Dean and Tessa dropped Sam off at O'Brien Baptist Cemetery before heading off on their own hunt. Tessa climbed into the passenger seat, ignoring Dean's frantic mutters to keep her feet off of the dash.
"Turn here," Tessa instructed, pointing to a gravel road on the left of the car. Dean did as she said, again complaining as dirt flew up and hit the car.
As they drove on the narrow strip of dirt, Tessa was haunted by memories of the day of her mother's funeral.
"Daddy, where is Mommy?" Tessa, a small girl of five, asked for the hundredth time, her tiny brow furrowed.
Daniel Lynn took in a shaky breath before reciting the painful response. "Baby girl, Mommy... Mommy had to go. She's in a better place now. She's going to watch down on you, Tessie," he choked on the last few words, his vision blurring as he tried to concentrate on the road in front of him.
"But I want her here, Daddy!" the child's voice was taking on the whining tone all too familiar to Daniel. He opened his mouth to respond, but Tyler beat him to it.
"She's not coming back, Tessie," Tyler's voice was sweet and comforting. He wrapped an arm around his little sister before continuing. "I miss her too. It's gonna be okay."
"Okay, Ty," Tessa's childlike demeanor brightened a small bit at her brother's words. She began fidgeting with her navy colored dress, picking at a loose thread.
Daniel breathed a sigh of relief. His babies, his sweet, sweet babies, could be okay. He would never let them down, he decided. Not again.
"Tessa?" Tessa blinked rapidly, clearing her mind of the images. She turned to Dean, who had parked the car without her noticing.
"Let's go. We need to end this," Dean followed Tessa as she led the way to the old cemetery.
The trees were still green and lush, making a shady roof over the grey headstones. Small signs here and there marked the rows. Tessa carefully picked her way to the first row. After a quick scan, the pair realized that many of the front rows held dates from the 1800s.
"It's farther back, then. I'll start at row 30," Dean took off, bending close to the ground to read the weathered stone. Although he couldn't see her, Tessa nodded before beginning on her own rows.
She bent low to scan the weathered headstones. The first few rows were a bust, but her heart leaped as she saw the name "Wilson" printed on one stone. Coming closer to it, she realized it was not Rose with a defeated sigh. Dean was well ahead of Tessa, looking frustrated.
Sweat began beading on the back of Tessa's neck as she moved closer and closer to row 24, where her mother and brother were buried. She stopped a few feet away from the looming marble headstone, where the words "Hannah Theresa Michaels Lynn: 1962-1989. Beloved mother, wife, sister, and daughter."
"Hey, Mom," Tessa murmured, kneeling in front of the grave. She ran two shaking fingers over the smooth marble, the stone cold against her hot skin. She managed a smile through her tear-clouded vision. "I miss you. Dad, too. Dean and Sam, they're great, and they are gonna help me kill that thing that took you and Tyler, from us, okay? I love you."
Tessa moved on, toward one of the newer grave sites in the cemetery. She again knelt in front of the grave, tears now rapidly falling down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she managed to choke out, curling herself inwards. "I'm so, so sorry, Ty. It's not fair," Tessa took in a gulp of air. "We're going to kill the bitch, and everything's going to be okay."
The words sounded foreign in Tessa's mind, but she hung on to them, clinging to the idea of a brighter future than the bleak one before her now. She tore herself away from the graves, only pausing to pluck a few wildflowers from the bushes surrounding the cemetery. Tessa laid the brightly colored flowers against the graves before continuing her search.
She passed by several headstones listlessly, pausing only to glance up at Dean occasionally. He was intent on his search, and even from a distance Tessa could see that his brow was furrowed. Dean somehow managed to make annoyance look good.
With that thought, Tessa blushed, turning away from the man. She scoured headstone after headstone, row after row, until she saw it.
Even from a distance, Tessa could make out the words "Rose Evelyn Wilson" printed in curling white script on a dark grey stone. She quickened her pace, sliding to a stop in front of the grave. Tessa sank to her knees, not thinking about the mud that was now no doubt stuck to her jeans.
"Dean!" the man was by Tessa's side in seconds, and he joined her on the ground in silence. Hesitantly, Dean wrapped an arm around Tessa's shoulders as tears began prickling at her eyes. She wanted to jump on the grave, pound her fist into the stone, but instead, Tessa did nothing.
"Let's go back to the car," Dean, with surprisingly gentleness, began pulling Tessa towards the car.
"No- what the hell are you talking about, Dean?" Tessa turned around angrily, clenching her fists to her side.
"We have to go get Sam. This bitch has to go before she hurts anyone else," Dean gave Tessa a strange look. He loosened his grip on her arm as she continued to resist.
Tessa's mind was whirling. Killing the ghost, or whatever they were going to do, was definitely the most important thing. But she couldn't just leave; it didn't seem right. There was something missing...
"Why aren't you burning the bones?" Tessa said suddenly, remembering that piece of information that Dean had mentioned to her.
Realization washed over Dean's face. "I was going to call Sammy first, but if you want to-"
"I can handle it, Dean. I'm not a child," she snapped, cutting swiftly across him.
With a small laugh Dean jogged across the cemetery to the Impala and returned with two shovels. Without another word the pair began digging, no sound but their occasional grunts and shovels clinking to be heard.
"Would you like to do the honors?" Dean smirked, holding the tarnished lighter out to Tessa. She slowly reached out a hand, hesitant to commit such an act.
In her whole life, the worst thing Tessa Lynn had done was cheat on an eighth grade math test. She had, of course, immediately confessed and taken a zero, but that was her first and last taste of rebellion. So going from being a strict rule-follower to burning a corpse, no doubt breaking a million federal offenses, was a bit jarring to Tessa. Then she pictured the faces of her family, and a look of grim determination crossed her face.
"Of course. Time for a bitch to go to Hell," Tessa spit at the open casket.
And so she dropped the lighter, watching with satisfaction as the flames crackled in the still air.