𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

033

Dean and I slowly make our way through the graveyard, checking everywhere for this unmarked grave. So far, nada. We stayed quiet mostly, keeping our ears open for anything that didn't sound like either of our own footsteps or some crickets. Our arms brushed together once in a while, and I'd hate to admit it, but I wanted Dean to wrap one around me so I could feel his warmth. But it's probably just because I'm a little tipsy. I didn't even drink that much though.

"Dean, I feel like we've been here forever." I whine. I whip my flashlight towards a sound and see it's only a rabbit. I sigh in relief.

"It's been 10 minutes, Jennifer." Dean deadpans. I move my flashlight so it's in his eyes.

"You annoy me." I state plainly. He flinches away from the light and I laugh quietly, moving it back to the floor. The both of us stop in our tracks when we hear the snap of twigs. I slowly look around for anything that could be hiding in the trees or bushes.

"Was that you?" I ask Dean, voice barely audible.

"No." Dean whispers back.

"Then I'm hoping it was another rabbit." Hesitantly, we continue forward. Our senses on high alert. Out the corner of my eye I see a small head marker. Shining my flashlight on it, I spot the same symbol that was on the hook.

"Over here." I call out to Dean quietly, considering he isn't that far away. Carefully, I make my way down the small hill and stop in front of the gravestone, flashlight never leaving it.

"Ready to get dirty?" I ask Dean when he stops beside me.

"Are you?"

"Hell yeah. Hand me my shovel." I hold out my hand to him, wiggling my fingers with a playful smile. He complies with a small laugh. Once he gives me it, we get to digging.

We dig, and we dig some more, sweating in the process. Halfway through, I had taken my black denim jacket off, leaving me in my black tank. I had noticed Dean would glance at me from time to time, but I was doing the same so I didn't hold it against him. After a while, I release a tried groan.

"I need a break." I huff, tossing my shovel up onto ground level. We made it pretty far down, probably right above the pine box, but I said what the hell, Dean's a big boy. He can handle the rest on his own.

"Really?" Dean asks, sounding out of breath. I don't say anything, climbing out of the pit just enough to lay my back flat on the grass, letting my legs dangle. I sigh at the breeze that hits me.

"Yep." I finally reply. I listen to Dean grunt as he continues to dig and I push myself into a sitting position to watch him.

"You know, your arms look really nice from up here." I complement, resting my chin on my open palm. Dean stops his digging and rests both hands on the handle of his shovel before looking up at me.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean breathes out heavily, eyes slightly squinted. I hum and nod my head, licking my lips with a smirk.

"Jesus, Jennifer. I wish you didn't do stuff like that." Dean mumbles quietly, going back to shoveling. I don't think he realizes I heard him.

"I bet Sam is just waiting outside Lori's house looking like a lost puppy, and we're here...digging up a grave." I huff, continuing to watch Dean's arms flex. Honestly, I'm not as upset as I probably should be. The moonlight makes the sweat on his arms glisten and I can't seem to get myself to look away.

"Correction, I'm digging up a grave."

"Oh please, I did a lot. You're practically right above the box." I defend. And I was right because just then Dean hits wood, smashing right through it. "See." I smile triumphantly. He sends me a sarcastic one before smashing through the rest of the wood.