"Dean, this is the fourth sandbox we've searched through. The Magura-Schendel isn't here," Sam complained, as he threw down his shovel. His back ached from all the shoveling he'd done, while his brother was just standing there next to the Impala. Watching. Just watching. He hated when Dean did that. "Come on Sammy, put some back into it! You've only searched the first half of the sandbox," he teased.

Sam considered dragging his brother into the sandbox and make him eat sand, before changing his mind and grabbed the shovel again. He wasn't going to be childish about this. Dean was seemingly less depressed and he wasn't going to mess that up. If him injuring his back would gets Dean's mind off losing Cas, then that was great. Not for his back, but he was a Winchester. And Winchesters tend to heal quickly. Or at least pretend they do.

Dean watched his brother shovel his way through the layers of sand, grinning inwardly. Sam was way too nice to say anything about his ditching his responsibilities. There was no way he was going to take over the shovel. Like Sam'd said: this was the fourth sandbox. The chance of actually finding something was very slim.

He heard the sound of iron scraping on stone and footsteps coming up behind him and turned. Tyler shuffled toward them, her shovel dragged behind her. She was panting slightly and had some dirt on her face. "Nothing," she said as she saw Dean looking at her with a question in his eyes. She threw her shovel to the ground and sat down on the hood of the Impala.

"You have a little something…there," Dean pointed out. Tyler quickly wiped off the dirt and sweat. "Sorry. How long has Sam been digging?" Dean shrugged. An hour? Two? He didn't really remember. Apparently Sam heard them talking, because he had turned to them to show off his sour face. Dean decided to throw him a bone and walked up to his younger brother to take over the shovel.

"Gimme."

"Dean, it's not here. You don't have to dig. Let's just go back to the motel."

"Sam, what did dad teach us?"

"When looking for something, leave no stone unturned."

"Exactly. So let's go back to searching for this Madura thingy."

"Magura," Sam corrected him.

"What did you call me?"

"It's a Magura-Schendel. Not a Madura."

"I knew that," Dean said.

"Yeah, right."

"I did!"

"Whatever Dean."

"Uh," Tyler tried to interrupt.

"What you don't believe me, Sammy?"

"No, I don't. And stop calling me, Sammy!"

"Guys…"

"I will call you Sammy, because that's what you are. Sammy."

"Dean, seriously. Stop it."

"Guys!"

"I will stop whenever I want," Dean snorted.

"I'm a grown man! Treat me like one!"

"GUYS!"

"WHAT?" they screamed as they turned to her.

"Behind you."

Both brothers frowned and turned around. Just in time to face a gigantic monster rising up from the sandbox. They jumped out of the way as a huge arm took a swing at them. "Son of a bitch," Dean screamed as he landed heavily on his back. Tyler emptied her shot gun into what appeared to be the Magura-Schendel. It had no effect whatsoever. Sam scrambled up, with a heartily "Crap." This wasn't going to be as much of a breeze as he had thought.