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jakesduskwood · 1 day

Text

even statues crumble if they're made to wait

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Post-Episode 10 Duskwood, Post-Episode 1 Moonvale

Words: 8,916

Summary: It's been three months since the explosion in the mine. Three months since Hannah was found. And MC's accepted that Jake is never coming back. When she gets roped into another missing person's case, it makes for the perfect distraction. Jake is dead. It's fine. That is, until she finds herself on the phone with Alan Bloomgate who says he has something to show her. But it's fine. Jake is dead.

Until he's not.

EPISODE-1 MOONVALE SPOILERS AHEAD (MAYBE)!

[ A/N: Hello! :)

I know it's been a while since I've done this, but I finished Moonvale Episode 1 and if you've seen the ending (and used its Duskwood code), you know what happened and how excited I was to receive that bit of Duskwood. So, I took it and ran with it, and out came this extremely long fic. I did not proofread this as it took me literally almost 12 hours to write so it is completely and 100% me and my love for Jake and I hope you love it.

Side note: I suck with anything related to timelines, so I made one up on my own. I know Episode 1 of Moonvale takes place over the course of a day or two, but for the purpose of this fic, it made sense to make it longer, so it's not a typo, or me losing my mind, it's just the way my brain processed this.

Enjoy! :) ]

It’s been three months since the explosion in the mine.

Three months since Richy had been killed. Three months since Hannah was rescued. Three months since I had last spoken to Thomas or Cleo or Lilly or…or Jessy. I didn’t blame her then and I don’t blame her now. Any of them, really. I didn’t share the bond they had with each other. I wasn’t from Duskwood. It didn’t matter that we’d experienced a tragedy together—and yes, perhaps them more than me, but I loved Richy too. I had lost Richy too. And Jake—

But mostly, I think they just wanted to forget. To move on. They didn’t want to remember that their friend had been capable of…of that. And I was a constant reminder of that to them. So I understood why we didn’t necessarily talk anymore.

The one person I did keep in contact with from Duskwood, oddly enough, other than the occasional update from Alan Bloomgate, was Dan. We weren’t best friends or anything, but he allowed me to check in on our friends in a way that I didn’t know how to do with anyone else. Maybe because I thought he was the least affected among them. I knew he cared about Hannah, but he wasn’t to her what Thomas or Cleo or Lilly were. And he wasn’t to Richy what Jessy had been.

I’d learned from him that Thomas and Hannah had broken up. There was no bad blood, but Thomas hadn’t quite figured out how to accept the things he’d learned about his girlfriend when she’d been gone, and Hannah hadn’t quite figured out how to re-trust someone after Richy. Even if that person was Thomas. But I’d hoped they would find their way back to each other in the end.

I thought about reaching out to Jessy every once in a while—even just as an apology for everything that had happened. I’m sorry that Hannah was found at the expense of Richy. I’m sorry that he did this to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner. We should have. We should have. We should have. I miss you. But I never send it. I’m not all that sure she’d respond anyway.

Cleo and I were never all that close. She has her best friend back, so I think she’s probably as okay as she can be. Helping Hannah find a new kind of normal in a time where her childhood friend had kidnapped her in order to prove a point. I don’t know how you come back from that—I don’t know how you come back from knowing that you killed somebody at all.

I hadn’t found the courage to ask if somebody had told Hannah about Jake.

Not that I think it would matter anyway. I hadn’t heard from him since before the explosion in the mine, which was, like I said—three months ago. I waited the appropriate amount of time—twenty-five days—before I broke down and concluded that maybe he hadn’t survived. Which just piled a shit-ton of guilt onto my shoulders because it was supposed to be me in that mine. He had gone in place of me and now he was dead.

It was the only explanation that made sense. I was used to Jake disappearing for days at a time, but never as long as he had been now. And he didn’t seem like the type to tell me he loved me and then leave without a single explanation. Not unless he had to. But it had been three months and as much as I missed him, as much as my chest ached with the thought that we would never eat Chinese food out of shitty motels and have that on-the-run ending we talked about, I had accepted that he wasn’t coming back.

I wonder if he had known about Richy or if he had died still thinking Michael Hanson was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. I wonder if his last thoughts were of me. Maybe it’s selfish, but I kind of hope they were, because I’m pretty sure I’ll think about him for the rest of my life.

I wonder what it would have felt like to run my hands through his hair. To kiss him. To spend every waking moment with him and know it was because I loved him. Because I would have. Talking to Jake became about more than just finding Hannah. It became a part of my day I looked forward to more than anything else. He confided in me in a way that told me he never had with anyone, maybe not even Hannah, and I needed that from somebody. I needed somebody to trust in me the way that Jake did. I needed somebody to love me the way that Jake did.

It was strange—and maybe a little ironic—the thought that something so beautiful could come out of something so tragic.

Anyway, my point is: it’s been a long couple of months. Of thinking about my friends. Of thinking about Jake. Of wondering if I should have done things differently. I should have gone to Duskwood to help. Not even with the mine, but sooner. I could have. I could’ve gone when Jessy was attacked on the way home. I could’ve gone when the group made plans to cut out of town and hide away in the house Richy had found. Selfishly, I should have. In that moment, when they were settled around the fire and Lilly called me, I had never remembered wanting anything more. I should have grabbed Jake—metaphorically, maybe even literally—and rode it out with them to the end.

I don’t stop missing them after three months. Of wishing things could have been different. Wishing I could have done more. But exactly ninety-five days after the explosion in the mine, seventy days since I had accepted that Jake was never coming back, twenty-two days since I had last heard from anybody from Duskwood (Dan included), my phone dings with a new message.

And the cycle starts all over again.

It’s somebody named Eric, who claims he needs my help to find his friend Adam, who disappeared while he was waiting for a ride in someplace called Redlog Pines. And much like with Duskwood, I have never heard of Redlog, and the case reminds me way too much of Thomas’ first message to me, so much that it makes my chest ache, but I can’t say no because there’s somebody missing, and if I’d say no the first time, God knows where Hannah would be.

So, I say yes, and I help out where I can, and Eric decides he needs to bring about four more friends in on his little plan and I try my best to stay emotionally unattached because I remember everything that happened the last time and I can’t go through that again. I offer up information when I can and keep my words short and careful because I’m not ready to get attached to somebody else I know I might never meet.

I know how this ends.

Two days in, Ash, one of Eric’s friends, brings up my Duskwood past and the unhealed wound I’ve been trying to mend breaks open again. She asks about Richy, and about the mine, and then because I’m me and I can’t help myself, I tell her about Jake. She tells me the news never mentioned another body and I shove that thought to the back of my head because hoping for something that will never come true will kill me.

Four days into Adam’s disappearance, and the police not giving a shit—as Charlie, somebody who reminds me far too much of Richy for comfort, points out—my phone beeps with an incoming call from somebody I haven’t spoken to in a while.

“Go for [MC].” I answer my phone.

Ever since Hannah had been found in the mine and Jake had…you know, my phone had been more silent than I’d gotten used to. Until this new case. But even that—it was only a few days old and I didn’t want to go down the same path with them that I did with my friends in Duskwood. We didn’t really know each other that long, sure—even though sometimes it’d felt like it—but it felt like I’d finally been a part of something. Like, I had found these people who had chosen me for me.

And originally, maybe they had. Maybe they’d had every intention of keeping me around, but then Richy was the Man Without A Face and Alan Bloomgate had rescued Hannah and nothing was the same as it had been when we’d met each other. We knew too many secrets about each other by the time the town settled. Secrets we would have to take to the grave.

Or maybe I’m losing my mind a bit and I had really only been a means to an end.

Either way.

“Alan?” I raise my voice when there’s nothing but breathing on the other end of the line. “Did you mean to call me?”

His tone is clipped. “I found something.”

“You found something.” I repeat.

My heart clenches. For all I know, it might fall into my stomach. As far I know, from watching the news, from what Ash told me, Jake’s body was never found. Richy’s was. Or what was left of him to find, anyway. I had assumed that there just hadn’t been enough of Jake left. The thought left me nauseous, but it was better than hoping for something I knew I could never have.

“I’m sending it to your phone now.” He responds. “Let me know what you think of this.”

And then he hangs up.

That was a riveting conversation, I think as my phone dings with a message. I do my best to ignore my other messages—contacts from Duskwood I’m still not ready to acknowledge—and click Alan Bloomgate. He sent me a video that looks like—oh God.

Immediately, I’m overcome with emotion as an all-too-familiar forest pops up on my phone. It’s a video of Alan’s bodycam footage. He’s searching the Duskwood forest. A forest I’ve seen too many times in the background of other video calls.

I watch as he stumbles upon an object that’s too dark to make out at first. When he gets closer, it’s clear that it’s a backpack. It’s simple. Black. Nothing about it that screams this is mine and I left it here about anybody in particular. You stupid, stupid idiot, I tell my heart when it rattles against my chest in hope. He’s dead.

Alan stands and treks away from the backpack—I want to scream at him to go back, to open it and look through it and tell me if it’s what my heart aches to believe, but I can’t, because this is a video and I’m simply watching with wide eyes, waiting for…for something. But then. But then, he moves further into the forest and I watch as he stumbles upon an object that makes my knees tremble and tears rush to my eyes and my hands shake. A black hoodie. It looks like it’s been through hell, with holes scattered up the sleeves and dirt cakes into the hood, but it’s unmistakably his.

And then—Alan lifts the hood and picks up something that makes me sink to my knees with a sob that wracks my entire frame. Because I’m staring at Jake’s mask. The mask he doesn’t go anywhere without. The mask that protects him. And so my relief is short-lived, because I realize that even if he’s alive—which seems like a very big possibility at this point—he’s alive without the things that he needs to survive.

And then the anger kicks in. Because if he’s been alive, on his own, for three months—why has he not contacted me? Unless he survived the mine but he didn’t survive the after. But that didn’t make any sense. So, okay, he wasn’t dead. But that didn’t make any sense either. He told me he wouldn’t let them catch him. Because catching that meant he would be apart from me. Did something happen that prevented him from being able to reach out and tell me he was at least okay? A quick text that said didn’t die in the explosion in the mine, you don’t need to mourn me, by the way, going off radar for another year. Did he think I would have given up on him?

I wipe my eyes and shoot a message to Alan.

ME: Recently?? Did nobody search the forests before?

ALAN: Searched the forests for what, [MC]? The logical assumption seemed to be that if anybody was inside the mine when Richy set the fire, they would have perished alongside him. Officers were stationed outside every known entrance and exit. Besides, after the story you and your friends spun around this town, do you think anybody would have gone back into its forests?

ME: But it’s possible?

ALAN: I would say these items had been there for some time. But I would say it is likely he ditched them when he fled the mine, yes.

Another sob tears through my throat. Jake is alive. I don’t know quite what that means for us as of now, but I know it’s the best news I’ve heard since Hannah was found. Jake is alive. He’s out there somewhere. And even if it’s been three months, and even if I’m a little bit mad at him right now, I know that if he was here, I would throw my arms around his neck and hold on to him until someone dragged me off, and even then—I would fight kicking and screaming.

I close out of my messages with Alan and pull up a conversation I haven’t had the heart to look at in quite some time.

ME: Jake’s alive.

LILLY: …

LILLY: Have you spoken to him?

ME: Alan called. He found some of Jake’s things in Duskwood. I don’t know a lot of details. But I know he made it out of the mine.

Lilly types for a long while, but she doesn’t respond. I don’t take it personally. I think it’s probably hard for her to be happy that her brother’s okay while also trying to accept that her sister may never be okay again. Her sister, who had once-upon-a-time been kind-of-sort-of in love with their brother she didn’t know she had. I think that would probably mess with any family’s heads. And on top of all that, you throw in manslaughter and a kidnapping. I wouldn’t wish anybody, not even my worst enemy, to have had to go through what the Donforts had.

When it becomes adamant that Lilly isn’t going to respond, I start scrolling through messages with the rest of the group in Duskwood. I click on Jessy. I’m here if you need me. That had been the last thing I sent to her, a couple of days after Richy’s death. She hadn’t responded. I click out of Jessy’s contact and click on Thomas’ instead. Thank you for everything. That had been his last message to me after we found Hannah. I’d liked it. I hadn’t expected at the time it would be the last thing we’d ever say to each other. I click out of Thomas’ and click on Richy. So, you want to turn yourself in? I’d asked. That was before he called me. Before he lit a match and burned himself and the mine to the ground. Some people would call that heroic. I mostly call him a coward.

I click on Jake’s name. It’s been a while since I read messages between the two of us. Maybe before I had accepted—thought—he was dead. In that twenty-five-day period when I’d hoped with all I’d had that he would come back. I love you. That was the last message he sent me. I’d responded with I love you too, Jake. Then, four days later: Are you okay? A week later: Jake, please, you’re starting to scare me. I know you said you would contact when you could, but it’s been a week. After twenty-five days, when I had finally accepted our fate, I’d sent one final message: I hope you know that I love you, and I will always care about you, but I think it’s time for me to move on. I’m so sorry that I sent you into the mine. It should have been me. And I will probably feel the guilt from that for the rest of my life. Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself, wherever you are.

After that, I had closed out of our messages and hadn’t looked back. Partly because I couldn’t bear the pain of it. It felt like I had given up on him. I hadn’t—if I had thought for a second that he was alive, if I knew then what I know now, I would have never sent that message. But holding out hope for somebody who I thought was a ghost at the time? That was slowly killing me.

It’s only then that I notice the screen flickering. Much like the way it used to whenever Jake would hack into my phone. I don’t think he’s much in the mood to be hacking right now, but somehow, I know it’s him. When had he done this? Recently? If I had opened our messages, would I have seen this ten—twenty—even fifty days ago? It hadn’t looked like this the last time I texted him. Did he see my last message about needing to move on? Was that why he hadn’t reached out to tell me that he was okay? Because he thought I was moving on happily without him?

No, my brain supplies. He wouldn’t. He would reach out anyway, because he knows how much the thought of him not being okay would have destroyed you.

The screen flickers once more and then a message pops up, bright and blue-tinted and clear as day on my phone.

[MC]

I WILL FIND YOU

And the world around me shifts.

--------------------------------------------------

Maybe it sounds crazy, considering I’ve never seen his face before, but I always thought that if I’d ran into Jake one day, maybe on the street or at one of those motels he stayed at or maybe even in Duskwood, surrounded by all our friends, I would know it was him. I would, because it’s him, and it’s me, and we’re the only two people who understand each other quite the way we do.

I still believe that.

I believe it when I book my flight to Duskwood (or rather, twenty miles outside of town, which is the closest airport). I believe it when I board the airplane and find a seat next to a mother with her screaming child and when I shoot off a quick text to Eric to let him know I’ll be MIA for the next few hours, but to message me if he needs anything—and I think about how much easier this case would probably be to solve if we had Jake.

Maybe it would have been harder to find Hannah without me, but I know damn well they would’ve never found her without Jake.

Dan picks me up from the airport. I haven’t told the others yet. Something about it felt off—like I shouldn’t message them and say hey, I know we haven’t spoken in a while, but I’m booking a flight to look into why my maybe-slash-not-really boyfriend left his belongings in a forest we really wish we could forget about, and by the way, can I crash at your place?

It’s quiet on the car ride back into town. I’m looking through my messages from Eric and the group from Redlog Pines and thinking about how I’m Duskwood with this group and I want so badly to laugh because it’s ironic, but Dan wouldn’t understand. He might just call me crazy. Better yet, he would ask how I manage to get myself into these situations, and really, I don’t have an answer for him.

“How have you been?” I ask, just to break the tension, as Charlie, in my messages, tries to persuade his friends to head back into that creepy cave in the middle of the forest. He’s going to get someone killed, I think.

Dan looks over at me. “Are you still with Hackerman?”

My chest squeezes. “His name is Jake, Dan. And we were never really together.”

“Hm.” He nods like he doesn’t quite believe me. “You already know mostly everything that’s been happening here. Thomas and Hannah called it quits. They say it was some mutual decision, but it’s hard to find them in the same room together. Jessy hasn’t been out with us since. I think we remind her too much of Richy. The group’s all changed.”

“And you?” I ask.

He gives me a cheshire-like grin that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m always the same.”

We make it to Duskwood just as the sun’s going down. Much too late for me to try and trek through the forest and retrace the steps Jake might have taken that night. Not that I think it would help give me any clues as to where he might have gone, but mostly because I wonder if it will make me feel closer to him. We’ve never been in the same place before, and even if he’s not there now—he once was.

“Can you drop me at the police station?”

Dan blinks. “The police station.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“We answered their questions for weeks, [MC]. I don’t think anything you have to tell them at this point is going to help. The investigation’s closed. Everybody knows Richy did it. He died with the fire in the mine. Everybody’s trying to move on from that.” He works his jaw. “Did you come here to open old wounds after all this time?”

I try not to show the hurt look on my face. “This isn’t about Richy. Look, Alan called me. He asked if I could look at some things. I figured it was better for me to do it in person. That’s it. Nothing to do with Richy. Nothing to do with Jessy. Nothing to do with you.”

He sighs, and I’m not entirely sure he’s going to abide by my wishes until we pull in front of a tiny building—tinier than most—that says Duskwood Police on the sign. Duskwood must not have that much crime. Well, not until this, I suppose.

“Thank you.” I tell him as I reach over to undo my seatbelt and climb out of the car. “This is a nice ride, by the way.”

He raises a hand in some mock-salute. “Need me to pick you up?”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “Think I’ll explore the town for a little bit.”

“Suit yourself.” He shrugs and then he’s off.

I square my shoulders and take a deep breath before opening the door to the police station. It wasn’t like Alan asked me to come down here. He hadn’t. Even during the investigation into Richy’s death and Hannah’s kidnapping, when he questioned us, he never asked me to come to Duskwood. We’d done way too many video calls and phone calls and at one point, I had asked if he thought it would be easier for me to come to Duskwood, to which he responded back, are you ready for that?

No, I hadn’t been. I’m not even so sure I was now. But knowing that Jake was alive, that here was the last place was, I had to try.

“Can I help you?” The woman at the front desk asks.

I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could speak to Alan Bloomgate. I’m one of—I was involved in the Hannah Donfort case. My name is [MC].”

Her eyes widen. “Give me a moment.” She stands and heads to some back office—which looks to me more like a closet—and then returns with a clipped smile. “He’ll be right out.”

Apparently, she isn’t lying, because not two minutes later, Alan is stepping out from the same door and staring me down. I hold his gaze and hope it says that I’m not here to argue. I will tell him my truth, but only my truth, not Hannah’s, not Jake’s, not anybody else’s.

“I was wondering when I would see you.” He says.

I shrug one shoulder. “Isn’t a few months later better than never?”

“Let’s go into my office.” He says, and leads me around the desk and back into the closet space he had come out of. He sits behind the desk and motions for me to take a seat opposite him. “I’m just going to guess you’re not here to talk about Miss Donfort.”

“I want to see them.” I tell him. “His things. I want to see them for myself. And whatever you want from me in return, I’ll give to you.”

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, [MC].”

“He isn’t a game to me.” I snap back and then sit back and try to relax. “I appreciate that you called me. It’s—I helped you find Hannah. I would do it again. Even with knowing the things that we do now, I would do it all again. That’s how much that group means to me. That’s how much he means to me. I’m not asking you to break any rules or to lie for him or to—to let him hide in your basement for the next five years. I’m just asking you to show me what you found.”

He stares me down for a moment. Then, he sighs, says “wait here for a minute” and disappears to another room. When he comes back, it’s with an evidence bag in his hand filled with the objects I saw on his bodycam footage. My breath hitches in my throat.

“I can’t let you touch them.” He says as he lays them in front of me.

I stare into the eyes of the mask. “Did you tell anybody that he’s alive?”

“I don’t know that he’s alive,” is all the answer he gives, which is an answer to my question. I slide my gaze down to the black hoodie, to the dirtied sleeves and muddy hood, and think about the fact that Jake wore this. I’m so close to him.

And yet I’ve never been further away from him.

“Thank you.” I tell him. “For—for this. And for listening to me about Hannah. If you hadn’t, I—I don’t know what would have happened. How much longer he would have gone on for. If he would have ever stopped.”

Alan’s silent for a minute. Then, he clears his throat. “You know, it was strange to me. Both Hannah and yourself swore to me that neither of you knew the other.”

“I don’t.” I swear.

It was one of the (albeit many) things that didn’t make sense to me. How Hannah got a hold of my number. How she sent it to Thomas. She’d told Alan she hadn’t really remembered texting him my number at all.

“I believe you.” He reassures. “I just think it’s strange. One mistake, if you can call it that, and you throw yourself into a missing persons case to help a stranger.”

“They’re not strangers.” Even though Hannah is kind of still a stranger.

“But they were.” Alan reasons. “You had no reason to say yes to helping Thomas. I doubt anybody would have held it against you if you turned the other way. But you decided to follow this until the end. To make sure they found Hannah. And you care about them. Maybe that’s why I find that I’m more lenient with you than maybe I should be. Why you’re sitting across from me right now calling the shots. Why I’m not asking you about the hacker.”

“I wouldn’t tell you if you did.” I look him in the eye so he knows I’m telling the truth.

He returns my gaze. “Maybe that’s the other reason.”

“Hm.” I acknowledge before I turn my gaze away—from him, from the objects that I know belong to Jake and it takes everything in me not to snatch them up and run. “Well. Thank you for allowing me to steal some of your time. For letting me—” I cut myself off before I say something that makes me break down in a fit of tears in front of him. “—just thank you.”

Leaving the station is easier than coming in. I’m still not any closer to knowing where Jake is than I was when I arrived here, but there’s a comfort in knowing he walked these streets. I wonder what he would think if he knew I was here. He hadn’t wanted me to come to Duskwood when everything was happening…but now that it was over, would he be happy that I was here? That I had come to Duskwood to piece together where he might have gone? Would he track my location and come to find me and…or was I grasping at straws?

It felt like I had just gotten him back. Not really, not entirely…but knowing that he was alive, that he was out there somewhere, maybe thinking of me and looking for ways to come back, to live the life we talked about when he asked me if I was sure…that was worth it. The thought that we could maybe someday have that—even if it was a twenty percent chance.

I check my phone again to see a new message from Ash. She’s asking me if I’ve heard from Charlie in the last few hours. Apparently, he’s AWOL, and I want to help, really, but…it doesn’t really feel like that’s where I am at the moment. Not just physically—obviously—but mentally. We got lucky with Hannah. And that was really only because we had Jake. Adam didn’t have a Jake. Or…maybe he did and I just hadn’t met him yet. But I already had a Jake and I didn’t want another one.

Maybe—if I found him, I could convince him to help. That was a big maybe. Not because I thought Jake would say no. He would say yes to anything I asked of him. The maybe was whether or not I could find him. More likely, the maybe was whether or not he would find me.

Three months ago, I would have been able to come to Duskwood and have no shortage of things I wanted to do and people I wanted to see. Now, as I stand outside Duskwood’s police station, I feel nothing but loneliness. Nobody knows I’m here. I could pass Thomas on the street and he wouldn’t even know it. I could run into Jessy at the library and she would walk by me without even a second thought. Why would they? I hadn’t told them I was here.

So, with nothing left to do, I walked. Toward the town center. Toward the library that Jessy showed me on our walk through Duskwood. Toward the Rainbow Café where I knew that Cleo and Hannah had spent a lot of their time. Toward the Black Swan. Toward—

Ah, what the hell.

I had nothing better to do and The Aurora seemed like a great place to drown my sorrows. To think about my next steps. To figure out—now that I was in Duskwood—what I planned to do. The thing about Jake being so secretive (and on the run) was that I couldn’t retrace his steps. I wasn’t able to ask if anyone had seen him. One, because he would make sure nobody had. And two, because three months was a long time to forget somebody’s face if you didn’t know who you were looking for.

I pull open the door to the bar and step inside. Immediately, I’m hit with the stench of whiskey and a handful of chatter. Duskwood’s a small town. And The Aurora definitely proves it. The bartenders move melodically around each other, serving patrons on the other side of the bar. If you walk down further, there’s a handful of tables.

And dead in the center is a table with my friends. Or, some of them. Dan and Cleo and Lilly. Could I still call them my friends? Ex-friends, maybe? Acquaintances? I didn’t know what they were. Or how to address them. It wasn’t like we had gotten into a fight. We didn’t stop talking for any reason other than that we did. We stopped talking.

I make a beeline for the bar to avoid a confrontation and plant myself on one of the stools. One of the bartenders—a girl cute with bleach blonde hair and brown Bambi eyes—asks what I want and I channel my inner Dan to order a whiskey—neat.

Looking over my shoulder, I focus on the table of them. On Lilly, who’s smiling at something Cleo said. On Dan, who’s the only one of them who actually knows I’m here. But even he’s focused on the conversation they’re having. It’s strange—to see Dan a part of something I’m not sure he would have been before. It’s nice.

“[MC]?”

I turn my head away from the table of my friends and focus my attention across the bar on someone I should’ve expected to see. “Phil.”

“I thought I recognized your voice from when we talked.” He smiles. “I wasn’t sure, but I saw you staring longingly at them—” He nods towards Dan and Cleo and Lilly. “—and I knew. What brings you around here? I expected you to show up maybe a few months ago, but by now, I thought you’d moved on without us.”

I was tired of the words move on. Like I’d had a choice. Like the people from this town might open their arms and welcome me back into their lives. So I’d been part of the group who’d saved Hannah Donfort. So had a lot of people. It didn’t make me special and everyone here knew it.

I offer him a smile in return. “I’m looking for somebody.”

“Anybody I know?” He asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. At least nobody you would recognize.” I pause. “How’s Jessy?”

“She’s—Jessy.” He answers, like that is an answer. “I don’t know if she’ll ever really be okay with the way things happened with Richy. I wouldn’t expect her to. Obviously. But I don’t know. I think I just thought she would have gone back to her normal life by now. And then I remember that most of her life revolved around him. He was her best friend. She worked for him. And I’m trying to be patient about that. But—” He shakes his head. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

“She doesn’t know I’m in town.”

“Okay.” He hums. “So, you’re not in town for my sister. And you’re not in town for your group of friends because they’re over there and you look like you’d rather be anywhere else. There’s always Hannah, but I don’t think you knew her that well. Or at all. Would I be right to assume this is about a certain hacker who helped to find Hannah?”

“He didn’t help find Hannah.” I defend. “He was the entire reason we found Hannah. I would have never been able to do it on my own. Even with the others’ help. He’s the only reason we found out about—” I pause before I say something I maybe shouldn’t. “It doesn’t matter. He’s the only reason we found her. Everything I did was just dumb luck.”

“That wasn’t what the news said.” A voice cuts in and I turn my attention from Phil to focus on the stranger that slides into the seat beside me. Not too close—a couple inches away. I don’t recognize him. I don’t know him. But I don’t know every person in Duskwood. Maybe a total of like nine or ten. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But I heard you had a lot to do with finding Hannah Donfort. The news said you were some kind of hero.”

I offer him a tight smile. “That’s nice of them. But…if they knew my—friend—knew what he did to find her, I don’t think I would be as much of a hero as everybody says.”

“That’s noble.” He says, eyes meeting mine, and it strikes me at once how handsome he is. He has dark hair. Bright green eyes. Focus, [MC]. I scold. You have a…a someone.

My phone buzzes.

ERIC SENT A PHOTO.

ERIC: What do you make of this?

I sigh and click on the photo. It’s of—some object. Much like the one that was addressed to me on the envelope in Adam’s glove compartment. The image is a bit different—but I don’t know enough about what it means to have an answer as to why.

ME: Was this one addressed to me?

ERIC: Nope. Ash.

“Are you okay?” Phil asks.

I clear my throat. “I’m a popular person—apparently.” A thought strikes. “Have you ever heard of a place called Redlog Pines?”

Phil frowns. “No.”

I turn to look at the stranger. “You?”

“Redlog Pines is a small town about two hundred miles north of Duskwood.” He answers. “Known for their wooded forests, much like Duskwood.”

“Why are you looking into a place with forests as creepy as ours?” Phil asks, incredulously. “Didn’t you get enough of that with Hannah’s case?”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “You would think.”

“Hey, [MC]!”

I wince at the sound of Dan’s voice. Shooting Phil a look that screams please help me to which he shakes his head amusedly, I turn and plaster on a fake smile as I take in the shocked looks on Cleo and Lilly’s faces. I should have known better than to come to The Aurora and talk to Phil when the three of them were having a conversation across the room. I should have known they would sooner or later see me. I just hoped it was later.

“Hey.” I hop off my stool and make my way across the bar to them. “It’s, uh, fancy seeing the three of you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Cleo asks.

“I haven’t really figured that out.” My eyes meet Lilly’s. “It sounds crazy to say it out loud. But I was hoping that—I’m not sure if Lilly told you—”

“That Jake’s alive.” Cleo nods. “None of us ever really thought he wasn’t.”

I don’t think she means it as a dig—but it still feels like one. Like she’s saying you gave up on him you gave up on him you gave up on him even though she’s not and she didn’t really know him and the only person I can talk to at this table who even might understand is Lilly and even—Jake didn’t confide in her the way he did me.

“Right.” I acknowledge. “So I thought that maybe if I came here, I could trace his steps from when he was here and—I haven’t really thought that far ahead. It’s not like I thought he left me any clues in the forest or anything like that. I don’t think he expected me to be here. He hadn’t wanted me to be the last time we talked. But that was before everything happened.”

Lilly’s eyes track behind me. “Does Jake still have Nymos on your phone?”

“Uh.” I furrow my brows. “I think so. I hadn’t heard from him in a while, but I went back and read through our messages after I talked to Alan and…my phone glitched, like it used to when Jake had hacked it. And then this message appeared on my screen.”

“And by chance, can Nymos track your location?”

“What—” I shake my head. “Maybe. I don’t think I ever really asked him. It didn’t seem necessary at the time.”

“Uh huh.” She focuses on me once more. “Let’s say, for one minute, that Jake has access to Nymos who has access to your location.”

Cleo must catch onto something I’m not sure of. “Jake didn’t want you here.”

“Uh, thank you?”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She waves me off. “He didn’t want you in Duskwood. He had been adamant about that when we were talking about the mine. That’s why he went. If you showed up in Duskwood—”

“Nymos would have alerted him.” Dan finishes.

“Okay…” I’m not entirely sure I’m on the same page as them. “So—you think that Jake found out when I came to Duskwood.”

“Correct.” Lilly beams like she just solved life’s greatest mystery.

“And you think he would—come find me?”

She smiles sympathetically at me—like I’m the world’s biggest idiot for not realizing what she has been trying to say sooner. “I think he already has.”

“You think Jake’s in Duskwood.” I deadpan.

“[MC].” Cleo grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “We think he’s in this bar.”

Stranger, as I had nicknamed him—AKA the guy sitting beside me at the bar, with Phil and Redlog Pines (which he probably only knew about because of me) and the whole Hannah being kidnapped and not taking any of the credit thing—was looking back at me. So was Phil. Like they thought I was the crazy one. Like it would’ve been so hard for him to look and me and say it’s me or anything that might have clued me into the fact that—

“Jake?” I whisper, because I’ve lost quite a bit of sleep over the past couple of months and I’m not one hundred percent sure what—or who—I’m seeing is real. “Are you here?”

He tilts his head and smiles at me. Actually smiles. A bit shyly, like it’s something he’s not used to doing, but maybe like it’s something he could get used to. And I think about how terrible I probably look right now because I’m not wearing makeup and my hair is tousled from constantly pulling at it and my clothes are wrinkled from the plane and the police station and I look like a mess. But our relationship has never been about looks. Clearly. I didn’t even know the person I’d been talking to until Lilly and Cleo and even Dan pointed out the obvious.

“If I—” I close my eyes and open them again. Nope. Still there. “I need you to still be there by the time I reach you because it’s been a—” I sniffle. “—it’s been a rough few months and I don’t think I could handle you disappearing again.”

He stands from the stool he was sitting on and shuffles his feet. Like he’s not quite sure where he’s supposed to stand. If he thinks about moving, I’ll tackle him onto the floor of The Aurora and then apologize to Phil later. It feels like everything I wanted is right here in front of me. And I’m scared to death that it’s not real.

“What’s one thing you would take with you if you were stranded on an island?”

His smile stretches. “My computer.”

And that—that’s what breaks me. I think I might start blubbering like an idiot but I don’t remember the time it takes for me to cross the measly twenty feet between us. All I remember is grabbing his black hoodie—because of course—and dragging him to me. I don’t kiss him, despite how much I want to, because I don’t want our first kiss to be tainted with my snot and tears. Instead, I bury my face in his collarbone and wrap my arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.

Because I can. Because he isn’t dead.

“Y—You’re here.” I pull back and cup his face with my hands. “How are you here?”

“You came to Duskwood.” He responds, and then—hesitantly—he presses his lips to my forehead in a kiss. “Alan called you.”

“He found your things in the forest.” I whisper back. “He said they’d been there a while. The police hadn’t searched the forest because they assume you died in the mine.”

“They aren’t looking for me here.” He confirms. “I didn’t expect it to take so long for them to find my belongings, but I anticipated that you would find out. At the time, it wasn’t safe for me to reach out and contact you. They kept on my trail for a while before they assumed I died in the mine with Richy.”

“Why didn’t you contact me then?” I ask. “Is it because of what I last messaged you? I didn’t mean it—I swear, I thought you were dead. If I had known you were alive, I would have waited, however long it took. I wasn’t trying to give up on you.”

“Hey.” He places both hands on either side of my face. “I know. I know that, [MC]. That was never why I didn’t reach out to you. I know you said you wanted this life with me. But I didn’t want that for you. But I was selfish. I couldn’t let you go. So I was trying to find a way to make both of those things true. But I was always coming back to you.”

“And did you?”

“Come back to you?” He asks.

I sniffle. “Find a way to make both of those things true.”

“Not entirely.” He admits. “Nymos alerted me you had boarded a plane headed in the direction of Duskwood and I—” He shook his head. “I knew I would find you here.”

“You could have found me sooner.”

He lets go of my face and he feels like he takes my skin with him. “It wasn’t that easy.”

“It could have been.” I demand.

I’m angry again. Now that I know he’s alive and okay and that he could have found me, I’m angry that he didn’t. I told him I would choose that life with him. Over and over and over. He didn’t need to make the decision for me. He didn’t need to try and protect me. And yes, maybe the fact that he did makes my heart flutter a tiny little bit, but that’s besides the point.

“I told you before you left me.” I tell him and I’m aware it sounds like we’ve been in a relationship for five years and I’m aware that everybody in here is watching and listening in on our conversation and they probably all know we’re who we are, two people involved in helping to find the kidnapped Hannah Donfort, and maybe that’s all we’ll ever be in this town. But I would rather be the girl who found Hannah Donfort in Duskwood with him than be me anywhere else. “You told me you would let me go with you.”

“That was before I told you I loved you.”

My heart skips a beat. It screams I love you I love you I love you back, but I say— “What does that have to do with anything?”

He looks somewhat amused. Like he knows I would never hold it against him. It’s clear to both of us that I wouldn’t because even though I’m glaring up at him with my furrowed eyebrows and my lips pouted, I’m still pressed tightly against him. His hands—even though they’ve moved from my face—are now resting on my hips. Pulling my tighter to him. There’s no space in between us. If it was up to me, I’m pretty sure there never would be again.

“[MC].” He says, and oh god I wish he would say my name every day for the rest of his life. “Have I—in the short time we have known each other—ever struck you as the type of person who says I love you? But with you…” His words are a whisper against my lips. “It’s easy to fall back into old emotions with you.”

“I want to be angry with you.” I tell him.

He shakes his head. “No, you don’t.”

“No, I don’t.” I agree. “But I might be if you don’t kiss me.”

He brought one finger underneath my chin and tilted it up until our lips were separated by a fraction of an inch. My eyelids fluttered. I didn’t care that everyone in here was about to see just how much Jake meant to be. I didn’t care because I had waited too long for this. And then—just as I’m leaning toward him to press our lips together, he whispers— “[MC]?”

“Hm.” I acknowledge.

“Who’s Eric?”

My eyelids crack open and I shove at his chest. “That’s what you’re worried about right now? Here I am, in front of you, covered in snot and tears and who-knows-what-else because you’re here right now, and you’re worried about some guy I don’t even know?”

“Who’s Eric?” He repeats.

“Ugh.” I run my hands through my hair and take a step back. “I don’t know. He’s the other side of Thomas or whatever you want to call him. If we lived in a different town.” I glare back at him and try not to admit that I think his jealous side is a little cute. “He messaged me. Thought I picked up his friend from some parking lot and I didn’t, but his friend sent him my number, and it was Hannah all over again. I’m trying to help them.”

“This Adam has been sending you a lot of videos.”

“You know I hate when you hack my phone.” I complain, even though I really don’t. Even though I had prayed for him to help me with this case. “I really don’t know Adam. Like—even less than I know Eric.

“But you know Eric.”

“For like a week.” I reassure. “He added me to this group chat with him and like three other friends of his. They’re desperate to find Adam who has apparently dropped off the face of the earth and I don’t know what to do. I had you with Hannah’s case. And you knew her. And they—” I look over my shoulder at Cleo and Dan and Lilly, who are pretending like they’re not listening in even though I know and Jake knows they are. “—they knew her. And obviously Adam’s friends must know him but I don’t and you don’t and there is no Jake in Redlog Pines.”

“I don’t trust him.” He shakes his head. “Any of them.”

I laugh. “Jake, you didn’t trust half the people in this bar when we first started talking.” I look over at Phil and then Dan. “It doesn’t mean they committed a crime. If I had backed off when you asked me to help you find Hannah, we may never have.”

“I thought that was all thanks to me.” He sounds smug, like that little smiley face he loved to annoy me with (AKA make me fall in love with him). “Did he flirt with you?”

“No.” I deadpan. “I think he was focused on his missing friend.”

“I was focused on my missing sister.” He shoots back.

I close my mouth. Alright. He has a point. But I wasn’t flirting with Eric. He was focused on finding Adam and I was focused on mourning—and then finding—Jake. Maybe it felt like Eric and I were two sides of the same coin. Maybe that’s why I agreed to help him. Because I didn’t want to happen to him what I thought had happened to Jake—to me.

“You’re being ridiculous.” I say instead. “How do you think I could ever entertain the idea of being with somebody else when for the past three months—more than that if you count the time we have actually had together—I’ve been focused on you? On discussing Hannah with you and then talking to you about anything and everything and then worrying about you and then hating you a little for convincing me you should me the one to go into the mine and then mourning you when it was hard to even think about you and then finding you?”

His eyes are wide. I think I’ve rendered him speechless. Which—serves him right. I know he’s not somebody who serves their feelings up on a silver platter. I know that. Obviously, I knew that from the first time I spoke to him. Back when he was nothing more than ??? and I was almost convinced that Dan was right and he was the Man Without A Face—a thought that I now hate with everything in me. But I need him to trust me. Jealousy streak and FBI and the missing persons cases aside, he needs to trust me.

“Trust me.” I cup the sides of his face again. “He’s nothing like you.”

He swallows. “Some people might consider that to be a perk.”

“I don’t.” I say.

And then I’m kissing him and it feels like coming home.

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #duskwood jake #duskwood jake x mc #moonvale everbyte #moonvale #duskwood fanfic #duskwood mc #everbyte game #everbyte studios

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dianawinchester03 · 16 hours

Text

Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves a Clown

Series Masterlist

Y/N's POV

John Winchester is dead.

My father is dead.

We're all now officially orphans.

The boys and I are stood out in the open, in a forest. Infront of a flaming pyre, in flames was their fathers body. John's body. I had no idea what to say to them, how to console. Tears in both me and Sam's eyes as we stare at the burning pyre. Deans face was stoic, emotionless. Almost as blank as mine was when I was watching my father burn.

Tears threatened to escape his ducts. I knew exactly how they were feeling, but I have no idea how to console them. I know when it was me, I wanted no one touching me. Dean was truly the only one I didn't want to push off, still grief ridden with dad and now John gone. Dean just stared at his fathers burning corpse, not daring to move a muscle.

John was like a father to me but Dean adored his father. I gently wrapped my arm around his waist, laying my head on his shoulder. His body was initially stiff before I wrapped my arm around him, he seemed to relax a bit when I laid my head on his shoulder. "Before he— Before he—" Sam tries to get the words out but he couldn't, I give him a sympathetic look, wrapping my arm around his waist now, he takes a deep breath, wiping away his tears.

"Did he say anything to you? About anything?" Sam asks Dean. I look up at Dean to see hesitant look on his face, but he just shakes his head, "No. Nothing." he said simply responds in a deadpan tone. His eyes still trained on the pyre. Sam bites his lips, holding back his sobs.

________________________________

Third Person POV

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

One Week Later

Dean is below his car in Bobby's scrapyard, Three Dog Nights by Shambala blurring through the stereo of Baby as he tries somehow to repair her. Him and y/n blew a fuse when they saw what happened to their babies. Y/N broke down even more after seeing her girl so mangled. The last bit she had from her father, demolished.

She's about halfway there when it comes to restoring Quinn back to her original glory but it'll take a whole lotta money and patience. Neither of which y/n had right now. Her knee was somewhat better, surprisingly she didn't take long to heal from the injury but she still had her cast on. Y/N strolls out with a cold beer in one hand and a sandwich with a slice of apple pie she baked herself in another.

"How's the car coming along?" She asks. "Slow" Dean responds plainly. "Yeah? Come on out. I've got something for you" She tells him. Dean pulls himself out from underneath with the board, "Stop it, Y/N" Dean grunts, pulling himself up to go over to the tool trolley. "Stop what?" She feigns confusion. "Stop asking if I need anything. Stop asking if I'm okay. Stop bringing me stuff" He gestures to the sandwich, pie and beer.

Her heart hurts a bit at this. "Dean, you haven't eaten all day" She stresses. "Not hungry. I'm okay, really. I promise" He assures her. She rolls her eyes, knowing he's full of shit. She then rests the food and beer down next to him on the tool trolley. "Alright, Dean. It's just— we've been at Bobby's for a week and you haven't brought up your dad once." She finally points out the obvious.

Dean turns to her, "You know what? You're right. Come here" He beckons her over to him, she then sighs in relief. "I wanna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry, hug. Maybe even slow dance" He says sarcastically with a smile. Her face hardens as he moves back over to the car. "Don't patronize me, Dean. Not right now" She scoffs. "Our dads are 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 happen" She stresses.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean snaps. "Say something! Alright!" She snaps back frustrated. His gaze snaps over to her, "Hell, say anything. Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out her all day long, buried underneath this damn car!" She argues as Deans face hardens. "Now I get it, you don't wanna talk, trust me. I do" She puts her hands up in surrender. "But the least you can do is eat" She says gently pointing to the food.

"Revenge huh?" Dean scoffs, clenching his jaw. "Yeah" She nods, placing her hands on her hips. "Sounds good. Got any leads on where the demon is? You making heads or tails on any of their research? Cuz I sure ain't" Dean retorts back snarkily. Y/N sighs, running her hands over her face. "But you, when we do finally find it...Oh. No, wait. Like you said, the Colts gone. But I'm sure you figured out another way to kill it" He further ridicules.

Y/N doesn't answer, "We got nothing, Princess. Nothing, okay? See, the only thing I can do, is I can work on the car" He finishes, pointing to Baby. He then stoops down infront of it. She sighs, "Well, we got something, alright? That's what I came out here to tell you. It's one of dad's old phones" She explains to him, taking out one of her fathers old phones from her pocket, going through the voicemail.

"It took me a while but I cracked his voicemail code, Sam did the same for John's phone. Listen to this" She hands him the phone. Dean takes it, getting up and puts it to his ear. "F/N, it's Ellen. Again. Look don't be stubborn. You know I can help you and John. Call me" The woman, Ellen, over the phone's voicemail says in a impatient pleading tone. Deans eyebrows shoot up as he hands the phone back to Y/N.

"There was an identical one on John's phone. That message is four months old and the one on your dad's phone is 6 months old" Y/N tells him, taking the phone from him. "Dad and f/n saved those voicemails for months?" He asks surprised. "Yeah" Y/N confirms. "Who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?" He further asks. She shakes her head, "Sam looked but came up empty. But I ran a trace on the phone number and I got an address" She informs him.

Dean shrugs, "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars." He instructs her. "Yeah, okay" She responds, going to walk back to the house. She then turns back of a sudden, "Eat" She orders him firmly in a motherly tone. Dean sighs exasperatedly, he then takes up the fork on the place and digs into the pie. He gives her a thumbs up as a satisfied smile takes her face over. She then turns away to walk back to the house.

Dean internally moaned when he tasted the pie. His eyes fluttered shut in satisfaction since he lied about not being hungry but damn did it taste heavenly.

Christ, why didn't I eat this earlier. This woman can cook.

He thinks to himself. Contemplating whether or not to put that ring his father gave him to use.

________________________________

Central, Nebraska

The trio are pull up to Harvelle's Roadhouse in one of Bobby's old cars. The car squealing as they pull in, Do That To Me One More Time by Captain and Tennilles blurring through the radio deck. "This is humiliating" Dean grumbles annoyed at the fact he's driving an old squeaky car that isn't his.

As they exit the car, Dean slams the drivers door harshly, "I feel like a fucking soccer mom!" He exclaims in frustration. "It's the only car Bobby had running" Y/N points out. Dean rolls his eyes as they make their way to the bar's porch. "Hello? Anybody here?" Sam calls out but no answer. "Hey. Did you bring the uh-?" Dean asks Y/N, gesturing to her lock pick.

"Of course" She says smugly, tossing it to him. He begins to pick the lock. The enter the empty bar, locking the door behind them. The buzzing of a fly getting electrocuted on the mosquito trap scares them slightly as the look around the place. They walk in deeper to see a man with a mullet, passed out on the pool table.

"Hey buddy?" Sam calls out to him, but he's does wake. "I'm guessing that isn't Ellen" Y/N mutters. "Yeah" Dean sighs. Sam and Dean decide to go around back and see if they find anyone, leaving y/n alone in the bar. Her body stiffens when she feels the butt of a rifle gun pressed against her back. "Oh, God. Please let that be a rifle" She mumbles. The gun then cocks behind her.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you" The voice of a young girl sounds in a sarcastic tone. "Don't move" The girl orders. "Not moving. Copy that." Y/N says, putting her arms up. She clears her throat awkwardly, "You know, you should know something, miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't wanna put it right against their back..." She says in a smug tone "....because it makes it real easy to do-" She then swiftly turns, snatching the rifle from the young blonde girl.

Y/N cocks the gun with a smirk on her face, "That" She retorts smugly, the girl goes to punch her but she quickly dodges, sweeping the girl off her feet by hooking the back of her knee with hers. The girl falls back first onto the ground, her hands up in surrender, a look of shock on her face as y/n cocks the rifle in her face. "Dean! Sam! Get out here!" Y/N calls for the boys.

The boys exit the back kitchen with their hands to their heads, "Sorry, Y/N. We're, uh, a little tied up" Dean says nervously, blood dripping down his nose, as a woman emerges behind them, pointing two guns to their heads. "Sam? Dean? Y/N?" The woman queries. "Winchester and L/N?" She asks. "Yeah" The boys and Y/N respond in unison.

"Son of a bitch" The woman says in shock. "Mom, you know them?" The girl asks from the ground, y/n still has her rifle aimed at her. "Yeah, I think these are John Winchesters boys. And that's F/N L/N's little girl." She says in recognition before lowering her guns and laughing. "Hey, I'm Ellen. My daughter, Jo" The woman introduces herself.

Y/N sighs in relief, lowering the gun away from Jo. "Hey. Sorry" Y/N chuckles awkwardly, apologizing to Jo. She then stretches her arm out to help Jo up. She slightly glares at Y/N before a smile breaks out on her face. "I can't lie, you got some nice moves" Jo compliments her, accepting her hand. Y/N smiles as she helps her to her feet.

"Thanks, you're not to bad yourself hun" She returns the compliment, winking at her. Jo smiles at this, accepting the compliment. "Hey" Jo nods towards Dean, giving him a slightly flirtatious smile. Dean chuckles awkwardly before turning to Ellen, holding his bloody nose, "You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" He asks, she chuckles shaking her head.

After putting away their guns, "Here you go" Ellen hands Dean a cloth with ice to put over his nose where she pistol whipped him. "Thanks" Dean responds. "Mhm" Ellen says. "You called our dad and f/n, said you could help. Help with what?" Dean asks as he presses the ice cloth to his nose. "Well, the demon, of course" Ellen answers as if it's obvious. Dean turns to Sam and Y/N behind him, surprised she knew about it.

"I heard they were closing in on it" Ellen adds. "Was there an article in Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who are you, how do you know about all this?" Dean asks defensively. "Hey, I just run a saloon" Ellen puts up her hands in defense. "But, hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dads a long time again. They were like family once" Ellen further explains.

"Oh, yeah? How come they've never mentioned you before?" Y/N asks defensively. Ellen's face drops and Y/N notices this, "You'd have to ask them that" Ellen responds in a low tone. The boys and y/n share a look at this. "So why exactly do we need your help?" Dean asks. "Hey, don't do me any favors. Look if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass in the way out" Ellen snaps back.

"But John and F/N wouldn't have sent you guys if-" She begins to say but stops mid sentence, realization dawning on her. "They didn't send you" She says. Their heads drop in solemn, sharing a look of grief. "They're alright, aren't they? Is F/N okay?" Ellen asks them nervously, tears welling up in her eyes. Y/N cocks her eyebrow at her sudden concern for her father.

Dean swallows the lump in his throat as Sam and Y/N blick back tears. "No, no he didn't. It was the demon, we think. And um, it just got dad before he got it. I guess" Sam says sadly. "And f/n?" Ellen asks y/n hopeful he was okay. But she shakes her head, "Vampire hunt" Y/N responds in a dry tone, not wanting to talk about it further. "I'm so sorry" Ellen says sincerely.

"It's okay. We're alright" Dean assures her, offering a fake smile. "Really. I know how close you and your dad-" Ellen goes to say but Dean cuts her off. "Really. I'm fine" He assures her further, but she isn't convinced. The silence is a bit awkward so Sam cuts in, "So, look. If you can help....we could use all the help we can get" Sam says softly.

Dean turns to him with a look of disbelief and y/n slightly glares at Sam. "Well, we can't" Ellen says, turning to Jo, then back to them. "But Ash will" She smiles. "Who's Ash?" Y/N asks, cocking her eyebrow. "Ash!" Ellen calls out for him. That's when the man who was passed out on the pool table earlier suddenly wakes up, the balls on the table clanking as he gets up.

"What?!" He answers as the trio turn to him. Grimaces on their faces. "Closing time?" He asks in a croaky voice. "That's Ash?" Sam asks, pointing behind him to the man. Jo nods, "Mm-hm. He's a genius" Jo responds nodding.

Later, Dean slaps down Johns journal infront of Ash at the bar counter. "You gotta be kidding me. This guys no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie" Y/N huffs not convinced. Ash chuckles before winking at her, a smug smile on his face. "I like you cupcake" He says in a flirtatious tone. Deans jaw clenches at Ash's tone, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at him. That burning jealousy raising again.

Y/N rolls her eyes chuckling a bit, "Thanks Billy Ray" She smiles back as Ash pumps his eyebrows at her. She wasn't into him but he was a flirt she didn't mind getting behind. Something to distract her anyhow, "Just give him a chance." Jo says to them as she rests the glasses down on the counter with a pitcher of water in her hand.

Dean sighs, scratching his nose before sitting between Sam and Y/N, "Alright. This stuffs is about a years worth of our dads work. So uh, let's see what you make of it" Dean smirks, sliding the journal over to Ash. He opens the book as Sam and Y/N sip on their waters. He begins to sift through the research before shaking his head, "Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody that can track a demon like this" Ash says, leaning back in his chair.

The three share a look, "Our dads could" Sam says firmly. Ash looks between the three hunters before picking up a paper from the research, "These are nonparametric statistical overviews. Cross spectrum correlations. I mean....damn" Ash says impressed as he looks through the papers. "They're signs. Omens. If you can track them, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms." He explains as they listen.

"You ever been struck by lightening? It ain't fun" Ash trails off from the topic. Y/N rolls her eyes. "Can you track it or not?" She asks a bit irritated. "Yeah, with this. I think so. But it's gonna take time. Uh, give me...." He says before blinking rapidly to think for second. "....51 hours" He finishes, picking up all the research. The trio share a look at this, shaking their heads. "Hey, man" Dean calls out to Ash.

"Yeah?" Ash responds, "By the way, I, uh, dig the haircut" Dean snickers but Ash smirks, flipping his hair. "All business upfront, party in the back." Ash smirks before giving y/n a wink then walking out. Y/N shakes her head chuckling as she sips her water. Dean rolls his eyes but it trails over to Jos ass, his eyes meet with hers to when she notices he was checking her out.

Y/N notices this and huffs internally, that burning feeling in her chest reappearing. Oh god, not now. She groans internally. Meanwhile, Sam's eyes were on a folder marked with 'Couple Murdered. Child Left Alive' in the back of the bar. "Hey Ellen, what is that?" Sam asks her curiously. She turns to the machine she thinks he's pointing at. "It's a police scanner. We, uh, keep tabs on things" She tells him as Dean gets up to go over to where Jo is.

"No, no, no. The, um, folder" He says, Ellen then turns and begins walking over to the folder behind the machine. Picking it up, "Uh. I was gonna give this to a friend of mine. But, take a look if you guys want" She hands the folder to Sam and Y/N. "Thanks" Sam mutters. His full attention now on the folder but y/n's eyes are trained at Dean and Jo who seem to be flirting up a storm.

Her grip tightens on her glass of water, as she grits her teeth. Her eye twitches with envy as the fury of jealousy swarms in her stomach. The light above her began to flicker, controlling it without realizing it. Sam and Ellen's heads snap to to the flickering light in confusion. Sam quickly picked up on what was going on when he saw Y/N's eyes were narrowed in Dean and Jo's direction.

Her mind was clouded, too clouded to realize that, thanks to her, a light above her sparked and blew out of nowhere, causing both Sam, Ellen, Dean and Jo to get startled. The glass from the busted light scattered around them. "Goddamnit, I fixed that just last week!" Ellen exclaims in frustration, resting down her bar cloth. Y/N broke her gaze away from them, still gripping her glass.

"Last time I buy from Arties Hardware" Ellen grumbles whilst walking to the back to get the spare light bulb and a broom. When Sam sees Y/N was seconds away breaking the glass, he quickly takes it away from her. "Easy there, Matilda" He chuckles awkwardly patting her shoulder. Cautiously resting the glass down away from her. She snapped out of the trance she was in and when she realizes what happened, her face became flushed with embarrassment.

"Christ, sorry, I don't know what got into me" She apologizes, mortified. "I think we need to look into psychics, you know? Figure out how you can control your powers?" Sam suggests. Y/N clears her throat awkwardly, she and the boys haven't discussed what has happened over the course of the past few weeks. From her summoning the Colt to her hand to her seeing Dean as a ghost when he was dying.

She expected them to be more freaked out but with everything they've seen and been through. They love her regardless, she's scared they'll see her as a freak but it's far from the truth. "And what about you? I'm not the only ESP machine around here" Y/N retorts jokingly, nudging Sam. He smiles chuckling. "Yeah, but you're more advanced. Wouldn't hurt to check it out" He shrugs, she sighs nodding.

"That'll be a good idea" She responds. Something catches Sams eye in the folder. "Dean, come here. Check this out" Sam calls out to his brother. "Yeah?" Dean gets up from the booth he and Jo were at, walking over to Sam and Y/N as he rolls up his sleeves. "A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt" Sam explains. "Yeah, so?" Dean asks. "So, maybe we all should check it out" Sam suggests.

________________________________

Later that night, the trio are on their way to the hunt in Bobby's car. "You gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean scoffs. "Yeah, he left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces actually" Sam informs them from the back seat, using his light to read the staples together research in the Manila folder. "This family was at some carnival that night?" Y/N asks, taking a drag from her cigarette, her elbow propped on the passenger side window.

"Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnival" Sam nods, reading from the file. "So how do you know that we're not dealing with some psycho carny in a clown suit?" Dean queries. "Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus, the girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course" Sam says.

"I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?" Y/N taunts, chuckling along with Dean as Sam rolls his eyes. "Give me a break" Sam scoffs. "You didn't think we remembered, did you?" Dean laughs. Sam doesn't answer, they snicker as he glares at them. "I mean, come on. You still busy out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television" Dean chuckles. "At least I'm not afraid of flying" Sam retorts to Dean as Y/N laughs hysterically, choking on the smoke.

"Planes crash!" Dean snaps defensively. "And apparently, clowns kill" Sam counters. Y/N shakes her head laughing at their banter as she flicks her cigarette out the window. "Okay, settle down fellas. So these types of murders, they ever happen before?" Y/N asks, changing the subject. "Uh...according to the file, 1981. The Bunker Brothers Circus. Same m.o. It happened three different times, three different locales." Sam tells her, reading from the file.

"It's weird though, if its a spirit, it's usually bound to a specific locale: a house or a town" Dean points out. "So how is this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" Y/N asks. "Cursed object, maybe" Dean suggests, turning to her. "The spirit attaches itself to something, carnival carries it around with them." He further explains.

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt" Sam mutters dryly. "This case was your idea." Dean retorts. "By the way. Why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job" Dean points out. "So?" Sam questions. "It's just not like you, that's all" Y/N adds. "Yeah. I thought you and y/n were hell bent for leather on this demon hunt" Dean says. "I don't know. I just think, taking this job. It's what Dad would've wanted us to do." Sam responds.

Dean cocks an eyebrow at this. "What dad would've wanted?" He questions. "Yeah. So?" Sam asks. Y/N picks up on Deans tone and flashes him a quick warning glare because he already looked like he was about to say something that would cause a fight. So he just sighed and shaked his head, "Nothing" Dean dismisses it.

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The old borrowed car with the trio pulls into the parking lot across from the carnival. "Check it out. Five-0" Dean points out the cops in the area questioning some clowns. They make their way into the grounds, Dean and Y/N take a look around, leaving Sam near the ferris wheel.

While walking back, they notice Sam was staring intently at a shorter woman with a fake beard, no more than three feet tall. He seemed a bit freaked out as the woman stared back at him. Dean and Y/N share an amused look at Sam's awkward expression. "Did you get her number?" Dean teases his brother, startling him as Y/N snickers.

Sam just cringes, not answering as they all lean against the railing. "More murders?" Sam asks them. "Two more last night. Apparently they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them" Y/N informs him. "Who fingers a clown" Sam scoffs. Dean and Y/N cock an eyebrow at his choice of words, giving him a weirded out expression.

"What?" Sam asks confused. They choose to ignore it, "Yes, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air" Dean confirms. "Guys, you know, looking for a cursed object, it's like..trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. It could be anything" Sam says. "Yeah, you're right. But it's bound to give off EMFs. We'll just have to scan everything" Dean shrugs, turning to Y/N with a smirk on his face.

"Oh good, that's nice and inconspicuous" Sam chuckles sarcastically. "Plus, we got our warrior princess here" Dean nudges Y/N, patting her on the small of her back. She scoffs, rolling her eyes. Feeling a bit flushed at the way Dean casually patted her back. "I'm not a human EMF meter, Dean" She says exasperated. Crossing her arms over her chest, Dean just chuckles giving her a wink.

"I guess we'll just have to blend in" Dean shrugs, his eyes trained on the 'Help Wanted' sign. They all share a look before approaching the tent that the sign was taped to. The enter the tent to see a man with dark shades and a suit on, throwing knives at a large wooden dart board. "Excuse me. We're looking for a Mr. Copper. Have you seen him around?" Dean politely asks the man.

"What is that, some kind of a joke?" The man scoffs in an offended tone. He then takes off his glasses to reveal his synthetic eye. Y/N places a hand over her mouth at the irony, trying to hold back a snicker. "Oh, God. I'm sorry" Dean tries to apologize as the man continues to ramble. "You think I wouldn't give my eyeteeth to see Mr. Cooper..or a sunset or anything at all"

"You two wanna give me a little help here?" Dean mutters to the two younger hunters whose faces at laced with amusement. "Not really" Y/N mutters back as Sam shakes his head rapidly, holding back his laughter. Dean feigns a smile, looking around awkwardly. "Hey, Barry. Is there a problem?" A voice behind them asks the man. They look around at eye level, only to be met with no one.

They simultaneously look down to be met with a shorter set man, wearing a blue matador outfit with a cape. "Yeah, this guy hates blind people" Barry, the blind man, informs the matador. "No, I don't-" Dean tries to clarify, chuckling awkwardly. "Hey, buddy. What's your problem?" The matador asks in an standoffish tone. "Nothing, it's just a little misunderstanding" Dean tries to dismiss it, only making it worse.

Y/N physically facepalms at this, "Little? You son of a bitch" The matador scoffs, holding up his bat ready to beat Dean with it. Dean flinches back, "No, no, no, no, no! I'm just- Can somebody tell me where Mr. Cooper is?!" He exclaims as Sam and Y/N burst out laughing at the scene unraveling in-front of them. "Please?" Dean asks Barry nervously.

________________________________

"You three picked a hell of a time to join up. Take a seat" Mr. Cooper tells the three hunters as they walk into his office. Dean and Y/N spot three chairs, two normal and one clown chair. They share a mischievous look before rushing to sit on the two normal chairs, leaving the clown chair for Sam. "We got all kinds of local trouble" Mr. Cooper says as Dean and Y/N smirk victoriously at Sam.

Who lets out an exasperated sigh at their childishness. "What do you mean?" Y/N asks Mr. Copper feigning curiosity as Sam nervously takes a seat on the clown chair, grimacing in displeasure. "Well, a couple of folks got themselves murder. Cops always seem to start here first." Mr. Cooper answers as Dean smirks at Sam's discomfort.

"So, you three every worked the circuit before?" Mr. Cooper begins the interview. "Uh, yes, sir. Last year through Texas and Arkansas" Sam casually lies as Dean and Y/N nod. "Doing what? Ride jockeys? Butcher? A&S people?" Mr. Cooper queries. They're all confused by this but continue to keep up the ruse, nodding as if they understood.

"Yeah, uh. Little bit of everything, I guess" Y/N lies fluidly. Mr. Cooper looks at them suspiciously, "You three have never worked a show in your lives before, have you?" He calls them out on their bullshit, catching them in their act. "Nope" Dean responds with an awkward smile. "But we really need the work. So- And, uh Sam here has got a thing for the bearded lady" Dean chuckles, pointing to his little brother.

Earning a glare from Sam and a snicker from Y/N. "You see that picture?" Mr. Cooper points to an old picture with a man who looked identical to him, a fedora on, near the Ferris wheel. "That's my daddy" He says. "You look just like him" Sam says smiling. "He was in the business. Ran a freak show, till they outlawed them most places. Apparently, displaying the deformed isn't dignified" Cooper informs them.

"So, most of the performers went from honest work to rotting in hospitals and asylums. That's profess, I guess" Cooper shrugs as they listen on. "You see, this place, it's a refuge for outcasts. Always has been. For folks that don't fit in nowhere else. But you three..." He explains, leaning forward in his chair. "You should go to school. Find a couple girls or guy. Have 2.5 kids. Live regular" He advices them wisely.

Dean rolls his eyes as Y/N internally groans. Sam then leans forward, "Sir.....We don't wanna go to school. And we don't want regular. We want this" Sam says firmly, Y/N cocks an eyebrow at this along with Dean. Surprised by Sam's statement, they share an uneasy look.

Now walking back outside, "Huh" Dean mumbles. "What?" Sam asks. "That whole, uh, 'I don't wanna go back to school' thing. Were you saying that to Cooper or were you, you know, saying it?" Dean asks. Sam couldn't find the right answer, "Sam?" Y/N calls out to him. "I don't know" Sam sighs, responding honestly. "You don't know? I thought once the demon was dead and the fat lady sing, that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State" Dean blurts out.

"I'm having second thoughts" Sam turns to them. "Really?" Y/N asks surprised. "Yeah, I think. Dad would've wanted me to stick with the job" Sam shrugs. "Since when do you give a damn what dad wanted?" Dean snaps, y/n sighs at this. Faceplaming again at Deans tone. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam" Dean scoffs.

"Since he died. Okay?" Sam retorts. Dean nods, a displeased look on his face. "You have a problem with that?" Sam asks in a standoffish tone. Dean goes to snap back but Y/N steps between them, "I don't mean to butt in, but now is not the time nor the place fellas." She chimes in firmly, giving them a warning look.

Dean sighs, "Sorry, Princess." He apologizes sincerely. "No, I don't have a problem at all" He growls at his brother before walking off.

________________________________

Later, Sam is wearing a red jacket with 'Cooper Carnival On The Go' printed on it in white. Currently picking up discarded trash by the carnival attendees on the floor with a clamp stick, shoving it into a big blue bag as the patrons scream on the rides. He had his EMF meter stuffed in his jacket, a pair of headphones shoved in his ear to pick up any frequencies.

He takes a cautious look around before heading to the funhouse, waiting for some of the girls who were inside to file out. He then makes his way into the funhouse. He pulls out his EMF meter as the sounds of screaming over a recording plays throughout the room. Then scanning the organ pipes near some of the colorful framed mirrors.

The EMF doesn't give off any frequencies. Sam almost shat his pants when a fake skeleton came descending from the roof in a flash, causing him to almost bump into some teenage girls behind him, who giggle at his fearful look. Sam breathes out a shaky breath as he glares at the skeleton. He scans it but nothing comes up. He then leaves the funhouse before taking out his phone to call Y/N.

Meanwhile, Dean and Y/N open up a large dumpster, tossing the trash in their big blue bags into the can. Dressed identical to Sam, "Jesus, people are so filthy" Y/N gags in disgust at the garbage she picked up from around the carnival. "Amen" Dean mutters in agreement, grimacing from the putrid smell.

Y/N's phone then rings, she hands Dean the stick and bag. Fishing her phone from her jacket pocket, flipping it open to see it's Sam. "Hello?" She answers. Dean then presses his ear to the back of her phone, his light stubble brushing against her smooth cheek. Y/N's heartbeat quickens at their close contact and so does Dean's. "Hey, man" Sam responds shakily.

"What's the matter? You sound like you just saw a clown" Dean taunts his little brother chuckling, as Y/N rolls her eyes, hiding her snicker. "Very funny" Sam deadpans. "Skeleton, actually" He says ironically, causing Dean and Y/N to be confused at this. "Like a real human skeleton?" Y/N asks. "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?" Sam suggests.

"Did the bones give off EMF?" Dean asks. "Well, no but-" Sam goes to say but Dean cuts him off. "We should check it out anyway" Dean suggests. "We're heading to you" Y/N tells him, then hanging up the phone. She and Dean share a nod before walking off towards the funhouse. That's when, Barry, the blind man from earlier, suddenly appears.

Grabbing Dean by his arm. "What are you two kids doing here?" Barry asks them suspiciously. Dean and Y/N share a nervous look, "We're just sweeping" Dean covers quickly. "Bullshit" Barry spits. "And what were you talking about? Skeletons? What's EMF?" Barry asks pressingly. They side glance at each other nervously again, "Dude, your blind man hearing is out of control" Y/N chuckles awkwardly.

"We're a tight knit group. We don't like outsiders. We take care of our own problems" Barry says defensively. "We got a problem?" Dean asks, cocking his eyebrow. "Well, you two tell me. You're the ones talking about human bones" Barry chuckles as if it's ridiculous. Dean gives y/n a look, she rapidly shakes her head but Dean ignores it.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" Dean asks Barry, leaning in closer. Y/N facepalms for what feels like the thousandth time today at Deans bigmouth. "What?" Barry scoffs confused. "My brother, my friend and me...um...we're all writing a book about them" Dean covers up his question with a lie, a sly smile on his face towards Y/N. She rolls her eyes at his smug smile.

After their conversation with Barry, they begin to make their way to the funhouse to meet up with Sam. Y/N reaches over and swiftly taps Dean on his head in annoyance. "Ow!" Dean yelps, clutching the back of his head. "What was that for?" He grumbles at her while she glares at him. " 'Do you believe in ghosts?' Why don't you just tell the midget while we're at it" She grumbles back sarcastically, shooting him a glare whilst he winced. Rubbing his head.

"Oh shut it, we found out some useful information" Dean defends. Y/N sighs, "Whatever" She grumbles. "What took you guys so long?" Sam asks them a bit annoyed. "Long story" Y/N huffs in response. "Mommy, look at the clown" A little girl near talking to her mother says, pointing. "What clown?" Her mother asks her confused.

This catches the attention of the three hunters. They begin to walk towards them only to see the girl was pointing to nothing, "Come on, sweetie. Come on" Her mother ushers her away. The three share a look, worried something might happen to this poor girls family.

________________________________

Later that night, they followed the family back to their house. Pulling up across the street to see the family from their large opened window in the living room. Dean puts the squeaky car in park as Sam lectures him. "Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown" Sam scoffs from the backseat.

"Yeah, tell me about it" Y/N huffs in agreement with Sam. "I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown. I never said it was real" Dean shrugs, pulling out his rock-salt gun. "Hey! Keep that down" Y/N snatches the gun away from Dean, earning an eyeroll from him. "Oh, and get this: I mentioned the Bunker Brothers Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil-clown apocalypse. Guess what?" Dean informs Sam.

"What?" Sam asks. "Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival. He worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager" He tells Sam. Realization dawns on Sam, "So basically, we think whatever the spirits attached to, Cooper brought it with him" Y/N adds. "Yeah, something like that" Dean agrees, looking out the car window at the family's house.

"I can't believe we keep talking about clowns" Dean mutters. "Yeah, tell me about it" Sam quipped up, gulping. Causing Dean and Y/N to chuckle.

Couple hours in, they're still staking out the house. Dean and Y/N had fallen asleep in the front, her head laid against his shoulder, his cheek pressed against the top of her head. Sam was still awake in the back seat, his eyes widened when he noticed the little girl from earlier was in the living room. "Dean, Y/N!" He nudged the two awake, their eyes shooting open to see the little girl in the living room, walking towards the front door.

They quickly jumped out of the car, rock salt guns cocked. They made their way around the house, looking for any open window. They finally came upon the bathroom window, Dean and Y/N gave Sam a boast to jump in, shimmying his large body through the small opened window. Dean then gave Y/N a boast, his hands gripping her waist as she pulls herself in, gliding through the window with ease.

Dean then followed behind, they creeped down the hallway leading out of the bathroom, backs pressed to the wall, Sam and Dean had their guns locked and loaded. They heard the jingling of bells as the little girl made her way down the hall, holding a clowns hand. "Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs" She says innocently, leading the clown to the stairs.

When their eyes landed on the clown, they jumped into action. "Hey! Hey!" Sam and Dean yelled, aiming their guns at the clown. Te little girl began to scream but Y/N swooped in and quickly grabbed the terrified screaming little girl, shielding her from the clown as Sam and Dean empty their shells into its chest. The clown fell to the ground, bleeding.

But in an instant, it got up back, a creepy smile on its face. Sam and Deans eyes widen with terror, "Y/N! Watch out!" Dean yells for Y/N to duck, she quickly does so. They move to attack the clown but it disapparated after jumping through the glass door, shattering on impact. Dean ran out to go after the clown but it disappeared. Y/N was still holding into the little girl, protecting her from the scene.

Y/N freezes when she sees the girls parents bend the corner, quickly letting go of the little girl, her hands up in surrender. "What's going on in here? What are you doing here?! Who the hell are you!" The girls fathers yells. "Oh my god! What are you doing to my daughter! Get out, get out of my house!" Her mother gasps terrified. Sam, Dean and Y/N shagged ass and ran out of there immediately.

________________________________

The next morning, the trio are packing up their stuff, slinging their bags over their shoulders. "You really think they saw our plates?" Y/N asks Dean as he shuts the trunk harshly. "I don't wanna take the chance. Besides, I hate this fucking thing anyway" Dean grumbles as they walk off, abandoning the car on a stretch, in the bushes.

"Well, one things for sure" Dean says. "What's that?" Sam asks as they walk down the stretch, walking side by side to Y/N. "We're not dealing with a spirit. That rocksalt hit something solid" Dean points out. "Yeah, I got nothing. No chills, at all" Y/N agrees. "Yeah. A person? Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?" Sam spitballs. "Yeah, and dress up as a clown for kicks?" Dean says sarcastically.

"Did it say anything in your dads journal?" Y/N asks Sam. "Nope." Sam sighs, pulling out his phone from his pocket. "Who you calling?" Dean asks. "Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash will know something" Sam shrugs. A thought flashes across his mind, a sly smile on his face. "Hey, you think, uh— ?" Sam chuckles. "You think F/N and Ellen ever had a thing?" Sam asks curiously.

Y/N grimaces at the thought, "No way" She cringes. "Agreed" Dean agrees. "Then why didn't they ever tell us about her? Plus she seemed more worried about F/N than she did Dad" Sam points out. "I don't know. Maybe they all had some sort of falling out" Dean shrugs. "Yeah." Sam agrees, looking down at his phone as they continue to walk.

"You ever notice our dads had a falling out with just about everybody?" Y/N points out chuckling a bit along with Sam. Dean didn't answer, his face stoic. "Well don't get all maudlin on them" Sam scoffs, hanging up the phone when he didn't get a response. "What do you mean?" Dean asks defensively. Sam and Y/N give him a knowing look, "I mean, this strong, silent thing of yours. It's crap, and I'm over it" Sam argues, causing Dean to groan and y/n to sigh internally.

Here we go, she thinks to herself. "Oh my god" Dean groans. "This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is dad and f/n. I know how you felt about them" Sam further argues. "You know what? Back off, alright? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to-" Dean goes to say but Sam cuts him off.

"No, no, no. That's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it, man." He lectures. "And so do you, Y/N" Sam turns to Y/N. Her gaze snaps to him, surprised. "Excuse me, but I am dealing. Just because I'm not gonna lean on your shoulder and sob 24/7 doesn't mean that I'm not dealing." She scoffs defensively.

Sam sighs in defeat. "Listen, y/n. I'm your best friend and Dean, I'm your brother. Alright? I just wanna make sure you two are okay" Sam tries to reason with them but Dean snaps. "Dude, we're okay! I'm okay, okay?! I swear the next person who asks if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwing punches!" Dean bellows. "These are your issues. Quit dumping them on us!" He further argues, stopping in his tracks to turn to Sam.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asks in a hurt tone, turning to his brother. "I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, 'Oh, what would Dad want me to do?'" Dean says ironically and Y/N glances between the two heated men nervously. "Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell." Dean chuckles humorlessly.

"You picked a fight with him the last time that you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, you wanna make it right? Well I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little, too late" Dean blurts out angrily, tears welling up in Sam's eyes. Y/N is in disbelief at his words. "Are you kidding me?!" She snaps. Dean is taken back by this along with Sam, "How could you even say that right now?! If you could say that to Sam, why can't you say that to me?!" She comes to Sam's defense.

"Because you're not saying, 'Oh, what would daddy want me to do?' No!" Dean further yells. "Screw that, you're being too biased and harsh right now. Don't take out your anger on, Sam!" She yells at him. "And you" She turns to Sam, pointing at him firmly. "People deal with grief differently, some wanna talk about it, some don't. So don't push us to talk about it if we don't wanna. It's just simple as that." She says firmly to Sam, turning back to Dean.

"Sam is only pushing because he cares, but arguing isn't gonna make this any better, Dean. They're dead! We can't fix that! We just have to deal with it" She says in an exasperated tone, tears welling up in her eyes. Dean immediately regretted his words towards his brother by the end of Y/N's rant. But Sam was too angry to look at Dean, "I'm gonna call Ellen." He simply says to them, walking forward to call her.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, princess" Dean apologizes sincerely to Y/N when his brother is out of earshot. "Yeah, me too charming" She returns the apology, looking down at the ground. "We've all just been through a lot these past few months. We're only human" She sighs. "But if you do ever wanna talk.." She begins. "Oh, god. Not this again" Dean groans exasperatedly. "Relax darling" She chuckles lightly.

"I mean it. We're family, I'm always here and so is Sam. Whether you wanna smash some beer bottles or sit in silence. I'm here" She assured him gently, giving him a soft smile. Dean's heart skipped a beat. She expected Dean to roll his eyes but he returned her smile, "I'll take you up on that offer" He promises her, she smiles flashing him a wink as they walk ahead closer to Sam.

"Thanks a lot" Sam says to Ellen before hanging up. "Rakshasa" Sam tells them. "What's that?" Dean and Y/N ask in unison. "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" Sam explains to them.

"So they dress up like clowns and the children invite them in" Dean says. "Yeah" Sam responds. "So why don't they just munch on the kids?" Y/N asks curiously. "No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Sam suggests. "What else did you find out?" Dean asks. "Well apparently, rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects" Sam informs them.

Y/N grimaces at the nasty thought, "How nice" She mutters. "Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every 20 to 30 years. Slow metabolism, I guess" Sam shrugs. "Well that, makes sense. I mean, the carnival today, the Bunker Brothers in '81." Dean lists off. "Right. Probably more before that" Y/N agrees. "Hey guys, who do we know that worked both shows?" Dean asks them knowingly.

"Cooper?" Sam and Y/N respond in unison. "Cooper" Dean nods. Sam scoffs a bit at this, shoving his hands in his pockets as Y/N shakes her head. It was so obviously right infront of them. "You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him" Y/N points out. "You think maybe it was him?" Dean asks them. "Well, who knows how old he is" Sam shrugs.

"Ellen say how to kill him?" Y/N asks Sam. "Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass" Sam responds. Dean thinks for a second before saying, his mind running to the blind knife thrower, "I think I know where to get one of those." He says. "Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we gonna wanna make damn sure it's him" Y/N says firmly.

"Oh, you're such a stickler for detail, y/n/n" Dean smirks at her, flashing her a wink. Y/N looks down smiling as Sam chuckles lightly. "Alright, I'll round up the blade. You two go check if Coopers got bedbugs" Dean instructs them, the trio still walking down the stretch.

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Later that night, Sam and Y/N were at the carnival a couple a patrons still in the area. Both near Coopers office. They make sure to look around to ensure there's no one there. They give each other a firm nod before Y/N pulls out her lock pick and begins picking the lock to Coopers office door.

Meanwhile, Dean is with Barry Papazian, the blind man. "Well, I got all kinds of knives. I don't know if I got a brass one, though" Barry says, opening the door to his booth.

A gun cocks behind Sam and Y/N who were inspecting under Coopers bed, their bodies immediately stiffen as they turn back quickly to see Cooper aiming a shotgun at them. "What do you think you're doing?" Cooper spits angrily at them.

Dean entered Barry's booth behind him, "Check in the trunk" Barry instructs him, waving his stick around as he walks in. Dean did so, opening the creaky old wooden trunk. He begins to rummage through it, his eyebrows creased in confusion when he found a red clown wig. Realization dawned on him when he picked it up and it jingled, exactly the way it did back at the little girls house.

He turns around to face Barry, "You?" Dean gasps in disbelief. Barry drops his stick to the ground, taking off his dark shades. "Me" Barry smirks darkly, his face contorting into a wide Joker-like grin, his eyes glowing silver. He waved at Dean menacingly before disapparating into thin air.

Dean instantly tries to bolt out of there but the door was jammed. Locked from the outside. Suddenly, a knife comes wielding at Dean, stabbing straight into the door infront of him. "Jesus!" Dean exclaims in terror. Another knife comes wielding at Dean and stabbed into the door. "Alright!" Dean screams before kicking down the door.

He stumbles through the door, falling over before quickly getting back onto his feet. Dean runs out into the open, "Hey!" Y/N calls out to him. He stops in his tracks and rushes over to them. "Hey" Dean breathes out relieved. "So, Cooper thinks we're peeping Toms, but it's not him" Sam informs him. "Yeah, so I gathered. It's the blind guys. He's here somewhere" Dean tells them quickly, looking around for Barry.

"Fuck, did you get the-?" Y/N asks him. "The brass blades? No. No it's just one of those days" Dean says, still looking around. Sams eyes flicker over to the funhouse. He nudged Y/N along with Dean. "I got an idea, come on" He says quickly, running towards the fun house.

Dean and Y/N share a look, shrugging and then follow behind him. They enter the funhouse of mirrors, only to be separated when the large black door comes closing in. "Sam!" Dean and Y/N call out to him, banging in the door. Separated from Sam. "Dean! Y/N!" Sam yells. "Guys, find the maze, okay?!" Sam screams through the door.

Dean and Y/N share a terrified look before looking around, a nasty clown scream echoing through the room. They walk down the hall cautiously, looking for the maze. A recording of a menacing laugh plays through the dark room.

On Sam's side, he approaches the steam organ playing. An idea flashes thriyub his head, he then tries to pick up one of the flutes from it but the steam burns his hands. Sam flinches, hissing from the burn. He then pulls his jacket sleeves up, using it as a holder to pull out the flute from the organ.

Dean and Y/N make their way around the funhouse, stumbling upon Sam trying to pull out the flute. "Hey" They approach Sam. "Hey. Where is it?" Sam asks about the Rakashas, surprised to see them. "We don't know. Shouldn't we see his clothes walking around?" Y/N huffs. Suddenly, two knives come flying at Dean and Y/N, pinning their clothes to the wall.

They yelp fearfully, "Sam!" Y/N and Dean scream for Sam to hurry up and pull the brads flute out. Sam quickens his pace, pulling out the flute. Dean and Y/N grunt, trying to pull the knives out but it's stuck. Sam creeps slowly, wielding the flute. A knife then comes flying at Sam, which he quickly dodges.

The lights begin to flicker in the funhouse, "Guys, where is he?!" Sam yells. "I don't know!" Dean responds, Y/N's eyes flicker to a leaver to a pipe above her. An idea flashes through her mind. She reaches up and pulls it, activating the steam organ, steam comes piling out of the vents and organ. Clouding the room.

Dean and Y/N notice the shadow of a man creeping behind Sam. "Sam, behind you! Behind you!" They scream, warning him. Sam swiftly stabs Barry Papazian with the brass organ flute. He begins to scream as Sam twists the flute in his stomach, gritting his teeth. Papazian screams painfully as Dean and Y/N finally get the knives out of their clothes as Y/N turns the steam off.

They rush over to Sam to see the brass flute on the ground, blood spilt but no body. Assuming the monster disappeared after being killed, "I hate funhouses" Y/N grumbles frustrated. They boys nods in agreement, breathing heavily.

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The next day, they're all back at the roadhouse. "You kids did a hell of a job" Ellen commends them, handing each of them a beer. "Your dads would be proud" She adds sincerely. "Thanks" Sam says gratefully. Y/N gives her a small smile. The tension between Dean and Y/N was thick so Y/N gave her best friend a look that said,

'Read the room, Sammy. Beat it'. Sam looks between them, realizing they wanted space, "Oh, yeah, um. I've gotta- uh- uh- I gotta go...over there. Right now" Sam awkwardly says, chuckling nervously before getting up and going over to the other side of the bars pool table by Jo. Dean and Y/N chuckle at his terrible acting, "Smooth" Dean shakes his head, sipping his beer.

"So? Ahem..." Y/N clears her throat awkwardly, her cheeks a bit flushed. "So?" Dean smiles softly, his eyes flickering over to Y/N. "How're you feeling, charming?" She asks concerned. Dean sighs heavily, his eyes trained on his beer bottle. He would lie and say he's fine but he knows that'll earn him either a bitch face from y/n or a smack to the head for lying.

"Not too well, Princess" He answers honestly, breaking gaze with his bottle and back to her. "At least you're being honest now" She smiles softly, sipping her beer. "How're you feeling?" He returns the question. She scoffs, shaking her head. "Just about as good as you" She chuckles dryly. Ellen gives them a side glance, low-key eavesdropping on their conversation.

"But we got each other" She blurts out, Dean cocks his eyebrow at this. His heart skipped a beat, smug smile appearing on his face. "...and Sam" She covers up, clearing her throat. Her face gathering a tinge of pink. Dean goes to shoot her a sly comment but she smacks his arm lightly. Making him chuckle, "I didn't say anything" He puts him hand up in surrender chuckling.

"Yeah, but you were thinking it" She retorts, scoffing jokingly. Ellen shakes her head at their awkward cute banter, a small smile on her face. Dean puts him beer up in toasting manner, she smiles, cheer-sing with Dean. They simultaneously take a sip as they stare deeply into each others eyes.

Dean was grateful for Y/N's patience and support. He knew she'd never leave them, loyalty and compassion was in her nature. Her compassion is a gift, she carried it with her always and forever. And he cherished that about her. Part mind was hopeful that y/n returned his feelings he had for her, Dean begin Dean refused to believe it, once again.

Jo's eyes glanced over to the two hunters laughing and talking. She noticed the way they looked at each other, the longing desperate stare they shared. "I don't got a chance, do I?" She asks Sam, who was racking up the balls to start a game of pool with her. Sam looks over at Dean and Y/N where her eyes were trained. Though his brother wasn't celibate and neither was Y/N, he couldn't lie to Jo.

He shaked his head, smiling in their direction. "Honestly, I doubt it. Sorry" He apologizes sincerely. Jo smiles, shaking her head. "It's fine, there's more fish in the sea. I'll admit though...they're cute" She chuckles, whilst leaning on her pool cue, looking back at Sam. "Ohh, they're something" Sam snorts, sipping his beer. Sharing a laugh with Jo.

Ash then enters from the back room, everyone's attention was drawn over to him. "Hey, cupcake. Where have you been? I've been waiting for ya" He asks y/n flirtatiously, a book in one hand and a laptop in his other. Dean scoffs, glaring at Ash. Y/N rolls her eyes, "If it isn't my favorite country rock star." She retorts sassily. Dean snorts at her response. "We were working a job, Ash" Sam answers from across the bar.

Ash looks at him confused. "Clowns?" Sam adds. "Clowns? What the fuck?" Ash responds still confused. "You got something for us, Ash?" Dean cuts in. He nods, resting his laptop down next to Y/N, Sam comes over immediately. "Did you find the demon?" Y/N asks. "It's nowhere around. At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises its head. I'll know" Ash answers, typing on his laptop.

A smug smile on his face, "I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie" He winks at Y/N, she cocks her eyebrow. "What do you mean?" Sam asks. "I mean, any of those signs or omens appear anywhere in the world...my rig will go off. Like a fire alarm." Ash answer, turning the laptop to them with his tracker. Their eyes widen.

"Would you mind...?" Dean asks, going to touch the laptop. But Ash taps the table, giving him a slight glare. Dean smirks, pulling his hand back. "What's up, man?" He asks Dean in a standoffish tone. "Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" Y/N asks, chuckling impressed at his tech knowledge. "MIT. Before I got bounced for fighting" He responds, smirking cockily.

They're all taken back by this, "MIT?" Sam asks in disbelief. "It's a school in Boston" Ash says plainly. Sam holds back a snicker, "Okay. Give us a call as soon as you know something?" Dean asks him. "Sí, sí. Compadre" Ash responds. Dean nods. "Y/N, you should give me your number so I can..." Ash says flirtatiously. Dean clenches his jaw, holding back his boiling hatred.

Y/N scoffs chuckling. "Sorry, sweetie. I don't do college boys" Y/N retorts, feigning a smile. Dean smirks proudly at her answer as Sam chuckles. Ash's smirk widens, "I do like a challenge" He winks at her, before leaving the room. Y/N shakes her head scoffing as they boys laugh. They finish off their beers, "Thanks Ellen, we appreciate everything" Y/N says kindly to Ellen, she returns the smile to Y/N before she exits behind Sam.

When Sam and Y/N leave, "Hey, Dean" Ellen calls out to Dean. "Yeah?" Dean answers. "Did F/N know you have a thing for his little girl?" She asks, smirking. Dean is taken back, he chuckles nervously. "I do not- She's like my little sister- " He shakes his head rapidly, denying it relentlessly. Ellen cuts him off with a laugh. "And I'm Cher" Ellen snorts sarcastically, giving him a side glance.

Deans face drops, his heart ready to fall out his ass. She smiles, "Chill. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. You guys seem like you'd be great together" Ellen assured him, giving her a small smile. Dean smiles softly, "I'd like to hope so" Dean sighs. "If you kids need a place to stay, I got a couple beds out back" She tells him. "Thanks, but no. There's something, I gotta to finish" Dean says gratefully. "Okay" She nods, Dean gives her one last smile before walking out.

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Sioux Falls, South Dakota

Dean was back in Bobby's scrapyard, knelt down replacing Baby's tire. Sam approaches him, "You were right" Sam says. "About what?" Dean asks, getting up, he walks to the other side. "About me and Dad." Sam says honestly. "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" Sam says sincerely. "I mean, for all I know, he died thinking that I hate him. So you were right" Sam admits.

Tears forming in his eyes, Deans face still stoic, "What I'm doing right now, it is too little. It's too late" Sam singles back tears as Dean swallows the lump forming in his throat. "I miss him, man. And I miss f/n. And I feel guilty as hell" Sam holds back tears, breathing heavily. "And I'm not alright. Not at all." He admits, sighing heavily. "But neither are you. That much I know" Sam says, this makes Dean clench his jaw further, the anger and grief building inside of him.

"I'll let you get back to work" Sam concludes, walking back to the house. Rage boiled inside of Dean, he moved to the tool tray and picked up a crowbar. His face contorted with pure fury, he gritted his teeth and swiftly drew back his crowbar. Smashing the passenger window of an old junked car.

His eyes flickered over to Baby, his heart heaving heavily. He began to go at the trunk, hitting it profusely with the crowbar. Grunting loudly, painfully as he dents her trunk with the crowbar. His veins were hot, his chest began to burn with the dents turned into a hole in the trunk. The crowbar slipped out of his hand, clanging on the ground.

He fell bottom first onto the ground besides the crowbar, tears welling up in his eyes. He struggled to breath, his hands shaking as he tried to fish his phone out of his pocket. He called the first person that came to mind, they only person he wants around him right now.

The phone rings besides her on the couch in Bobby's living room, "Hello?" Y/N pressed a her phone to her ear. Resting her book down on her lap. All she heard was Deans heavy breathing, she could hear him choking back tears. "Dean?" She leaned forward on the couch, her voice laced with concern. "I need you...please" Dean pleads tearfully. "I'm coming" She says immediately, tossing her phone aside.

She ran out to the yard to see Dean on the floor, his arms wrapped around his knees pulled to his chest. Tears staining his face. Her heart sank painfully, "Charming" She gasps, settling next to him on the ground. She instantly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, Dean finally allowed himself to cry. His stiff body relaxed into Y/N's arms as he let out his wretched sobs into her chest.

"It's okay....it's okay..." She cooed gently, stroking his dark blonde hair. Her tone was pained, seeing Dean in so much pain. It pained her inside out. She desperately wished she could do something to make this easier but the grief had to run it's course. Deans body shaked relentlessly in her arms, his tears soaking her shirt. "It'll be okay. I promise" She assured him, sobbing with him.

"I didn't mean to make you cry" Dean croaks apologetically, looking up at her with his tear filled eyes. "You didn't make me cry, babe" She smiled tearfully, pushing his hair back with her fingers. He continued to cry, clutching onto her as if she'd disappear. Her cheek rested gently at the top of his head, she laid a gentle kiss on his crown as they held each other.

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Authors Note: ......yeah, I'm a sap. DEAL WITH IT🤣🤣🤣I hope whoever is reading enjoyed!🥰 Just a little Easter egg I planted in there, 'Her compassion is a gift, she carried it with her always and forever.' Was inspired by 'Your compassion is a gift, Elena. Carry it with you...Always and Forever'. It's from The Vampire Diaries (another favorite show of mine) from Elijah's letter to Elena.

And the "It's okay...it's okay" was inspired by Allison's death in Teen Wolf, from when she was dying in Scott's arms. There is actually an edit sound of Will from Good Will Hunting crying and Allison saying 'It's okay'. I immediately thought of Dean and Y/N, so that's what inspired the ending. Look it if you want the full experience lol. Once again, hope you guys enjoyed and this chapter it not edited. Till the next episode!🫶

Tag list: @hjgdhghoe @rach5ive @tiggytaylor @star-yawnznn @quarterhorse19 @deangirl96 @bitchykittenconnoisseur

Xoxo

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