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Between the three of you, you were sure you’d covered the entire carnival. Clad in your unflattering new uniforms Dean had headed north to the small roller coasters and food stands. You’d taken prize games and bathrooms, figuring it was better you were the one lurking around the men’s porta-potties than the boys around in the women’s. And Sam had taken the rest, fun houses and wall of illusions and the raft of benches where families had congregated.
You’d cleared your entire section and found nothing. No EMF, no supposed ghost. And figuring Dean would’ve spotted an opportunity to get himself fed by now, you decided you were better heading toward Sam.
You found him near the funhouse, which seemed as stale as you’d imagine it. He had his head down, picking up trash as instructed with a subtle glance down every now and then that told you he was looking at the EMF reader in his pocket. Though as he looked away you figured he’d come up as empty as you had.
‘Missed a spot,’ you said, taking him off guard as you bounded up beside him, plucking the candy wrapper he’d not spotted up off the floor as you went.
‘What?’ he asked, looking in his own world until he realised it was you who was speaking and not a customer, ‘oh. Yeah, right.’
‘Are you okay?’ you asked.
‘Fine,’ Sam mumbled taking the offending plastic from your hand before he shoved it in the trash bag. He looked distracted and uncertain, but you brushed it off, asking, ‘so, did you find anything?’
‘No, not yet,’ he said, ‘you?’
‘Nah, nothing. And I’ve covered the entire side near the entrance,’ you said. Sam nodded.
‘Are you done around here?’ you asked. Sam hesitated, his eyes flicking to the fun house. You watched as he shifted uneasily, muttering, ‘no, not yet.’
‘Where’s left?’ you asked.
‘Funhouse.’
‘Okay, well, we can both do it. Might even be fun,’ you snorted, already moving towards it.
But as you moved away, you felt the absence of his footsteps behind you, and when you turned you found him still standing there, like he was rooted to the spot.
‘You coming?’
‘Yeah,’ Sam said, though his feet didn’t move. You frowned, stepping back toward him.
‘Everything okay?’ you asked.
‘Fine.’
‘Okay…so…’ you took another dramatic step back but again he didn’t budge. He just looked at you, as helpless as a six-foot-four, two-hundred-pound man possibly could.
‘Sam, what’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Sam.’
Sam just sighed, refusing to meet your eyes as he muttered, ‘I just have this…thing.’
‘What thing?’ you asked.
‘Just…promise you wont laugh?’ he asked, checking your face for a reaction. You suppressed a smile and nodded.
‘I hate clowns.’
‘Okay,’ you drawled softly, pushing down the amusement prickling inside you considering you’d seen this man take on ghosts, vampires, and demons without batting an eye. You looked towards the funhouse, the mouth of which was shaped like a clown’s face.
‘This whole case kinda has me on edge,’ he admitted quietly.
‘Well I can go on my own,’ you offered.
‘What if it’s in there?’
‘So?’
‘So you’ll need back up.’
‘Okay so back me up?’ you said. Sam dropped his gaze to the floor, and you sighed gently, ‘look, you either come in with me, or I go alone. Not seeing any other options here.’
‘Okay,’ Sam muttered.
You led the way to the funhouse, the pair of you depositing your trash paraphernalia around the back before you headed up the stairs. Sam stalled at the entrance, reluctant to enter through the ghoulish white mouth.
You waited. but he didn’t move.
‘You can hold my hand if you want,’ you said, offering it forward with a soft smile. Sam felt his heart speed up, but he cleared his throat and shook his head.
‘Nah I’m good,’ Sam lied, though mainly because he could feel his palms already sweating. You felt your face fall but forced a smile and nodded as you ducked through the curtain. Sam followed right on your heels.
As expected, it was dark inside, exhibits pinned every couple of yards in garish neon. A fake graveyard on one side. A pack of mechanical zombies on the other. You stepped forward, pulling your EMF reader out of your pocket.
Nothing.
‘Got anything?’ Sam asked, trying to keep his heart from hammering in his chest.
‘Nothing,’ you said.
‘Maybe it’s not haunting the carnival,’ he said, moving closer to you, enough to make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck.
‘Maybe not,’ you agreed. After all your vics had all died at home. Whatever it was could’ve followed them from outside the parking lot. You carried on walking, Sam practically glued to your shoulder as you thought on it.
‘But it goes after kids, right?’
‘Right,’ Sam replied.
‘So it has to find them somewhere. I mean probably not in here, kids aren’t gonna be more than two feet from their mom or dad walking through here so it’s probably out in the JESUS FUCKING CHRIST-’
You shrieked as a clown popped out from a spring-loaded board above you right in your face. You felt your heart hammering in your chest. Your breath coming in pants as you hit the thing out of the way once you realised it was just a cheap jump scare.
‘God, I hate these things,’ you said, turning to look at Sam. He was faring worse than you. He’d lost all colour in his face and was stock still. And you noticed his hand was clasped tight around yours, palms sweating and grip tight enough to turn your fingers white.
‘Come on,’ you said, but as you went to slip your hand out, he grabbed it tighter cementing his other around your wrist to keep the pair of you locked together. You paused, watching his pleading eyes and then nodded, giving his hand a squeeze before you gently led him through the maze.
Thankfully, the other pop ups were weak, buried in the attractions with dramatic ghost ooh and ahs that helped take the sting out of them because they were poorly timed.
Still, you’d never been as thankful to see daylight as you did when you got to the exit. Sam didn’t let go once you got outside, and you didn’t make him. You just led him back to where you’d dumped your stuff, allowing him to rest against the wooden wall where he finally let go. He let his head hit the wood, his eyes closing as he tried to calm himself down.
You watched him worriedly.
‘Are you okay?’ you asked after a minute. Sam nodded but didn’t say anything, he couldn’t get his words out. For a second you thought he might be having a panic attack and so without over thinking it you stepped forward. His eyes opened as you stepped into his space, but he couldn’t get his words out before you wrapped your arms around him, your head on his chest.
‘W-what are you doing?’ he asked quietly.
‘Grounding,’ you explained, your voice muffled against his polyester jacket, ‘read about it somewhere. Helps calm you down when you’re panicking.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah,’ you murmured. Sam hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slid his long arms around you, pulling you close.
You were right. His heart started slowing and his breath became more even. His palms had even stopped pumping sweat to allow him to touch you, his hands settling gently on your back. Though he wasn’t convinced it had anything to do with therapy techniques. As he leaned down, resting his chin on the top of your head he smiled.
That was until he heard a snort. When his eyes snapped open, he saw his brother coming towards him, a shit eating grin on his face that only widened as he pushed you off. You frowned but then spotted Dean, offering him a tight smile when he got close.
‘Aw isn’t that sweet,’ he teased, ‘what’s the matter Sammy? You look like you’ve seen a clown.’
‘And what have you done?’ you challenged, raising an eyebrow as you crossed your arms over your chest.
‘I, uh-’ Dean started, taken off guard by your tone.
‘Because we had the EMF readers so you can’t have done much else. Have you spoke to the workers?’
‘Well-’
‘Seen if there were witnesses? Got a list of the attractions the families went on? Or did you just eat funnel cake?’
‘Hang on a minute-’ Dean tried.
‘Thought so,’ you dismissed smoothly, looking at Sam, ‘c’mon Sammy. We’ve got actual work to do.’
Dean stood there looking flabbergasted as you brushed past him, Sam letting out a quiet snort as he fell into step right beside you. As you reached the end of the alleyway between the rides, you glanced back over your shoulder at Dean.
‘And grab the trash bags on wont you?’ you said, making his eyes flit to the bags resting against the wall, ‘you’re on litter duty.’
Dean scowled but bent down to grab them, completely oblivious as you slipped your hand in Sam’s and you headed on your way.