THEN
CROWLEY:
Open your eyes, Dean. Let’s go take a howl at that moon.
[Dean opens his completely black eyes]
HANNAH:
Heaven needs your help.
CASTIEL:
Anything.
HANNAH:
Daniel and Adina. They must be found. They must be brought home and they must be punished, for the sake of all.
[Castiel kills Daniel with his angel blade as Adina looks on in horror.]
CROWLEY:
Think of it: The King of Hell, Dean Winchester by his side. Together, we rule. Together, we create the perfect Hell. And all this that’s bloomed between us never ends.
CROWLEY:
Hey! Don’t turn your back on me!
[Dean pushes Crowley to the ground]
CROWLEY:
What do you think you’re doing?
DEAN:
Oh, whatever I want.
[Crowley meets with Sam]
CROWLEY:
You’re here for Dean. I’m here to give him to you. The little prat’s bad for business. He’s uncontrollable. Must be the Mark.
[In the bar]
SAM:
Your pal Crowley sold you out. We know how to cure demons, you remember that?
DEAN:
Little Latin, lot of blood. So, what are you gonna do? You gonna kill me?
SAM:
You are my brother, and I’m here to take you home.
[Sam pulls out the Devil’s Trap handcuffs]
DEAN:
You really think those are going to work?
[Sam hits Dean with holy water, which makes his skin sizzle and smoke. Sam slaps the handcuffs on Dean’s wrists]
SAM: Stop! It’s over! It’s over, Dean.
ACT ONE
[Inside a hospital.]
PRIEST:
Hunc sanguinem sacro, et donantibus sanguinem, debita demitto. Dolorem remitteat et voluntati de serviat.
[Priest puts the crucifix to his lips, then nods to Sam, wearing a white coat, who nods back. The priest walks out of the room.]
PRIEST:
Doctor.
SAM:
Father.
[Sam walks over and picks up a cooler, then fills it with donated blood. He drives away from the hospital in the Impala, and arrives back at the bunker. He goes down to the dungeon, where Dean is strapped to a chair in the middle of the Devil’s Trap on the floor.]
DEAN:
Really?
SAM:
For whatever it’s worth, I got your blood type.
DEAN:
Sam, I know you think you’re gonna try and fix me, but … did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want to be fixed? Just let me go live my life. I won’t bother you. What do you care?
SAM:
What do I care?
[Sam gets the holy water, splashes it on the floor as he begins chanting in Latin.]
DEAN:
You think I’m just gonna sit here like Crowley? Getting all weepy while you shoot me up? Well, screw that. I don’t want this!
SAM:
Yeah, I pretty much figured that out
DEAN:
You don’t even know if this is gonna work, do you? You know, I got a hell of a lot more running through me than just demon juice.
SAM:
Mark of Cain, got it.
DEAN:
That’s right.
[Sam has a syringe of blood in his hand as he walks closer to Dean.]
SAM:
Buckle up.
DEAN:
Sammy … You know I hate shots.
SAM:
I hate demons.
[Dean’s eyes go black a second before Sam hits him with holy water. Dean yells as his skin sizzles, and Sam plunges the needle into his arm. Dean groans as Sam empties the syringe into his arm.]
SAM:
Look, we got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make it a lot easier on yourself.
[Dean’s eyes widen as he grunts and groans, the blood already taking some effect.]
TITLE CARD
[In a car, Hannah watches Castiel, who is driving. They smile at each other. Cas is pale, doesn’t look as up to par as he normally does.]
HANNAH:
How are you holding up?
CASTIEL:
Fine.
HANNAH:
You say you’re fine, but you don’t … look fine.
CASTIEL:
It’s what the humans do. They say they’re fine. And even if I—I don’t look it, you say I look well, and that way, we avoid talking about something we can do nothing about.
HANNAH:
I’m sorry. I just can’t see how Sam Winchester could ask you to drive all this way to help with his brother, knowing your condition.
[Castiel glances at Hannah, then turns back to the road.]
HANNAH:
He doesn’t know … about how badly your borrowed grace is fading, does he?
CASTIEL:
He knows some. And he didn’t have to ask. Sam is alone in this. He’s attempting to change Dean from demon to human with a cure of sanctified blood, but … There’s no guarantee that will work. If it doesn’t, then Dean is gone and the demon must be dealt with.
HANNAH:
I just … I worry about you.
[Back in the bunker, Sam slides another needle into Dean’s arm as Dean groans in pain.]
DEAN:
For all you know, you could be killing me.
SAM:
Or … You’re just messing with me. Either way, the lore doesn’t say anything about exceptions to the cure.
[Dean chuckles]
DEAN:
“The lore.” Hunters. Men of Letters. What a load of crap it all is! Oh, you got nothing?
SAM:
You want me to debate you? This isn’t even the real you I’m talking to.
DEAN:
Oh, it’s the real me, all right. The new real me—the me that sees things for what they really are. Winchesters. Do-gooders. Fighting the natural order. Let me tell you something—guys like me, we are the natural order. It’s the way it was set up.
SAM:
Guys like me still got to do what we can.
DEAN:
Don’t be so full of yourself, Sammy. ‘Cause, see, from where I’m sitting … There ain’t much difference from what I turned into to what you already are.
SAM:
And what exactly is that supposed to mean?
DEAN:
I know what you did when you went looking for me. I know how far you went. Crowley told me all about it. So let me ask you … which one of us is really a monster? Hmm? Starting to come back to you now?
[Sam lets out a breath as he thinks back.]
FLASHBACK
[In a bar, Lester is drunk.]
LESTER:
What am I supposed to do now? It’s like my life is over. Thank you. Bitch. I should’ve seen it coming. Why doesn’t anything ever work out for me? Huh?
SAM:
Hey there.
LESTER:
Hi.
SAM:
Sounds like things have been a little rough on you lately, huh?
LESTER:
Rough? My wife kicked me to the curb.
SAM:
Oh.
LESTER:
We haven’t had sex for four months. Four. Well, not that—not that she hasn’t been having plenty… with a guy in her bowling league. Guy with tattoos. Did him right there on the kitchen table while I was at work.
SAM:
Man, that’s uh … That’s cold.
LESTER:
Now all I think of is revenge. Payback. But that’s not gonna happen.
SAM:
I wouldn’t be so sure about that. It is possible that you can have your revenge. I mean, hell, it’s possible you can have pretty much anything you want.
PRESENT DAY
DEAN:
You were trying to get a twenty on Crowley and me from any demon you could snag. But Crowley didn’t want to be found, and no one showed when you summoned. But you found a way, didn’t you, Sam?
FLASHBACK
[Sam buries a box, covering it with dirt, glancing around the crossroads. He motions to Lester.]
SAM:
All right. Stand right here. When I say so, read the words off the paper.
LESTER:
A—are you sure about this?
SAM:
Yeah, trust me.
[Sam walks behind some bushes, crouching down.]
SAM:
All right. Go ahead.
LESTER:
Okay, um … Demon esto subiectus voluntari—
SAM:
Tati! Voluntati.
LESTER:
Oh. Voluntati.
CROSSROADS DEMON:
Who summons me, and for what purpose?
[Sam stands up as Lester walks towards the demon.]
LESTER:
Kill my wife …
SAM:
Lester!
LESTER:
And my soul is yours.
SAM:
Don’t!
CROSSROADS DEMON:
Done.
SAM: No!
[The demon kisses Lester, sealing the deal.]
PRESENT DAY
DEAN:
You would have liked to have gotten there before the deal went down, but you didn’t really care about poor ol’ Lester, did you?
FLASHBACK
[Sam has the crossroads demon strung up from a tree. She’s breathing hard, like she’s in pain.]
SAM
Why don’t we try that again?
CROSSROADS DEMON:
Nobody knows where Crowley and your brother are. They’re off the radar!
[Sam pulls out a knife, then cuts into the demon’s chest. She screams in pain.]
CROSSROADS DEMON:
Kill me if you want to! That’s all I know. I got nothing for you. And you made that poor son of a bitch sell his soul.
PRESENT DAY
DEAN:
Oh, and so you know, I killed Lester myself. And that wife of his married the tattooed guy.
[Sam slams his hand down on the table.]
SAM:
I never meant—
DEAN:
Who cares what you meant?! That line that we thought was so clear between us and the things that we hunted, ain’t so clear is it? Wow. You might actually be worse than me! I mean, you took a guy at his lowest, used him, and it cost him his life and his soul. Nice work.
[Sam plunges the next needle into Dean’s neck, and he screams in pain. Sam tosses the syringe onto the table, leaning over it, pain and regret on his face.]
DEAN:
Let me ask you this, Sammy: If this doesn’t work, we both know what you got to do to me, right? You got the stomach for that, Sam?!
ACT TWO
[In Hell, a demon guard holds a young girl before the throne.]
CROWLEY:
You stand accused of high treason. Take her away.
[The demons leave, and another demon hands Crowley an envelope]
CROWLEY:
So what’s this, then? Oh, goody. Something else to sign. “Henceforth and forthwith … for the furtherance and expedience and regulation and …” Yeah. Sure.
[Crowley hands over what he just signed as another demon walks up.]
DEMON:
Majesty, supplicants await without.
CROWLEY:
Without what?
DEMON:
… Outside.
CROWLEY:
Let them wait.
DEMON:
They’ve waited a long time.
CROWLEY:
It’s Hell. You wait. It’s what you do. You’re still here.
DEMON:
I have an update on the angel Castiel. His grace seems to be fading. He’s losing strength. If one were so inclined, this would be a propitious time for one to eliminate him.
CROWLEY:
“One”?
DEMON:
You, sire.
CROWLEY:
Borrowed grace does have a puny shelf life. Castiel should have read the warning label. Follow him, and keep me informed as to his decline.
[The demon leaves, and Crowley is alone.]
FLASHBACK
[Crowley opens the door to find Dean in bed and Anne-Marie getting dressed.]
CROWLEY:
What’s going on here?
DEAN:
What’s it look like?
CROWLEY:
In my bed?! Jerk.
DEAN:
Bitch.
[Playing foosball]
CROWLEY:
Knock it down, knock it down!
DEAN:
Stop talking!
CROWLEY:
You’re bodging it!
[They lose the game. Scene changes to the bar.]
CROWLEY:
The King of Hell, Dean Winchester by his side. Together, we rule. Together, we create the perfect Hell.
PRESENT DAY
DEMON:
Great One?
[Crowley is still deep in thought.]
DEMON:
Your majesty!
[Crowley blinks, comes out of his thoughts.]
DEMON:
Are you … all right?
CROWLEY:
I was thinking of better days.
DEMON:
Yes—your sabbatical.
CROWLEY:
My what?
DEMON:
Uh, we were worried, of course. Your misadventure with the older Winchester was quite the topic of speculation. Uh, if you’ll forgive my boldness… I could now be your wingman.
CROWLEY:
Could you?
DEMON:
I, too, love to party. And I do love the ladies. And the classic rock-and-roll. Most importantly, I could debauch by your side without being a personal embarrassment. You’ll see what I’m worth!
CROWLEY:
Oh, I can see already.
[Crowley snaps his fingers and the Demon disintegrates into smoke. Crowley waves his hand in front of his face, then looks around.]
CROWLEY:
Anyone else care to comment? [On the side of a road, near an empty field.]
HANNAH:
Sorry, I … missed another turn. I have no idea where the main road is. These things—they’re so confining and primitive. It’s …It’s getting worse, isn’t it? Castiel, it’s time we stopped avoiding the obvious. You and I both know how to fix this—both you and the situation.
CASTIEL:
I will not slit some angel’s throat and steal its grace. Before you say it—we definitely are not going begging to Metatron.
HANNAH:
What about helping your friend? And sending the rogue angels back to Heaven? Your preference to die for your principles, it’s very noble, but it is meaningless.
CASTIEL:
Then you carry on.
HANNAH:
I’m not enough!
CASTIEL:
Sometimes enough is whatever you have.
[Hannah nods. Castiel stumbles back, and Hannah reaches down to take hold of his wrist. Cas’ phone begins to ring.]
CASTIEL:
Sam?
[In the bunker, Sam steps out of the room where Dean is chained to the chair, into the hallway.]
SAM:
Cas. Hey, are you still coming?
CASTIEL:
I’m a few hours away. Is the treatment working?
SAM:
No, not very well. Look, it—it’s not like it was with Crowley. Dean is in pain. I mean, he’s in bad pain. It’s like he’s barely holding on. Cas… I might be killing him.
CASTIEL:
It might be.
SAM:
So … what? Should I stop?
CASTIEL:
And do what? He’s not possessed. Exorcism is out of the question. The ritual of purified blood is the only treatment I know.
SAM:
Cas, did you not hear what I just said? I could be killing my brother.
CASTIEL:
Sam, he’s not your brother. At least, not now. You have to be prepared for—
SAM:
Killing my brother.
CASTIEL:
I’ll be there as soon as I can.
SAM:
Yeah, all right. I’ll, uh … I’ll leave the entry unlocked for you. Just … hurry.
[Sam hangs up the phone, turning around to see Dean exactly where he left him, but completely still. Sam walks over and slaps Dean across the face.]
SAM:
Hey! Hey! DEAN! Come on! Come back.
[Dean’s voice is only a whisper.]
DEAN:
No.
SAM:
Come back to me. You there? Hey! Dean, you okay?
DEAN:
Yeah, if you … consider drowning in your own sweat while your blood boils “okay.”
[Dean gives a weak cough, and Sam stands up.]
SAM:
Look, I can’t stop doing this.
DEAN:
Sure you can. You just stop! There’s no point in trying to bring your brother back now.
SAM:
Oh, I will bring him back
DEAN:
In fact, your uh… guilt-ridden, weight-of-the-world bro has been M.I.A. for quite some time now. But I’m loving the new model: Lean, mean, Dean.
SAM:
Right.
DEAN:
You notice I tried to get as far away from you as possible? Away from your whining, your complaining. I chose the King of Hell over you! Maybe I was just … tired of babysitting you. Or always having to yank your lame ass out of the fire since …
[Dean laughs.]
DEAN:
Forever. Or maybe … Maybe it was the fact that my mother would still be alive if it wasn’t for you. That your very existence sucked the life out of my life!
SAM:
This isn’t my brother talking.
DEAN:
You never had a brother! Just an excuse for not manning up. But guess what: I quit.
SAM:
No. No, you don’t. You don’t get to quit. We don’t get to quit in this family! This family is all we have ever had!
DEAN:
Well, then, we got nothin’.
SAM:
Would you say that to Dad?
DEAN:
Dad? Oh, there’s a prize. There’s a man who brainwashed us into wasting our lives fighting his losing battle!
[Sam turns away and prepares the next syringe.]
DEAN:
Oh. Ooh. Is this you manning up?
SAM:
This is me yanking your lame ass out of the fire.
[Sam jabs the needle into Dean’s arm, filling his veins with the purified blood.]
SAM:
You’re welcome.
[Sam walks out of the room, leaving Dean gasping in pain behind him.]
ACT THREE
[In Hell, a demon in chains is standing before the throne.]
CROWLEY:
You have coerced others into aligning with Abaddon. You’ve spread rumors and fostered doubt as to the competence and authority to the crown. Guilty of treason. The sentence is death.
[Another demon stabs the one in handcuffs, and he lights up from the inside as he dies.]
CROWLEY:
Anyone else hungry to betray me? Next.
[Another demon is brought before Crowley.]
CROWLEY:
You’re guilty of … something. Which I won’t tolerate. Whatever it was. You are condemned to—
[Another demon rushes in, standing between the prisoner and Crowley.]
DEMON:
Stop! Stop!
CROWLEY:
“Stop”?
DEMON:
You cannot do this.
CROWLEY:
Weren’t you watching? Of course I can. I just did.
DEMON:
This is your idea of ruling?
CROWLEY:
Yes.
DEMON:
We’ve killed and tortured for you. Stolen souls. Destroyed lives. Tempted and tormented with distinction. And for all this, what’s our reward? A slap in the face.
[He reaches into his pockets, lifting something in each hand, and the demons gathered around step back, murmuring amongst themselves.]
DEMON:
You disappear. Binge on blood. Approach the edge of becoming human. And the salt in the wound? You run off with your boy toy, Dean Winchester. And now he’s running amok and you can’t control him or the kingdom!
[Demons in the background are asking what he’s doing, what does he have in his hands.]
DEMON:
You’ve squandered our loyalty.
CROWLEY:
What will you do?
DEMON:
Not live in the Hell you’ve made.
[He opens the bottle in his hand, pouring the contents over his clothes. A demon behind him exclaims that it’s Holy Oil, and the demons try to get further away. The demon flicks a lighter on, and Crowley’s eyes widen when he brings the lighter to his chest, setting himself on fire. The demons tell each other to “Get back!” as the demon burns in Holy Fire before the throne.]
CROWLEY:
Did not see that coming. Huh.
[Cas and Hannah are stopped at an old gas station. Cas is looking even worse, pale with dark circles under his eyes.]
CASTIEL:
Um, Hannah. You know, this—this road we’re on… It—it’s dangerous.
HANNAH:
All right.
CASTIEL:
Um… We can’t afford to lose our way.
HANNAH:
I know that. I’m sorry about the map.
CASTIEL:
No detours of any kind.
HANNAH:
Castiel, if these are metaphors and you’re attempting another human communication … It isn’t working.
CASTIEL:
I’m just trying to say this mission is everything.
HANNAH:
I know that.
CASTIEL:
Getting to Dean and hunting these rogues … I—I’m not at full capacity, so I … we n-need total focus.
HANNAH:
Like a laser. Got it.
CASTIEL:
Just … I’ve been around humans for long enough to see how easily distractions occur.
HANNAH: “Distractions.”
CASTIEL:
Emotions, feelings … They’re dangerous temptations.
HANNAH:
How very Biblical, Castiel.
CASTIEL:
I don’t mean to be unkind.
HANNAH:
You don’t need to be kind.
CASTIEL:
I just … I’m trying to keep our priorities clear.
HANNAH:
Not to worry, then. I’m very clear on my priorities. And yours.
[Hannah goes inside the gas station. She looks around, noticing how quiet it is.]
HANNAH:
Hello?
[She notices the overturned coffee cup on the counter. Stepping closer, she sees a man behind the counter, on the floor, his eyes burned out. Outside, Cas finishes filling up the car, then makes his way inside, stopping just inside the door. Adina is standing there, her angel blade pressed against Hannah’s throat.]
ADINA:
Hey there.
[Castiel goes to step closer, and Adina tightens her grip, brings the blade closer to Hannah’s throat.]
ADINA:
I’ve been tracking you for days. You will be punished for what you did.
CASTIEL:
Daniel’s death … That was unintentional, Adina. I feel you know this.
ADINA:
“Unintentional”? You killed him!
[Adina throws Hannah into a shelf behind her and lunges for Castiel. He brings his angel blade down his arm.]
ADINA:
Seriously?
[Castiel swings weakly at her, and she easily blocks it. She punches him, and he falls onto a shelf, then turns around.]
CASTIEL:
Just … kill me. But let her go.
HANNAH:
Stop.
ADINA:
“Stop.” “Kill me.” I mean, so many suggestions, I don’t know what to do. I know—I will kill you, Castiel. But very, very slowly so your—your honeybunch can watch. Sound good?
[Adina kicks Castiel through the glass door, then walks through it. Hannah makes it to her feet, watching as Adina punches Castiel, who cannot get up from where he’s lying on the ground.]
[In the bunker, Sam goes to Dean’s room, looking around. He walks over and fins a slice of pie, flips over a page in a notepad to see pictures of Dean and Mary, Mary and John, Sam, Dean, and Bobby, and two pictures of Sam and Dean. Sam has tears in his eyes as he looks at the pictures of himself and his brother, then sighs as he drops the pictures back where he found them, walking from the room.]
[Cas is lying on the ground, bleeding, watching blurry feet walking towards him. He looks up to see Crowley standing there.]
CROWLEY:
Hey, champ. Look at you. Talk about roadkill.
[In the bunker, Sam walks back into the dungeon to find the chair Dean has been sitting in …
Empty.]
ACT FOUR
[Hannah is bruised and bloody, and she screams as Adina draws the angel blade just under her neck.]
ADINA:
Attagirl, Hannah. Suffer. Just like my Daniel suffered before you killed him.
HANNAH:
Daniel’s death isn’t on my head. It’s on yours!
ADINA:
We did nothing. We wanted nothing but to be left alone.
HANNAH:
You killed an angel. You had to answer for it!
ADINA:
An angel would have hauled us back to that Heaven of yours.
[Adina pulls Hannah’s head back, placing the blade right under Hannah’s chin.]
ADINA:
You should have left us alone.
CROWLEY:
And that will do.
[Adina stands up, walking towards Crowley. Her eyes grow wide when he pulls out an angel blade, slicing it across her throat before she can say a word. Adina stands there as her grace leaks out through the cut, and Crowley catches it in a vial. Then, he stabs Adina through the heart.]
CROWLEY:
Why can’t you people just sit on clouds and play on harps like you’re supposed to?
[Crowley lets Adina’s body fall, then puts the top on his vial, walking out as Hannah watches.]
[In the bunker, Sam has his back to the wall, a knife in his hand. He hears a door open, and he makes his way down the hall. Dean is walking through the bunker, opening doors, seemingly looking for Sam. Sam opens a drawer and grabs a set of keys. Dean is in the kitchen and grabs a hammer.]
DEAN:
Come on, Sammy! Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time?
[Back at the station, Crowley has the grace near Castiel’s mouth, but Cas leans away, lifting a hand to push Crowley away.]
CROWLEY:
Don’t be an idiot. Yes, it’s hers, but she was killing your girlfriend. Your hands are clean. As much as it pains me to say this … You’re useless to me dead.
[The grace goes in Cas’ mouth, and lights up his body. Hannah comes to the door, just in time to see Cas stand up, injuries healed.]
CROWLEY:
You owe me.
CASTIEL:
Why did you help me?
CROWLEY:
Purely business. Since you’re five miles away from the Winchester’s Clubhouse, I can only surmise that you’re headed there. And that Dean has become a handful. Having him as a demon has caused me nothing but grief. Fix the problem.
CASTIEL:
You realize, worst come to worst … That means killing him.
CROWLEY:
I’m not sentimental.
[Crowley walks away, and Hannah comes to stand by Castiel.]
[In the bunker, Sam uses the keys to unlock the door to the control room. Dean comes walking down a hall. He kicks a door in, the door to his bedroom. Sam flips a switch and the lights suddenly shut off, leaving red lights flashing as an alarm begins to sound.]
DEAN:
Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing: I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!
[Dean hears a clatter in the distance and goes walking down the hall.]
DEAN:
Sammy! You’re just making this worse for yourself, man! Oh, by the way, you can, uh… blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human… Well. The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? Well, I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still.
[Dean opens the drawer, sees that the keys are missing. He walks off in the direction Sam had been. Inside the control room, Dean flips the switch, turning the power back on.]
DEAN:
Yeah, that’s more like it.
[Sam rushes over and pulls the door shut, locking it, locking Dean inside. Sam throws the keys on the ground, standing at the door with the knife in his hand.]
DEAN:
That’s your big move?
SAM:
Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close, okay? I know you’re still in there somewhere. Just let me finish the treatments.
[No answer comes from inside the room.]
SAM:
Dean?
[Sam jumps back as the door begins to splinter. He watches as the door begins to break, from the hammer Dean is wielding.]
DEAN:
You act like I want to be cured!
[Dean continues using the hammer, until he can look through the door at Sam]
DEAN:
Personally, I like the disease.
SAM:
Dean, stop that! Look, I don’t want to use this blade on you!
DEAN:
That sucks for you, doesn’t it? ‘Cause you really mean that!
SAM:
Look, if you come out of that room, I won’t have a choice!
DEAN:
Sure you will! And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see … Here’s the thing: I’m lucky. Oh, hell, I’m blessed! ‘Cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you? Ain’t no choice at all.
[As Dean breaks down the door, Sam goes running down the hall. Dean pushes a hand through his hair, then walks after his brother.]
DEAN:
Sammy?
[Dean comes walking down the hall, still holding the hammer.]
DEAN:
Come on, Sammy! Let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!
[Sam is breathing hard, back up against the wall. He chances a look down the hall, but finds it empty. He turns back around, ducking just in time, as Dean swings the hammer at his head, instead lodging it into the wall. Sam reacts on instinct, pushing his knife against Dean’s throat. Dean smiles.]
DEAN:
Well … Look at you. Do it. It’s all you.
[Sam lets the knife fall, and Dean smiles as his eyes go black. He takes a step towards Sam, grunting when arms suddenly come around him.]
CASTIEL:
It’s over.
[Cas’ eyes begin to glow blue with his grace.]
CASTIEL:
Dean, it’s over.
[Dean begins to yell, and Cas just holds him.]
CASTIEL:
It’s over.
[Dean is once again strapped to the chair, and Sam pulls a needle from his arm. There are needle marks on Dean’s arm now, close by the Mark of Cain. Dean is slumped over, head hanging.]
SAM:
What the hell are we doing to him, Cas? I mean, even after I gave him all that blood, he still said he didn’t want to be cured, that he didn’t want to be human.
CASTIEL:
Well… I see his point. You know, only humans can feel real joy, but … also such profound pain. This is easier.
[Dean wakes up, and his eyes are black. The black dissipates, and Sam unscrews the flask in his hand. Dean looks up to Sam and Cas, groaning and letting out a breath. He looks around, uncertain, while Sam and Cas watch him carefully.]
DEAN:
You look worried, fellas.
[Sam splashes holy water on Dean’s face, and Dean looks up at him when nothing happens. Sam smiles.]
SAM:
Welcome back, Dean.
ACT FOUR
[Castiel is looking at the book of Demonic Possession. He picks up the Practitioners Guide to Exorcism and flips through it. He sets the book down when Sam walks in.]
SAM:
Hey.
CASTIEL:
How’s he doing?
SAM:
He’s uh … He’s still a little out of it, but better, I think. I mean, I think this whole thing—the blood cure, and the … all of it—really wrecked him, you know?
CASTIEL:
Yeah.
SAM:
On the plus side, he’s hungry again, so I’m just going to go pick him up a big ol’ bag of crap food and stuff it in his face myself. You mind keeping an eye?
CASTIEL:
Yeah. Sam?
SAM:
Yeah?
CASTIEL:
You realize one problem is solved, but one still remains. Dean is no longer a demon, that’s true. But the Mark of Cain… that, he still has. And sooner or later, that’s going to be an issue.
SAM:
You know what, Cas? I’m beat, man. One battle at a time, you know? So I’m just gonna go grab my brother some cholesterol. And then, I’m gonna get drunk.
[In his room, Dean is looking through his pictures. A knock sounds at his door.]
DEAN:
Yeah.
[Cas opens the door.]
CASTIEL:
You look terrible.
[Dean laughs.]
DEAN:
You know, it wouldn’t kill you to lie every now and again.
CASTIEL:
No, it wouldn’t kill me. I just … You …
DEAN:
Forget it. Well, you, on the other hand, you… Looking good. So… Are you back?
CASTIEL:
At least temporarily. It’s a long story. Crowley, stolen grace. There’s a female outside in the car.
[Dean stares at him, and Cas shakes his head.]
CASTIEL:
Another time.
DEAN:
Well, thank you for, um… Stepping in when you did.
[Cas nods]
DEAN:
What did Sam say? Does he want a divorce?
CASTIEL:
I’m sure Sam knows that whatever you said or what you did, it wasn’t really you. It certainly wasn’t all you.
DEAN:
I tried to kill him, Cas.
CASTIEL:
Dean. You two have been through so much. Look, you’re brothers. It’d take a lot more than trying to kill Sam with a hammer to make him want to walk away.
DEAN:
You realize how screwed up our lives are that that even makes sense?
[Cas laughs.]
DEAN:
I’m glad you’re here, man.
[Cas starts to leave, then turns back.]
CASTIEL:
Hey, maybe you should um … take some time before you get back to work. Allow yourself to heal. It’s, uh … I don’t know. The timing might be right. Heaven and Hell—they seem reasonably back in order. It’s quiet out there.
[Tulsa, Oklahoma. Classical music plays in the background as a redhead sits in front of a fire, reading a book. Something drips onto her arm. It’s blood. Two men are pinned to the ceiling above her, dead and bleeding. She wipes the blood away, then smiles.]
THE END
Source : SuperWiki