Flawed Perfection [Sam Winchester]

11 | the curious case of dean winchester [part two]

As Kendall digs at her normal pace, hair pinned up in a ponytail and sweat beading her forehead, the grunting of Dean digging beside her is hard to ignore. It's almost as distracting as his whining.

"Jawbone of a murderer. Great," he remarks sarcastically.

Kendall keeps on digging, shaking her head. "If all you're gonna do is complain, can you dress it up a little bit?"

"What? How?"

"I don't know, but something's gotta give. Because hearing your voice whine in a graveyard where I am both cold and hot is the equivalent of eating a dry saltine cracker."

Old man Dean sends her a glare, sticking his shovel into the dirt as he breathes heavily. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind. But even you know this really sucks. How do we even know her spell's gonna work?"

"We don't," Bobby tells him. "But we ain't got a Plan B. Now, less flappin' and more diggin'."

Kendall's pulling her weight just fine and is sure they've almost hit the jackpot when she hears something crack.

"Oh, God," Dean exclaims. Kendall sighs, resting against the edge of the grave as Bobby rolls his eyes at Dean. At this rate, they'd be here all night. "My elbows," he moans. "I'm all creaky."

"We can oil you up later, Tin Man, but it's kind of do or die for you right now." With the hand not holding the shovel, Kendall gestures at Dean's frail and withering figure. "Literally."

"Yeah, so hurry up, you crybaby," Bobby says.

"Pound it up your ass, Ironsides," Dean shoots back.

"One little grave." Bobby shakes his head. "You don't see Kendall complaining."

"Kendall's not an eighty-year-old man, is she? And if you're so eager to get the job done, you should do it."

"Fine. I'll hop right in."

"Well, least your legs are numb," Dean replies.

"Shut up and dig, Grandma."

"Please," Kendall pleads, having resumed her digging and hoping she could tune out their arguing. "One more complaint and all these people will be rolling over in their graves."

Finally, Dean starts digging again. Of course, that only lasts for all of half a second. "Oh! Now it's my back!"

Yeah. This could take a while.

=

Kendall looks up as Sam pushes out of the bar, glancing around until he spots her and Dean. He makes his way over and Dean asks, "How's it going in there?"

At that, Sam scoffs. "How do you think it's going?" Which is fair. "What about you guys? You have everything you need?"

"Just missing the final ingredient: his DNA," Kendall tells him.

"He was chewing it." Sam holds up a toothpick and Dean grabs it. "Hurry up. Please."

"All right. Just keep him busy. And Sammy...don't lose."

Sam nods, sharing a quick look with Kendall before disappearing back into the bar. "The witch is kicking his ass, isn't he?"

Dean shrugs. "I wouldn't be so sure. Sam can come through in the clutch." He takes a step and grunts, grabbing at his left arm.

"You okay," Kendall asks, watching him carefully.

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Now, let's get this spell going."