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These Small Hours

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The cold was no longer nipping at your nose as much as it was trying to take full on chunks out of it. As what was supposed to be a quick salt and burn had quickly turned into a long and arduous trek through a graveyard which didn't seem to keep track of its dead. Not the first time it would happen and not the last, but when it happened in the middle of a cold winter night in arguably the coldest state out there- it really started to get to you.

Sam had wandered off after tensions had begun to rise, everyone getting fed up of the seemingly never-ending rows of graves, and you could just about make out his flashlight waving about in the distance. That left Dean and you together which you were perfectly fine with, and not just because you didn't fancy the idea of wandering around in the dark by yourself.

"Got half a mind to burn this whole place to the ground," muttered Dean, his own flashlight moving in quick arcs, eager to leave no doubt. "Two goddamn hours in this hellhole is two too many."

"At least it would be warmer," you agreed absentmindedly, rubbing your arms in an ultimately pointless effort to gain back some body heat.

Dean paused his efforts to look back at you, taking note that you were beginning to shiver quite a bit and with a cold breeze beginning to pick up now it was only going to get colder. Of course he was quite cold as well, but when you spend most of your life doing things like this you learn pretty fast to tough it through. You were pretty new to it however, and he hated seeing you miserable over what was supposed to be a five minute job.

"You can head back to the car if you want," he suggested, already digging through his pockets for the keys. "Me and Sam can handle this part."

Walk back through this creepy and miserable graveyard? Alone? No thank you. You shook your head, willing yourself to warm up. No amount of cold could change your mind on that.

"I'm fine for now," you said in response to his raised eyebrow. "It's better in the long run if we just wrap this up anyway."

If you were going to become a hunter you would have to do it all- good and bad. Even if the bad was likely to cost you a few fingers at this rate.You wanted to prove to Dean that you were more than capable of handling this. You wanted him to be proud of you.

Luckily a shout from Sam stopped whatever argument he was about to bring out. It looked like there was an end in sight to this disaster of a night.

You began to make your way over to the now very distant flashlight when you noticed Dean was taking off his jacket. Opening your mouth to ask him what he was doing- was this that weird hypothermia thing? You were surprised as he held it out for you to put on.

"We've still gotta dig this sucker up and if the grounds as frozen as I think it is this may take a while," he explained as your cold-addled brain tried to catch up. "And if you're pretty damn set on sticking around then we need to keep you warm- Sammy will throw a fit if you lose some fingers."

You let him put it on you and revelled in the remaining heat clinging to it, the size of it covering you much more nicely than your own. And if you also revelled in the scent of Dean attached, well- that was your own secret.