Summary: AU – Post 2x21 – Simple salt and burns have never been simple, but they're dealing with a whole new level of danger now.

Disclaimer: Not mine

If you feel a chill in the air, it's my spirit hanging somewhere. – Amos Lee

"Goodness," the waitress says, approaching the table and pulling her cardigan a little tighter. "It's drafty over here." She looks up at the ceiling, frowning when she doesn't feel any air wafting down from the overhead vent. "Huh." Her gaze shifts to the green-eyed stranger. "Do you feel that?"

Dean shrugs. "Not really."

"Huh," the waitress repeats, still puzzled since she hasn't noticed the mysterious draft anywhere else in the diner. Maybe it's because this corner booth is surrounded by windows. She shakes her head. "Anyway...what'll it be, hon?"

"Double bacon cheeseburger with fries and a Coke...and a Cobb salad with house dressing and water."

She snorts at the unusual pairing as she jots the order. "It's all about balance, right?"

Dean smiles when she winks at him, waiting for her to disappear behind the swinging kitchen doors before looking at his brother. "She thinks you're weird."

Sam rolls his eyes on the other side of the booth. "She doesn't even know I'm here."

"That's because I'm here."

Sam pulls a face at the implication that women – and people in general – ignore him because they're distracted by Dean's awesomeness. They both know that's not true. He sighs. "So, we're heading to the cemetery after this?"

Dean nods. "Unless you've changed your mind?"

"No. It has to be done."

"Yeah. But you don't have to go."

Sam scowls. He's not having this conversation for the hundredth time. "Dean. Yes, I do. Where you go, I go."

"You are so fucking sappy," Dean grumbles, though he can't hide the smile tugging at his lips because he wouldn't have it any other way.

The waitress approaches the table again. "One Coke, one water."

Dean nods his thanks as she sets both cups in front of him.

"Your order will be up soon."

"Sounds good," Dean says, passing the water to Sam as she turns to check on a neighboring table.

"Besides," Sam continues. "It's just a simple salt and burn, right?"

Dean hums at that. Simple salt and burns have never been simple, but they're dealing with a whole new level of danger now.

Sam senses his big brother's concern, and though he shares it, he's not focusing on it. They have a job to do, and their current situation – their new normal – shouldn't stop them from doing it. "It'll be fine."

"It better be." Dean holds the kid's gaze, hating this new level of worry. "I mean it, Sam. When I light that bitch on fire, you stay clear. We can't risk it."

"I know."

One of the kitchen doors bangs against the wall as the waitress emerges and walks toward the corner booth. "Alright, hon..." A few of the fries tumble off the side of the plate as she sets the double bacon cheeseburger in front of Dean along with the oversized salad bowl. "Enjoy."

Dean slides the bowl across the table and digs into his meal. "You ever think about crossing over?"

Sam makes an irritated sound. "Dean."

"Sammy."

Sam glares.

Dean doesn't relent. "Have you?"

"No. Have you?"

"Maybe," Dean admits, licking the ketchup off his fingers. "Whenever my time comes. But not without you."

Sam smiles at the reference to the pact they made years ago – that they either go together or not at all. "Now who's being sappy?"

Dean flips him off before taking another bite of his burger and moaning in ecstasy. "This is so fucking good."

Sam's smile lingers, happy his brother is enjoying his dinner even if he doesn't touch his own.

The waitress notices when she returns. "Decided against the salad, huh? Want me to box it up?"

Dean shakes his head, his mouth too full of fries to speak.

"Just the bill then?"

Dean nods as she slips it under the edge of his napkin, then takes the salad back to the kitchen. When he's finished, he settles up at the cash register and heads out to the Impala.

"Jerk," Sam growls as the diner door swings shut in his face.

Dean chuckles. "Bitch."

Half an hour later, they're in the cemetery.

"She should be over here," Sam says, leading the way.

Dean follows, trying not to focus on the kid's back. He wonders if he'll always see this when he looks at his brother from behind – a blood-soaked shirt compliments of Jake's knife. He figures he will. It's an impossible thing to forget, to unsee.

"Found her," Sam calls out, motioning for Dean to hurry.

Dean stares at the headstone before dropping his supplies and getting to work. The ground is soft from recent rain, making the job go quickly. "Remind me again why you're not digging?"

Sam snorts, watching as Dean throws another shovelful of dirt out of the hole. "I think you know."

Dean grunts and keeps at it for another hour, smiling when the shovel strikes something more solid. "Yahtzee."

Sam crouches, leaning forward to watch his brother pry open the casket. "There it is."

Dean nods. He sees the necklace, too – the one preventing this woman from finding peace in whatever waits beyond. He glances at Sam. "Do you sense anything?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yes. If she was here, I'd know it."

Dean nods again. Their new situation does have its perks. "Okay." He sighs and grabs the lighter fluid from the edge of the grave. "Back up. And keep your eyes open."

"Yeah," Sam agrees and stands. He knows Dean is worried about the ghost causing trouble, and his concern is not unfounded. He scans the shadows as Dean squirts a generous amount of lighter fluid on the corpse. "So far, so good," he reports. "Just get on with it."

"I'm trying," Dean replies, frowning when his lighter won't light. He ditches it and reaches for his backup matches. "Still good up there?"

"Yeah. How's it going down there?"

"Shitty. The lighter crapped out and now the matches won't strike."

"I think I know why," Sam says an instant before Dean sees why.

The ghost appears out of nowhere, hovering over her dead body and reaching for Dean's throat. She screeches as her see-through hand somehow manages to grab the amulet around his neck.

"No!" Dean growls as his brother flickers out of sight. "Sammy!"

The kid reappears – no longer above the grave but in it.

"Sam, don't!"

Sam ignores his brother's warning as he attracts the ghost's attention, drawing her away from Dean.

"Sam!" Dean yells as the apparition lunges.

"Light her up!" Sam yells back, doing his best to dodge the pissed-off spirit. "Now, Dean!"

"Fuck!" Dean hisses, striking match after match until one finally glows with fire. He checks to make sure Sam is no longer in the grave before climbing out himself and tossing the match into the casket. "Burn, bitch!"

Seconds later, the corpse is engulfed.

Dean turns to see the woman's ghost entangled with Sam. She lets out an ethereal moan as the flames begin to dissolve her remains and melt the binding necklace. When she disappears, she takes Dean's little brother with her.

"No. No, no, no, no, no..." Dean feels like his heart was just ripped from his chest, like he's back on his knees in the mud at Cold Oak. "Sam!" His voice echoes through the cemetery. "Sammy!" He swallows against the dread and fear and grasps the amulet, holding it tight, willing his brother to return. "Sam!"

Sam flickers into sight. "I'm here. I'm okay."

"Holy shit!" Dean feels breathless, his relief replaced with anger as he stares at the kid standing beside him. "Don't ever do that again! Do you fucking hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Sam replies in typical little bother fashion. "But I had to do something, Dean. She was attacking you. And that."

Dean nods, his hand still wrapped around the amulet. They're pretty sure that's how Sam is still tied to this world, still tied to Dean. The gold charm had always represented their connection, but now it connects them in a whole different way.

"But really, how am I not tied to you?" Sam had asked that first night he had appeared, and Dean couldn't argue against that even as he had shaken his head in awe.

One minute, Sam had been dead – grey and motionless on a dirty bed in a rundown shack in Cold Oak...and the next, he had been sitting shotgun next to Dean.

"Don't do it," Sam had said, had stared at his big brother with that expression Dean could never resist.

"Sam." Dean's voice had cracked. "It's the only way."

"It's not," Sam had countered. "Look at me. I'm still here. I'm still with you. You don't have to sell your soul for something you already have."

"It's not the same," Dean had replied as his little brother had flickered in the seat beside him. "It's not the same, Sammy."

"So, what's the alternative, Dean? You sell your soul, and they take you instead?" The draft in the car had become more intense as Sam had glared. "Do you want me to feel how you feel right now?"

Dean had paled at the accusation. He would never want Sam to experience this kind of pain. "No."

"Then don't do it," Sam had begged. "Just...give this a chance. I'm still here."

"Thank god you're still here," Dean tells his brother, giving the kid a once-over as the fire smolders beside them in the open grave. "And you're sure you're okay? She didn't hurt you?"

"I'm fine," Sam assures. "It just scared me."

Me, too, Dean thinks, though tonight's scenario has been his fear from the start – that Sam would get swept away with whatever supernatural baddie they were taking out. He squeezes the amulet, smiling when Sam's hazy image glows brighter.

Sam flashes a bitch face at his brother's new favorite trick. "Are you done?"

Dean chuckles.

"Seriously, Dean. Can we go?"

"Hell yes," Dean agrees, eager to leave the cemetery and the burning corpse behind them. He releases the amulet and gathers the supplies he brought. "Come on."

Sam follows, taking his place in the passenger seat as Dean loads the trunk. Seconds later, the Impala is cruising down the highway, heading toward whatever motel they find across the state line.

Sometimes Dean thinks it's selfish to keep Sam with him like this, but Sam seems happy and Dean is grateful to have him. They still crisscross the country, saving people and hunting things. It's still them against the world. There's still no one else Dean would rather have riding shotgun beside him.

He glances at his little brother and smiles as he turns up the radio.

THE END