Hey guys! Here’s the
This one will be long,
kind of a filler but going with the Season Two Episode Two, so we can learn a
bit more about Tasha. I’m making it a two-part chapter because I’m putting so
much more into this!!
Disclaimer: I do not
own Supernatural, just Miss Natasha Williams.
Everybody Loves A Clown: Part 1
The flames rose high in the sky around John Winchester’s
body on the pyre, lighting up Dean and Sam and Tasha’s faces as it burned
brightly. Tear tracks shined on Tasha’s face as she remembered all the things
she and John had done together. She begged Dean and Sam to let her come to the
burning, explaining again to Dean why she was there in the first place. They
were quiet and angry, but allowed her to come along just the same.
They stood in silence, each of them enveloped in their own
emotions, wishing John the best. Tasha didn’t dare look at Sam or Dean, instead
just felt the pain and sadness rolling of them.
“Before he…” Sam choked out. “Before he…” He tried again,
unable to say the word ‘died.’ “Did he say anything to you?” he finished,
looking at Dean. “About anything?”
Dean turned slightly towards him, standing stiffly. He
stared ahead for a few moments, before saying softly: “No… Nothing.”
Tasha dared to turn and look at the boys, seeing the tears
streaming down Sam’s face and the single tear that ran down Dean’s. She wanted
to hold them, knowing the pain and grief that was wallowing within. Tasha was
sure Dean knew the reason that his father had passed, knew that John had sold
his soul to the Yellow-Eyed demon to save his eldest son. But Dean did not say
so, so she didn’t bring it up. Instead, words just began to slide out of her
mouth, as if she couldn’t stop them.
“When… When that werewolf started stalking me, I had no idea
the life that was ahead of me. My parents were killed during the whole thing…
John…” she choked up. “Your father, he… if he hadn’t been there, I wouldn’t be
here. He was a good man… Taught me everything I know. I don’t have anywhere to
go now… No home…” she stopped, not able to continue.
The stood in silence a while longer, watching as the flames
The next day, they were all at Bobby’s. Tasha had followed
silently, not having anywhere else to go. Bobby welcomed her with open arms,
knowing her story. Dean had seen his destroyed Baby, and went straight to work.
He’d been out there as soon as the sun was out, working and working, stopping
Tasha and Sam sat in the kitchen, a week later, a beer in
each of their hands, silently. She and Sam had gotten to know each other rather
well lately: Tasha had heard so much about the boys from John while he was
alive, but it was nice getting to know them herself, though she hadn’t talked
Dean much since he was always with his car.
Sam was very kind, caring, and passionate. Sam had also
figured out that Tasha was very daring, but in her down time could be the
biggest nerd about things. She enjoyed movies and TV shows, and often made
references to them. She and Sam would spend hours debating favorite movies and
shows: Star Trek or Star Wars, whether Firefly should have been continued or
She never brought up John. It didn’t seem like it was her
place to do so; John had been like a father to her, but he still wasn’t hers to
Sam was the first to break the silence at the table.
She started, broken from her thoughts. “Yeah, Sam?”
“I just…” he stopped, collecting his thoughts. “I just
wanted to ask… What was my dad like? I mean, around you, when he was… teaching
you… what was he like?”
Sam hadn’t brought up his father since the burning. She
swallowed, thinking back on when she first met John. “He was stern, very strict.
But as we spent time together, I was able to get a glance at the man behind the
mask. He became like… Like a father to me. He was amazing.” She took another
swig of her beer. “He talked about the both of you a lot.”
Sam looked at her curiously. “He did?”
“You two were the light of his life… I could tell you both
meant more to him than he let on.”
“You do know that he and I… didn’t always see eye to eye,
Tasha chuckled. “What parent and child do? Fights show the
love behind the anger. He really cared about you, Sam. A lot.”
Sam smiled softly, looking as his feet. He took another swig
of his beer, looking out the window. He stood, walking to the fridge and
grabbing a beer. “Dean probably needs about a dozen of these plus a shot right
now,” he said laughing and heading to the door.
“I’ll come out with you,” said Tasha, standing as well.
Dean was hard at work under the Impala. Tasha knew nothing
about cars and admired Dean’s skill and dedication to his vehicle. While Tasha
looked on, Sam knelt next to the car, checking it out.
“How’s the car coming along?” he asked.
“Slow,” Dean answered, straining.
“Yeah?” Sam said, standing and looking around. “Need any
Something dropped from the car as Dean answered “What, you
under a hood? I’ll pass.” He continued as Sam watched.
“Need anything else, then?”
Dean rolled out from under the car, looking at Sam
reproachfully. “Stop it, Sam.”
“Stop askin’ if I need anything, stop askin’ if I’m okay,
I’m okay.” He said, going over to the table covered in tools. He turned to Sam
again, then back to the table. “Really, I promise.”
Tasha set the beer down on the table for Dean. Dean cracked
it open, took a long gulp then went back to the tools.
“Alright,” Sam said. “Dean, just… we’ve been at Bobby’s for
over a week now, and you haven’t brought up Dad once…”
Dean looked at Sam, then said “You know what, you’re right.
Come here, I’m gonna lay my head gently on your shoulder. Maybe we can cry and
hug and slow dance.”
“Dean…“ Tasha started, but Sam cut her off.
“Don’t patronize me, Dean, Dad is dead, the Colt is gone and
it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind this and you’re acting
like nothing happened!”
“Hold on a sec…“ Dean started, but Sam continued.
“Say something! Alright? Hell, say anything! Aren’t you
angry? Don’t you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long
buried underneath this damn car!”
“Revenge, huh?” Dean says.
“Sounds good, got any leads on where the demon is? Making
heads or tails of any of dad’s research? Cause I sure ain’t. But you know what,
when we do finally find it, oh! No wait, like you said, the Colt is gone, but
I’m sure you figured out another way to kill it.”
Sam starts pacing from one foot to the other, looking at
“We got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? See you know what, the
only thing I can do, is I can work on the car.” He stares at Sam a little
longer, then kneels down to get back at it. Tasha sighs in frustration, leaning
against the tool table. She doesn’t know what to say to end this.
In between getting to know one another, Sam had brought out
one of the boxes with John’s old things, asking Tasha to go through it. They
had done some research, trying to learn about the demon that had a connection
to their father, but nothing came up until Tasha found John’s old phone.
“Well we got
something, alright? This is what I came out here to tell you. Tasha found one
of Dad’s old phones. Took us a while, but we cracked his old voicemail. Listen
to this.” Sam hands the old beaten phone to Dean, letting him listen to the
voice of this Ellen or whoever was trying to reach John.
Dean lowered the phone, looking from Sam to Tasha. “A
message, four months old,” said Sam.
“Dad saved that message for four months? Who’s Ellen? Any
mention of her in his journal?”
“No, but I ran a trace on the phone and I got an address.”
Dean nodded, looking slightly interested. “Ask Bobby if we
can use one of his cars.”
“You can use mine,” said Tasha, standing up. “I’d like to go
along too, if that’s okay with you two… I don’t have anything better to do,
and I really don’t want to have Bobby ask for a pedicure again.”
Dean looked slightly hesitant, but he looked over at Sam,
who shrugged and nodded. So he nodded his head yes. Tasha’s face lit up and she
ran to pack her bags, not seeing Sam smiling and chuckling as he headed to pack
They pulled past an old windmill on a dusty dirt road in the
middle of nowhere. An old Tavern stood in the middle of the field, taking them
to the address Sam had traced.
“I feel like a frigging soccer mom,” said Dean, climbing out
of Tasha’s Jeep.
“Hey, go easy on Bitchin’ Betty. I saved up a lot of money
before hunting to get this girl.” Said Tasha, smacking Dean on the arm.
“Bitchin’ Betty?” laughed Sam, coming to stand by Tasha.
“She’s a good car, but not without her troubles.” Said
Tasha, chuckling with him.
“Hello?” called out Sam, walking around the building. “Anybody
They all clambered into the Roadhouse, looking around
cautiously. They stood in front of the door looking around, as something
sparked in the corner. They stepped carefully, seeing that there was someone
laying on the pool table. “Hey, buddy?” said Sam to him, but the guy didn’t
“I’m guessing that isn’t Ellen,” remarked Sam.
“Yeah,” answered Dean, peering at the guy. Sam trudged off
towards the back, looking for anybody. Tasha wandered towards the bar, checking
behind it and around it.
“Oh, God, please let that be a rifle,” she heard Dean
mumble. Tasha turned to see a blonde young woman, around her age, aiming a
rifle in Dean’s back. Tasha reached for her gun in her waistband, getting ready
“No, I’m just real happy to see you,” said the girl, cocking
the rifle. “Don’t move,” she said as Dean raised his hands.
“I’m not moving, copy that,” said Dean. “You know, you
should know something, Miss,” started Dean. “When you put a rifle on someone,
you don’t wanna put it right against their back. Cause it makes it reeeeal easy
to do this.” He whirled around, jerking the rifle from the girl’s hands. She
stood stunned for a moment, then cracked Dean hard in the face, grabbing her
gun as he stumbled. Tasha quickly aimed her gun at the girl, seeing she clearly
wasn’t as frail as she looked.
“Sam!” yelled Dean. “Need some help in here.”
“Just take it real easy, sweetheart,” said Tasha. “It
doesn’t need to get messy in here, I kinda like your bar.”
“Sorry, Dean,” said Sam, emerging from the back with both
hands behind his head. “I can’t right now, I’m uh… little tied up,” he
finished, gesturing with his head to the elder woman behind him with a gun to
She looked at the boys for a minute, then said “Sam…. Dean….
“Yeah,” they both answered, groaning slightly.
“Who are you?” the woman asked Tasha gruffly.
“Natasha Williams, Tasha to my friends,” she answered
stiffly, keeping her pistol on the blonde girl. “Who are you, might I ask?”
“Son of a bitch,” remarked the woman.
“Mom, you know these guys?” asked the blonde.
“Yeah, I think these are John Winchester’s boys.” She said.
Dean looked up at her then, with an incredulous look on his face as he nursed
his nose. The woman laughed, lowering her gun. “Hey, I’m Ellen,” she said,
looking at the three of them. “This is my daughter Jo.” She gestured to the
blonde who was lowering her gun, looking at the boys curiously.
“Hey,” she said softly.
“You’re not gonna hit me again, are you?” asked Dean,
“Tasha, we’re good,” said Sam, gesturing to her gun.
Forgetting that she was still aiming it, she lowered it slowly, tucking back
into her waistband.
“Here ya go,” said Ellen, handing Dean a rag with some ice.
“Thanks,” he said. “You called our dad, said you could help.
Help with what?”
“Weeeell, the demon of course.” She answered. Tasha looked
at Ellen then, as did the boys. “I heard he was closing in on it,” she
“Was there an article in Demon Hunters Quarterly that I
missed? I mean, who are you? How do you know about all this?”
“Hey, I just run a saloon,” she said, throwing her hands up.
“But, hunters have been known to pass through now and again, including your dad
a long time ago. John was like family once,” she said affectionately.
“How come he’s never mentioned you?” asked Tasha.
“You’d have to ask him that,” she said softly.
Dean looked tempted to tell her the news then, but they
hardly knew this woman and her daughter. So he let it slide. “So why exactly do
we need your help?”
“Hey, don’t do me any favors. Look, if you don’t want my
help, fine. Don’t let the door smack your asses on the way out,” she said.
Tasha really couldn’t help but like Ellen. She had spunk for an older woman.
“But John wouldn’t have sent you if-“ she paused,
realization dawning on her. Her face fell then, as she looked at the three of
the hunters. “He didn’t send you,” she stated.
The three of their faces fell grimly. Tasha turned her face
away, afraid the tears springing to her eyes would fall.
“He’s alright isn’t he?” asked Ellen. Tasha closed her eyes
then, about to tell Ellen. She took a deep breath.
“No.” she and Sam said at the same time. They looked at each
other, then Sam nodded for her to continue. “No he isn’t. It was the demon, we
think. It, um… Just got him before he got it I guess.” She chuckled sadly. She
felt bad for not telling the boys that she had witnessed the deal between John
and Yellow-Eyes. But they would figure it out soon enough.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“It’s ok,” said Dean, looking up at Ellen and Jo sadly.
“We’re alright.” He finished, smiling lightly.
“Really, I know how close you and your dad were-“
“Really, lady, I’m fine.” Dean snapped. Ellen’s face turned
stony as he said it.
“So look,” Sam said, breaking the uncomfortable glare
between the two. “If you can help, we could use all the help we can get.” Dean
looked at Sam then, silently telling him to shut up.
“Well, we can’t.” said Ellen, looking at Jo. “But Ash will.”
“Who’s Ash?” asked Tasha.
“ASH!!” yelled Ellen. The body on the pool table immediately
sprang to life.
“What?” he called, scrambling to get on his feet, clearly a
drunk at the old tavern. “Closin’ time?” he asked Ellen. Tasha shared a look
with Sam, who was clearly not impressed with their ‘help.’
“He’s a genius,” remarked Jo.
A file was thrown onto the bar in front of the three of
them, as Ash came to sit on the stool by the wall.
“You gotta be kidding me, this guy is a genius?” asked Dean
smartly. “He’s a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie!” he claimed. Ash just looked at him
“I like you,” he said, pointing at Dean. “Thanks,” answered
“Just give him a chance,” said Jo, pouring beers for the
three of them.
“Alright,” said Dean, sitting at the bar. “This stuff is
about a years’ worth of our Dad’s work, so uh…” he slid the file over to Ash.
“Let’s see what you make of it.”
Ash immediately opened the file, looking through it, sliding
through the pages. “Come on, this crap ain’t real.” He growled in his very
thick country accent. “Ain’t nobody can track a demon like this.” Dean look
incredulous. He shared a look with Sam then turned back to Ash.
said Tasha proudly and softly. Ash looked at her, then back at the papers.
nonparametric statistical overviews,” began Ash. “Cross-spectral correlations,
I mean… Damn!” he exclaimed, continuing with the papers. “They’re signs. Omens.
If you can track them then you can track the demon. You know, like, crop
failures, electrical storms… You ever been struck by lightning? It ain’t fun.”
“Well can you track it or not?” asked Sam.
“Yeah, with this, I think so. But it’s gonna take time. Uh,
gimme… 51 hours.” He stated, calculating it all in his head. He gathered up the
papers and with a final look at the three, he set off to his lair.
“Hey man!” Dean called out.
“Yeah?” said Ash turning back.
“By the way, I um… I dig the haircut.” He said, smiling and
“All business up front,” he said, point to his face, then
fluffing out the long strands of his mullet in the back. “Party in the back.”
With that, he left.
Dean sat at the bar, watching Jo work her stuff. She saw him
looking, but continued on her way.
Tasha turned to Sam to start a conversation, but he was
looking at the back wall behind the bar. “Hey Ellen, what is that?” pointing to
a box with lights flashing on it.
“That’s a police scanner,” she stated. “We, uh, keep tabs on
“No, no, no, the um… The folder.” He said.
She walked over hesitantly and picked up the folder. “I was
gonna give this to a friend, but… take a look.” She said, setting the file down
in front of him. Tasha leaned on Sam, looking at the file. She became aware of
the contact between her and Sam, looking over at him. He looked at her, then
slid the file closer to her for her to get a better look. She heard Dean
talking up Jo in the background, and wondered why she didn’t have that talent
herself. So she sparked up a conversation with Sam.
“You think we’re ready for another case? I mean… So soon?”
She asked him.
“Well we don’t have anything better to do… Might as well do
something other than moping around, waiting on Ash. Plus,” he added, looking at
her, “I’d like to see your hunting style. Haven’t watched you hunt, and I’d
like to know who’s got my back.”
She smiled. “Well I don’t think I’m horrible, I can
definitely take care of myself. And from what I’ve heard about the great
Winchesters,” she smirked, “you aren’t too bad yourself.”
He laughed, looking back at the file. “Well I guess we’ll
see then.” He turned back to the file, the both of them studying it for a
minute, then he called out to Dean.
“Dean, come here, check this out.” Said Sam.
“A few murders,” started Sam, showing him the file. “Not far
from here, that Ellen caught wind of.”
“Looks like a hunt,” said Tasha, smiling.
“Told her we’d check it out,” said Sam, looking up at Dean.
“You gotta be kidding me, killer clown?”
They were on the road, Dean driving and Tasha in the
“Yeah, left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents.
Ripped them to pieces actually.” Clarified Sam.
“And the kid’s family was at some carnival that night,
right?” asked Tasha.
“Yeah, the Cooper Carnival.”
“So how do we know we’re not dealing with some psycho carnie
in a clown suit?”
“The cops have no viable leads,” said Sam, “and, all the
employees were tearing down shop. Good alibis all around. Plus, the little girl
said she saw a clown vanishing into thin air. Cops are saying trauma of
“Well,” said Dean, “I know what you’re thinking, Sammy,
‘why’d it have to be clowns?’”
“Gimme a break,” said Sam.
“Wait, what am I missing here?” said Tasha, leaning over the
seat. She tapped Sam on the shoulder. “Someone has a fear of clowns?”
“He still busts out crying when he sees Ronald McDonald on
the television,” said Dean laughing.
“At least I’m not afraid of flying,” quipped Sam.
“And apparently clowns kill!”
“Ok, boys, enough, so… these types of murders ever happen
before?” said Tasha before the argument could escalate.
“Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers
Circus. Same MO, happened three different times, three different locales.”
“That’s weird, cause if it’s a spirit, it’s usually bound to
the same locale, like a house or a town.”
“So how’s this one moving from city to city, carnival to
“Could be a cursed object. Spirit attaches itself to
something,” said Dean, “something the carnival carries around.”
“Great,” groaned Tasha, “Paranormal scavenger hunt.”
“Well this case was your idea, Sammy, I mean, why is that
anyway?” asked Dean. “You were so quick to jump on.”
“…so?” asked Sam.
“So this is not like you, that’s all. I thought you were
hell-bent on the leather for the demon hunt.”
“I dunno, I just think… taking this job, it’s what Dad would
have wanted us to do.”
“What Dad would have wanted?” asked Dean, looking at Sam.
“Yeah.” He said, looking back at Dean. “So?”
“Nothin’.” Said Dean, turning back to the road.
Tasha sighed, glad that it hadn’t turned into another big
argument between the brothers. She settled in to the backseat, waiting for the
next stop. She looked at Sam’s silhouette against the darkness of the car and
the streetlights flashing by. She started to think about the things she and Sam
had talked about, butterflies setting into her stomach. She thought about his
face, the way his brow furrowed when he was concentrating, the way the corners
of his mouth tilted when he smiled, the white of his teeth showing when
something was really funny to him. How sharp his cheekbones were, his skin
looking as soft as silk. The way his lips looked, so pink like a rose, and she
wondered how they felt-
Woah, she thought
as her eyes flashed wide open. I’ve
barely gotten to know him, why am I thinking like that?? He probably wouldn’t
look twice at me that way… But still… It doesn’t hurt to dream… Does it?
She looked at Sam again, seeing the broadness of his shoulders across the seat,
the way his hair fell against his neck. It looked as soft as feathers, and she
was tempted to reach out and feel it, but she refrained from doing so. She fell
asleep, dreams of Sam dancing across her vision.
Dean looked into the rear view mirror, seeing that Tasha was
fast asleep. Her head was turned towards Sam’s back, as if she’d fallen asleep
looking at him. He smirked and looked at Sam, who was completely oblivious,
looking out the window.
“You know,” said Dean, “Tasha is pretty alright.”
Sam looked at Dean, with a curious look on his face. He
peered into the backseat, seeing her fast asleep. He smiled softly, grabbing
the blanket from the floorboard and tossing it over her. “Yeah, she’s cool.”
“I think she might kind of have a thing for you, man.”
“What? No, we just met her a week ago, why would you think
“Well, she hangs on you a lot, you both have been spending a
lot of time together since you met, and she is a feisty one.” He looked over at
Sam, smirking. “I’ve seen how you look at her too, man. It ain’t hard to figure
out there’s chemistry there.”
Sam sighed. “I dunno… I don’t think she’d look twice at me,
given the chance. She…” he sighed again. “She deserves better than a curse like
“Sam, we… you, are not cursed.” He looked at Sam and saw the
sad look on his face. “Look, if this is about Jess-“
“I’m serious man, I think Jess would want you to be happy.”
He gave Sam a serious look. “You couldn’t help what happened to her, Sammy, it
wasn’t your fault.”
“I saw it, Dean, and I said nothing. I knew she was…” He
paused, not wanting to say it. “I knew it was going to happen and did nothing.”
“Sam, that demon is to blame for that. She wouldn’t want you
to blame yourself.” Sam said nothing, just gazed out the window. “Just think
about it, okay?”
Sam sighed and nodded his head. He looked into the backseat
again, seeing Tasha’s sleeping form, and smiled before settling in to sleep