They left the diner and got in the car.
"We need to dig Harry up." Dean said and started the car. It was too early to do anything like digging up a grave so he drove back to their motel.
"You think that'll do the trick?" Sam ask with doubt in his voice.
"Not really but we have to make sure." And who knew, maybe it was that easy for once. Yeah, right, Dean thought.
Back at the motel Sam used his laptop to find out everything about Harry Morgan he could in the short time they had while Dean made a few calls to find out where he was buried.
They could have asked Dexter which would have saved them some time but there were a few things you just didn't do. Dean wasn't known to be the most diplomatic one but even he wouldn't bluntly ask somebody where their dad was buried so he could dig him up and set the corpse on fire.
When it was late enough they drove to the cemetery. In practiced motions they got their things and then searched the gravestones for the right one.
"Should be over there." Dean's flashlight showed the way. "What do we do if this doesn't work?"
Sam hurried up behind him. "Find his weakness."
Dean turned and pointed his flashlight right in his brother's face.
"That easy? Find the weakness." Dean parroted with a shake of his head. "This Casper is a slippery son of a bitch, we haven't even noticed him being around for days. And Dexter isn't telling us anything." He pointed with his finger at Sam. "Finding his weakness, good luck with that one."
"You are always so optimistic, Dean." Sam batted his brother's flashlight away and stomped past him. "Let's do this and then we'll see if it does anything or not."
They found the grave and Sam took the first turn digging while Dean stood guard with his shotgun. Harry Morgan hadn't done any harm so far but Dean wasn't taking any chances.
Halfway through they switched places and Dean took over the shovel. Fully concentrated on his work he trusted Sam to protect him from the angry ghost if Harry decided to join the party. Sometimes the ghosts noticed that someone was messing with their remains and tried to stop them. Sometimes they didn't show at all and the Winchesters could go home without bruises or concussions or the occasional broken bone but he wouldn't bet on that.
So far everything was quiet.
"Are you almost done?" Sam asked from his comfortable positions outside while Dean coughed earthworms.
"Stop bitching around." Dean didn't break his rhythm and soon the shovel hit wood for the first time. "Gotcha." Dean mumbled with a grin and scraped the last of the dirt from the casket.
"Sam, get the salt and the gas." Dean bent down and fought against the lit of the casket. Standing nearly on top of it this was always the tricky part but a trick he had perfected a long time ago.
"Hallo, Harry Morgan." The man had been buried in his uniform, however, time hadn't done him any favors.
Dean climbed out of the hole and tossed the shovel to the side, Sam handed him a canister and together they dosed the corpse with salt and gas.
Patting his pockets for the lighter Dean didn't notice Dexter till he was right in his face.
"What are you doing?" Dexter's voice carried far in the silence of the nightly graveyard.
Dean looked up with a hearty "Crap!" on his lips. Sam seemed to feel the same way.
"Dexter, please. We can explain." Sam said and Dean almost burst into laughter. How in hell did Sam intend to explain that they were about to burn the corpse of Dexter's father?
Letting Sam do the talking Dean got the lighter. If Sam could distract Dexter long enough …
They would have to apologies later and maybe made a run for it out of town but this had to be done. Slowly, never letting Dexter out of his sight, Dean got the lighter out and was just about to do the job. Somehow Dexter still managed to surprise him. Dean hadn't expected that a lab geek knew how to fight and he paid for that with an embarrassing landing on his back with Dexter on top of him. For a second confused he blinked at Dexter but then flipped them around and got away from him. Both in fighting stance – obviously Dexter knew what he was doing – they circled each other while Sam tried to reason with Dexter.
With a flicker Harry was there. Dean had only seen pictures of that man – and his not so fresh corpse – but he had no doubt about who was suddenly among them.
"Dexter." Harry said and Dean longed for his shotgun which was way out of reach. Sam on the other hand had his right in his hand and in one smooth motion he took a step back and raised the gun.
Dean saw Dexter move and reached out to hold him back but it was too late. The gun went off and the sound mixed with Dexter's scream. He landed on his back, his shirt perforated by the rock-salt and red spots blooming all over his chest.
That had to hurt like a bitch. Dean rubbed his own chest in sympathy, he knew the feeling. No fun at all.
"Shit, Dexter." Sam shouted. He stood there frozen in shock of what he had done and Dean couldn't blame him for that.
Dexter lay on his back gulping for air like a fish out of the water but Dean's main interest was where the lighter was. They had to finish this now.
When Sam made a hesitant step towards Dexter, Harry was back. Ignoring the Winchesters he knelt beside Dexter.
"Breathe, Dexter." He said
Behind Dean another blast of Sam's shotgun bellowed through the night but he had only eyes for that shiny little thing on the ground. In one smooth motion he picked the lighter up and set the prepared corpse on fire. He prayed that it would work but Dean didn't stay to watch. Diving for his shotgun he spun around to join the battle. Dexter was still on the ground gasping for air and Sam stood a few feet way shotgun aimed at where Dean guessed Harry had been a second ago.
A small optimistic part of Dean's mind waited for the telltale burst of flames which would mean the end of Harry Morgan's existence on earth. The more realistic part of his mind waited for Harry to go ballistic. Neither happened.
Harry was back while his bones burned way past the point where it should have done the trick but he completely ignored the Winchesters and their guns. He knelt beside Dexter.
"Dexter, get up." He ordered in a voice John Winchester would have liked. "Dexter."
Dexter nodded and struggled to get on his knees. With both hands he clutched the front of his battered shirt. Over his head the Winchesters shared a look. They both were in no position to shoot Harry without getting Dexter caught in another scatter of rock salt.
We are so screwed, Dean realized and steeled himself for the things he knew would come next. Becoming airborne wasn't his favorite activity but the landing was always worse.
Plenty of gravestones and some trees to hit around here, he noticed, not counting the things the spirit could throw at them. Or maybe Harry was the personal type and liked to choke his victims or crush their hearts in his ice-cold fist. Been there, done that. Experiences Dean rather didn't want to repeat.
Seeing the same tension in his brother Dean waited for the things to happen or till he got a clear shot, whatever came first. But Harry's attention stayed fully on Dexter as if the Winchesters weren't even there.
"You have to move." Harry encouraged his son and moved a little out of the way to give him some space to maneuver. Feet wide apart to become more or less stable Dexter finally stood. Hands on his knees he stood bent over and seemed close to topple over again. With a flicker Harry was gone and Sam stepped forward and grabbed Dexter by the arm to hold him upright.
"You okay?" Sam asked leaving the stay on guard part for Dean who waited with his shotgun ready for Harry's next move.
"You burned my father's corpse." Dexter stated between harsh breathes.
"Sorry about that." Dean said without feeling sorry. He stepped back and over his shoulder had a look down the grave. The flames were dying and the spook was still around, just fucking awesome.
"You shot me." Dexter fingered his chest to find out how much damage he had taken but Sam batted his hand away.
"Just rock salt." Sam said as if that made it better. Dean rolled his eyes and picked up the shovel. The least they could do was to fill the grave up again.
"Hurts like a bitch but you'll live." Dean said with a smirk and started digging. Again.
"We drop you off in an ER." Sam offered but Dean knew that was the last thing he wanted to do. If the job were done they could do that, no problem, but they needed to stick around for a while longer and Dean preferred to do his job without dodging the police. Especially if the central figure in this case worked for the police and had a cop as a sister.
Cursing under his breath Dean filled up the hole. This case kept getting better and better.
Carefully Dexter ripped the remains of his shirt open to have an actual look at his chest. Dean glanced over and winced in sympathy.
"No ER." Dexter said to his surprise. "I think I can handle it." With the tip of a finger he probed one spot and pellet of rock salt came out. He hissed in pain but didn't seem to be that bothered by his injuries.
Okay, that was unexpected. Normal behavior for the Winchesters or any other hunter who didn't want to draw attention to themselves, however, very unusual for a normal guy like Dexter.
"Em, okay?" Searching for help Sam glanced over to Dean who just shrugged and kept digging. Everybody else would have called 911 ten minutes ago. They had dug up and burned Dexter's father, that should make him furious but Dexter seemed very collected. Giving in to the pain he sat down back leaning on a gravestone and waited for Dean to finish.
"Anyway, you need to get cleaned up. We can patch you up at our motel room?" Sam went for the matter at hand. "And we need to talk, sort this out."
To Dean's surprise Dexter agreed and settled in the back of the Impala after they were done at the cemetery. Harry didn't show for what Dean was thankful. Dead or alive, shooting someones father in front of said someone was never a good idea. So far Dexter had handled it surprisingly well but the shitstorm was only one phone call away.
"I'm sorry." Sam said in the silence of the car. "We didn't want you to know what we had to do."
"Then you shouldn't have told me about how to get rid of a spirit." Dexter pointed out and Dean had to agree. Maybe they should have been a little more careful with their information.
"However, it didn't solve our problem." Dean said and caught Dexter's eye via the rear view mirror.
"Are you sure there is a problem?" Dexter shot back holding his gaze. Dean was about to say that every spirit was a problem but then thought about the last half an hour. Sam had shot Harry twice and every other spirit they had ever met would have gone ballistic by then. Throwing stuff, throwing people, the usual ghost temper tantrum. Not Harry. His focus had been fixed on Dexter. He didn't even do anything except talking. Weird.