Maybe I could take him." he joked, you laughing again. "Well, uh, that ever goes south, you know who to call."

"You'll be the first one I call." you said, both you and Ash laughing.

"Hey guys, come here." Sam called out. "Check this out." he added, both you and Dean walking back to the bar.

"Yeah." you said, Sam looking up at you.

"A few murders not far from here that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam said, looking between the two of you.

"Yeah, so?" Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.

"So, I told her we'd check it out." Sam said as he gathered all of the papers back into the folder and stood up.

The three of you were back in the minivan, Dean driving, Sam in the passenger seat, you leaning up from the backseat. The rain was coming down hard, forcing the three of you to speak louder than normal.

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean asked, Sam still looking at the research in his lap.

"Well, you just gotta be shittin' bricks right about now." you said, Sam shooting you a dirty look.

"He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually." Sam explained.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked, Sam nodding.

"Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnival." Sam said, flipping through some of the papers.

"Okay, but how do you know that we're not just dealing with some fuckin' psycho carnie in a clown suit?" you asked, Sam turning in his seat to face you.

"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." Sam explained, Dean looking over at him.

"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?" Dean said, not hearing your earlier remark.

"Oh, give me a break." Sam said, rolling his eyes, both you and Dean laughing.

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

"Well, at least I'm not afraid of flying." Sam said, Dean's eyes going wide.

"Planes crash!" he fired back, Sam turning to you.

"Or small spaces." Sam said, you rolling your eyes.

"Oh, you can fuck right off, Sam. MIne is a much more realistic fear, and you know it.  I mean, what the fuck is so scary about a clown?" you asked, Sam shaking his head.

"Well, apparently clowns kill, Y/N." Sam said, Dean speaking up before the two of you got into a ridiculous argument.

"So, these type of murders, they ever happen before?" Dean asked, Sam looking down at the file.

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O.. It happened three times, three different locales." Sam explained, Dean shaking his head.

"It's weird, though. I mean, if it's a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale. You know, a house, or a town." Dean said, Sam looking to him.

"So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam asked.

"Cursed object, maybe." you said, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them." Dean said, Sam sighing.

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt." Sam said, closing the file in his lap.

"Tell me about it." you said, leaning back in your seat.

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

"So?" Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

"It's just...not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell bent for leather on the demon hunt." Dean said, you leaning back up, expecting a fight.

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do." Sam said, you looking between the two of them, gauging the situation.

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asked, you looking over to him.

"De." you warned, giving him a look.

"Yeah, so?" Sam asked, Dean glancing at you before turning his attention back to the road.

"Nothin'." Dean clipped out, you leaning into your seat with a sigh.

The minivan squeaked to a stop outside of the carnival, and the three of you climbed out. You leaned against the side of the van, watching as what appeared to be detectives talked to some of the carnies.

"Check it out, Five-oh." Dean said, nodding his head in their direction.

"You got it?" you asked, Dean nodding before walking off towards the carnies, trying to get what facts he could.

Both you and Sam ventured closer to the carnival grounds, Sam shoving his hands in his pockets as the two of you subtly looked around. You turned your head just in time to see a woman, who was about three feet tall, in a clown outfit approaching. You looked up at Sam and tried to hide your smile. He was staring at her nervously as she walked by, his posture rigid as he tried to keep his cool.

"Did you get her number?" Dean asked as he approached the two of you, Sam scowling at the question.

"More murders?" Sam asked, Dean nodding.

"Two more last night. Apparently, they were ripped to shreds, and they had a little boy with them." Dean explained, both you and Sam listening closely.

"Who fingered a clown." Sam said, you snorting out a laugh, Dean pausing and giving him a weird look.

"Sounds pretty kinky if you ask me." you said, not able to keep a straight face, Sam giving you a completely done look, Dean chuckling.

"Really, Y/N?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"What? You said it." you said, Dean shaking his head, trying not to smile.

"Alright, back on track." Dean said, Sam looking at him to continue. "Yeah, the kid saw a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

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

"And we don't even fuckin' know if that's what we're dealing with for sure." you said, Sam nodding in agreement.

"Well, if it's a cursed object then, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything." Dean said, Sam giving him a look.

"Oh, good, that's nice and...inconspicuous." Sam sarcastically said, you looking over to him.

"You got a better idea?" you asked, Dean spotting something nearby.

"I guess we'll just have to blend in." Dean said, nodding his head towards a "Help Wanted" sign.

"Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?" Dean asked, the three of you stepping into the tent of a man throwing knives at a target, all the knives landing near but not quite on the bullseye.

"What is that, some kind of joke?" the man asked, pulling off his sunglasses to reveal that he was blind.

"Oh, God, I'm, I'm sorry." Dean said, embarrassed by his blunder.

"You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?" the man asked, Dean looking to you and Sam for help.

"Wanna give me a little help here?" Dean quietly asked the two of you.

"Not really." Sam said, you quickly jumping in.

"You're doin' great." you said, giving him the okay signal with your hand.

"Hey man, is there a problem?" someone asked, Dean turning, then looking down to see an extremely short man in a red cape.

"Yeah, this guy hates blind people." the blind man said, Dean shaking his head.

"No, I don't. I-" Dean tried to explain, the short man cutting him off.

"Hey buddy, what's your problem?" he asked, looking up at Dean.

"Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding." Dean said, you grabbing onto his arm, catching his mistake.

"Little?! You son of a bitch!" the short man yelled, Dean's eyes going wide.

"No, no, no, no! I'm just, could somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?" Dean asked, both you and Sam laughing. "Please?"

"You kids picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat." Mr. Cooper said as the three of you walked into his office. "Sorry about the lack of chairs."

"No problem." you said, giving him a friendly smile, Dean looking at the available chairs.

One of the chairs was normal, the other was pink with a giant clown face on it. Dean quickly beat Sam to the normal chair, and pulled you so that you basically fell into his lap. Sam scowled, and fidgeted before sitting gingerly in the clown chair, giving you and Dean one final dirty look before composing himself.

"We've got all kinds of local trouble." Mr. Cooper said once the three of you had settled.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, you shifting so that he could see Mr. Cooper.

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

"Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas." Sam said, both you and Dean nodding.

"Yeah." the two of you said in unison.

"Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? ANS Men?" Mr. Cooper asked before turning to you. "Surely they had a looker like you doin' something special."

"Oh yeah, I....they always saved me for the good stuff." you said, Sam quickly jumping in.

"Yeah, it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess." Sam said, Mr. Cooper studying the three of you closely.

"You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?" Cooper asked, you letting out a slow breath.

"Nope. But we really need the work. Oh, and uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady." Dean joked, Sam shooting him a look.

"You see that picture? That's my daddy." Mr. Cooper said, pointing out an old black and white photo.

"You look just like him." Sam said, you looking at the photo a little longer before turning to Mr. Cooper.

"You really do." you said, thinking that they looked like the same person.

"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 a partner, have 2.5 kids. Live regular." Mr. Cooper said, Dean opening his mouth to speak, Sam leaning forward, his eyes serious.

"Sir, we don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this." Sam said, both you and Dean looking at him a little shocked.

"Huh." Dean said, once the three of you had walked out of Mr. Cooper's office.

"What?" Sam asked, Dean pausing a moment before speaking.

"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, both you and him watching Sam closely.

"Sam?" you asked, when he didn't answer.

"I don't know." Sam said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"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. You know, leave all the work to me and Singer." Dean said, you elbowing him.

"I'm having second thoughts." Sam said, shocking you a little.

"Really?" you asked, Sam nodding.

"Yeah. I think...Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job." Sam said, Dean giving him a look.

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

"Dean!" you barked, Dean looking down at you.

"What? You know it's true." Dean said, you shaking your head.

"Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?" Sam asked, looking at Dean, Dean finally turning to face him.

"Naw, I don't have a problem at all." Dean said, shaking his head as he walked off.

Sam, clad in a red "Cooper Carnival" jacket was picking up trash while surreptitiously scanning with the EMF meter. He walked up to the fun house and looked around before walking inside, still scanning. Suddenly, a skeleton fell from the ceiling, and Sam scanned it. The EMF meter didn't react, but Sam did get an idea.

Dean was wearing a similar red uniform jacket and picking up trash to put in the dumpster when his cell phone rang.

"Hello." Dean said.

"Hey, man." Sam said, Dean still looking around for trash.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown." Dean teased, Sam huffing out a breath.

"Very funny. Skeleton, actually." Sam said.

"Like a real human skeleton?" Dean asked, thinking that it could be what the three of you were searching for.

"In the fun house. Listen, I was thinking. What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object? What if it's attached to its own remains?" Sam asked, on the same page as Dean.

"Did the bones give off EMF?" Dean asked.

"Well, no, but-" Sam started, Dean cutting him off.

"We should check it out anyway. I'm gonna grab Singer, then we'll head to you." Dean said, hanging up the phone, the blind man from earlier grabbing his arm.

"What are you doing here, kid?" the blind man asked, Dean thrown off by his sudden appearance.

"I'm...I was just sweeping." Dean said, the blind man not convinced.

"Bull. And, what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?" the blind man asked, rattling off rapid fire questions.

"Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control." Dean said, shocked that he overheard everything.

"We're a tight knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems." the blind man said, a little threateningly.

"We got a problem?" Dean asked, watching the man closely.

"You tell me. You're the one talking about human bones." the blind man said, Dean racing to come up with an explanation.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Dean blurted out.

"What?" the blind man asked, thrown off by the question.

"My brother, my girlfriend, and me...umm. We're writing a book about them." Dean said before quickly excusing himself to find you.

Dean had tried calling your phone a couple of times, each call going straight to voicemail. He walked around the grounds until he came upon the Strongman's tent. Mr. Cooper had given you the job of his assistant, and Dean could tell that the two of you were in the middle of a show, the crowd's applause and cheering ringing out from the tent.

Dean stepped through the opening and stood at the back of the crowd, watching as you walked around the strongman, showcasing him like a model would a prize on The Price is Right. This was the strongman's act, but Dean couldn't help but notice that most eyes were on you.

You always did have a habit of turning heads, but the skin tight, barely there crop top and skimpy shorts that left little to the audience's imagination certainly wasn't helping. Dean shrugged off his red jacket, dead set on covering you up the second you were off stage, and watched as the strongman prepared for the final act of the show.

Dean watched the strongman get down on one knee in the center of the stage, and hold out a hand to you. You circled around him before coming to a stop at his side, facing towards the crowd. The strongman turned the hand closest to you palm side up, his arm bent at the elbow, and you eased yourself down until you were sitting on his hand. With one fluid motion the strongman stood up, using his free hand to hold onto your hand to help balance you. With a nod of his head the strongman fully extended his arms, and the crowd went wild as he balanced you above his head.

Even though you had a bright smile plastered on your face Dean could tell that you were about two seconds away from losing your cool. Dean tossed his jacket on the back of one of the empty chairs and pushed his way to the stage, the corner of his mouth turning up when he saw how relieved you were to see him.

"Ivan, down." you said, the strongman looking up at you. "Pryamo seychas, mudak." you spat, Dean looking at you in confusion as Ivan quickly put you down.

As soon as your feet hit the stage you were whipping around to face Ivan, who was backing up with his hands up. Dean quickly jumped up on the stage and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you back towards him.

"Come on, Singer." Dean said as you struggled in his hold.

"No, no, no. That fucker has it comin'. Not only did I have to deal with his fuckin' hand up my God damn ass all day, but my gloves weren't worthy of the costume." you said, Dean walking you back to the edge of the stage. "I could hear everything. He's lucky most of it was in Russian, or I probably would have bashed his God damn brains in." you added, Dean huffing out a laugh.

"Want me to go knock the guy on his ass?" Dean asked, still holding onto you, your fists clenched to keep from touching him.

"All I'm gonna say is that if you don't get me outta here we're gonna have another body on our hands." you said, Dean releasing you before walking down the steps.

"Let's go then. Sam thinks he may have something." Dean said as the two of you walked to the back of the tent, Dean grabbing his discarded jacket off the back of the chair and draping it over your shoulders.

"What'd you say back there, anyway?" Dean asked as the two of you walked out of the tent.

"Called him an asshole." you said, pulling the jacket closed around you.

"You speak Russian?" Dean asked, one brow raised.

"I picked up a few words from dumb ass back there, but I'm pretty fluent in curse words in most languages." you said, Dean chuckling as the two of you walked to meet Sam.

"What took you guys so long?" Sam asked, looking between you and Dean.

"You don't wanna know." you sighed, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, long story." Dean said, Sam shaking his head in frustration.

"Mommy, look at that clown!" a little girl shouted, the three of you looking over to see a little girl pointing at nothing.

"What clown?" the child's mother asked. "Come on sweetie, Come on." she said before pulling the little girl away, the three of you sharing a look, knowing that you had the next targets.

"I cannot believe the two of you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam said, the three of you on stakeout outside the family from the carnivals home.

"It's not like we sought him out. We bumped into him on our way to meet you, and he started asking questions. We had to tell him something." you said, leaning up from the backseat.

"And that's what you came up with?" Sam asked, you rolling your eyes.

"Look, we told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. We never said it was real." Dean said as he pulled out his gun and cocked it, Sam grabbing at it, pushing Dean's hands down.

"Keep that down!" Sam scolded, afraid that someone would see.

"Relax, nobody can fuckin' see anything." you said, Dean speaking up before Sam could say anything to you.

"Oh, and get this. We mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their uh, evil clown apocalypse. Guess what." Dean said, Sam paying close attention.

"What?" Sam asked, anxious for Dean to continue.

"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager." you explained, Sam nodding.

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

"Something like that. It's the best we could come up with for now." you said, Dean shaking his head and sighing.

"I can't believe we keep talking about clowns." he said, you laughing under your breath as you leaned back in your seat, Dean closing his eyes.

Dean was dozing in the front seat when a light flicked on in the family's dining room, both you and Sam jumping to attention. Sam quickly shook Dean awake while you opened the bag next to you and started pulling out weapons. The three of you quickly exited the vehicle and rushed to the house, dead set on getting inside before the spirit did.

The three of you were hiding in wait, weapons at the ready as the little girl started to lead the clown down the hallway, "Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs." the little girl said, Sam leaping out and grabbing the girl, who started to scream.

Dean fired off a shot and hit the clown in the chest, the clown falling on it's back. You held your gun on him and quickly fired off another shot when he started to get back up.

"What the fuck?" you asked, the clown getting to his feet as both you and Dean tried to rack in another round.

"Sam, watch out!" Dean yelled, the clown leaping out the window, turning invisible as it ran away, the girl's parents rushing into the room.

"What's going on here? Get away from my-" the girl's father started, the mother quickly jumping in.

"Oh my God! What are you doing to my daughter?!" the mother asked, a horrified look on her face.

"Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!" the father yelled, the three of you running away as fast as you possibly could.

Dean pulled the minivan off the side of the road and put it in park. The three of you climbed out and started to dig out all of your belongings, Dean stopping to take the license plates as well.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asked, watching as Dean tucked the plates into his bag.

"Not worth the chance." you said, hitching your bag up on your shoulder, Dean nodding in agreement.

"Besides, I hate this fuckin' thing anyway." Dean said, the three of you starting to walk down the road. "Well, one thing's for sure."

"What's that?" Sam asked, looking over to Dean.

"We're not dealing with a spirit." Dean said, you nodding.

"Yeah, that rock salt hit something fuckin' solid." you said, Sam looking to you.

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam asked, you shrugging your shoulders.

"Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks? Did it say anything in Dad's journal?" Dean asked, Sam shaking his head.

"Nope." Sam replied, clearing his throat and pulling out his phone.

"Who are you calling?" Dean asked, nodding towards Sam's phone.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something." Sam said.

"They'll definitely be able to narrow it down and give us a direction to go in." you said, Sam pausing in the middle of dialing the number.

"Hey, you guys think, uh, you guys think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?" Sam asked, looking between you and Dean.

"No way." Dean said, shaking his head.

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

"I don't think it's that big of a deal. I mean, I knew her and never said anything. It just never came up. You don't gotta tell people every single fucking person you know." you said, Sam shaking his head.

"But, she said he was like family once. I just think it's a little weird that he never mentioned her." Sam said.

"I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out." Dean said, Sam looking down at his feet.

"Yeah, you guys ever notice that Dad had a falling out with just about everybody? I mean, look at him and Bobby." Sam said, looking to you.

"I don't have anything to say about that." you said, Sam looking to Dean.

"Can't you see it?" Sam asked, Dean nodding casually, Sam lowering the phone. "Well, don't get all Maudlin on me, man."

"What do you mean?" Dean asked, you knowing that a fight was bound to break out.

"Sam." you warned, Sam waving you off.

"No, no. You both need to hear this. This strong, silent thing the two of you are doing is crap." Sam said, Dean shaking his head.

"Oh, God!" Dean sighed, you preparing to break the two of them up.

"I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about." Sam said, looking at Dean. "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 fired back, you stepping between them.

"We're not gonna do this right now." you said, Sam completely ignoring you.

"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, both of you. Drinking yourselves stupid doesn't count. Listen, I'm your brother, all right?" Sam said before looking to you. "Y/N, you're like my sister, and I know that you are going through things right now, too. I just want to make sure that you guys are okay."

"Sam, I'm fine." you said, Sam sighing before looking to Dean.

"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. I don't understand why you have to keep pushing. I mean, fuck, it's like the only peace I can get is when I'm working on the car, or when I'm with Singer. She gets it, man. Why can't you? These are your issues, quit dumping them on us." Dean said, you ready to jump in.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, Dean looking down at his feet, pausing a moment before making eye contact with Sam.

"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." Dean said, you putting your hand on his chest to stop him.

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asked, you shaking your head.

"Don't. Enough is enough." you said, trying to protect Sam, Dean looking down at you before looking to Sam.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"Dean asked, you pushing against his chest.

"God fucking damn it! I said that was enough. He got the fuckin' point." you said, Sam swallowing loudly, looking upset.

"I'm going to go call Ellen." Sam quietly said before walking ahead of you and Dean.

You and Dean caught up to Sam a little further down the road, neither one of you saying anything to each other about the blow up. Both of you kept a bit of distance from Sam and listened as he finished his conversation.

"Thanks a lot." Sam said before hanging up the phone and turning to you and Dean. "Rakshasa."

"What's that?" Dean asked, you thinking back to where you'd heard the name before.

"Ellen's best guess." Sam started, you interrupting.

"Rakshasa. That's Hindu, isn't it?" you asked, Sam looking to you.

"Yeah, it's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, and they feed on human flesh. They can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited." Sam explained, looking between you and Dean.

"So, they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam said, you nodding.

"That's pretty fuckin' smart." you said, both boys agreeing.

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asked, Sam shrugging.

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

"What else'd you find out?" Dean asked.

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. The sleep on a bed of dead insects." Sam said, you wrinkling your nose.

"Nice." Dean sighed, Sam nodding.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years." Sam said, you jumping in.

"Slow metabolism, I guess." you said, Sam huffing out a breath.

"Well, that makes sense. I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81." Dean said, Sam looking over to him.

"Right. Probably more before that." Sam said, you taking a few steps ahead of them before turning around to face them, continuing to walk backwards.

"Well boys, who do we know that worked both shows?" you asked, Sam and Dean sharing a look.

"Cooper?" Sam asked, Dean quickly speaking up.

"Cooper." Dean said, you nodding.

"You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him." Sam said, you falling back in line with them.

"You think maybe it was him?" Dean asked.

"That's what I would bet on." you said, looking over at him.

"Yeah, who knows how old he is." Sam said, the three of you quiet for a moment.

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Dean asked, you speaking up before Sam could answer.

"Some kind of blade I think. I've read about it before, but I can't fuckin' remember." you said before looking to Sam.

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

"I think I know where to get one of those." Dean said, Sam stopping the two of you.

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him." Sam said, a serious expression on his face as he looked between you and Dean.

"Come on, Sam." you sighed. "Where's the fun in that?" you teased.

"You're such a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean said, the three of you smiling at each other. "All right, me and Singer will round up the blade, you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

Once the three of you were back on the carnival grounds Sam split away from you and Dean. He headed towards Cooper's trailer while you and Dean went to go find the blind man.

"Well, I've got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I've got a brass one, though." the blind man said, leading you and Dean into his trailer.

Sam picked the lock on Cooper's trailer and eased open the door. He stepped inside and quickly looked around, pulling out his pocket knife once he spotted the small bed. Sam walked over and started to slice through the mattress, looking for any evidence of dead insects. Suddenly, Sam heard a gun cock from behind him, and he instantly froze.

"What do you think you're doing?" Mr. Cooper asked, pointing his gun at Sam.

The blind man let you and Dean into his trailer and tapped a trunk with his cane, "Check the trunk." he said, Dean bending down to open the trunk, both of you spotting the red clown wig.

"Well, fuck me." you whispered, Dean standing back up.

"You?" he asked, the blind man dropping his cane before pulling off his glasses.

"Me." he said, his eyes going cloudy, his face beginning to melt as he waved, his face then disappearing Cheshire Cat style, his glowing eyes the last thing you saw.

Dean grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you towards the door. He started to struggle with the door, a knife flying past his head to bury into the door. You quickly pulled off a glove and held up your hand as Dean jumped back, another knife landing with a thunk a little higher.

"All right!" Dean yelled, you releasing the ball of light in the direction the knives came from, unsure if you even hit him.

"We need to fuckin' move." you said, looking back over your shoulder at him, Dean finally managing to get the door open.

"Hey!" Sam shouted, seeing the two of you tumble out of the trailer.

"Hey." Dean said, making sure that you were by his side.

"So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him." Sam said, looking between you and Dean.

"Yeah, no shit." you said, looking behind you, Dean quickly jumping in.

"Yeah, we gathered that. It's the blind guy. He's here somewhere." Dean said, the two of you looking around.

"Well, did you guys get the-" Sam started to ask, Dean interrupting.

"The brass blades? No." Dean said, Sam looking to you.

"We were a little busy trying not to become fuckin' pin cushions. Asshole started throwin' fuckin' knives after he went all Invisible Man on us." you said, Dean nodding.

"Yeah, it's just been one of those days." he said, Sam pausing to think a moment.

"I got an idea. Come on." Sam said, leading the two of you towards the fun house.

The three of you entered the fun house, a door slamming down as you went through. Dean was on one side while you and Sam were on the other, both of them struggling to open the door.

"Sam! Singer!" Dean yelled, still trying to open the door.

"De, you okay?" you asked as Sam stopped trying.

"Dean, find the maze!" Sam instructed before pulling you along after him.

Sam stopped in front of a pipe organ, the organ giving off steam. He reached for one of the pipes, quickly pulling his hand back as he grimaced from the heat.

"Here." you said, grabbing onto the pipe with your gloved hands, trying to pull it down.

Sam stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out a bandanna before wrapping it around his hand, He grabbed onto the pipe and helped you pull, the pipe snapping free just as Dean came around the corner.

"Hey." Dean said, you pulling off your gloves as Sam took the pipe in his hands.

"Hey! Where is it?" Sam asked, looking frantically around.

"I don't know. I mean, shouldn't we see it's clothes walking around?"Dean asked, you shaking your head.

"We didn't see them in the trailer." you said, a knife flying past, pinning Dean's sleeve to the wall, another one zooming by to pin his wrist.

"Guys!" Dean yelled, Sam stalking forward slowly, a knife flying past his head.

"Where is he?" Sam asked, you trying to free Dean.

"I don't know!" Dean shouted, reaching up with his free hand and pulling a lever, more steam pouring from the pipe organ, giving a vague shape to the invisible attacker.

"Sam, behind you!" you yelled, Sam stabbing the pipe behind him without looking.

Sam turned to see the pipe buried in the still invisible creature, blood pouring from the wound. You and Dean finally managed to get him free, and the two of you turned to see only empty clothes and a bloody pipe.

"I hate fun houses." Dean breathed out, turning to look at you.

"Yeah." you said, letting out a slow breath.

Sam and Dean were sitting at the bar back at the Roadhouse as Ellen placed a couple of beers in front of them.

"You boys did a hell of a job. Your dad'd be proud." Ellen said before quickly surveying the room.

"Thanks." Sam said, Ellen turning her attention back to them.

"Y/N not with you?" she asked, Dean taking a swig of his beer.

"Said she had to talk to Ash about something." Dean said, Jo sitting on the other side of him, giving Sam a look.

"Oh yeah, um, I've gotta...uh, uh, I've gotta go. Over there. Right now." Sam said, quickly getting to his feet, stopping by Jo and leaning down to whisper in her ear. "I'd be careful if I were you." he said, knowing how temperamental you could be.

"So." Jo said, clearing her throat, completely disregarding Sam's warning.

"So." Dean said before taking another drink, knowing what she was going to say.

"Am I gonna see you again?" she asked, Dean looking straight ahead.

"I, uh, I don't know." Dean said, Jo leaning towards him.

"I wouldn't hate it, you know." she said, Dean taking a deep breath.

"Hmm. Can I be honest with you? See, in the past I'd be hitting on you so fast it'd make your head spin. But, uh, these days..." Dean said, trailing off when he saw you walk in from the back room.

"Wrong place, wrong time?" Jo asked, nodding towards you.

"There's no way I'm gonna mess that up." Dean said, Jo nodding.

"It's okay, I get it." she said, Ash walking out the same door you did, carrying the folder and a bizarre looking laptop.

"Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya." Ash said, Ellen passing you a beer as you sat down at the bar.

"We were workin' a job, Ash. Clowns." Sam said, Ash raising a brow.

"Clowns? What the-" Ash started to ask, Dean cutting him off.

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked, Ash setting the laptop down, the exposed wiring making it look homemade.

"Hey, Ellen, can I get something a little stronger?" you asked, the corner of Ellen's mouth turning up.

"What can I getcha?" she asked, you pushing your beer aside.

"Johnnie Walker." you said, Ellen turning around. "Make it a double." you added, Dean giving you a worried look.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked, Ash shaking his head.

"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." Ash said, you laughing under your breath.

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, needing a better explanation.

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

"Do you mind..."Dean started to ask, trailing off when Ash gave him a look, pulling his hand back from the keyboard. "Yeah."

"What's up, man?" Ash asked, Sam staring at the laptop.

"Ash, where did you learn to do all of this?" Sam asked, Ash shrugging.

"M.I.T.. Before I got bounced for fighting." Ash answered, Sam reeling back.

"M.I.T.?" Sam asked, a little shocked.

"It's a school in Boston." Ash said, like it wasn't a big deal.

"Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something." Dean said, Ash nodding.

"Si, si, compadre." Ash said, Dean taking another sip of his beer before sitting it down and getting to his feet.

"Singer?" Dean said as him and Sam headed for the door, you downing the rest of your drink before standing up.

"Hey, listen...if you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back." Ellen said, you whispering something to Ash before joining Sam and Dean.

"Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish." Dean said, tossing his arm over your shoulders.

"Okay." Ellen said, giving the three of you a smile before you walked out the door.

The three of you had made it back to Bobby's, Sam and Dean were outside, and you were sitting at the kitchen table nursing a tumbler of whiskey.

"Mind if I join ya?" Bobby asked as he walked into the kitchen.

"Don't ya think you're a little a long in the tooth to be drinkin' at this time of day?" you asked, Bobby huffing out a laugh.

"D'ya just sit around and think of ways to be a smart ass?" Bobby asked, grabbing a glass before sitting down across from you.

"Nope. I don't even have to think about it. It's just a natural talent." you shot back, sliding the bottle to him.

"What'd Ellen have to say?" Bobby asked, pouring himself a drink.

"She offered to help with the demon. Long story short, Ash is tracking it. He said if any signs pop up, he'll know." you said, Bobby nodding, the two of you slipping into silence. "You, uh...you said that I knew things when I was little." you finally said, Bobby looking up at you.

"Yeah." he said, trying to prepare himself for another fight.

"Well, what happened? I mean, I don't remember any of that, and all of....this." you said, holding up your hands, "didn't start until...well, it wasn't happening back then."

"I wish I had a solid answer for you, Kid. It all just kind of stopped out of nowhere. I...I can't explain it." Bobby said, you shaking your head. "Look, I'd give anything to be able to tell you-" he started, you interrupting.

"You can't tell me what you don't know." you said before picking up your drink and finishing it.

"I'm gonna do some diggin', see if I can find anything." Bobby said, watching you closely.

"Yeah, okay." you said, thinking about whether you should tell him what you and Ash talked about. "I, uh, I asked Ash for help." you finally said, a worried expression sliding onto Bobby's face.

"Kid, you can't...if the wrong person-" Bobby started, you interrupting.

"I didn't tell him anything like that. I just asked him if he could find my-" you said, stopping short. "I just asked if he could try to track him down. I only gave him his name. That's it."

"It's not safe. It's just gonna open a whole new can of worms, and-" Bobby tried to say, you cutting him off.

"Pretty sure the can's already been opened." you said, Bobby shaking his head.

"There are people out there, hunters, that aren't gonna read between the lines. There isn't going to be any gray areas with them. It's black or it's white. Kid, I'm not going to be able to keep you safe." Bobby said, you standing up from the table.

"My entire life has been a lie. I...I don't even know who I am anymore. I know that the truth probably isn't going to be pretty. It never is, but I think I deserve to know what it is. Dad." you said, Bobby looking up at you with teary eyes. "You can't hover over me my entire life. You gotta let me make my own way, and trust that I can handle myself."

"I know. It's just-" Bobby said, looking away from you, not able to finish his thought. "What if you find him, and..."

"Like you said, you may not have made me, but YOU are my father. I'm a Singer, and I'm not lookin' to fuckin' change that." you said, Bobby looking a bit relieved. "I...I just need to know-"

"I know." Bobby said, standing up from his seat. "Just promise me that you'll take care of yourself, and that you'll call if you ever need anything." he said, you walking over to him.

"I will." you said before wrapping your arms around him. "I just want to say this real quick, and them I'm gonna knock it the fuck off because it's gettin' a little too God damn mushy." you said before taking a deep breath. "I couldn't have picked a better man to be my father. I love you, Old Man."

"I love ya, Kid." Bobby said, kissing the top of your head, the two of you holding tightly to each other. "Now." Bobby said, clearing his throat. "You better go check on those idjits."

"Yeah." you said, holding on a second longer before stepping back , the two of you sharing one final look before you left the room.

"You were right." Sam said, Dean busy working on the Impala while Sam paced nearby.

"About what?" Dean asked, not looking up.

"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. So, you're right. What I'm doing now, it's too little. It's too late." Sam said, pausing a beat, his bottom lip trembling. "I miss him, man. And, I feel guilty as hell. And...I'm not all right. Not at all." he said, tears in his eyes. "But, neither are you. That much I know." he said, pausing. "I'll let you get back to work." he added before walking away.

Dean was still for a moment, all of Sam's words sinking in. He picked up a crowbar before walking to a nearby car and smashing out the window. He looked down at the crowbar in his hand before walking back to the Impala and slamming it into the trunk. He couldn't stop after that first hit. He just kept slamming the crowbar down, over and over, letting out all of the frustration and anger that he had been bottling up.

Dean finally took a step back, his shoulders slumping as he let the crowbar clatter to the ground. He looked back over his shoulder, expecting to see Sam standing there, his lip starting to tremble when he saw you standing where Sam had been. He quickly looked away, keeping his back to you as he tried to compose himself.

Things had been a little awkward between the two of you, both of you preferring to just skirt around everything. It was easier than talking about it. It was easier than having to face the truth. Vulnerability wasn't easy for either one of you, and you knew that in that moment Dean was feeling completely exposed. All of the feelings and emotions that he had been trying to bury deep down finally worked their way to the surface.

That was always the problem with holding everything in. You become a powder keg, a ticking time bomb, and you explode eventually. Then, you are bare. Every flaw, every weakness is on display for everyone to see, and you are left there trying to pick up the pieces of your own self destruction.

You knew that he probably wanted to be alone, to hide away until he could build that walk back up. You would want the same thing, but you couldn't let him be alone. You needed to let him know that you were there to help him pick up the pieces. So, without thinking anymore about it, you walked over to him and wrapped your arms around him from behind. You pressed yourself tightly to him, one hand coming up to rest over his heart.

Dean stood there completely stiff for a moment, struggling internally, trying his best not to break. You didn't say anything. It wasn't time for words yet. You just held onto him tightly, your cheek resting against his back. You finally felt him relax, his shoulders starting to shake.

"I'm right here." you softly said, Dean's hand coming up to rest over yours.

"S-Singer, I...I don't know what to do. I'm...lost." he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know, De. I know." you said, pausing a moment. "But, I'm right here, okay? When you feel like you can't count on anything else, you can fuckin' count on that." you said, Dean squeezing onto your hand. "I'm not gonna tell you that I know what to do, or that I have any answers because I don't. But, I will tell you that I'll be here every step of the fuckin' way." you added, Dean silent for a moment.

"You and me." he finally said, you taking a deep breath.

"You and me." you repeated, those three words saying everything that needed to be said.

A/N: Hey guys, I just want to apologize for the delay again. I also want you all to know just how much I appreciate each and every one of you. All of the kind words and love I have received mean the world to me. <3 <3

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