18. Ways to Grieve
Safe and Sound
Dean Winchester x Original Character
Episode: 2x02; Everybody Loves a Clown
Word Count: 11,378
Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence + gore, grief, mentions of sexual activities
Author’s Note: Here’s Abby’s first hunt with Julia and the boys! I hope you like the chapter. Let me know what you think. Make sure to reblog and like!
Masterlist in Pinned Post!
Julia was tossed onto the bed by Dean—he was careful of her healing wrist—her semi-naked body bouncing a couple times. She gasped and lifted her head, watching with dazed eyes as Dean pulled his t-shirt off his body, throwing it in the corner of their temporary room at Bobby's house.
"Uh-uh," Julia clicked her tongue, eyeing his jeans.
Dean rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt, sliding it from around his waist and letting it drop to the floor. "I was getting there."
"Sure."
"Keep talking," Dean stepped out his jeans and eagerly crawled onto the bed and over her. "I might have to punish you."
"Is that a promise?" she teased him; she reached up with her good arm and hooked around his neck. Pulling him only two inches away from her lips, she whispered, "Dean."
"Hmm?"
His green eyes were on her swollen lips, where his own had been only a moment before. She could feel his erection against her stomach and she hardly felt his bare chest against her.
She arched her back, pressing her breasts against him. "Fuck me, Dean."
Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck and groaned, pressing an open mouth kiss against her sensitive flesh. She could feel his rough hands trailing from her ribs to her thighs, spreading them so he could fit between them. "With pleasure, shortcake."
Julia rolled her neck under the warm spray of the shower, trying to relax her muscles. Last night had been another night of rough sex and while she enjoyed it just as much as all the sex she had with Dean, so many nights in a row were killing her body in the mornings before she could get it warmed up with yoga or a run.
This morning was one of those days; she had woken up at five o'clock and met with Sam so the two of them could take a run while the sun came up. Sam would talk about John, airing all the grief and regret he had about his dad and Julia would listen and comforted him when he needed it, just like a best friend should do.
It had been a week since John Winchester died and they'd been at Bobby's ever since so Dean could work on his car. Beth, Taylor, and Lizzie had stayed for a couple of days, too. They picked them—and John's body—up at the hospital and drove straight to Bobby's house, staying at one of the motels in town while Julia, Dean, and Sam stayed with Bobby. Sam was a wreck, though having Lizzie there for a couple of days distracted him from his grief, and Dean was worse.
It wasn't that he was having crying meltdowns—come on, it's Dean—but instead, he had stayed stone quiet at any mention of his dad. He didn't talk about John and he would walk away if anyone mentioned him—especially Sam.
Not that it matters, but that's what would lead to the rough sex Julia and Dean had been having. He took all of his frustrations out on her—being careful not to hurt her, of course—and Julia would let him. John had just died and if sex is what would make Dean feel better, she was all for it. Of course, she wished he would just open up but Dean wasn't that kind of guy. She stood by his side, though, doing whatever she could to help him process his grief.
When Julia and Sam were done with their jog at six, Dean was already up working in the junkyard. He had been getting up earlier than usual to fix up the Impala. It had been absolutely wrecked in the accident—and according to Bobby wasn't worth the time to fix it—but Dean was determined to fix Baby back up. Both of them muttered a good morning to Dean, but he just grumbled back, sliding under the car to fix whatever damage had happened there.
From there, Julia and Sam separated. Sam went up to the guest shower to wash off and after he was down, Julia would get a turn. While Sam was taking his time in the shower, she would make breakfast just as Bobby would wake up. It had been their schedule since they arrived a week earlier.
Hearing her stomach growl, Julia rinsed out of the rest of conditioner in her hair and turned off the water. She stepped out of the shower and dried off, inhaling deeply to get a whiff of bacon once again. She quickly dressed in some leggings and a long tank-top before heading downstairs.
Dean was still outside but Bobby and Sam were seated at the kitchen table, eating their breakfast with vigor.
"How's the breakfast?" she announced her presence as she walked into the kitchen, heading straight toward the cheddar and bacon quiche with a biscuit crust she had made.
"This is great, sweetheart," Bobby smiled at her as she served herself a piece and sat in her usual seat between Dean's chair—it was empty at the moment—and Bobby's chair. "Thank you."
Julia waved him off with a sheepish smile.
"Yeah, thanks, J, it's good," Sam added.
"Thank you," she took a bite of her quiche and sighed, enjoying the flavor. "Did Dean eat?"
Bobby nodded. "He shoved a slice down his throat and went back outside. He told us to tell you thank you."
"Did he say anything else?" she prodded. "Maybe about John or how he's feeling?"
"No," Sam answered her this time. "But I found an old voicemail on Dad's phone and I think it's something we could check out. I'm gonna go talk to him after I finish eating."
Julia nodded. "Okay. What did the voicemail say?"
"It was a voicemail from Ellen," Bobby told her, giving her a pointed look.
"Ellen Harvelle? As in Jo Harvelle?"
Bobby nodded.
"So you know her, too?" Sam turned to Julia with curious eyes; Julia nodded. "How?"
"I've never met them personally but Abby talks about them all the time," she explained. "Abby hooks up with Ellen's daughter, Jo, from time to time, so—"
"Abby hooks up with the daughter?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. "I didn't know she was bisexual."
Julia shrugged, knowing that some people may judge her sister for her sexuality but she wasn't one of them. People could love the people that they loved; she wasn't bothered by it and she proclaimed herself a proud ally for her sister. "She doesn't hide it."
"Oh," Sam hummed before shrugging casually. "Anyway, do you know why Ellen would call my dad?"
"I have no idea," Julia's eyes flickered over to Bobby. "Don't they own that bar?"
"The Roadhouse, yeah," Bobby finished the rest of his food and stood up, taking the plate to the sink. "I'll get you the address."
"Thanks, Bobby," Sam gave the older man a grateful look as he left the room; he then turned back to Julia. "I'm going to talk to Dean. Want to come with?"
"No, it's okay," Julia insisted. She wanted the brothers to have a minute by themselves; usually they were together all the time and she knew that the Winchesters needed a break from her once in a while—the same went for her, too. "You go on."
Sam nodded and went outside to talk to Dean. Even from the kitchen, where she finished her meal and started the dishes, she could feel Sam and Dean's energies clashing together. Sam was sad for his father and annoyed with Dean while Dean was guilty and angry. Each boy had more than two emotions racing around in their auras but these were the two that she could feel the strongest.
Three hours later, they were on the road in one of Bobby's cars—a minivan that hardly drove past sixty miles per hour, which was a nightmare to Dean, and had no backseat so Julia had to sit on a sheet on the dirty floor.
-
For some reason, a five-hour trip turned into something much longer. They arrived at the Roadhouse a little before sunrise the next day and by the time they parked out in front of the run-down bar, Dean was severely annoyed with the van and so on edge that Julia and Sam felt like if they said one word, he'd blow up—it wasn't the best way to travel.
Dean turned off the van with a huff, got out of his seat and opened the sliding door so Julia could get out (the sliding door happened to not have a handle on the inside, which aggravated the crap out of her). "This is humiliating!" he slammed the sliding door shut once Julia was safely out of the way. "I feel like a fuckin' soccer mom!"
Julia exchanged a half-amused, half-annoyed look with Sam as she adjusted her Nike shorts. She didn't understand how Sam and Dean could wear multiple layers of clothing in the hot weather and not die of heat exhaustion.
Sam tried to placate his brother. "It's the only car Bobby had running."
Julia stuck next to Dean in the front of the building as Sam wandered to the side.
"Hello?" he called. "Anybody here?"
Dean rattled the doorknob and when it wouldn't budge, he turned to Julia. "Shortcake, do you have the—"
"Yup!" Julia exclaimed, digging her hand into her drawstring bag and pulling out one of their beloved lockpicks.
Dean gave her a grateful smile and a promising wink as he took them from her. Julia could practically feel the flush in her cheeks, though the hot air around her made her feel the same, temperature wise. Dean finished up picking the lock and handed the tools back to her as he cautiously opened the door.
Julia hadn't seen many bars at the side of the road but the Roadhouse met her expectation of what they would be like. It was an open room filled with dark, dusty wood—tables, chairs, the bar—a pool table, and a jukebox in the corner by the door. Somehow, it was still cute and homey.
Julia let the door close behind her and followed the Winchester brothers further into the large room, looking around at the bottles of alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, the numerous tables, and...yeah, there was a guy passed out on the pool table.
"Hey, buddy?" Sam tried to wake him up as they all drew nearer; the man simply snored, unaware of the three people watching him. "Yeah, I'm guessing that isn't Ellen."
Dean scoffed under his breath. "No kidding."
Julia wandered off and Sam joined her while Dean stuck near the pool table. She had just walked off the mini platform that the table was on when she felt the head of a gun prod the small of her back.
"Dean," she squeaked. "Please tell me that it's you behind me and not a rifle."
There was a second of silence and then there was the cock of a gun behind her. Okay, shit, it was a rifle.
"Okay, we're not breaking in—I mean, we did break it but it's for a good reason—"
"Don't move," a woman's voice came from behind her.
"Yeah, okay, I won't move," she agreed quickly.
From his place next to the pool table, a knife pressed against his throat and a warm body against his back, Dean shook his head. He'd have to give her some more training on hostage situations. She was talking too much—as usual—and playing right into the kidnapper's hands.
He looked over to Sam, who was being held by another woman—this one older than the blonde that held her gun against Julia's back—and then back to Julia. "Jules!"
When she looked over at him, he silently tried to tell her to do the move he showed her a couple weeks ago, but he didn't need to. A familiar voice spoke behind him. "Jules, is that you? Can somebody turn on the damn lights?"
Julia recognize that voice anywhere. "Abby," Julia sighed as Abby let go of Dean; he sent her a glare and quickly took the knife from her hand, earning himself an apologetic look. "Thank God."
"Wait, this is your sister?" the older woman behind Sam asked. "Then the boys must be Sam and Dean Winchester."
"Yes, I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister, and that's Sam and Dean," Julia said quickly. "So, can you please put down your guns?"
The girl behind Julia dropped her rifle and walked to the nearest light switch, bathing the room with light. Julia first looked over at her sister—who was standing beside Dean wearing only a camisole and boy shorts—then at the blonde—who was only a couple inches taller than herself and wearing pajamas like Abby—and then at the older woman—who was lowering her gun from behind Sam's back.
"Son of a bitch," the older woman mumbled, putting the gun back on safety and setting it down on the board. Her mood lifted as she chuckled, introducing herself to Julia, Sam, and Dean. "Hey, I'm Ellen and this is my daughter, Jo."
Julia smiled at her in greeting and then turned to Jo. Jo was one of Abby's closest friends. They hooked up a bit and she had heard her sister gush over her all the time. By the way Jo was giving her an apologetic look, she assumed she had a good heart—and she was super pretty, too.
"I'm Julia, Abby's younger sister," she introduced herself, pulling Jo into a hug that made her stiffen in shock. "Sorry, most of my family are huggers," she let go, not wanting to make the blonde uncomfortable. Then she gestured to her sister, "Except that one."
"It's nice to meet you," Jo smiled softly. "Abby talks about you all the time."
"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you, too," Julia laughed and then turned to her sister, who was apologizing to Dean about something; then she saw the nick on Dean's throat. "Excuse me for a second," she told Jo before walking over to her boyfriend and sister. "Abby, what the hell?"
Abby put her hands in the air, defensive. "I didn't know who he was!"
"You've known Dean since you were born," Julia pointed out. "How do you not recognize him?"
"It was dark?" Abby's statement came out as a question. "Look, it was an accident."
Julia rolled her eyes at her sister—she was so much like Dean; shoot first ask questions later—and grabbed Dean's hand, squeezing it tightly. He returned her action as she dragged him over to where Sam and Ellen were talking. "Hi, ma'am, I'm Julia. It's great to meet you."
"You, too, sweetheart," Ellen smiled down at her.
"Do you happen to have a first aid kit?" Julia wondered, gesturing to Dean, who was holding his hand against the small cut on his throat just above his collar bone.
"Of course."
Within minutes, Dean and Sam introduced themselves to Ellen and Jo, they had sat down at the bar, and Julia was cleaning up Dean's cut and sticking a bandage over it.
"So," Dean turned to Ellen for answers about the voicemail she left John. "You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"
"Well, the demon, of course," Ellen shrugged casually. "I heard he was closing in on it."
"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?" Dean asked, scoffing in annoyance; he didn't like to have his business out there so everyone could know. "I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?"
Julia spared at look at Abby, who smiled mischievously at her. Abby had always loved when Dean lost his temper for whatever reason. It just always brought a smile to her face; Dean absolutely hated when she did it and would just get angrier, which led to more amusement on her part. It was an endless routine that always had Julia annoyed. But, at that moment, Julia took Abby's smile to mean that she was the one who told Ellen what John and Luke were up to.
Julia shook her head at her.
"Hey, I just run a saloon," Ellen held up her hands, showing she meant no harm. "But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."
"Oh, yeah?" Dean snarked back at her. "How come he never mentioned you before?"
Julia elbowed his bicep, whispering sharply, "Dean!"
He didn't really relax like he usually did; he kept his sharp eyes on Ellen, watching as she shifted uncomfortably.
"You'd have to ask him that."
Dean fell quiet for a second, looking back at Julia with sad eyes. Julia softened the annoyed look on her face and gave him a sympathetic look; he was lashing out because his dad was gone and suddenly there was a lady out of nowhere that knew his dad without him knowing it.
Dean's lips quirked at her before he turned back to Ellen. "So, why exactly do we need your help?"
"Hey, don't do me any favors," Ellen sassed back. "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 trailed off in realization. "He didn't send you. He's all right, isn't he?"
It was quiet for a second before Sam spoke, "No, no he isn't," he told her while Julia took Dean's hand. "It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."
Ellen frowned sadly. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay," Dean told her gruffly as Julia rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. "We're all right."
"Really, I know how close you and your dad were," Ellen said somberly.
"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean bristled, his voice hardening.
Ellen didn't seem to mind his attitude for the moment but that didn't mean that Julia or Sam wanted Dean to continue to make things hostile.
"So, look," Sam changed the topic of conversation. "if you can help, we could use all the help we can get."
"Well, we can't," Ellen glanced at Jo before looking back at Julia, Sam, and Dean. "but Ash will."
Julia furrowed her eyebrows. "Ash?"
Ellen nodded and raised her voice. "Ash!"
The man who was still passed out on the pool table jerked awake, shaking his head—his blonde mullet swishing with every move—before turning around to look at Ellen. "What?" he grunted loudly. "Closing time?"
Julia looked back at Jo, Ellen, and Abby. "That's Ash?"
"Mmhm," Jo nodded while Abby smirked. "he's a genius."
-
Sam dropped the thick file—the one full of information that John and Luke had gathered on the yellow-eyed demon within the past year—on the bar in front of Ash. Julia watched Ash as she sat in between Abby and Sam at the bar, examining his energy—it was full of light with a happy-go-lucky attitude. Meanwhile, Dean stood on the other side of Sam, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at Ash.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean scowled. "This is guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie."
Ash chuckled at Dean. "I like you."
"Thanks."
Julia rolled her eyes at Dean's flat tone while Jo moved from her place at the side of the bar, where she was filling up glasses of water, and brought them over to Sam and Julia.
"Just give him a chance," she advised Dean.
Dean hesitated and Julia caught him looking at her. She pointedly moved her eyes toward Ash and cocked her head only a little but Dean got the gist; he sighed and sat down next to Sam, facing Ash.
"All right," he pushed the file over to Ash. "This stuff is about a year's worth of our dad and Luke Alexander's work. So, uh, let's see what you make of it."
Ash didn't respond to Dean's challenging smirk. Instead, he opened up the file and quickly started sorting through the papers. "Come on," he shook his head. "This shit ain't real. There ain't nobody who can track a demon like this."
"They could," Abby assured Ash while Sam and Dean exchanged a proud look. Ash cocked his head thoughtfully. "My dad is an expert in demons. Runs in the family."
"These are nonparametrics, statistical overviews, cross-spectrum correlations. I mean...damn," Ash said in appreciation. "They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon."
"Like crop failures and electrical storms?" Julia hummed curiously.
Ash looked over at her and winked. "You ever been struck by lightning?" he asked her, a twinkled in his eyes. "It ain't fun."
Seeing the way his brother stiffened, Sam got Ash back on track. "Can you track it or not?"
Ash nodded. "Yeah, with this, I think so but it's gonna take time. Uh, give me..." he paused to think, one of his eyes closing. "uh, fifty-one hours."
Julia smiled appreciatively. "Thanks, Ash."
"No problem, sweetheart," Ash stood from his stool and started heading to the back, where Abby told her the bedrooms were located.
"Hey, man," Dean called after him, voice tense, causing Ash to turn around to face him. Dean faltered, seeing that the man had no true intensions with Julia, "I, uh, dig the haircut."
"All business up front," Ash pointed to the short hair toward the front of his head before flicking the longer hair from his shoulders. "party in the back."
Julia giggled when the door closed behind him. "I like him."
"Ash is, like, a ditzy lab with amazing tech skills," Abby nodded in agreement.
Julia hummed and hopped off her stool. "I'm gonna check out the jukebox."
Abby waved her off and she wandered away from the bar and to the jukebox in the front. She flipped through the tiles, smiling and gasping excitedly when there were a couple of eighties love songs she liked, as a warm hand slid around her waist.
"Find anything good?" Dean asked as he looked down at the jukebox screen.
"A couple," Julia looked up at him with a sweet smile that he returned. "All Out of Love, Faithfully, Can't Fight This Feeling..."
Dean's smile slipped, turning into a small grimace when she listed some of the titles. He was fully aware that Julia liked the cheesy love songs from the previous couple of decades. They were all on her iPod and she played them once in a while when Dean allowed her to pick the music—he didn't like them but he sure did love the way her face light up when she listened to them. Her favorite of the songs was, of course, Hungry Eyes. The girl watched Dirty Dancing every week without fail.
But it was kind of funny to him that she liked Hungry Eyes the most. It described the two of them and their relationship pretty closely. Whenever he looked at Julia, he got hungry eyes—whether it was sexual, loving, or emotional, it didn't matter. He always wanted Julia in every way.
"No Hungry Eyes?" he clicked his tongue, faking his disappointment.
"Nope," she didn't catch onto his acting. "Don't worry, though, I can just sing it. I've been meaning to tell you! I've got this feeling that won't subside—oof!"
Dean had put his hand to her mouth, cutting off any more lyrics that trembled in her not-so-amazing singing voice. He laughed when she giggled and pulled his hand off, kissing his palm before dropping it.
"Oh, so you're ashamed of my singing, huh?"
"Not just your singing, shortcake. I'm not so hot at it, either," Dean reminded her; it was true and if she really got going, he wouldn't be able to resist joining in with her.
He hated to admit it but the song was kind of catchy.
Back at the bar, Sam and Abby—who moved over to Julia's seat—spoke quietly, were catching up. She had just been telling him about the picture Beth emailed her from the Fourth of July, when his gaze fell to the police radio behind the bar, a thin folder beside it. He quickly apologized to Abby for changing the subject and then caught Ellen's attention.
"Hey, Ellen, what is that?"
Ellen followed his gaze. "It's a police thing," she told him, continuing to fill up the containers of salt for the tables. "We keep tabs on things—"
"No, no," Sam interrupted politely, pointing to the file. "The folder."
Ellen hesitated for a second then walked over folder. "Uh, I was gonna give this to Abby..."
"He can take a look at it," Abby smirked, knowing that Sam was terrified of clowns. She took the folder from Ellen and slid it over to Sam. "Let me know what you make of it."
"Thanks," Sam opened the folder as Abby slipped away from the bar to where Jo was wiping off a table.
Sam went through the contents of the file, quickly skimming over each paper he picked up. When he finished, he called out for Dean and Julia, who were still by the jukebox, heads close together as they laughed. "Dean, J, come check this out!"
At the sound of her name, Julia pulled away from Dean and looked over at Sam, who was waving at them from the bar. She ignored Dean's sigh with a light smirk and linked their hands, pulling him over to see what Sam was looking at.
"Yeah?" Dean grumbled.
"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of," Sam informed them, showing them the research. "Looks to me like there might be a hunt."
"Yeah," Dean raised an eyebrow. "So?"
"So, I told her we'd check it out—"
"And you're not going without me," Abby interjected, bounding toward her little sister and the Winchester brothers. "Let me pack my stuff and we can go."
Dean grimaced. "Yeah, let's not—" he grunted when Julia poked him in the ribs, glaring up at him; Abby sent him the same look. "We'll wait outside."
"Good. We'll take my car."
-
"A clown?" Julia clicked her tongue, taking the file that Sam handed back to her and opening it up. "A killer clown?"
"I'm pretty sure that's what I said, Jujube," Abby rolled her eyes from the driver's seat of her Ford Explorer before focusing back on the road. "He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to shreds."
"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asked.
Julia's eyes flickered to the top of the printed article she was reading. "Cooper Carnivals."
"So, Gail, how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"
Abby glared at him through the rearview mirror. "Don't call me that, Deanna."
"Hey, now!"
Julia rolled her eyes and though she couldn't see Sam, she knew he was, too. Abby and Dean were never best friends growing up like she and Sam were. They acted like siblings who couldn't stand one another. It came from love, sure, but it could be a little annoying sometimes.
"The cops have no viable leads, Dean," Sam sighed before they could really get going. "and all the employees were tearing down shop."
"Alibis for each of them."
Sam agreed with Julia while Abby added, "Plus, this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."
Dean hummed. "Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam," he chuckled. "Why did it have to be clowns?"
"That's right!" Abby exclaimed, joining Dean in laughter. "Oh, my God, do you remember that time we went to Mickey D's and Ronald McDonald came out to visit the kid's play place and Sam peed his pants?"
Seeing the severely annoyed look on Sam's face, Julia had the sense to hold in her laughter. Her stomach hurt and her eyes stung but she did it. Dean, however, was howling with gut-bursting laughter. It was nice to see that bright smile on his face.
"After that, he'd burst out crying every time he saw a McDonald's commercial!"
"Oh, come on!" Sam protested weakly; when Julia couldn't help but join in, he shot back, "At least I'm not afraid of flying, or spiders," he pointed at Julia and then Abby. "or horses."
"Planes crash!"
"Spiders are poisonous!"
"Wait, wait," Dean caught up, shaking his head. He leaned forward and dipped to the side so he could see Abby's face from his spot next to Julia. "You're afraid of horses?"
Julia snickered while Abby scoffed. "We were talking about Sam's ridiculous clown phobia, remember?"
Julia shook her head and patted Sam's arm soothingly. "Don't worry, S, your phobia is valid. Apparently clowns do kill."
"Thank you, J," he gave Dean a pointed glare which had his brother chuckling again.
"All right," Dean calmed down. "So, these types of murders, have they ever happened before?"
"It's in the file," Abby told him, turning on the windshield wipers as they drove into some light rain. "Take it away, Julia."
"Yeah, the file says it happened in 1981," Julia hummed. "at the Bunker Brothers Circus. Same M.O. Three different times, three different places."
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. "That's weird, though. I mean, if it is a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know? A house or a town."
"So, how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Sam wondered.
"Maybe it's a cursed object," Abby chewed on her lip. "A spirit attached itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them."
"Great. It's a paranormal scavenger hunt."
"This case was your idea," Dean reminded his brother. "By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."
Julia wrinkled her nose uncomfortably and faced her foggy window. She was all for the brothers sharing how they felt with each other but lately, Dean had been too irritable. He didn't like those kinds of chick-flick moments, anyway, but after his dad died, he'd been avoiding them more than ever. Especially because Sam kept pushing him about dealing with his grief.
Abby kept quiet as well, not wanting to intrude on the brothers' business.
Sam shrugged. "So?"
"It's just not like you, that's all. I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."
"I don't know, I just think this job...it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."
"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean scoffed, looking at Sam in disbelief.
Oh, God, please don't let this turn into another fight, Julia pleaded mentally.
"Yeah, so?" Sam looked back at him, daring him to say something."
Dean shook his head and turned away from his brother. "Nothing."
-
Julia rubbed her nails over Dean's scalp, making sure that the shampoo she had applied for him was getting his hair nice and clean. They struggled in the small shower-bathtub combo and Dean had to get on his knees in order for her to even reach his hair in the first place, but they made it work.
"It's what Dad would have wanted," Dean repeated Sam's words with a scowl, holding onto her hips for balance. "He didn't give a fuck what Dad wanted a week ago."
Julia hummed to show that she was listening as she went toward the front of his head, rubbing the soap into his sideburns.
"He didn't even want to hunt," he went on. "He got out and he said he wanted to get out again! What, Dad dies and now he's wanting to carry on the family business all of a sudden?"
"I don't think that's it, babe. Here, lean your head back," she gestured toward the water; Dean did as he was told and rinsed his hair. "Sam's grieving just like you are. If hunting is what helps him deal with the fact that your dad's gone, then let him."
"I know," Dean grumbled, getting to his feet and switching places with Julia. "No, no, you need to stand—yeah, that's fine—I get it but it just bugs me."
Julia frowned sympathetically and rinsed the conditioner out of her hair. "I'm sorry that you're going through this, Bean."
The corner of Dean's lips quirked only a little. "It's not your fault, shortcake," he murmured, bowing his head to press a soft kiss on her bare shoulder. It wasn't sexual in nature, just loving. "You're helping me."
Her heart melting, Julia grinned when she saw that he had some excess soap on his nose. She stood on her tiptoes to wipe it off. "You're adorable."
"I'm not adorable," he pouted, making her giggle.
"I beg to differ, hotshot."
After Julia and Dean were dried off and dressed, they met up with Sam and Abby in the room next door before heading over to the local fairgrounds, where Cooper Carnivals was located for the week. Detectives were already on the scene when they arrived, forcing them to rethink their plan of faking police.
Dean went to talk to the detectives, so Julia, Sam, and Abby waited by the Tilt-a-Whirl that was being set up. A short woman dressed as a clown had walked by and she and Sam had the most awkward—and hilarious—showdown with their eyes . It lasted what felt like a whole two minutes, with Julia and Abby snickering at Sam, before the woman smirked at him and walked away.
Dean, who was walking back to them, had seen the whole thing. "Did you get her number?"
Sam scowled at him while Julia wheezed, her chest aching from lack of breath. Abby slapped her arm to get her to stop, a cheesy grin on her face, and addressed Dean, "Were there more murders?"
"Two more last night," Dean confirmed. "Apparently they were ripped to shreds and they had a little boy with them."
"Who fingered a clown," Sam assumed.
Julia quirked an eyebrow and shared a look with Dean and Abby.
"What?"
"Nothing," Dean told his brother. "anyway, the clown apparently vanished into thin air."
Abby hummed thoughtfully, biting her lip. "Looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything."
"It's bound to give off EMF," Dean said distractedly, looking around nearest carnival trailers. "We'll just have to scan everything."
"That's nice and inconspicuous."
Dean didn't respond to Sam's sarcasm with any of his own. "I guess we'll just have to blend in."
-
"You boys picked a hell of a time to join up," Mr. Cooper, the owner and boss of Cooper's Carnival, led Sam and Dean into his trailer. It was a tiny little thing with half of it being living space and the other half office space. Mr. Cooper gestured to his desk, where two chairs were waiting on the other side. "Take a seat."
A grin started to stretch across Dean's face as he took in the chairs; one of them, the closest to the door, was decorated to look like a clown. He didn't bother looking at his brother and rushed to the normal chair, pushing Sam away as he attempted to avoid the clown chair.
Dean smirked at Sam as Mr. Cooper finished, "We've got all kinds of local trouble."
"What do you mean?" he turned his attention back to the older man.
"Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered. Cops always seem to start here first," Mr. Cooper said casually. "So, you two ever worked the circuit before?"
"Uh, yes, sir," Sam confirmed solemnly, disturbed by his chair. "Last year through Texas and Arkansas."
Dean gave Mr. Cooper a fake smile. "Yeah."
"Doing what?" Mr. Cooper asked skeptically. "Ride jockeys? Pull shoot? A-and-S men?"
Dean had absolutely no idea what any of those jobs were. He bet that Abby or Julia would know, though. The Petersen women were smart like that. Unfortunately, it wasn't very realistic for four people to apply for jobs together as a group so they had to stay on the sidelines at the moment—Abby wasn't very happy about that.
"Yeah," Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably. "it's, uh, little bit of everything, I guess."
Mr. Cooper cocked his head knowingly. "You two have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?"
"Nope," Dean didn't try to bullshit his way around this. "but we really need the work...oh, and, uh, Sam here's got a thing for the bearded lady."
He chuckled to himself but quieted down when Sam gave him a what-the-fuck-are-you-doing look.
"You see that picture?" Mr. Cooper pointed to a framed photo on the top of the filing cabinet next to his desk. "That's my daddy."
The guy in the photo looked exactly like Mr. Cooper. Too much like him, if you asked Dean.
Sam noticed the likeness, too. "You look just like him."
"He was in the business. Ran a freakshow until they outlawed them in most places," Mr. Cooper informed them. "Apparently displaying the deformed isn't dignified. So most of the performers went from honest work to rotting hospitals and asylums. That's progress, I guess."
Honestly, if Dean was born different like that, he wouldn't do either. Two negative choices on either end didn't sound like a good way of living. Choosing between being laughed at for money or rotting away in a hospital? No, thank you. He was good.
"You see, this place is a refuge for outcasts. Always has been for folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you two?" Mr. Cooper leaned forward in his seat. "You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two-point-five kids. Live regular."
Their lives weren't normal and they would never be. Julia and Sam? They were the lucky spectrum of hunters who had a taste of a normal life. Most of them lived and breathed hunting and that included Dean. He didn't know how to do anything else.
He had a girl and Julia was one of the two most important people in his life. He was lucky to have her because most hunters aren't able to find a significant other who even understood the life, let alone someone who lived it. And kids? He still thought about the dream he had of Peter and Jonah but it was just that—a dream.
Even if he wanted that apple-pie life, it wouldn't happen. It wasn't in the cards for him.
He went to tell Mr. Cooper that but Sam beat him to it. "Sir, we don't want to go to school and we don't want regular. We want this."
Dean looked at Sam in complete shock. Sam had told him before their run-in with Yellow-Eyes and the death of their father that he intended to go back to Stanford when everything was over. Sam didn't want to hunt for the rest of his life, he made that clear. Now, all of a sudden, he didn't want to go back?
Dean stared at the gravel under his feet as he and Sam walked away from Mr. Cooper's trailer, contracts of employment in their pockets. "Huh."
"What?"
"That whole, uh, I-don't-want-to-go-back-to-school thing," Dean gestured to the trailer behind them. "Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?"
Sam hesitated.
"Sam."
"I don't know," Sam looked away from him, looking around at the rides that were now up and running for the day.
"You don't know?" Dean scoffed. "I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."
Sam stopped walking only a few feet from the parking lot where Julia and Abby were waiting for them in the Explorer. "I'm having second thoughts."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I think Dad would have wanted me to stick with the job."
That made Dean pause. Sam had spent most of his life fighting with their dad and had taken off for almost four years, without any contact, and now he wanted to join the family business for good. Just because their dad died. It infuriated Dean that Sam was only now wanted to do what John had wanted him to do. It was too little, too late.
"Since when do you give a fuck what Dad wanted?" his voice hardened as he questioned his brother. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."
"Since he died, okay?" Sam admitted. When Dean nodded knowingly; he must have had an irritated look on his face because Sam bristled. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Nah," Dean lied. "I don't have a problem at all."
He continued walking without another word, heading straight to Abby's vehicle. Julia rolled down the passenger window as he approached and he leaned his arms on it as he greeted them.
"Did you get the job?" she asked him with happy eyes.
He wished that he could maintain a quarter of the happiness that Julia always had within her. Maybe he wouldn't be a dick most of the time. Maybe he'd handle his dad's death better. Maybe he'd be actually able to talk about how he felt instead of keeping it bundled inside of him until he blew up. He wasn't that person, though, and that was okay. Julia was his person and she could be happy enough for the both of them.
"With benefits," he forced a smirk onto his face. "We start at noon."
"Nice," Julia smiled and leaned toward him. "Hey, did you happen to see if they had funnel cakes?"
"What's a carnival without funnel cake, Junior?"
-
-
It was hard to walk around the crowded carnival with full hands and eat funnel cake at the same time but somehow, Julia managed. With a yellow balloon tied around her wrist, a blow-up baseball bat and a small stuffed lion in the crook of her arm, and her cell phone pinned between her ear and shoulder, she was able to stuff the sugary deliciousness into her mouth while keeping an eye out for any suspicious clown activity and keeping in contact with Abby.
Half of Sam and Dean's shift had already gone by and none of them found anything. Sam and Dean had the EMF readers out and going while they picked up trash from the carnival goers but, according to Dean, they had canvased half the fairground and there was zip to show for it.
There was only so much to do at a carnival and Julia had done it all. She rode all the rides, going for the Tilt-a-Whirl and spinning strawberries five or six times, played a bunch of games while only winning twice, and had eaten at three different booths. Don't get her wrong, carnivals were exciting and she loved them as much as the next person but she was by herself after she and Abby split up in the second hour and now, she was growing bored.
"I'm passing the frozen lemonade stand now," Julia informed her sister, who was looking to meet up with her, as she passed the crowded booth.
"The one next to the deep-fried twinkies, the chili dogs, or the turkey legs?"
"Turkey legs—wait, there's deep-fried twinkies?" she wanted one of those. "Where?"
"By the Ferris wheel," Abby told her. "I don't think you need one of those, Jules."
"Sure I do," Julia didn't understand why she didn't need one. She liked snack cakes and if it was deep-fried? All the better. "I'm headed toward the Ferris wheel."
Before she could even turn back the way she came from, a calloused hand grabbed her elbow. She jumped and whirled around, about to drop her prizes and funnel cake to beat the person's ass, but faltered when she saw that it was Dean. He looked so cute dressed in his red carnival jacket.
"Oh, Dean's here," she said to Abby. "I'll call you back."
"Ugh, fine."
Dean grabbed the phone from in between her shoulder and head with a small smile, ending the call for her. "You look like you've been busy," he shoved the phone in his jeans so he could take a piece of her funnel cake. "Having fun?"
"I'm getting bored," she confessed. "Oh, I got you something."
Dean smirked teasingly at her. "Look at that, my girl won me a prize," Julia laughed and handed him the little stuffed lion. "Oh..."
Julia wrinkled her nose as she studied the almost blank look on Dean's face as he held the stuffed lion. "You can put it on your dashboard or, uh..." she hesitated. "or I can take it back if you don't want it."
"Of course I want it," Dean grinned at her and stuffed the lion into his jacket pocket. "I love it."
"You do?"
"Yes," Dean was careful not to jostle her enough so that she could drop her funnel cake or inflatable bat while he pressed his lips to hers quickly. "Thank you."
"You're welcome," Julia gave him another kiss before he could pull away fully. "So, have you found anything yet?"
"I haven't but Sam has," Dean told her. "Apparently there's a human skeleton in the fun house."
Julia raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Any EMF?"
"No, but I was on my way to check when I ran into you," Dean gestured behind him with his thumb before grabbing another piece of her funnel cake. "Wanna head there?"
"Sure," Julia agreed.
Before they could even start walking in the direction of the fun house, they were stopped by Papazian, the blind knife-thrower that had teared into Dean while he was asking for directions for Mr. Cooper's trailer earlier that morning.
"What are you doing here, kid?"
Dean and Julia shared an alarmed look.
"I'm...I was just, uh, sweeping and taking my break," Dean struggled to answer him.
"Bull," Papazian wasn't having Dean's nonsense. "And what were you two talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?"
Julia furrowed her eyebrows while Dean looked at him in surprise, "Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control."
"Hey, we're a tight-knit group, we don't like outsiders," Papazian proclaimed. "And we take care of our own problems."
Julia stiffened when she felt the man's aura pulse angrily and darken drastically. Something was off about him.
Dean sized him up, finding an issue of what Papazian did say, rather than what he didn't. "We got a problem?"
Another flare of anger.
"You tell me, you're the one talking about human bones."
Dean hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"
"What?"
"My brother, me, and our girlfriends—" Abby would get a kick out of that, Julia was sure. "—we're writing a book about them."
Papazian seemed to except that and went on his way. Julia stared after him, not liking his aura or the vibes he was giving off. He certainly didn't feel like a normal human being; he was dark and had a severe hunger.
Without noticing, she and Dean ended up at the funhouse, where Sam and Abby were waiting for them.
"What took you so long?" Sam asked Dean.
Dean grimaced. "Long story."
"Mommy, look at the clown!" a chirpy voice that could only belong to a little girl came from only a few feet away from them.
They all turned their attention to her, watching as the mom questioned where the clown was and when the little girl pointed to nothing, she hurried her daughter toward the parking lot. Once they were gone, Julia, Dean, Abby, and Sam exchanged knowing looks.
-
Julia finished typing her email to Beth, giving her a brief summary of how the boys were dealing with John's death and making sure to include video of her and Abby that told her, Taylor, Lizzie, and Maggie that they missed them. Once the email was sent, she started looking up supernatural creatures that dressed up as clowns.
She didn't think this was a spirit for two reasons. One, Sam and Dean had found no EMF, even on the skeleton from the fun house. And, two, something about Papazian gave her a bad feeling. Like worse than a common spirit usually did.
She shared her thoughts with Abby, who had stayed behind with her when Sam and Dean went to watch the little girl's house—in a totally not creepy way—and was currently cleaning her weapons on her and Sam's bed.
"All right, tell me again—"
"I told you, Abby," Julia rolled her eyes and looked away from her laptop. "I had a bad feeling about Papazian."
"So, what, you're Luke Skywalker now?" her older sister joked; Julia gave her an unamused look. "Okay, sorry. So, if you think that Papazian is behind this people-eating clown, what do you suppose it is?"
Julia grimaced. "Honestly, I was hoping you would know."
Abby shook her head with a laugh and climbed off her bed to settle next to Julia on hers. "Let me show you something."
Abby grabbed the computer from her pajama-clad lap and onto hers. She went to PSC's website and went to the employee section. That led them to another site where she maneuvered her way to a page where one of the links under IT tech brought them to a private website that they had to use a username and passcode to get in. It was that website that amazed Julia.
Similarly set up to PSC's website, this one had hunting items for sale like silver bullets and particular knives that a hunter might need and so on. There was a forum where hunters could post information that they've come across on hunts or if they needed a partner for a hunt, they could search there. And there was an online encyclopedia that was Julia's favorite, where each letter in the alphabet had sections that would list creatures under that letter and could lead you to more information.
She had no idea that the website had ever existed.
"How do I get in?" Julia asked. "Like, how do I get my own username and password?"
"I'll give Frank a call and have him add you, Dean, and Sam," Abby said casually. "He's the IT guy where you get the link."
"He works for us?" the picture of Frank made him seem like a very grumpy man who didn't play well with others.
"Kind of. He runs this site and he makes sure it's secure but he's pretty much a recluse," she hummed. "I think he knew Nana Rachel and Papa Isaac."
"Huh," Julia's maternal grandmother, Rachel, had died before she was born but her Papa Isaac was a great man. He was gone now, having died only a few years before her mother went.
Abby laughed lightly, rolling her eyes at her younger sister. "All right," she moved off of Julia's bed and went back to hers, starting up her own laptop. "Let's start narrowing down possibilities."
-
-
The sun had finally risen after two hours of hiding in a stolen car in the middle of nowhere, covered by a thicket of bushes so the police wouldn't be able to spot them. Their whole night blew; the mysterious apocalyptic clown had turned out not to be a spirit and it had definitely gotten away when the little girl screamed at their attack, alerting her parents to the fact that two strange men and a murderous clown were in their house.
They had run out quickly after that and had found a spot just out of town to stay hidden until dawn. Luckily, Dean wasn't left alone with Sam—well, he was but they were also on the phone with Julia and Abby in order to find out what this clown really was. All they knew so far was that the creature was corporeal, wasn't affected by salt, and could make itself invisible. So, thankfully, there was no talking of any kind about the death of John Winchester.
Unfortunately, now that Sam and Dean were beginning their trek heading back to the outskirts of town so that Julia and Abby could pick them up, they had plenty of time to talk. Unluckily enough for Dean, Sam did just that.
"Hey, uh, you think that Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
Dean was in no mood to talk about his dad—even if it wasn't about the subject of his death. It was hot out, the sun was searing the back of his neck, he was tired, and he was definitely hungry. The last thing he wanted to do was theorize about his father's flings.
"Nah."
"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out."
That was something that John was actually consistent about; he always fell out with other hunters—Bobby wasn't the only one and if John was still alive, he certainly wouldn't be the last.
"Yeah," Sam sighed. "You ever notice how Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"
Dean nodded his head noncommittedly. There wasn't a need to answer. They both knew it was the truth and there wasn't a reason to hash out the fact that their father was a stubborn asshole who always thought that he was right.
Just thinking of John that way—even though he had those kinds of thoughts a lot while he was alive—made him nauseous. His dad was dead and here he was, thinking bad of him. This was why he didn't want to think about John. Because there was too much to think about. If he thought about how his dad treated him while he grew up, or how he didn't have a childhood because of him—or how he missed out on so much in life, the suspicion around his restored health just before his dad died, or about the last words John said to him—he would break down. And he couldn't. He wasn't that person.
He wouldn't be that person.
Sam noticed his melancholy mood. "Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."
Dean shot him a look. "What do you mean?"
"I meant this strong-silent thing of yours. It's crap and I'm over it—"
"Oh, God," Dean expressed his irritation before Sam was finished speaking.
"This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad," Sam said, annoyed. "I know how you felt about the man."
"You know what, back off, all right?" Dean snapped at him. "Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to—"
"No, no, no," Sam objected, cutting him off. "that's not what this about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this but you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."
Dean clenched his jaw. "Dude, I'm okay!" he raised his voice. "I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches. These are your issues, quit dumping them on me."
Sam stopped walking and turned to Dean with a bewildered look. "What are you talking about?"
"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad," Dean shot straight, unable to hold back his opinion of Sam's change of heart. "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, fuck, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him."
Sam grimaced and yeah, Dean felt a little guilty about his heated words but if Sam wanted him to share his feelings, he was going to do it.
"And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right?" he continued. "Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late."
Sam's hazel eyes sparkled with tears. "Why are you saying this to me?"
"Because I want you to be honest with yourself!" Dean exclaimed. "I'm dealing with Dad's death. Are you?"
Sam pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw, obviously fighting back the anger he felt at Dean. Dean wished that he wouldn't; maybe he wanted to get Sam mad, wanted him to fight back. Maybe physical pain would take his attention away from all that he was feeling.
"I'm going to call Abby," Sam finally said.
It was only when Sam had slumped away from him that Dean started to feel guilty. This was his little brother; he was supposed to protect him, not make him feel worse.
Twenty minutes later, he and Sam were sliding into the backseat of Abby's car, relaxing as cool air surrounded them. Without a word, Julia—who was taking the opportunity to sit shotgun—had handed them each a breakfast sandwich and some hash browns. Of course, it was McDonalds; Dean wasn't a fan of them but Julia loved their breakfast, especially the sausage, egg, and cheese bagel. He wasn't surprised to see that she had her bagel sandwich in her lap.
He smiled at her in thanks and immediately took a bite of his own sandwich.
"All right, so, I'm pretty sure this thing is a rakshasa," Abby spoke up as she started driving back to town.
"What's that?" Dean asked around a mouthful of food.
"It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures," she told him and Sam. "They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited."
"So, they dress up like clowns and the children invite them in," Sam assumed.
Both Abby and Julia nodded in response.
"Why don't they just munch on the kids?"
"No idea," Abby sighed, answering Dean's question. "Maybe there's not enough meat on their bones."
"Abby," Julia gave her sister a disapproving look, her face paling a little.
Abby shrugged nonchalantly.
"So, what else did you find out?" Sam wondered.
"Apparently, rakshasas live in squalor," Julia answered this time, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "They sleep on a bed of dead insects. And they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years."
"That makes sense," Dean nodded. "I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81."
Sam agreed, "Right, and probably more before that."
"All right," Dean clicked his tongue and looked toward the front of the car. "So, did the lore say how to kill this bastard?"
"A dagger made of pure brass," Abby smirked, tapping her fingers against her steering wheel, the red polish on her nails gleaming brightly in the sunlight. "Luckily, I have one in my collection."
"Good," Dean said decidedly. "Let's go gank the blind guy."
-
-
Julia didn't particularly like being in a bar full of other hunters. Something about it just made her stomach twist. Maybe it was because she hadn't worked with other hunters except Sam, Dean, Abby, John, and her father...or maybe it was because of the leering looks they gave Jo as she wandered around, giving them the pints of beer that they ordered. Honestly, she felt bad for the blonde; she had been on the receiving end of disgusting leers but never everyday all day. It had to be tiring.
Jo was a spitfire, though, and she could totally handle herself. That was what Julia liked the most about her, other than the fact that she was funny and easily kept up with Abby's banter. Abby wasn't the type to settle down with a boyfriend or girlfriend, but if she did, Jo had Julia's vote. The blonde was special and so was Ellen. They'd fit into the family great.
Ellen came over to her with a bottle of beer and a glass of soda in her hands just as the familiar weight of Dean's arm slid around her waist. He sat on the bar stool next to her and accepted the beer from Ellen with a grateful smile.
"You guys did one hell of a job," the older woman praised one half of their quartet.
Julia smiled at her and accepted her cola. "Thanks, Ellen."
Ellen backed off with a smile and went to dry some glasses. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean turned to her with a mischievous grin on his face. "I think your sister is chatting up Sam."
"Oh?" Julia gave him an excited look, though it was more for his benefit. She didn't really know how to feel about Abby and Sam hooking up. It wasn't because she didn't think they wouldn't make a great pair but Abby was a player and she didn't want her sister to hurt Sam, who was more emotionally intense when it came to stuff like that.
Dean nodded excitedly. "And I don't think she's the only one."
Julia gave him a confused look and glanced over his shoulder; at the other side of the bar, Sam sat with Abby and Jo on either side of him, both wearing flirtatious smiles.
Oh.
Julia coughed uncomfortably and placed her attention back on Dean, who still had that shit-eating grin on his face. "It's very weird that you're so excited about Sam's possible hook-ups."
Dean shrugged. "It's good to see him get back on the horse—or horses—heh-heh."
"Please don't refer to Abby and Jo as horses, D."
"Sorry," Dean shrugged, his eyes locking on the door that led to the resident area of the bar. "Look, there's Ash."
Ash walked over to them and set his laptop on the bar next to them. "Jules, Dean," he nodded at them and waved Sam over; Sam excused himself from Abby and Jo. "Where have you guys been? I've been waiting for ya."
"We were working a job, Ash," Sam came to stand behind Julia. "Clowns."
Ash gave him a you-have-to-be-shitting-me look. "Clowns? What the fuck?"
"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean asked before he could go on a tangent.
Ash nodded and opened up his laptop, which was stripped down to wires, the hard drive, keypad, and screen. Julia guessed that he had built the computer himself because she was pretty sure you couldn't buy one of those. Jo did say he was a genius.
"Did you find the demon?" Sam asked.
"It's nowhere around," Ash answered gravely. "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."
Julia quirked an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world, my rig will go off," Ash explained and turned the laptop, showing them the screen; there was some type of radar and database pulled up. "Like a fire alarm."
Dean's eyes lit up as he looked over the computer; he reached for it and Ash stiffened, cocking his head. "Do you mind...?"
Ash clicked his tongue and the hand that Dean had almost put on the mouse slowly retreated.
"What's up, man?" Ash lifted his chin in a swift nod.
Julia grinned at Dean's pout while Sam asked, "Ash, where did you learn to do all of this?"
"MIT, before I got bounced for fighting," Ash answered casually.
Sam quietly scoffed in disbelief. "MIT?"
Ash nodded. "It's a school in Boston."
"I like you, Ash," Julia laughed as she reached for a high five from the genius blonde. "You're the best."
Ash returned the high-five sluggishly, though the crooked grin on his face gave away his friendliness. "You too, sweetcheeks."
"Okay," Dean said all too quickly. "give us a call as soon as you know something?"
"Si, si, compadre," Ash confirmed, taking Dean's bottle from in front of him and gulping down the rest.
The three of them got ready to leave. As Julia paid their tab, Ellen spoke up, "If you guys need somewhere to stay, we've got a couple of rooms in the back."
Dean exchanged looks with Julia and Sam before answering, "Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish."
Hours later, as the sun set, Dean was crouched down in front of the back-right tire of his baby, tightening the bolts of the new tire until they were just right. When he heard the gravel shift to his right, he didn't bother looking up. He knew it was Sam just from the gait of his steps.
Great, he grumbled to himself, another pep talk.
He finished with the tire and only then did he look up; Sam was standing behind the newly restored trunk, kind of huddled in on himself.
"You were right."
Dean stood up straight and walked around Sam in order to set his wrench back in the toolbox. "About what?"
"About me and Dad," Sam elaborated. "I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him."
Dean didn't respond; he had nothing to say.
"So, you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little, too late," Sam paused for a moment, his eyes filling with tears. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all...But neither are you, that much I know...I'll let you get back to work."
Sam left and headed back into Bobby's house. Dean turned around, a mess of emotions brewing at the bottom of his stomach. It built and it built until it rested in his chest. There was anger and hurt and resentment, and oh-so much grief...And all of it was because of his dad.
His dad, who treated him like a little soldier. His dad, who taught him how to shoot a gun when he was way too young. His dad, who left his baby brother in his care when he was only five years old. His dad, who made him grow up much too soon. His dad, who made him feel safe even when there were beings that came out of his nightmares living in the world around him. His dad, who loved him and Sam so much. His dad, who was dead.
His dad was dead.
He hastily picked up the crowbar next to his toolbox and whipped around, slamming it into the driver's window of an old car behind him. Glass shattered onto his lower torso, legs, and feet but he didn't care. It wasn't enough, it wasn't enough to describe how he was feeling.
He smashed the crowbar into Baby's trunk; it bounced but didn't budge or break. He did it again and again, over and over, as his anger exploded from him like a bomb. At the moment, he didn't care that he was trashing his beloved car all over again; the Impala just reminded him too much of his dad.
His blood was pumping, he was sweating profusely, and tears had sparked in his eyes as he bashed Baby's trunk until there was a decently sized hole in the middle. Only then did he drop the crowbar, where it made it tinkling sound against the gravel. He turned in the direction of Bobby's house, as if Sam would be able to feel his angry glare from where he was standing, but he came face-to-face with Julia.
His beautiful Julia. Julia, who had been understanding throughout the week since John's death, letting him fuck his frustration out on her. Julia, who had been good about giving him space to deal with his grief. Julia, who was the sunshine in his dark and cloudy mind. Julia Ruth Petersen, who was too fucking good for him.
And there she stood, a small smile on her face that felt like home. There was love and understanding in her eyes as she waited for him to do something, anything, but it made his stomach turn. She was good and he wasn't. He would just bring her down.
He was poison; his dad dying had proved that.
So, even though Julia there, waiting to support him and love him, he walked away from her.
(Gif is not mine)
19 notes
·
View notes