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artyandink · 10 months ago

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we could be more | dean winchester | 2

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

EVERYBODY LOVES A CLOWN

NOW PLAYING: TEARS OF A CLOWN - IRON MAIDEN

I walked up to Sam and Dean, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry ‘bout your dad. I’ve got my clothes in here, so I’ll change quickly.”

“Alright.” Dean opened the door to my car, giving me a wink. “Sam and I’ll block the windows.” I climbed into it, putting on a black dress and heels before getting out.

Dean whistled. “Lookin’ pretty, Beanie.”

“Beanie?” I raised an eyebrow, and so did Sam.

“She wears a beanie. Beanies are adorable and so is she. So I’m callin’ her Beanie.”

“I can’t win.” I groaned. “Let’s just go, you don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah, we don’t.” Sam scowled at Dean as we got back into the car, Dean punished by sitting in the backseat while I rode shotgun.

“I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like I’m some bad omen.” I frowned, but was waved off by Sam.

“No, no. If anything, you helped.”

“You saved my life, Beanie, I owe you a lot for that.” Dean piped up.

“Will you stop calling me Beanie?” I asked, hopeful.

“No chance.”

“Worth a shot.” We spent the rest of the road in silence until we pulled up at a location with everyone dressed in black, and there was a funeral pyre. This was John Winchester’s funeral. I, at first, insisted on not going, but Sam and Dean insisted that I’d come along. I stood in silence, thanking the stars that the second funeral I’d been to had been without my empathic abilities. I couldn’t feel anything, and it was bliss.

“Before he.. before, did he say anything to you? About anything?” Sam asked Dean, who looked down.

“No.. no. Nothing.” He replied monotonously, and I looked between the two before enjoying the absence of overwhelming emotions.

Sam nudged me, taking me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just in thought.” I replied quietly, watching the pyre burn.

“I-I can’t take much more of this.” Dean groaned, walking off. We followed him to the Impala, where he handed me my clothes, so I went to the nearest bathroom and changed, coming back out while fixing my scarf.

“Alright, what now?” I asked, fixing my hair.

“Home?” Dean shrugged. “Though I need to get my Impala.”

“Let’s take my car, then, and spend a bit at my place before we get your car.” I offered. “Then we can tow the Impala out to my house. I’ve got quite a few tools there you can use.”

“Sounds like a privilege, Beanie.” Dean grinned to Sam, going shotgun. “See? I knew we should’ve kept her with us.”

“Thanks, Ivonne.” Sam whispered in my ear, and I patted his shoulder.

“Please.” I scoffed. “You two are helping me live. Lunch is an understatement.” I opened my car door, getting in. “There’s a good cafe where I can get us lunch. Wanna make a pit stop there?”

“That would be good, yeah.” Sam nodded. I put my foot down on the pedal, playing music while I drove.

“Got some water?” Dean asked, so I gave him a fresh bottle from the side pocket. He sipped it intently. “I love a girl who can drive-“

”Drink your water.” I laughed, turning the wheel while Sam snickered in the back.

“Tell him, Ivonne.” He grinned. “He needs it.”

“Sammy, be nice.” Dean chastised playfully, then turned to me. “When did you start hunting?”

”As soon as I developed magic abilities, which was at 19.” I replied. “Roommate of mine had a vengeful spirit after them. Conveniently, they showed up so I could destroy it.”

“Sounds like a ride.” Sam commented.

“You have no idea.” I laughed. I pulled up at a cafe, parking quickly. I checked myself in the mirror quickly, arranging my hair to look, well, better.

“Who’re you preening for?” Dean scoffed, re-popping his collar and sorting out his hair.

“Who’re you preening for?” I retorted.

“I asked first. Is there a guy in there?”

“Hot barista.” I grinned, taking out a lip gloss and applying it. “He went to my high school.” I opened the car door, getting out and both of them following suit.

“So you’re taken?” Dean joked.

“Dean.” Sam groaned.

“It’s a serious question!”

“Hopefully I will be.” I teased. “Maybe then you’ll get off my back.”

“Kind of hard to do, sweetheart.” Dean winked, giving me the fifth once-over of the day. We went into the cafe, and the barista at the counter smirked once he saw me. His name was Alex, and he had messy brown hair with startling blue eyes, and he was visibly well-built. I walked over to the counter, and he chuckled.

“Ivonne… Hazel… Rainer.” He laughed. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen you.”

“Alex Wilde.” I smiled. “I could say the same for you.”

I heard some movement behind me, and Alex’s eyes flickered to Dean and Sam. “Who’re these two? Bodyguards?”

He hit the nail on the head. I giggled, shaking my head. “I wish I was famous enough for bodyguards. This is Sam and Dean.”

“Nice to meet you.” Sam shook Alex’s hand. “I’m Sam.”

“And I’m Dean.” Dean also shook Alex’s hand, a small smirk on his face.

“Alex.” Alex grinned, then turned to me. “Your usual?”

“You know it.” I smiled.

“And you guys?”

“I’ll take a latte.” Sam spoke up.

“I’ll have what the lady’s having.” Dean nodded to me, flashing his signature smirk again.

“Alright, I’ll get that to y’all.” Alex nodded, and we sat down. Dean raised an eyebrow, scoffing as he nodded towards Alex.

“Him? Really?”

“Yes, him.” I shot back.

“He seems nice.” Sam contradicted.

“Exactly!”

“Seems like a wimp.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Dean, be nice.” Sam chastised.

“I’m saying that Beanie can do better than a barista.”

“A hot barista.” I retorted.

“You can’t argue with that logic.” Sam whistled.

Dean just shook his head.

I opened the door to my house, letting the boys in and taking off my shoes.

“Sweet joint.” Dean praised while Sam picked up salt from the edge of the room.

“This is where you got your powers taken from you, right?” He deduced, and I nodded, then turned to Dean, who was about to head to the kitchen. I snapped my fingers.

“Hey, ay, ay!” I called, getting his attention. “Shoes off past that point.”

“Really?” He groaned, turning to me.

“Shoes. Off.” I glared at him for a moment, then he conceded, taking his shoes off. Sam did too for good measure, both of them lining it up neatly. I took a piece of paper, writing on it then sticking it above the doorway.

SHOES OFF PAST THIS POINT IF YOU WANNA LIVE :)

- Ivy

”Really, Beanie?” Dean grimaced. “It’s that necessary?”

“My house, my rules.”

“My shoes, my rules.”

“My house is bigger and more expensive.” I mimicked a mic drop, “I’ve got two spare bedrooms so you boys don’t have to suffer sharing the same bed. Settle down, and after a week we’ll go to the impound.”

“Who put you in charge?” Dean argued.

“Common sense did.” I replied smoothly as I walked into the kitchen.

”I gotta say,” Sam quipped, “I agree with common sense.” Dean narrowed his eyes.

“Which side are you on?!”

We were forward a week, and we’d reached the impound where Dean’s car was stationed. It looked, well, better than before, and Sam was awkwardly standing over him. I think that the prospect of John’s death really hit Dean like a bullet train, because he got grumpier and grumpier as the week went. I guess the momentary laughs were just denial.

“How's the car coming along?” Sam asked, looking down on Dean’s legs, which were the only thing you could see with his torso under the car.

“Slow.” Dean replied coldly. Ouch.

”Yeah? Need any help?”

“What?” He laughed. “You, under a hood? I’ll pass.”

“Need anything else, then?”

“Stop it, Sam.” Dean pushed himself out from under the car, looking agitated. Something seemed to pull a nerve there.

”Stop what?” Sam asked, looking confused.

“Stop asking if I need anything, stop asking if I'm okay. I'm okay. Really. I promise.”

“All right, Dean, it's just... We've been at Ivonne’s for over a week now and you haven't brought up Dad once.”

”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.” Dean scoffed. I frowned, folding my arms.

“Don't patronise me, Dean, Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened.” Sam pleaded.

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! 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.”

“Revenge, huh?” Dean nodded sceptically, jaw ticking.

“Yeah.”

“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? Is I can work on the car-“

“Just shut the hell up!” I burst out, slapping my forehead. “I’ve had enough of this, I really have. The tension here is thick enough for me to take a knife and stab right through it. Sam, reflect. Dean, we need to talk.” I took Dean by the collar, dragging him away from Sam while he feebly protested.

“Hey, hey, watch the collar!” He finally swatted my hand away, popping his collar again and then folding his arms. “What?”

“You need to cut the attitude, cause you’re acting like a douche.” I frowned, folding my own. “Your dad died-“

“Yeah, my dad died. What about it?”

“You’re acting strong, Dean.” I sighed. “You’re a stubborn person, I know that, but it doesn’t change the fact that you’re hurting. But so is your brother.”

Dean scoffed, “I’m not hurting-“

“Yes, you are.” I insisted, raising my eyebrows. “It’s so obvious and I know it’s hard to deal, but you can’t shut Sam out like that. He needs your help, even if you don’t realise it.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.” Dean’s eyes narrowed and suddenly I had no voice. I looked down, remaining silent, and he gently took my shoulders, bending down and trying to get me to look at him. “Who died, Ivonne? Talk to me.”

“It’s not important.” I muttered, then turned and walked over to Sam. “He’s gonna be better, I think.”

“Thanks, Ivonne, I…” Sam paused for a moment, “I’ve just never seen him like this and it’s scaring me a bit.”

“I don’t blame you.” I sighed. “He’s acting up and it’s not okay, but he’s visibly hurt by this. I’m gonna try and be there for him and so should you. Even if he doesn’t let you.”

“Makes sense.”

“So,” I spread my arms, “bring it in.” He hugged me tightly, and I patted his back. “It’s gonna be ok, Sam.” We detached, “Now show me whatcha got.”

“This is one of dad's old phones.” He took out a battered phone. “Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this.”

“Wait-“ I turned, “DEAN! GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!” Dean walked over, and Sam played the voicemail.

‘John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me.’

“That message is four months old.” Sam frowned.

“Dad saved that chick's message for four months?” Dean blinked.

“Yeah.”

”Well, who's Ellen, for starters?” I asked. “Any mention of her in John’s journal?”

“No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address.”

“Let’s take my car.” I offered, holding up my keys.

“Sounds like a plan.” Dean agreed.

We approached the Roadhouse Saloon, with Dean at the wheel this time, and he smoothly parked in front. We got out, looking around cautiously.

“Hello?” Sam called, “Anybody here?”

”They will be here soon.” I hissed.

“Just checking!”

“Hey. You bring the, uh…” Dean held out his hand, and Sam searched his pockets.

“Yeah.” He tossed a pickpocketing tool to Dean, who quickly opened the door to the saloon. We crept in, eyes darting around. A light bulb blew out, and there was a man passed out at the bar.

“Hey, buddy?” Sam whispered, and I chuckled.

“I’m guessing that’s not Ellen.” I quipped with a smirk. I went behind the bar, searching for someone. Then I heard a click, a smack and Dean calling out for help.

“Sam! Sammy! I need some help!”

“My hands are tied too.” Sam replied, and I pulled out my gun, flicking down the safety pin. I raised it, moving into the room behind the woman holding a gun to Sam’s head.

“Mine aren’t.” I growled, alerting both the attackers. “Drop your guns and let them go or you’ll both be on the floor faster than you can say ‘hands up’.”

“Wait…” Dean’s attacker popped out from behind him, her eyes widening when she saw me. She had long blonde hair, brown eyes and the most recognisable style I have ever seen. Nobody wears a green tank top and mom jeans and pulls it off that well. “Ivvy?”

“Jo?” I half-laughed, half-exhaled as we both realised who we were dealing with. We stored our guns in our pockets, hugging each other tightly.

“I’m so glad you’re here!”

”I’m so glad I’m here, trust me.”

“I’m confused.” Dean whispered.

“They know each other, Dean.” Sam hissed.

”Should have done a degree in stating the obvious, Sammy.”

”Sam? Dean? Winchester?” Ellen questioned, looking between the two.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded.

“Son of a…”

“Mom, do you know these guys?” Jo asked, detaching herself from me.

“I think these are John Winchester’s boys.”

“They are.” I nodded.

Ellen laughed, lowing her handgun. “Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo.”

Dean flashed his signature smirk at Jo, who smiled back. “Hey.” He grinned.

“Hey.” She replied, looking bashful.

“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?”

”Here you go.” Ellen offered Dean a towel with ice, which he accepted.

“Thanks.”

“Good one. I’ve been waiting to do that.” I whispered to Jo, who giggled.

”You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?”

“Well, the demon, of course. I heard he was closing in on it.” Ellen said candidly.

“What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?” Dean scoffed. “I mean, who-who are you? How do you know about all this?”

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

“Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you?”

“You’d have to ask him that.”

“So why exactly do we need your help?”

“Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your butt on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if...” She trailed off, eyes widening, “he didn’t send you. He's all right, isn't he?“

“No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think.” Sam stammered. “It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok. We’re ok.” Dean coughed.

“No, he is not.” I muttered.

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

“Really, lady, we’re fine.” Dean growled through gritted teeth.

“‘Course you are.” I tutted.

“Ivonne.”

“So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get.” Sam pleaded.

“Well, we can't.” Ellen stated. “But Ash will.”

“Who’s Ash?” I blinked.

“ASH!” The sleeping man at the bar woke up, flailing his arms.

“I’m up, I’m up! Is it closing time?” Ash slurred.

“That’s Ash?” Sam coughed.

“Delightful.” I grimaced.

”Mhmm. He’s a genius.” Jo convinced, but I wasn’t as much as she was. She started pouring glasses of water, while Ellen slapped a folder on the table. Sam sat down, leaving Dean and I to stand.

“You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius.” Dean groaned. “He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie.”

“Shut your pie hole.” I snapped.

“I like you.” Ash chuckled, pointing to me.

”Thanks.”

“Just give him a chance.” Jo sighed. Dean resigned, sitting down.

“All right.” Dean cleared his throat. “This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it.”

“Come on. This stuff ain't real.” Ash scoffed. “There ain't nobody can track a demon like this.”

“Their dad could.” I retorted.

“There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean.. damn!” Ash exclaimed. “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 lightning? It ain't fun.”

“Can you track it or not?” Sam groaned.

“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…” Ash clicked his tongue, “fifty one hours.” He then got up to leave.

”Hey, man?” Dean piped up.

“Yeah?”

“I, uh, dig the haircut.” It was an odd haircut, I’ll give him that.

“All business up front, party in the back.” He left, and I turned to Ellen.

“It’s nice to see you again, Ivvy.” Ellen smiled, passing me a beer.

“Same to you, El.” I grinned. “Haven’t felt this at home in ages.”

“How’re you feeling after Danny?” She asked, and I kissed my teeth, thinking.

“Better than I was. Until the Devil took my powers.”

“He did what?!” She slammed the table. “Evil little son of a-“

“Ok, ok!” I chuckled, “It’s fine. I’m survivin’.”

“He shouldn’t.” Ellen growled. “I remember when you were just a girl. Sweetest thing I’ve ever met. These powers corrupted you, but that demon’s going to do worse.”

“Yeah, I get that.” I sighed, looking down.

“I think Jo’s free from Dean, go catch up.” I immediately got up, going over to Jo and hugging her again.

“What’s this about your powers gone?” She asked, and I showed her the rune.

“Gone until the demon dies or I find a ‘drop of love’.” I scoffed.

“What’s that?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“I’m sure you will.” She patted my shoulder. “By the way, this Dean pal of yours was flirting with me.”

“Pay no attention to him.” I laughed. “He does that with me too. He puts on a Jerry Maguire act for nothing.”

“He’s that kind of guy, got it.” She giggled.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mess with him if I were you.” I joked.

”Hey, Beanie!” Dean called, and I whipped around.

“What?” I snapped back.

“Beanie?” Jo whisper-giggled.

”Short story.”

“C’mere!” Dean yelled again, and I walked over to the two.

“Whaddya want from me?” I groaned, sitting down.

“Very courteous, Beanie.”

“Forgive me, Your Majesty.” I drawled. “Sammy, what’re we doing?”

“Murders, not far from here.” Sam replied, showing me the file.

“Well, we should probably check that out.” I clicked my tongue.

“That’s what I told Ellen we’d do.”

“You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?” Dean groaned as he drove my Chevrolet Corvette, Sam in the back with me with the case.

“Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually.” Sam exhaled sharply.

“And this family was at some carnival that night?”

“Right, right. Uh, the Cooper Carnivals.”

“So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?”

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

“Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam.” Dean smirked. “Why did it have to be clowns?”

”Oh, give me a break.” Sam groaned.

“You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still burst out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television.”

“At least I’m not afraid of flying.”

“Planes crash!”

“And apparently clowns kill!”

“And so will I in a second!” I cut in, silencing them both.

“I’d rather take the plane.” Dean gulped.

“And me the clown.” Sam whispered.

“Thank you.” I smiled briefly. “So these types of murders, did they ever happen before?”

“Uh, a-according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales.” Sam stammered.

“It's weird, though, I'm mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house, or a town.” Dean frowned, so I pulled a book out of my satchel, flicking through.

“So how’s this one travelling?”

“Cursed object, perhaps.” I shrugged, “Spirit attaches itself to something and the carnival carries it around with them. Unlikely, but plausible.”

”Great, paranormal scavenger hunt.” Sam grimaced.

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

”So?”

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

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

“What Dad would’ve wanted?”

“Yeah? So?” Sam sassed.

“Nothin’.”

Geez.

We pulled up at the carnival, where the police already were.

“Watch out.” Dean whistled. “Five-o’s.”

”You’ll be fine.” I assured. “Don’t make a scene, keep your head down and keep walking.”

”Knowing Dean, that’s not gonna happen.” Sam grimaced as we all got out of the car.

“Ever since she came, you two have been ganging up on me.” Dean grumped.

“That’s cause I finally get to have a conversation with someone who has common sense.”

”I’m proud not to have common sense, Sammy. I own my flaws.”

”Never say that again.” I laughed.

“Try me, Beanie.” Dean smirked, whipping my beanie off my head and jamming it onto his own. Sam ran his fingers through my hair a bit, tidying it up, and I gave him a small smile, combing my fingers in the same direction. A three-foot tall clown went by, and Sam stared at it, nervous, and she stared back as well before walking into the distance. “Did you get her number?”

Sam scowled, looking like a six year old. “More murders?”

“Twice recently.” I explained. “Ripped to shreds, and a little boy survived, and he was with them.”

“Who fingered a clown.” Sam finished, getting a weird look from Dean. “What?”

“So, a clown who just apparently vanished into thin air.” Dean raised an eyebrow.

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

“It’s going to give off EMF.” I mused.

“So we’ll just scan everything.” Dean added optimistically.

“Oh, good, that's nice and... inconspicuous.” Sam sighed.

“We can blend in.” I smirked, gesturing to the ‘Help Wanted’ sign conveniently placed near us. We ventured inside, spotting a man with sunglasses throwing knives on a target, but they didn’t quite hit bullseye.

“Excuse me, we're looking for a Mr. Cooper, have you seen him around?” Dean asked him, and the man turned around.

“Is that some kinda joke?” He took off his sunglasses, and his eyes had cataracts. Oh damn, he was blind.

”Oh. God, I'm-I'm sorry.”

“You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper? Or a sunset, or anything at all?” The blind man growled.

“Wanna give me some help here?” Dean whispered to Sam.

“No, not really.” Sam whispered back.

“Hey man, is there a problem?” A short guy appeared, looking up at Dean with a suspicious expression.

Trouble’s coming.

I draped my hair over one shoulder, undid a few of my top buttons, took a tube of lip gloss and touched up my makeup. I dumped my scarf on Sam, who gave me a questioning look.

“Yeah, this guy hates blind people.” The blind man grumbled.

”Do you have a problem?” The man asked Dean.

Dean chuckled nervously. “No, it’s just a little misunderstanding.”

“Little?! Son of a-“

“Come on, boys, let’s not fight.” I interrupted, gaining the three men’s attention.

“Who’s she?” Blind man barked. “She sounds pretty.”

“She is pretty.” Short man replied with a smirk.

“I’m flattered.” I laughed, faking it. God, this was demeaning. “Now, my friends and I don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for Mr Cooper. D’you know where to find him?”

“Follow me, sweetheart.” We followed the short man, and Dean regrouped with Sam and I.

“What the hell?” Dean whispered. “I’m trying to make amends for accidentally offending someone and you just pout your lips?”

“Perks of being a woman.” I smirked, patting Dean’s shoulder. “It’s easy to charm a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in ages.”

“That was genius.” Sam chuckled.

“I know.” We reached the door to Mr Cooper’s office, and we were let in.

“Mr Cooper?” The short man asked. “You got three new recruits.” We walked in and saw Mr Cooper at his desk. There were three chairs, and one with a clown painted on it. Sam sat down gingerly, while Dean sat looking smug.

“You boys, and lady, picked a hell of a time to join up.” Cooper grunted. “We've got all kinds of local trouble.”

“What do you mean?” Dean frowned.

“Oh, a couple of folks got themselves murdered.” He waved his hand. “Cops always seem to start here first. So, you two ever worked the circuit before?”

“Yes sir, last year through Texas and Arkansas.”

“Doing what? Ride jockies? Butcher? ANS men?”

“Just a little bit of everything, I guess.” Sam shrugged.

“You lot have never done a show in your lives, have you?”

“No, we have not, sir.” I admitted. “But my brothers and I do need the money.” I saw a twitch of surprise in Dean’s face, but he masked it pretty well.

“You see that picture? That's my daddy.” Cooper pointed to a picture.

“You look just like him, Mr Cooper.”

“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 two? You should go to school. Find a couple of girls. Have two point five kids. Live regular.” Cooper turned to me, “And you, little lady, should build a life of your own. You three’re no outcasts.”

“You’d be surprised.” I laughed.

Sam leaned forward, serious. “Sir? We don't want to go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this.”

“You got assistant manager?” Dean scoffed, picking up rubbish. “How?”

“Perks of being a woman. And downsides of being a man who hasn’t known a woman’s touch in many decades.” I winked. We both got a phone call, so we picked up. “Hello?”

‘Hey, guys.’

“What’s up, Sammy? You sound like you saw a clown.” Dean frowned.

‘Very funny. Skeleton, actually.’

“Are we talking real human bones?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

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

”Does it give off EMF?” Dean and I asked at the same time.

‘Well, no, but-’

“We’ll check it out anyway.” I nodded.

“We’re coming to you, Sammy.” Dean said before cutting the call. “Did you have to say that at the same time?”

“Not my fault we think the same way.” I grinned, taking my beanie off Dean and ruffling his hair before pulling it over my head.

“Bug off.”

“Make me.” I teased before walking off. I reached Sam, tapping him on the shoulder. “Whatcha got?”

”Nothing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Nothing gives off EMF yet.”

“It will.” I assured. “Just gotta keep your patience.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Hey! It’s hard work, being hit on by a short man!”

“Fine, fine.” Dean approached us, looking grumpy. “What took you so long?”

“Long story.”

”Mommy, look at the clown!” We heard a little girl giggle, pointing to nowhere.

“What clown?” Her mother asked, looking around, then she took the girl’s hand. “Come on, sweetie.”

We exchanged a look; something was up.

”What I want to know,” I whispered angrily, “is why you told Papazian about the killer ghost clown.” We were on a stakeout at the girl’s house, just waiting.

“I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real.” Dean shrugged. He cocked a gun, but Sam slapped it down.

”Keep that down!” Sam hissed.

“Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what.”

“What?”

“Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager.”

“So Cooper brought the spirit with him?” I mused.

”Something like that.” Dean shook his head, sighing. “I can't believe we keep talking about clowns.”

“Nobody can.” I grimaced. “Alright, let’s keep watch. Nobody close their eyes.”

Dean fell asleep.

At around midnight, we saw the girl go over to the door, opening it. “Wanna come and play?” The clown entered with her, and we jolted Dean awake, dragging him with us. We broke in, waiting in the hallway. “Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs.” As soon as the clown and the girl came in sight, I rushed forward, taking her out of the clown’s grip. She started screaming, but I loosened my grip.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” I whispered. She quietened down, but then Dean shot the clown and she hugged me, crying.

“Dean, watch out!” Sam yelled, and the clown escaped.

“I’ve got you.” I murmured, stroking the girl’s back. “Don’t worry.”

”What's going on here?” The father ran down the stairs, his eyes widening when he saw his daughter hugging me. “Get away from my-“

Her mother ran down too, gasping. “Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?!”

“Who the hell are you? Get out! Get out of my house!” Sam and Dean fled, but I breathed shakily, frozen for a moment.

“Mommy, Daddy, the man shot my clown!” The girl cried, then pointed to me. “She saved me!”

“You saved my daughter.” The mother sobbed, hugging me. “Thank you.”

“How can we repay you?” The dad asked, picking his daughter up.

“I- you don’t n-need to.” I stammered. “I know what it’s like to not be protected when you need it. My parents weren’t exactly there, so she’s lucky to have you.”

“We’re lucky that you were there.” The mother smiled.

And that’s how I ended up leaving with food.

I trudged over to the car, where Dean and Sam were waiting.

“Where were you?” Sam sighed in relief upon seeing me, unfolding his arms.

“We couldn’t get in cause you have the keys!” Dean grumped.

“Can I console you with food?” I held up the food, and they stared at me.

“Uh… how? Why?”

“The little girl told her parents that I saved her from you two.” I chuckled nervously. “They asked me how they could repay me and I told them they didn’t have to, but they sent me with food and a large flask of cocoa.”

“Beanie, I’ve never appreciated you so much until this day.” Dean grinned.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Do you think they got the plate?” Dean asked while munching on a sandwich.

“Nope.” I smirked. “Covered the plate when we got here. Then I whipped it off before we left, so it’s unlikely they saw anything. But I’ve been thinking. One thing's for sure.”

“What is?” Sam asked, also eating a sandwich.

”We're not dealing with a spirit. I mean, that rock salt hit something solid.”

“Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?”

“Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?” Dean scoffed. “Did it say anything in Dad's journal?”

Sam flicked through it, eyebrows furrowed. “Nope.”

I pulled out my phone, dialling a number and holding it to my ear.

“Who’re you callin’?” Dean asked.

“Jo.” I replied, getting out of the car, then she picked the call up.

‘Hello?’

“Hey, Jo, it’s Ivvy.”

‘Oh, hey! Whatcha need?’

”The boys and I just finished a stakeout at a girl’s house because she came into contact with the clown. Dean shot it, but it was solid. Is Ash back with his evidence?”

‘Yeah. Lemme pass the phone to him.’

’Hey, pretty lady.’

’Ash!’

’I’m kidding! Anyway, I think what you’re lookin’ for is called a Rakshasa. An ancient demon from Hindu mythology. It takes on a human form, feeds on human flesh and can’t enter a home unless invited. They sleep on a bed of dead insects and wake up around every twenty to thirty years. Sounds accurate.’

“How do you kill it?”

‘Blade made of pure brass. That’s our best guess.�� Ellen cut in. ‘If it’s right, you’re welcome; if it’s wrong, see you on the other side.’

“I’ll make sure to tell you if it worked.” I laughed. “Alright, see you guys.”

‘Bye!’ I cut the call, climbing back in. Dean and Sam looked grumpier, and I raised my eyebrow.

“Did you two fight again?”

“No.” Dean grumbled, and I turned to Sam.

“Sammy?”

“No.” He replied a lot more civilly.

“The moment I leave.” I grimaced.

”What did Ellen say?” Sam asked.

“What we’re looking for, they said, might be a Rakshasa. Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures. They appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited.“

“So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite 'em in.” Dean mused.

“Pretty much sums it up.”

“Why don't they just munch on the kids?”

“Not enough meat on the bones?” Sam theorised.

“What else did you find out?”

“A Rakshasa sleeps on a bed of dead insects and wakes up to feed every twenty to thirty years.”

“Well, that makes sense.” Dean nodded. “I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81.”

“Probably more before that.” Sam breathed.

“Who do we know that worked both shows, boys?” I smirked.

“Cooper.”

“Cooper.” Dean added.

“You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him.”

“What if it is him?”

“Can’t rule it out.” I shrugged. “Who knows how old he is?”

“Ellen say how to kill him?”

“Legend says a dagger made of pure brass.”

“I know where to get one of those.”

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

“You’re such a stickler for details, Sammy.” Dean teased, making Sam smile. “All right, I'll round up the blade, Beanie, you’ll keep watch and you go check if Cooper's got bedbugs.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I grinned, patting them on the shoulders.

“Let’s do this.”

I waited outside, one hand on the gun in my jacket, maybe as reassurance that it was still there.

“Look, Mommy, it’s her!” I heard, and the little girl ran up to me, paired with her parents.

“Hey, uh, didn’t expect to see you guys again.” I chuckled nervously, raising my hand.

“And we never got your name.” Her mother smiled while I shook her father’s hand.

“My name’s, um, Lily.” I lied, thinking quickly. “Lily Carter.”

“I’m Audrey Teyman.” She introduced. “This is my husband James, and this little girl is also Lily.” My breath caught in my throat, but I stomached it, bending down to Lily.

“You’re a Lily too, huh?” I smiled.

”Yeah!” She giggled. “You’re just like me.”

“Yeah, I’m just like you.” I heard some yelling, so I had to think quickly again. “Tell you what?” I pulled out some money and gave it to her. “Spend it on anything you want. But not too much sweets, you get me?”

“Yeah!”

“Pinky promise?” I held out my little finger and she wrapped hers around mine before giving me a hug. I stood up to face her parents.

“You’re too generous.” James smiled.

“It’s nothin’.” I shook my head. “Now you go, Lily, and spend that money right, okay?”

“Okay!” Lily gave me a toothy grin.

“We’d better get going. It was lovely meeting you again, Miss Carter.” They left, and I immediately ran to the source of the commotion.

“Dean!” I yelled, trying the door handle.

“Beanie, thank god!” Dean shouted from the inside, and I shot the door handle, opening it just in time for Dean to tumble out.

“Are you ok?!”

“I wouldn’t be if you hadn’t stepped in.” He leaned his forehead against mine, a relieved grin on his face, but his eyes were closed.

“Dean! Ivonne!” Sam ran up to us, and we both got up, walking over.

“Sammy!”

”So, Cooper thinks I'm a Peeping Tom, but it's not him.”

“We’ve figured that part out. It’s the blind guy. He's here somewhere.”

“Did you get the brass blades?”

“No, no, it’s been one of those days.”

“We can’t have one of those days.” I grimaced. “We’re probably now on the Rakshasa’s most wanted list. We have to kill it.”

“I’ve got an idea.” Sam nodded, “Follow me.” We ran to the funhouse, and when we were there I pulled out my gun. “Dean, Ivonne, find the maze, now!” We ran in, my gun held up while I heard every single sound around me.

“Can you stop walking so loud?!” I whispered to Dean, who stopped.

“I’m heavy footed!” He argued quietly.

“Our lives are on the line here!”

“Fine!” We found the maze and came back to Sam.

“Where is it?” Sam asked frantically.

“I don’t know.” Dean fretted. “Will we see its clothes when it’s walking around, or..?”

“Probably not.” I frowned, then a knife flew past Dean, pinning his sleeve to the wall. Another pinned his wrist to the wall.

“Sam!” Sam pulled the pipe off the wall, stalking around slowly. Then a knife almost chipped him in the head, but he dodged in time.

“Dean, where is it?” Sam called.

“I don’t know!” A knife flew through the air, and I felt a sharp pain in my stomach, followed by my body reacting to absorb the shock. I held my hand to my stomach, and when I drew it back, I saw blood.

A knife was in my stomach.

“Beanie!” Dean yelled, then pulled a lever, making steam gush out of the organ and show the outline of the body.

“Over here!” I held up my hand and caught the pipe, sticking it as far as I could into the Rakshasa. It bled, and slowly disappeared, while I collapsed onto the floor and sat against the wall, leaning my head against it. Dean got the knives off his sleeves and rushed over to me, both brothers kneeling down.

“Don’t you close your eyes, Ivonne.” Dean ordered, tilting my head up to face him. “Don’t you dare.”

”We’ll get you an ambulance.” Sam fretted, trying to assess the wound.

“I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon.” I coughed, wincing a little at the pain. “I’ll be damned and given a one way ticket to hell if I do.”

“You’re not going there.” Dean assured. “I ain’t gonna let you.”

”So considerate.” I smirked.

“So mouthy, even with a knife in you.”

”Knife wounds won’t stop me from getting a dig in.”

”I was kind of hopin’ that you’d stay back.” Jo smiled giving me a once over. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Of course.” I chuckled. “I’ve got these two knuckleheads.”

“Those two knuckleheads couldn’t save you from a flying knife.”

“One was trapped by one, the other dodging one. I can only blame my reflexes.”

“Just be careful out there.” Ellen chastised, handing me some bandages. “I wouldn’t want a knife to hit your heart next time.”

“I guarantee you, Ellen, there’s no way in hell I’d let that happen.”

“But we’re not in hell.” She frowned. “I’ve known you since you were a newborn, Ivonne. What happened to your family was terrible, and it could happen again.”

“I think this time is different.” I smiled. “If not, I know who to call.”

“You better.” Jo hugged me. “I’ll be waiting everyday. If you won’t call me for a while, I’m busting down your door and I’m gonna kill those two myself.”

“Jo, that’s my job.” I joked, inciting a laugh. “I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, I’ve got something to give you.” Ellen hurried to her drawer, taking out a necklace. “It was your father’s gift to your mother when they didn’t start becoming so… distant. I think it’d look wonderful on you.” I took it, admiring the shimmering green stone.

“It would. Thanks, Ellen.”

”No problem.”

A day later, I was told that I’d be fine, so we were back at my house. Dean and Sam insisted that I stayed in bed while they brought me food and breakfast, but I did have to get in some walking.

“Knock knock.” Sam grinned.

“Hey, Sammy.” I smiled, sitting up a bit. “C’mon in.”

Sam sat down next to me, looking intently. “How have you been?”

”I could be worse.” I chuckled. “Dude was good at his craft.”

”He was.” Pause. “But there’s something else.”

“What is it?” I frowned.

”What you said to Dean stuck with me. I’m not closing my eyes anytime soon. I’ll be damned and given a one-way ticket to hell if I do.” He repeated. “It seemed so genuine. Did something happen to you or someone in your family?”

”That’s a story for another day.” I refused politely. “For now, all I can say is that it’s my fault.”

”I don’t think it was.” Sam smiled, then kissed me on the forehead. “G’night, Ivonne.”

”Call me Ivy, Sammy.” I offered.

”G’night, Ivy.”

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