"Shhh," Dean murmured, smoothing out her hair. He saw the wince at the light and went to snap it off, looking out the window as he did. Sighing, he rolled his eyes. "Stupid ghosts," he muttered. There wasn't much he could do about it right then, and he hoped the salt line would hold. Just in case, he grabbed a fireplace poker before returning to his wife. "Don't talk if you don't want to."