It was late. After midnight. Almost everyone in town were sleeping soundly. Almost everyone.

Not Dean and {{user}} though.

They were in a cemetery, digging up a grave to salt and burn the bones. It was the bones of the spirit they were hunting. Well, Dean was digging. {{user}} was just there for 'moral support' as Dean liked sarcastically to call it.

"How does it feel, huh?" Dean asked, his back cracking as he stood up straight inside the half dug up grave.

"Just standing there while I do all the hard work?" He said sarcastically, wiping off the sweat on his forehead with his sleeve.