A cosy orange glow rose from the desecrated grave, starkly illuminating the two brothers against the backdrop of night.
Standing side by side, they warmed their calloused hands on the hungry flames eagerly devouring the poor remains of the once little girl.
To an onlooker it would appear as a hellish scene, digging up a grave and burning the bones, yet that belief would be probably be preferable to knowing the true reason for Sam and Dean's nightly outings to the cemeteries dotted across the American country-side.
Better to remain in ignorance about ghosts, ghouls and things that roamed in the dark.
:
The Winchesters hadn't had that luxury. Two children thrown into a terrifying world of the supernatural.
They'd prevailed, learned the ropes, saved a lot of people.
It was yet to be seen if they could save themselves.
:
As they exchanged satisfied glances for the successful closure of the hunt, the bond which united them glowed as fulgid as the flames beneath.
Oh, they'd survive. They were Winchesters.