Hi there! Studying for exams but somethings float about in my head and demand to be written! Sorry if the format is a little different, I typed it on my tablet. Please, please, please visit my page and vote in on my poll there, at this point one vote would win. Also you can find me on Instagram. If you have any spare good thoughts that you'd care to send my way I'd surely appreciate it as I have some major exams coming up and am majorly stressed. Good thoughts to you all, everyone who is reading this, I love you, you're awesome! Going on hiatus for about 2 weeks, see you all after Thanksgiving with some new content!

A reminder, as always I own nothing, and this is for fan purposes only. But hey, Christmas is coming up...please Santa! (he says no, so yeah, I own nothing)

*****As the Grave*****

My father used to use the expression "as silent as the grave". I had never noticed until now just how untrue that statement is. The grave, well mine at least, wasn't silent in the least.

It only took a moment to figure out where I was. The last thing I remembered was quite literally hell, something I'd rather forget, a great deal of disorientation, and then poof here I was. Only where was that? Pitch black greeted my eyes and gravity told me I was on my back. Huh, gravity, been a long time since I'd felt that. A permeating earthy stench filled the moist air along with the barest hint of pine. That smell stirred up memories of dad teaching me and Sam how to dig up...oh s#!+!

And that's all it took.

My hands scrambled at rough boards while I tried to yell out my distress with a throat made of sandpaper. I don't know how long I was like that for but soon enough I had tired myself out into a shaky version of calm, complete with coughing and bleeding fingers.

How was I going to get out of this? I couldn't afford another freak-out; I'd use up my air in here. I only noticed all the noise down here when I took a moment to myself to gather my thoughts.

There was the soft almost twinkling sound of soil falling through the slats of what I gauged was a rather roughly made coffin. Way to show the love there Sammy. But hey, wasn't I supposed to get a hunter's burial? As I was caught up in listening to it I realized it wasn't the only sound in my dark prison. There was soft rustlings too coupled with strange twitching sensations against my clothes. What was that? I felt for one on the breast of my jacket, unafraid, grabbing up a gooey stringy lump. A worm. Awesome, just really, really, awesome. It took a few deep breaths for me to be sure that I wasn't going to throw up. Now that I noticed one, there were so many more, coating me, and wiggling. The soft sounds of their movements were something I'd never noticed before but now it was all that was on my mind. That was the only sound that existed to my worm infested ears. I wanted to gank them all so bad! I couldn't get away either in this suffocatingly small box. I felt claustrophobic. This was worse than being on an airplane. Don't freak-out, don't freak-out! A loud thump caught me off guard from above my left shoulder, stupid gopher; I hoped it was a just gopher at least. Geez I really need out of here, like right now. But how was the double jeopardy question of the day?

Think, think, think, damn, I sound like freaking Winnie the Pooh.

"Dean!" The voice of reason yelled in my mind sounding exactly like dad and supremely p!$$%-= off. "Is this how I trained you?" No, I wanted to say but my voice wasn't working and it wasn't like anyone was really listening, anyone but my new buds down here, anyway. Don't think about that. "Inventory", the voice ordered just as it had for 22 years of my life. Right. Logic Mr. Spock. What did I have to get me out of this? Weapons check was a negative. Did you leave me anything Sam? Yes! My lighter! I was so happy that I kissed it before flicking the flint wheel. Ow! Bad idea! The light burned across my corneas like some tiny radioactive sun. Okay, not that, I tucked it back in my pocket. "Don't you remember anything boy?! You're buried alive. What do you do? Don't you remember the witches?"

Witches, yeah, summer of `91, working a case with dad, things went sideways, some witches had made plans to bury me alive to teach dad a lesson. He'd gotten there in time of course, they hadn't even finished digging the hole, dad saved me, but he took the scare to heart, and trained me how to unbury myself, even took to timing me at it. It had always just been training though, with someone always there if I needed help.

Its okay, I got this. Just a thing I haven't done in years with no one waiting in the rafters to lend a hand, go big or go home right?

I took one last deep breath, acting before I lost my courage, and broke the pine slats above my head. I swam up through earth instead of water, not breathing until I saw the sun.

2 Months Later

I like to think that some experiences are behind me now, like that saying about Vegas, not forgotten exactly but not in the present, that all flies out the window watching Sam eat. "What is that supposed to be?" I accused watching a pale mass writhe and wriggle across a plate.

"Its spaghetti. You know there is more to a menu than burgers and fries, right?"

"You're forgetting pie little bro." I tried to joke in an attempt to ignore my twisting stomach and less than ideal memories while I warily watch the mass wiggle even more. He laughs, a sound I'd missed so much for so long, I'd never get tired of it. It wasn't enough to make me stay for that though. "Gotta go Sammy." I made to slide out of the vinyl dinner booth but was stopped by his boot blocking my path.

"What's wrong?" he asks me with the floppy hair and puppy dog eyes. I can't bring myself to not answer him.

"Worms man," I point at his plate, "freakin worms." I shove his foot out of the way and make my escape. Damn I need a drink.