Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, only the story line, and the Song "Jessie's Girl" belongs to Rick Springfield.
Chapter Eleven
3RD PERSON Point of View
"We'll figure that out later. All I know is witches always give me the heebs and/or jeebs, so were burning it. Hopefully she'll knock it off after her ghost minion is out of the count and her book is gone."
Sam opens his mouth to respond but stops and smiles when Dean begins to hum the tune of Jesse's Girl. They can talk about it later when their rumbling stomachs are full.
Later that night, as Dean and Sam took turns holding the flashlight and digging, the tune continued to play in both of their heads. The brothers had located all of the graves easily (just in case, as they were nothing if not thorough) and, prepared with a full stomach, had first begun with De Silva's grave.
They had given a brief pause when they noticed that the grave had been recently decorated with a bunch of pale white orchids but continued with what they came here to do, knocking the flowers to the side before taking out their shovels.
"Jessie is a friend," Dean begins to sing as his shovel continues to dig through the ground that Sam had just been working on. "Yeah, I know he's been a good friend of mine. But lately something's changed, it ain't hard to define. Jessie's got himself a girl and I want to make her mine." Dean looks over to his brother who stands off to the side, holding the torch with one eyebrow raised. "Oh come on Sammy. You know you want to. Don't be a stick-in-the-mud."
Sam scoffs but joins in as Dean starts the next verse.
"And she's watching him with those eyes. And she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it! And he's holding her in his arms late, late at night…"
They almost get to the end of the song when Dean cuts off mid lyric, leaving Sam to finish the line in his slightly off-tune voice.
"Here we are. One down, three more to go." He raises his shovel above his head and brings it down in one big swing, cracking open the cheep coffin easily. "Sorry Cowboy."
"He wasn't a cowboy." Sam had thankfully stopped singing.
"What?"
"He wasn't a cowboy. In fact, he was a quite wealthy man who was going to inherit a great deal of money and land once he married, and in those days calling someone a 'cowboy' would be taken as an massive insult."
Dean looks disgruntled. "But cowboys are awesome."
"Not in those days, they weren't. They were – "
"Whatever…Nerd."
"Jerk."
"Bitch."
Dean then leaned down to remove the planks of wood that once made up the roof of the coffin, surprised that the spook hadn't tried to attack them yet. That's what usually happened when they got too close to a spirit's remains, especially that belonging to a violent one.
"Hey…Sammy?"
"Yeah."
"Might be a little hard to salt and burn the bones, dude."
"Don't tell me."
"They're not there."
"I told you not to tell me." Sam sighed, rubbing his forehead with the hand not in charge of manning the flashlight. "So, she knows enough to take the body. She might be even more powerful than we thought. How are we supposed to find the book, the bones and the…well, I guess we don't need to find the buckle anymore beings she's probably using the body itself to tie him to her."
"I hate fuckin' witches, man. Hopefully the body's not going to be hidden in the bed this time. Though, I guess that would make finding them easier." He pauses. "And do you know what the best part is?"
"What?"
"We don't have to worry about digging up the other bodies. We now know without a doubt – "
" – Wait! What was that?"
"What was what?" Dean asked as he began to look around him.
"Sssh!"
Both of them quickly doused the lights, removed their shovels and duffels from the ground before hiding in the shrubbery just in time to see the priest with a slightly dull flashlight coming towards them.
"I know it's late. I would have called earlier but I fell asleep in my office. With the Bishop coming and all…"
Listening carefully they could just hear parts of the reply cut that through the still night air.
"It's ok, Father D. I'm…this hour all the time…with…dead…I'll come to your office…morning to discuss…"
The priest sighed. "I just wanted to let you to know that I am very sorry about what happened earlier. If I had known that they were lying I would never have told them anything."
"…ok…I…Paul didn't say…what…now?"
"I just thought I'd stop past Jesse's grave before I headed off to the rectory. Oh my!"
Jesse? The brothers thought together.
"What!? Father D? Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Dear. It's just…his grave. It's been, oh Dear God, dug up."
"What?" The voice, seeming more panicked, became louder. "I'm coming over right now!"
"No, no. We'll deal with it in the morning. There's nothing we can do now. Get some sleep, I'm sure everything will be ok."
A few more words were exchanged, not as easy to understand, before it was clear that he had hung up. The priest then knelt down to the ground and picked up the flowers that the brothers had discarded there before digging up the grave, brushing of the damp dirt and seeming to linger on the fine petals of the plant.
"Oh, my son."
