A/N: All right, y'all, I'm going to break my pattern here and post two chapters in the same day. This one's just too short; I'd feel bad just dropping a shorty and making you wait a whole 'nother week for an actual chapter. Plus these two kind of go together nicely. Here we go!

Appendix D

Section K

Alex, Age 18

Spades, Salt, and Fire

They were lucky. The spring thaw had set in and the ground was starting to soften. Even so, unearthing Jane and Don Triplet was a vicious battle with the dirt. Dean stood between the two graves, holding a flashlight for each as he watched Sam and Alex struggle with their spades, his brother in one hole, his daughter in the other. Neither of them would allow him to dig, hoping to avoid a popped stitch.

"Really, I can take a turn if either of you get tired," he offered.

"No," Sam and Alex said in unison.

Dean sighed at the blackened sky. Digging wasn't his favorite thing, but he was bored out of his mind just standing there.

The night crept on. It took nearly twice as long as usual to reach the coffins. When Alex finally scraped off the last of the soil from the lid, she tossed her shovel out and crouched down to open Jane's casket.

She stopped.

It's not going to look like her, she told herself.

She tried one more time to open the coffin. She stopped again.

It's not going to look like her, she tried more firmly.

But for some reason she was paralyzed.

"Hey. Alex." Dean's voice came from above her. She looked up to see him crouched down at the edge of the hole, offering a hand up. "Come on."

She took it, though she didn't necessarily need the help and she didn't pull very hard on him to climb out, trying not to tax his fresh injury. Straightening up, she glanced back over her shoulder at the casket. Dread irrepressibly crept up in her and she had to look away.

Then she heard her uncle open Don's coffin.

"I'm going to go sit a minute," she said.

"'Kay," Dean said as he attempted to help Sam up (the younger Winchester just swatted the elder's hand away).

Alex walked a few paces past the headstones and plopped down on the damp grass facing the dual graves. She watched as her father shook out a box of salt onto Don's corpse and her uncle jumped down into Jane's grave. She heard the creak of the hinges. When he climbed back out, Sam spotted Alex and walked over to her.

"Don't get a chill," he said, sitting down next to her. "It's tricky working this hard in the cold. Keeps you cool for a while, but then you start to sweat, and then that makes you too cold… vicious cycle….

"It's not them, you know," Sam said. "They're not really in there."

"I know," Alex said quietly. "But it was them."

"Yeah, it was," Sam agreed, nodding slightly. "But not anymore."

"Yeah," said Alex. "Not anymore."

Sam watched her for a moment. It was obviously difficult for her, but she seemed to be handling it well considering. Perhaps this was a good way to ease her into what she would be facing in the morning.

"Don't sit too long," he said.

He pecked her on the head, then stood and went back to work. She watched for a little while longer, and by the time Jane and Don's bodies had been fully dowsed in salt and lighter fluid, Alex had gotten a touch of the chill her uncle had warned her about. She stood and walked over to the graves, retrieving her leather jacket from beside Jane's headstone and putting it on (a bit of a struggle given the dampness on her arms). She tried not to look into either pit.

Dean and Sam both struck a cluster of matches.

"Sorry, Don," said Dean regretfully.

"Yeah… sorry, Jane," Sam echoed.

The corpses went up in flames.