"Start Where You Are, Use What You Have, Do What You Can." - Unknown

• • •

Noah scruffed his hand through Delta's not-too-long-not-too-short fur, jolting slightly as his phone began to ring. He kept one hand in the german shepherd's fur, grasping his flip phone from his pocket.

"George Trale speaking," he spoke into the phone. "Noah, hey, I've got some new information," Brian's voice crackled through the old speaker of his mobile. Noah always answered his phone with an alias, the people that knew him would know if it was him based on the name, he only used three when answering the phone at least.

"Alright, whatcha got?" Noah replies. "A few murders up in Medford, Wisconsin, says that he left the daughter unharmed, but he shredded the parents," Brian answers.

"Okay, where's the supernatural element to this?" Noah questions, scratching Delta's head. "Well, the family had been to a carnival that day, Uh, The Cooper Carnivals and the little girl said that she let a clown into the house," Brian continues, "Only, she said that after it had killed her parents, it vanished into thin air, the police have no viable leads since all the carnis were tearing down shop that night, which leaves everyone with an alibi."

"Okay, has this ever happened before?" Noah asks, knowing that first occurrences were never how it worked with creatures of the night. He stood up from the bed, rolling his eyes fondly at Delta's whine at no longer being pet.

"Uh, well, 1981 at the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locations," Brian replies. "Well spirits usually stick to one place, so what is this thing?" Noah thinks aloud. He tosses his jacket on, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

"Well, what if it's attached to an object?" Brian retorts. "Okay, yeah, makes sense, but that'll be fun, paranormal scavenger hunt, sounds easy to manage at a carnival, don't you think?" Noah speaks sarcastically as he laces his boots and grabs his duffle bag, which he promptly tosses his dirty clothes into.

"Have fun, kid, for once I do not envy you," Brain chuckles over the line. Noah sarcastically laughs back at him before they bid farewell.

He picks up his bag, whistling for Delta as he grasps the doorknob. "Come on girl, we've got work to do."

• • •

Noah stepped out of his Jeep, gazing around at the carnival scenery. He opened the back door and Delta hopped out, panting at him with a smile.

Noah's lip curled upwards slightly before he turned back to the lively atmosphere. Seeing clowns, stiltwalkers, jugglers, and other types of carnis walking around, entertaining people as they came across them. He glanced a scan over the entire joint, seeing countless random objects.

"I'm in a haystack," he muttered as his eyes wandered the place, "And I need to find the needle."

Moving to the backseat, where Delta had hopped from, he unzipped his duffle, finding his EMF detector. Suddenly glad that it was disguised as a pocket radio, he plugs the headphones he had into them, before putting Delta on her leash, which he clipped to his belt to keep her next to him.

Walking through several rows of games, he scans everything he passes. However, it's when his eyes catch sight of the funhouse that he decides to check there before he passes it.

He enters, making his way around the maze, however it is one particular section of it that gives him the chills, something making him feel weird about the area. That's when a skeleton drops from the ceiling in front of him. He jumps, before laughing at himself, shaking his head, and discreetly scanning it.

He shakes his head when it doesn't give off EMF before turning back around. He bumps into someone, looking back to apologize. His eyes quickly glide the tall frame of a man with tanned skin, hazel eyes, and brown hair that hangs to his ears. Noah briefly acknowledged his overt attractiveness before shaking it off. Definitely not the time. "Sorry, man," he speaks before turning and going in a different direction.

The man with hazel eyes and brown hair stares after the man who had bumped him, ignoring the muffled voice in the back of his head, before he shakes it off and turns and spots the skeleton. He scans it with the EMF detector he held before reaching for his phone and dialing his older brother.

• • •

Noah exits the funhouse and passes a booth that serves food and drink, where he stops, Delta at his heels. However, as he pays, he hears something that catches his attention.

"-Mmy, Look at the clown!" A little girl tells her mother as she points. "What clown?" the mother asks her daughter. Noah's eyes flit in the direction the little girl points, nothing even somewhat like a clown stands in it's place.

He sighs before grabbing his bottled water and walking to cauitiously follow the family.

• • •

Seated in his Jeep, Noah sips on his water as he cocks his handgun, which was filled with iron rounds.

He glances at the house as he listens to the sound of cars passing, seeing virtually no activity. However, his attention is drawn away when he notices a station wagon parked underneath a tree across the street. He dismisses his suspicion as paranoia before looking back to the house.

• • •

He blinks as the dining room light is turned on in the house, and he sees one of the doors open. A clown stands staring at the same little girl from earlier and he decides not to wake Delta.

He looks up as he hears doors slamming, seeing two men from the car that he had noticed earlier jumping out of their minivan. "I'll be damned," he murmurs to himself.

He hops out of the Jeep, quietly shutting the door behind him before walking in through the ope door, after the men had also entered. He sees the girl being held by the taller man who had longer hair as the slightly shorter man with cropped hair cocks his shotgun.

Noah turns the corner with his raises pistol, speed-firing three rounds into the chest fo the clown right as the man fires his shotgun, which pelts the clown with rock salt. The two men turn to him with their eyes wide in shock before they focus their attention back on the clown.

It vaporizes, shattering the glass of the back door as the two parents rush downstairs, screaming at the three, who then rush out of the house. Noah pants as he runs next to the men, before the three come to a full stop once they are completely out of sight, where Noah's vehicle sits. It was a crappy scouting location but he knew it was better to not be seen by the family. He placed his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"Who the hell are you?" the dirty-blond man asks.

"I'm Noah, I'm a hunter, just like you, seems we got put on the same case," Noah explains as he hardens his expression, standing up to full height.

"Wait, aren't you the guy who bumped into me earlier today in the funhouse?" the brunet questions. Noah scans him, seeing the same tall frame, tan skin, brunet man he had earlier that day. "Oh, yeah, you're right," Noah replies," So, you two got names?"

"Uh, I'm Sam, this is Dean," the brunet introduces the two. Dean nods in acknowledgment. "Well, I guess we'll be working this case together," Noah chuckles. The two men nod as they chuckle slightly as well. "We'd better get out of here before the police get here," Dean points out.

Noah nods, and the three hunters return to their respective vehicles.

• • •

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam questions his brother as Dean removes the plates from the minivan they were currently in. "I don't wanna take any chances, besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway," Dean speaks as he closes the hatchback.

The boys now stand in the middle of nowhere, the crappy minivan deserted into the trees, with their duffles slung over their shoulders. Unluckily for them, they had parked a little more in the light where the vehicle would've been visible to the family. It gave them a better vantage point but, because of it, they were seen.

The two brothers begin traipsing down the dirt road they had parked off the side of, their bags in hand. "Well, one's thing for sure," Dean begins. "What's that?" Sam replies.

"We're not dealing with a spirit," He explains, "That rock salt hit something solid, hell the kids bullet went into him, I could see that much."

"Yeah, a person? Or maybe a creature that can turn itself invisible?" Sam thinks aloud. "Yeah, and dresses up like a clown for kicks?" Dean adds, almost sounding sarcastic.

"Did it say anything in Dad's journal?" he asks his little brother.

"Nope," Sam replies before pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing a number. "Who you calling?" Dean questions. "Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something," Sam answers.

He finishes dialing the number but doesn't press call, looking back up with a smile on his face as another question comes to mind," Hey, you think, uh... you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No way," Dean replies. "Then why didn't he ever tell us about her?" Sam ponders. "I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling-out," Dean says.

"Yeah... you ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" Sam looks to his brother as he speaks, raising his phone to his ear.

• • •

"Damn thing definitely wasn't a spirit!" Noah exclaims over the phone to Brian as he puts water and food out for Delta. He had returned to his motel room the night prior after changing his plates for good measure and he could not figure out what the hell the thing could've been. He had gone through every book he had and searched as many lore websites as he could find, but he came up empty.

So, as always, Brian was his final resort. The man could make several encyclopedias of knowledge of the supernatural. If anyone knew what it was, it'd be him.

"Well kid, that's sounds a lot like a rakshasa," Brian answers. "Okay, elaborate," Noah says, waving his hands about in exasperation. "They're a type of ancient hindu creatures, they appear in human form, eat human flesh, and they can go invisible when they want to, they can never enter a home without being invited first," Brian explains.

"Okay, so they dress up like clowns to get the kids to let them in the house?" Noah asks as he seats himself on his bed, watching the german shepherd attack her food bowl. "Yeah, at least the one you're dealing with does, I'm sure different ones have different ruses, but that must be what this one does," Brian replies.

"Well, then why don't they eat the kids?" Noah questions. "Not enough meat on the bones?" Brian says," I mean, most farmers don't send the baby calves to slaughter for meat sourcing, they wait for them to grow into adults, fatten them up, and then send 'em off, right?"

"Okay, so how do I find the damn thing?" Noah asks with a small grunt as Delta comes over to him, having finished her food, and jumps on him, her paws heavily hitting his stomach. "They live in squalor, they sleep on a bed of dead insects, and they have to feed a few times every 20 to 30 years," Brian answers.

"Makes sense, the carnival today, bunker brothers in '81," Noah thinks aloud. "Do they have any workers in common?" Brian wonders.

"I'll get back to you on that, last thing before I let you go, how do you kill 'em?" Noah questions. "According to the legend, pure brass knife," Brian retorts. "Thanks," Noah says before closing his flip-phone, effectively hanging up. He pulls his laptop over to him, resting his back against the headboard before looking into the bunker brothers information.

Any employee he can find a name of, he jots down in a notebook before researching the carnival. He sees a name in the first few lines. Cooper.

• • •

It begins to go dark around the carnival as they began to shut down and all the lights began to turn off. Noah sneaks around the corner of a trailer that he's come to find belongs to Cooper, before he turns the corner as more lights are shut off.

He bumps into something, which makes him reach for his 9mm. He looks up at who is staring down the barrel of his pistol, seeing it to be Sam with his hands raised. Noah sighs underneath his breath before placing the gun back in his waistband.

Sam, being the taller of the two, peaks through the window as Noah picks the lock to the trailer. Once sure that no one is inside, Noah pushes the door open quietly, before both dark-haired men shuffle inside.

The two scan the room, being sure that no one is there before Sam pulls out a switchblade, going over towards the bed as Noah keeps a cautious eye out.

Sam lifts the comforter, blankets, and sheets, finding the mattress which he digs the blade into. However, right as Sam does so, Noah notices a man has entered the room. He takes his pistol, digging it into the man's back as he holds his arms with his other hand, keeping the man from doing anything.

Sam rips the mattress open as Noah speaks in a hushed voice to the panicked man, "Listen, this is nothing personal, and hopefully, we won't have to hurt you, just stay put and we'll handle this, we just need one thing and we'll be out of your non-existent hair."

Sam cuts the mattress open, finding it only stuffed with apolstery foam. He turns back to Noah, shaking his head. "Now, we'll be out of your way, and as long as you don't report this, we won't have to worry about it, and nobody gets hurt, okay?" Noah says as he slowly releases the man, who nods.

Sam and Noah hurry from the trailer, running into Dean who is sprinting away from something. "Well, Cooper is now traumatized, but it isn't him," Sam tells his brother after stopping him from running. Dean takes notice of Noah's presence but says nothing of it. "Yeah, I gathered as much, it's the blind guy," Dean answers.

"Well, did you get the brass-" Dean cuts his brother off," The brass blades? No, it's just been one of those days," Dean answers. "I don't think that'll be much of an issue," Noah says as he pulls the brass throwing knife from his back pocket.

Sam and Dean look at him in surprise. "Where the hell did you..." Dean trails. "My mentor is a knife collector, every metal in existence, he has me stocked with," Noah answers as he places the blade back into his jeans.

"Huh," Dean and Sam reply in unison as they look to each other. "Bad thing is, even when we do try to keep them in pairs, we only have two brass knives, he has one and I have the other, so I've got one shot if I have to throw it," he says.

"Okay, I've got an idea," Sam says, "Come on." He runs into the fun house, Noah and Dean not far behind him. As Sam goes one way, Dean and Noah are shut off from him behind a door. "Sam!"

"Dean!" Sam calls back to his brother,"Okay, you two find you're way through the maze."

Dean and Noah turn to each other before turning around. After walking through several twists and turns, they finally run into Sam who is looking around, a knife lodged into the wall behind him.

As soon as Sam notices the two, Dean is pinned to the wall by his coat as two throwing knives hit the wall, catching his clothes in the process. Another two are thrown, one in Noah's direction and the other in Sam's. "Where are you, you son of a bitch," Noah mutters as he looks around, Dean seems to get as idea as his hand pulls a lever, which fills the room with fog.

The figure can be seen walking around through it, and Dean points to behind them, where Noah reaches and stabs hard. Green, glowing eyes are the only things visible, flickering as blood covers the knife. It falls to the floor, dead as it's eyes die out, no longer glowing.

Noah picks his knife up from the pile of clothes where the creature once was as Dean finally manages to pull the two knives out of the wood and off of his jacket.

Dean walks over to the two seeing them both panting after turning off the steam lever, seeing the pile of clothes on the floor. "I hate fun houses," Dean says as he catches his own breath, making Noah and Sam breathily chuckle.

• • •
"So you're right, what I'm doing right now is too little.." Sam choked up, "It's too late."

Dean stared at Sam, his eyes glazed over like a thin shield hoping to keep his brother from seeing the hurt within them. But Sam was not naive to it.

"I miss him, man," Sam sighed, looking down at his feet. His boots coated in the sandy, lightweight dirt of the Singer Salvage lot. He breathed shakily, trying not to start crying. The wound of his fathers death was a fresh one.

"And I feel guilty as hell... and I'm not alright," he shook his head, staring at his older brother,"Not at all."

The silence hung for a split second as Dean tried to keep a cap on his own emotions. He felt the training engrained in him from an early age flair up, the voice in his head that sounded a little too much like his father reminded him,"Crying's for fags and little girls."

Sam took a deep breath, breaking the eye contact he held with his brother, looking back down at his feet,"But neither are you, that much I know."

Dean shifted uncomfortable at his own emotional turmoil being acknowledged in a more serious manner than it had been lately. Sure, Sam had confronted him, but it wasn't ever in an emotionally rooted conversation. It was always Sam trying to get a rise, trying to get Dean to prove to not only himself that he was feeling this pain, but to Sam that it was okay to be in pain. Because Sam always felt the need to get the okay from Dean before he did anything, ever since he was little. This time was different, this time it was Sam pleading with Dean to allow himself to mourn.

Dean locked his jaw. Sam's firm gaze wavered as his labored breathing started to pick up slightly, the tears growing more and more difficult to push back.

"I'll let you get back to work," Sam nodded at Baby, still in her bared and stripped state from the car accident. Dean had put a lot of work into getting her fixed over the past few weeks.

He turned around, walking back in Bobby's cabin. He chose to ignore the lingering guilt, the nerves. The uneasy feeling he always seemed to have when it came to emotional matters, a similar one that Dean had. But they both handled it differently.

Where Dean pushed every emotion in him down, and shoved it into a glass bottle for him to then drown in booze or women, or to release on hunts and take his anger out, Sam seemed to try to let it out in some manner, but he wished to remain away from anyone else when he did so. He didn't trust anyone else with his tears.

So blinking back the tears in his eyes, he walked into the kitchen to see if Bobby had another case for them to take in the next week or two and chose to ignore the loud pounding on metal sounds accompanied by cries filled with ache filling the air of the salvage lot.

He took a seat and he got back to work.

• • •

Authors Note: I'm excited, are you excited? Cause I'm excited!