On my last story, I got some helpful reviews about some HUGE mistakes I had made in the writing, and as soon as they were pointed out to me, I noticed them too. So, for those reviewers, I'm sorry for my sloppy writing, and thanks for the help(:

Hopefully this story is a little better...

Disclaimer: I do not own Sam or Dean or the plot(:

Sam Winchester watched his brother from above the grave, a small grin on his face. If his brother continued to choose scissors in a situation like this, Sam wouldn't have to dig up another body for as long as they were in this.

"Having fun?" he called because 1.) he was actually bored and 2.) Dean sounded like the work was killing him.

Dean stopped a second, propping the shovel up in the wet soil and peering up at his brother, leaning heavily onto the shovel. "What do you think, Sam?"

Sam held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I was just asking..."

Suddenly, he was thrown violently backwards and thudded against the tree. Just my luck, he thought as he sat up. One lonely tree in this graveyard and I hit it.

Dean grabbed his rock salt gun. "Sam!" he cried.

Sam stood up. "I'm fine," he replied, shaking slightly and having to lean heavily on the tree when the world shifted. Focusing his vision, he made out the pale shape of Gary Parker, the man who was getting revenge on the bullies who used to pick on him. "It's Gary, Dean! Find the bones; I'll hold him off."

Dean didn't argue; he dropped the gun and dug with surprising speed and strength, eager to get this done before something bad happened.

Meanwhile, Sam watched Gary, trying to regain his composure and pushing himself gently off of the tree. Gary stared at him, eyes shooting daggers Sam's way.

Sam darted forward and managed to wrap his fingers around his own rock salt gun before Gary threw him backwards again. This time, he missed the tree, but he still managed to hit an old grave, which bent backward in the soil with the force of a full grown man being slammed into it.

Gary was looming over him in the next second, and Sam tried to gain control over his arms to steady the gun and aim. He fired a shot, and it hit Gary square in the chest. The ghost boy dissolved from the bullet, leaving Sam time to sit up, panting, and trying to figure out what to do.

"Sammy?" Dean called. "You okay?"

Gary appeared again. "Keep digging!" Sam ordered and stood up, aimed, and fired another shot, but Gary had disappeared from Sam's line of vision. The youngest Winchester pointed the gun around the empty graveyard, looking for the menace, when he was thrown down for a third time. The gun slipped from his grasp and landed who-the-hell-knows-where, and Sam cried out.

Gary appeared on top of him, eyes full of evil and grin dripping with venom and hatred. "Dean!" Sam managed to get out, because he wanted his last word, if this were to be it, to be his brother's name.

All of a sudden, Gary's eyes widened, and he shot up into flames. For a couple of seconds, he howled and screeched in pain, and then the fire claimed his translucent figure and he dematerialized in front of Sam's very eyes.

Dean was at his side in the next, smelling like wet earth and smoke. "You okay?" he asked as he helped his little brother into a sitting position.

Sam groaned. "Yeah."

Dean snickered. "Dude, you just got hammered by Casper the acne-covered ghost."

"Shut up, jerk."

"Just saying, bitch."

And if he noticed, Dean didn't say anything about Sam leaning heavily on him as he gathered the weapons and they made their way back to the Impala.