Chapter 2

Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things

"Okay, so, let me get this straight, there have been appearances like mine over the past week, but I'm the only one who got here in a non-physically twisted state?" Evan said, raising an eyebrow at Dean as they walked down the stairs of the house and out the door. "And neither of you have any leads on what did it?"

"The only lead we have is that whatever did it, did it in the shape of a Devil's Trap," Sam confirmed, gazing at Evan suspiciously. "So that rules out demons."

"Right, because demons wouldn't be able to cross the trap to get to you," Dean agreed, frowning. "Low-level demons wouldn't, at least. Higher level demons? Eh." They exited the building and made their way to the Impala. Dean grabbed the door handle of the back door and opened it.

"And you guys are serious about me coming with you?" the young man asked nervously. "You realize in my world, monsters ARE just legends, right? I've never hunted in my life." He paused. "Well, I am second-best in my state at karate, though…"

"Yeah, well, here, they're not," Dean deadpanned. He gestured for Evan to get in the car. "And someone clearly wants you for something."

Evan examined the car, working his jaw with a swallow. As much as he hated to admit, the Hunter was right. Supposing this was somehow real and not a dream, which he still could barely believe, he would be a heck of a lot safer with the Winchesters than he would be out on his own. Especially if he'd been stolen across universes by some supernatural entity. Demons had probably already caught wind of his existence, and if they knew he knew the future, they'd be desperate for a piece of him. Basically, without the Winchesters, his life was fucked. Hell, even WITH the Winchesters, his life was more fucked than the average person's. But still.

He took a deep, trembling breath and nodded. "O-Okay. Sure."

The martial artist chewed his lip as he got in the car and wrinkled his nose. It smelled like beer and sweat. At least he had a lot of leg room, though.

"You alright, Evan?" Sam asked with a studying glance as he got in the passenger's seat, while Dean opened the driver's door and slipped in. Their doors closed with a firm latch. "You don't look so good."

"Yeah, well, finding out you've just been transported to an alternate universe where everything alive except for most humans wants to kill you will do that to a guy." Yeah, Evan was definitely shaking a little. Fuck, he was scared. Scratch that, he was terrified. "Y-You guys have anti-demon possession charms yet?"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances. "Uh, no," Dean muttered. "Damn, that's a good idea, though. We'll have to ask Bobby if he's got any."

"You don't?" Evan stared. "Wait, what point in the series did I fall into, anyway? Is your Dad dead yet?"

Neither brother answered. Pained frowns crossed their faces as Dean put the car into reverse and slammed the gas rather roughly.

"…Gonna take that as a yes," the martial artist muttered, wincing. "Okay, okay, uh, met Ellen and Jo?"

"Yeah, we were just at the Roadhouse a week ago," Sam replied. Well, that was a start, at least. "Man, you really did watch a show about us." He look stunned, like someone had told him his cat was actually a dog.

Okay, so not that early in the series. But it sounded like they were around Season 2, still. "What about…?" Evan furrowed his brow. What came after Ellen and Jo? He'd just been rewatching the series due to coronavirus keeping him at home most of the day. "Uhh… Gordon?"

"Fuck Gordon, man," Dean cursed, slapping the wheel of the Impala. "That fucking son of a bitch!"

Sam shook his head in amusement, though his own gaze looked a little dark at the mention of the obsessive vampire hunter. "We'd just finished that case about a day before yesterday."

Ohhhh. Okay, that gave him a solid reference point. "Hey, guys, you need to kill Gordon next time you meet him," Evan told them seriously. Sam stared at him and he winced. "Trust me, I know. Gordon's a human. But he's really bad news, especially for you, Sam, and he won't stop coming after you until either he's dead or you're dead; even prison won't be enough to stop him. After another encounter, you'll get him sent to prison, but he'll escape and head after you with the sole intent to kill you, Sam."

"Kill me?" Sam asked, brow furrowing. "Why would he want to kill me?"

"Because of your visions, and because you've got—" He froze as Dean glared at him over his shoulder. Oh, wait, shit, Sam didn't know about the demon blood yet, does he? "Well, yeah, just because of your visions," he amended. Evan really didn't want Dean punching the shit out of him, and besides, Sam would learn soon enough any way. He'd need to have a talk with the older Winchester about that, though. "He's gonna learn about them from a demon and think you're a monster. You're not, by the way, and never will be."

Sam looked pretty reassured by that, and though Dean had swiveled his head back to the road, Evan could still see the relief evident on his face.

"This is weird, man, real frickin' weird," the Hunter muttered despite his relief. "He knows about our whole lives. That's creepy, man."

"If it's any consolation, I thought your lives were fictional before now?" Evan offered, his voice shaking. "Also, I'm kinda scared outta my mind right now. The panic's setting in. Also the homesickness."

"So, what about the demon, where do we find it?" Sam demanded.

Evan let out a trembly laugh at the thought of facing demons head on, especially powerful demons like ol' Yellow-Eyes. "It'll show up soon enough. No need to worry about that. All goes according to plan, Azazel's dead by the end of this season of the show."

That seemed to satisfy Dean at the very least, and he nodded. "Damn right. That bastard's head is ours." He paused and raised an eyebrow. "Wait, Azazel?"

The otherworlder snorted and decided to quote a line from the show. Hey, it fit. "What, you don't think his friends call him Yellow-Eyes, do you?"

"I don't even want to think about demons having friends. That's just all kinds of nope."

"Fair."

"You know, we should probably get you to Bobby's…" Sam reasoned, gazing out the window in thought. "He's a great Hunter. He could probably keep you safe. While we try and figure out what to do with you long-term."

Evan gulped a bit. Bobby's didn't have the demon panic room yet, or at least, he didn't think it did, so that probably was not as safe as being with Dean and Sam. "Uh, no thanks, I prefer to stay with you guys. At least with you guys I know more or less what's going down."

A shrug followed his words. "Suit yourself," Sam muttered.

Silence fell over the Impala, and it kept rumbling down the road.

After a while, Dean broke the awkward silence. "So, where we headed next?"

"I… want to pay my respects at Mom's grave," Sam admitted.

Dean turned to look at him, perplexed and more than a little nervous at the thought of returning to the brothers' hometown. "What? Why?"

"Just thought it was about time," he replied, glancing at Evan. "We should, shouldn't we?"

"What?" Evan blinked, and it took him a minute to realize the man was asking if it was something they were supposed to do in the show. He searched through his memory, wondering if they went back to Kansas at this point in the show, then paused before nodding. "Oh, yeah, yeah, you guys definitely need to. There should be some kinda… thing there." Dean and Sam exchanged surprised looks. "There's something… something to do with zombies, I think? Some guy reanimated a girl's corpse because he loved her? There's, uh, a string of strange deaths in the area perpetrated by the dead chick. Runs in my mind that the girl died from a car crash."

"…Ew," Dean grunted, scrunching his nose up. "Humans, I swear. Kissing someone's corpse? That's friggin' unsanitary, man. Sam, you'll need to look that up when we get to the next stop, see if he's right."

"What?" Evan couldn't deny that he felt a little put out by that. "You still don't trust that I actually know what I'm talking about?"

"Frankly, no." Dean stared pointedly at the road ahead while they headed back to Route 30. "I've seen a lot of weird shit, but this still takes the cake. I need more evidence before I believe you. Besides, I'm still not convinced you're not some monster freak. I'm gonna be keeping a very careful eye on you."

"Dean," Sam tried, but the other man gave him a raised eyebrow and a frown. Sam sighed.

Well. He supposed he couldn't fault the man for utilizing healthy skepticism. "Alright, whatever," Evan huffed, reclining in the back of the Impala and yawning. "Well, it was nighttime when I was Alice in Wonderland'ed, so I'm gonna… try to get some sleep."

When Evan awoke next, it was morning, and his back was a little cramped. He yawned and stretched, then blinked as the sun nearly blinded him. "What the—?" He always closed his blinds, so why…? He blearily rubbed his eyes and was startled to find himself in an unusual car with two men in the front. Two… familiar men… one smaller but strongly built, with broad shoulders, and another taller and lankier.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead. You slept like the dead." The shorter one snorted at his quip.

The taller one gently hit his brother's arm. "Dean, come on," he said with a roll of his eyes before glancing back at Evan. "We thought you HAD died for a moment."

Evan startled. O-Oh. Right. Dean and Sam. He'd… fallen into Supernatural. Or at least had dreamt he had, and still hadn't woken up. "Uh, how long was I asleep?"

"It's eight in the morning," Sam offered. "You slept all evening and all night. Whatever happened to you must have really exhausted your body."

The boy blinked rapidly. Whoa. That was probably the longest he'd ever slept… well, ever. "Holy shit," Evan breathed, still a little surprised. "Where are we?"

"Lawrence, Kansas," Dean sighed, disgruntled. "Looked like your tip paid off. Sam checked; credit where credit's due, you were right. Some college girl died in a car crash a couple days ago."

"No suicides, though," Sam said pointedly, gazing at his brother with a studious look.

Dean heaved out an exasperated groan. "What?"

"I think you know what, Dean," Sam responded with a frown. "You really think that circle back there in the graveyard was caused by some kind of spirit? You were avoiding mom's grave site like it was a leper colony."

"You heard what Evan said about the zombie or whatever," the other man snapped. "I mean, look, I didn't really believe him at first, but you saw the obit. You saw the ground around the grave site."

Evan blinked at that information. "You guys went to the grave site already? And wait, Dean, you believe me now?"

"No," Dean declared. "But it's looking more likely that there might be a case here."

"We just left," Sam added, jabbing his thumb back behind them. Evan swiveled around, looking out the back window; sure enough, he could just see the cemetery retreating behind them. He yawned a little, still groggy from having just woken up.

"Okay, so, if I remember right, Dean's correct about this, Sam," Evan told him. "The dead plant life is caused by the… well, I forget what kind of undead being it WAS, exactly, but it causes surrounding plant life to die."

The older of the two Winchesters shifted his broad shoulders back and raised a dark eyebrow. "Huh. Well, whaddya know." He gave Sam a pointed look. "Just like at the cemetery."

That just drew a huff out of the younger sibling. "Okay, okay. So maybe Evan here is right and we actually do have a case."

Evan rolled his eyes. "That's what I've been telling you guys," he muttered. "It's not my fault you didn't believe me."

Dean blinked. "If someone showed up telling you that they were from another world, and knew your life story, would you be willing to believe them easily?"

He had a point. Evan frowned out the window. "So where are we heading?"

"Dr. Mason's office," Dean expositioned, and the otherworlder, not recognizing the name, let out a confused hum. "I thought you knew the future? He's a Professor at the school our little Walker went to when her heart was beating."

A growling stomach caused a dusting of pink to rise on the translocated man's face. "Can we get some fast food first or something? Because I'm starving."

~o~

"Doctor Mason, I presume?" Sam prompted once they reached the man's office. They were standing in the hall over a red carpeted floor. The walls were a plain, simple white, with pictures of school faculty hanging on them, as well as soulless, unoriginal motivational phrases hanging on them in blue lettering. "I'm Sam, this is Dean, and, uh, this is Ia—Hang on, Dean, did you see where Ian went?" The brothers blinked as they looked for their new companion, then Dean startled a bit as he walked up the hall to them and tapped Dean's shoulder from behind.

"Evan," Evan, used to people fudging his name, corrected. "Not Ian." Sam's face twisted in an apologetic wince as he turned to look at Evan.

"Right. We were friends of Angela's. We wanted to offer our condolences."

The Ph.D took a shuddering breath and nodded. "Please, come in," he accepted, pain still dripping out of his voice. He said the words quickly, quietly. It was obvious the loss of Angela had hit him hard, and Evan's heart went out to the poor man.

Sam nudged Evan and leaned over to whisper at him. "Where were you? I thought demons had captured you or something for a second."

"Had to ask the guy at the front desk something real quick," Evan murmured under his breath. "Ill tell you guys later."

"Oh, uh, okay?"

"No one deserves to go through what you had to," Evan, speaking louder, sympathized to Dr. Mas, and as the professor, a shorter man with balding hair and graying eyebrows but still fairly healthy skin, made his way to his office chair to sit down, Sam and Evan pulled up chairs opposite the office desk. Dean wandered over to a shelving unit that sat next to a black-and-white class picture, checking out the trophies sitting there: various knickknacks from various cultures, as well as a few books.

"Thank you," Doctor Mason said, nodding sadly as he reclined in the office chair. "I still have some old photos of Angela from the funeral. Would you like to look through them?"

Sam and Evan exchanged a glance. Sam gave a small shrug, then they both returned their gazes to the aging professor and nodded. "Sure, that sounds nice," the Winchester agreed.

Doctor Mason pulled from one of his drawers a covered book with many pictures framed in its pages; Evan couldn't tell which. They all showed a beautiful girl of average height, with short brown hair, a nice figure, and a cute face. In all of them, she was a bundle of joy, clearly one of those people who could be eternally happy.

"She was very beautiful," Sam observed, speaking Evan's thoughts aloud. His forehead wrinkled as he gave the doctor a sad gaze.

"Yes, she certainly was," Dr. Mason agreed, swallowing.

The sound of a book closing pulled the group's attention to Dean. The short-haired Hunter's mouth was curled into a frown as he lifted a book with a dark blue cover. The front cover held a symbol depicting a triangle, an oval at its peak with a back slash slicing through the top of the triangle. A backwards C overlapped the bottom left corner. It had no English title; instead the title and name of the author had been stenciled in Ancient Greek. "This is an unusual book," Dean said. He held a steady stare at the good doctor.

Confused at the heaviness behind Dean's gaze, the professor wetted his lips awkwardly. "It's Ancient Greek," he offered. "I teach a course."

"I've always enjoyed Ancient Greek myths and stories," Evan mused aloud, earning himself a gentle kick on the shin from Sam and a mouthing of not now. The boy flinched. Ow.

Dean's brow hiked some more, but he put the book back before walking forward. "So, a car crash. That's – that's horrible."

"Angie was only a mile away from home when…" The professor's voice broke and he trailed off, unable to continue.

Dean opened his mouth, but before he could continue, Evan nodded at the fern on the Professor's desk. "Sorry, can't help but notice because I'm ADD, but that's a lovely plant, Doctor," he said, raising an eyebrow at Dean and Sam. "Where did you get it?"

The doctor blinked. "Uh… there's a floral and greenery shop not too far away."

Dean glanced at the fern, narrowed his eyes, then blinked a few times himself, confusion crossing his face. "In any case, doctor, I think I can understand what you're going through. Sam and I were in a car crash with our Dad not too long ago… Dad didn't make it."

The doctor took a shaky breath and nodded. "Now that my dear Angela's gone… I… Family's everything, you know? And now I'm just lost without her." He closed his eyes, lower lip trembling.

"We're very sorry," Sam consoled.

~o~

At the local library, Evan and Sam logged onto the computers and started searching the web. Dean, meanwhile, checked a few library books. After Dr. Mason, they'd came to the library for some research. Luckily for Evan, who'd been starving, they'd taken a quick pit stop to grab some McDonald's first, so he was able to research on a full stomach. Sam glanced over at him, giving him that dewey-eyed sensitive look he was so well-known for.

"All things considered, you're taking things pretty well," Sam observed, nodding at him. "At least, on the outside. You sure you're okay?"

Evan was silent for a while. Then he nodded. "I was never really that close with my family, you know?" he said with a shrug. "So I'm not really that worried. Plus, I still don't really believe my own eyes right now. People don't just get sucked into other worlds, you know? Especially fiction worlds. That kind of thing only happens in Hollywood, or, or bad TV or something. Like, all of my senses are telling me this world is real, but… it can't be." He threw his hands up in frustration, then dragged them down his face. "That's the biggest thing I can't wrap my head around. This world can't be real. Like… I must have developed schizophrenia or something."

Sam studied him for a while, then nodded in thought. "I guess I'd kinda feel the same if I suddenly wound up in, I dunno, Scooby-Doo or something."

"It's also really oddly coincidental," he grumbled as he typed up another search phrase.

"Oh? Why's that?"

Evan shrugged. "You know fanfic, right?" At Sam's blank stare, Evan frowned. "They're, like, fan-written works of existing book series, or movies, or TV shows, or comics. Stuff like that. Like, someone will write a story about… what if Luke Skywalker went Dark Side?"

Sam opened his mouth in an 'o'. "Right, okay, sure."

"I used to write fanfics where I inserted myself into the story of some series to see what changes would occur," Evan explained. "So, like, it's way too coincidental that I'm here now. It can't be real. I've gotta be dreaming or hallucinating this. Our brains pull from our past experiences so it's way more believable than this being real."

Evan winced; even to himself, it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than anything.

"Well, for what it's worth," Sam said, humming as he returned to his research, "it definitely all feels real from where I'm standing. And trust me, you don't want to take the chances of it being not real."

"Yeah, true that," Evan mumbled. "Don't want to be a demon's bitch."

Dean snorted as he returned. "Definitely not. I'm kinky," he added, "but not that kinky." He slammed a book down between them, open to a page showing some odd Greek symbols matching the ones on the book at the office. "Check this out. Ancient Greek spells and rituals for, get this, communicating with the dead. So powerful it literally brings the corpses back to life. Full-on zombie action."

Sam wrinkled his nose. "That's some pretty heavy stuff."

"Yep," Dean agreed. "And guess what happens? These things kill plants around them, animals, even."

"Which is exactly what we're seeing now," Evan tagged on.

"Sooo… there really is something going on here," Sam slowly said. "We need to find out whoever raised Angela and put her back in her grave. Does it say how to kill her?"

"Nope. There's legends of the walking dead in just about every society new and old. All disagree on how it's done. Evan, got any clues that can help us in that head of yours?"

"Willing to believe me easily now?" Evan called back, frowning.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm an evidence guy, and so far you've been pretty right on a lot. I'd rather kill this dead bitch before she kills anyone, so I'm just gonna take a leap and say that, for the sake of the little time we have on our hands, you're who you say you are, completely. So, do you know how we kill this thing?"

Evan scrunched his face up in thought. "Runs in my mind that you tricked her to the cemetery, then trapped her back in her casket and stabbed her with silver."

Sam let out a low whistle while Dean snorted. "Huh. Well, I'm game. So where is this dead bitch, anyway? Dr. Mason couldn't have raised her even though he had that book of Greek rituals on his hands. Those plants at his office were all nice and healthy. Good observation, by the way."

Evan grinned. "Thanks. Well, that was why I took some time catching up to you guys. I asked the front desk about Dr. Mason's P.A., Neal."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Dude has a P.A.? That's news to me."

"What'd you ask them?" Sam wondered.

Evan grinned and pulled a slip of paper from his pocket, slapping it onto the table. Sam and Dean looked over the table at it, and Evan grinned. "I lied to them that I'd found one of Neal's textbooks and asked what his address was so that I could go return it to him."

There was a pregnant beat that stretched out as the brothers just kinda stared at the paper, then at each other.

"Huh," Dean managed, raising his eyebrows at Sam.

Sam gaped and shook his head. "No. No, Dean. No."

"What? All I'm saying is, the kid's pretty good."

"No, we are not bringing him on more cases with us. We talked about this. Besides, we don't even know he's the one who rose Angela for sure—!"

Evan raised his hand. "Objection! Allow me to repeat: Neal is the P.A., which means he has full access to all of Dr. Ma… May… Uh… all of the doctor's books. And I can give the full Kripke Guarantee that if we were to head to this address right now, the plants inside would be dead."

"Well, it's at least worth a shot," Sam begrudgingly agreed.

They swept out of the library, Dean putting the book back first, and hurried back into the car. It was just after 1 pm now, with busy traffic engulfing the roads. The Winchester drummed his fingers impatiently on the wheel as they weaved through the blockage.

"Are we gonna talk about how you guys had apparently decided what to do with me without my say-so?" Evan brought up while they drove.

Sam frowned at him. "You are not becoming a Hunter," he said forcefully.

"You're not my dad," Evan returned, folding his arms across his chest and frowning evenly at him. "You can't tell me what to do. If I'm really in this world, then I need to be trained in how to survive it. Like I was saying yesterday, someone like me? I'd be shocked if I didn't have the full attention of Heaven and Hell already."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean stared over his shoulder. "There's no such thing as Heaven."

"Dean, there are demons and Hell, and you know it, but you're going to question the existence of Heaven? That's just stupid." Flabbergasted and a little hurt, Dean opened his mouth, but Evan got there first. "I mean, seriously, come on, Dean. I know you have your hang-ups with angels and God and shit, trust me; I've been an atheist for the past three years, but guess what, in this world, they exist, and they're dicks."

Dean closed his mouth. "Oh. That part doesn't surprise me in the slightest. I still can't believe you on the idea that they exist though, sorry, dude."

And in the meantime, now it was Sam's turn to fold his arms. "Angels and God can't be dicks, they're divine, they're… they're holy."

Dean stared at Sam.

"What?"

Evan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just wait a few years on that one, Sam. Anyway, case in point—I can't sit still knowing there's evil shit out there waiting to kill people. If I can help someone, I want to be able to help them the most efficient way possible; which in this case happens to be hunting. If you try and keep me from hunting with you, fine, I'll just go hunt on my own. Besides, I'm safer with the two of you than anywhere else."

The brothers sighed, then Dean threw his hands up. "Alright, alright, you can come with us. At least for a little while."

"Dean—!" Sam started, but Dean shook his head.

"You heard the kid. Do you want him going off on his own and getting himself killed?"

At last, they pulled up to Neal's house. It didn't exactly look abnormal, but an odd, creepy air rose up from it, causing Evan to shiver a little. "Now, listen," Dean said as they got out of the car and walked up to the house. "We're just here to make sure it's this Neal guy right now." They stalked up to the house, then gently rang the doorbell. When no one answered, they rang it again, then again and again. At last, Dean picked the lock on the door and slipped inside, Sam and Evan close behind him. They crept in, looking for plants. One was on the kitchen table, dead.

"Well, I'd say that's proof enough for me," Dean muttered.

"Told you so," Evan said with a nod.

They retreated, locking the door and wiping their prints. They then headed out to grab a motel and rest for the rest of the day. Sam researched zombies some more, while Dean went out to buy some beer. Evan found himself bored, and turned to the TV to cut out that boredom with TV shows.

~o~

Evening fell, and before the sky went dark, the trio headed to Neal's house again. Sam and Dean scoped around the house while Evan protected the car, and Dean waved them over, having spied a window into the basement hidden between some (dying) shrubbery. They crept over, and when they glanced through the window, they saw the zombie girl sharpening a knife.

"What do we do?" Sam asked Dean, who lifted a finger to his lips.

"I have an idea," he whispered. "You two come with me."

They broke into the house again, then Dean loudly cursed, "Fuck, Neal's not here! Where the heck is that dead bitch, huh? We need to fucking kill it!"

Sam blinked and tilted his head. Evan grinned and whispered to him, "Play along." Then, loudly, he griped, "Yeah, I hope she's not sleeping in her grave. That'd make it really hard to do that counter-spell to stop her from remaining undead."

"We don't have much time, guys, we need to do it at nightfall," Sam tagged on. "If Neal's not here, we'll just have to take our chances that she's sleeping in her grave instead of killing people!"

They quickly left, got in the car, and headed towards the cemetery. Dean looked worried, taking a swig of the beer he'd bought earlier. "This had better work, dammit," he cursed as they pulled up to the cemetery, opened the trunk, and selected a silver weapon to stab the undead Angela with.

They finished making preparations for Angela's death, Evan keeping a careful eye on Angela's grave while hidden up a nearby tree with one of their spare phones. After about an hour of them digging up Angela's grave, the sun sank in the sky and night spilled over the horizon. Evan almost thought the plan hadn't worked, then he spied a quickly moving woman. He quickly called Dean the moment he spotted her off in the distance.

"She coming?" Dean demanded.

Evan nodded, narrowing his eyes. "She's fast for a dead girl, too. She's really movin'."

They hung up the call, and the brothers pretended to be setting up the ritual. They got out some candles, some various weeds and herbs, and assorted other things. Angela's face twisted in rage, and she poured on even more speed, running faster than a human possibly could. She leaped into the grave, lying in it before twisting around to snarl at the brothers.

"Can't kill me when I'm in my grave!" she hissed. "I heard you!"

Dean grinned.

"Gotcha, dead bitch!" he chuckled, leaping into the grave and stabbing her with the silver weapon. Sam reached in and shot four silver bullets into her skull, just to be sure.

Angela's corpse flopped, motionless, to the grave.

Evan climbed down out of the tree, picking his way carefully between the night-covered gravestones to the brothers. Dean was climbing out of the grave, wiping his brow. He'd yanked the weapon from the corpse, and now let gravity pull it to the ground. It lay there while he sat on the ground. Evan jogged up to them, nodding and grinning.

"Nice work, guys."

"Nice work, yourself," Dean replied, smirking. "Good idea, tricking her into thinking she needed to get in her grave. I was only going to get her to the graveyard, then use Sam as bait."

"Hey!" Sam stared at him, eyes wide. "Why can't you be the bait?"

He smirked wider. "Because I'm the older brother, Sammy."

Evan snorted. "Alright, funny." He yawned a bit, stretching. "Now, then, I'm exhausted from having my first encounter with the supernatural, so let's go back to the motel for some sleep, eh?"

"First things first," Dean said, jabbing his thumb at the grave. "We gotta fill this baby back up."

"Dammit," Evan muttered.