Salt, Spirits, and Sam Winchester

Chapter 10 - Sam

“You really think we should do this?”

Dean shuts the trunk of the Impala, shovel in hand. “It’s what we do after every case, Sammy. We got to put her to rest. It’s been long enough to rebury her, and something tells me Nelson wouldn’t have her cremated.”

“Dean’s right,” Cas agrees, holding up another shovel.

Sam crosses his arms. “You’re actually going to dig, Cas?”

“He’s taking your place,” Dean says to him. “Something about this case is eating you, Sam. I know you.”

Looking down at the ground, Sam wraps his fingers around the tiny box still in his coat. When he finally glances back up, Dean and Castiel are already walking toward the cemetery gate, talking about who-knows-what.

Sam follows, hands still in his coat pockets. Dean is right. Something about this case is eating him. He can relate to Ben, and he knows exactly how lost, alone, and powerless Ben must feel.

Dean and Cas heave shovelful after shovelful of dirt from the growing hole. Sam stands a few feet back and watches as they shape the hole into a rectangle and dig deeper. Dean’s strokes come naturally to him, while Castiel tries his best to keep up and hide the sweat on his brow to impress Dean.

“What did Bobby say?” Dean calls back to Sam in between digs.

“He wasn’t that surprised. Usually demons only posses the living, but it’s not unheard of for them to posses the dead. They just have to be powerful demons. Besides, you know what you always say.”

“It’s always demons, Sammy,” Dean says with a grin.

Sam gives his brother as much of a smile he can give back to him as his fingers grasp the ring box.

“I guess he was glad it wasn’t a repeat of Sioux Falls, then,” Dean continues. “We only had one dead person to take care of.”

“Dean.”

“What?”

“Um, Dean?” Castiel says. “I think I’ve hit something.”

“Awesome job, Cas!” Dean exclaims, clapping the angel on the back.

Sam pretends he doesn’t see Cas wince.

Brushing the dirt from the lid of the casket, Dean cracks it open and pulls out his lighter. He dumps salt into the coffin first, then pours gasoline over the salt and body with a flourish. He takes a bow, and Cas smiles.

Sam looks away as he lights the fire.

The two brothers and the angel stand over the grave, letting the fire burn itself out. It sends sparks and ashes spiraling toward the sky, and Sam almost thinks the spectacle is beautiful.

Keeping his eyes on the sparks, Sam cracks a smile. Maybe this is beauty, and it’s Emily’s last performance.

Castiel and Dean cover the casket with dirt once again. When they’re finished, they walk off, leaving Sam staring at the gravestone.

“I’m sorry, Ben,” Sam whispers, hearing his own voice crack.

Kneeling down, he pulls the box from his pocket and props it open. Setting it in the freshly turned dirt, he blinks back tears.

Ben should be back for it soon.