"I'm tired of this job, this life, this weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it."

Whew. Such an emotional wallop this episode packs!

Then.

Sam gets premonitions of people about to die, and John admits he knows the truth about Sam and the children like him, but opts not to share this information with the viewing audience at large. Instead he whispers his final words before shuffling off his mortal coil into the ear of his post-coma older son Dean, who has resolutely kept this secret to himself all season since, struggling badly to cope with this extra burden on top of all the other emotional baggage he carries around with him.

Now.

In very slow motion complete with distorted sound effects we see Dean striding purposefully down a corridor, pulling out a gun, checking the clip and loading it. It's disturbingly sexy. Looking wearily grim but resolute, he enters a room of what looks like a doctor's surgery or health centre, where a frightened young man is tied to a chair. "I swear, it's not in me," the young man cries, panic-stricken. Nearby, a blonde nurse panics, while an older black man wonders if maybe the young man is telling the truth. "It's not him, not any more," Dean insists. The young man continues to plead for his life, while a female doctor stutters that she has no way of knowing for sure. "I got no choice," says Dean, lip curling and twitching with self-loathing as he pulls the trigger.

Flash! Sam wakes up on the floor of a motel, anxious and gasping. This is what happens if he has a vision when Dean isn't around to catch him. A moment later, Dean enters the room, munching on chocolate and carrying a six-pack of beer. If the labelling of the beer is anything to go by, they are in Texas. "Sam?"

Titles.

The Impala – either early morning or evening, judging by the dusky half-light. Since we just saw Dean arriving at the motel with an armful of beer, I'm going to go with evening. Dean drives, as usual, because other than that incident with Andy and the mind control no one but Dean has driven that car all season, while Sam uses his Palm Pilot to hook into GPS, which is a tiny touch I just adore and must be so handy, with all the obscure little towns they travel to. There are only two towns in the US named Rivergrove, Sam says, sounding completely drained, as he generally does post-vision. He's discerned that the one they want is the one in Oregon, because of a picture of Crater Lake he saw on the wall in his vision.

The brothers talk through the details of Sam's vision, and both are pretty snippy about the whole thing, since the action revolved around Dean shooting someone for reasons unknown. Sam, who no doubt has a killer migraine, simply doesn't know what to think about this, and in his current state can't quite manage to be tactful about it. His visions have always revolved around someone in peril that he has to save – at least, that's how he's always interpreted them. The only real clue he can extract from this one was that in it Dean had seemed convinced that the man had something in him.

"Well, all your weirdo visions are always tied to the yellow-eyed demon, somehow," Dean points out, asking if there was any black smoke or if they tried to exorcise the man. The answer is no. Dean is defensively certain he must have had a good reason – the past tense there is his, although it refers to a future event that may or may not happen, which is a little confusing.

"Sure hope so," says Sam, all non-committal, which isn't exactly the vote of confidence in his non-murderous nature that Dean was looking for there.

"What does that mean?" Dean snits. "I mean, I'm not going to waste an innocent man."

Sam says nothing, evidently unconvinced. "I wouldn't!" Dean protests, whereupon Sam snaps that he never said he would.

"Fine." "Fine," they snip at each other a few times before agreeing – still snippily – that they need to get there and work out what's going on before they draw any actual conclusions.

I'm not sure where Sam's apparent lack of trust in Dean comes from in this scene. Yes, Dean has been on edge, erratic and a little trigger-happy for quite a bit of this season, but only where something he perceives as evil or to be facilitating evil is concerned, and he has never given his brother any reason to believe he would kill an innocent person, never. And yet Sam really doesn't sound sure, and his only basis for that lies in a vision that came to him entirely devoid of any context.

Rivergrove, Oregon. Day. As the Impala rolls into town, everything looks perfectly normal in every way, the town bustling with average people going about their average daily routine. Dean finds a suitable place to park, and the brothers scan the street for anything potentially clue-like. Sam recognises the black man from his vision, sitting idly messing about with a fishing tackle, and they head over to talk to him.

"Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, US Marshals." ZZ Top. Dean really is shameless. I find myself wondering now whether the boys managed somehow to liberate their hoard of fake IDs from police custody back in The Usual Suspects, or if they've had to start again from scratch.

The Marshal routine – just wanting to ask questions, he's not in any trouble – works pretty well, tying in with the description Sam is able to give of the man from his vision. But they really aren't getting anywhere until Dean spots a tattoo on the man's arm and, recognising it as a marine thing, addresses him as 'master sergeant', adding that his dad had been a corporal and thus gaining the man's grudging respect. The Sarge now admits that he does know of a young man fitting that description, one Duane Tanner, who lives with his family in town – but he's a good kid, keeps his nose clean, Sarge is at pains to add.

They thank him and move on. On the other side of the street, Sam comes to a dead halt on noticing the word 'Croatoan' carved into a tree trunk. It means nothing to me, American history not being my forte, but Sam clearly knows the story well. Dean is as clueless as me until Sam frustratedly jogs his memory, not being one to pass up on an opportunity to rag on his brother's disinterest in education. And then between the two of them they fill me in on the story of Roanoke, which was one of the first English colonies in America in the late 1500s. The entire colony vanished overnight without a trace, leaving behind nothing but a single word carved into a tree – 'croatoan' – and no one ever managed to work out what happened.

Who says TV isn't educational?

The brothers are decidedly freaked out by the possibility that the same thing could be happening here, or about to happen here, and have no idea where to even begin to imagine what could cause something like that, beyond the fact that all Sam's 'weirdo visions', as Dean puts it, have always been tied to the yellow-eyed demon somehow.

That's the second time in this episode Dean has referred to Sam's visions as 'weirdo', where in the past he's been resolutely matter-of-fact about them. In Simon Said, Sam was affronted when Dean let slip that he might secretly consider Sam a freak for having the visions, but he doesn't react to this at all. There's no edge to it, here – the comments seem more in line with the names Dean has always tossed at Sam as terms of big brotherly affection, rather than being derogatory about the visions. Name-calling here is used as a sign that he is taking the visions for granted as just another part of who Sam is – the image he very much wants to portray to his brother – rather than an indication that they freak him out.

I would like to note, however, that not all of Sam's visions have been directly tied to the yellow-eyed demon. The only connection the vision in Home had to the Demon was that it had once visited the house, over two decades earlier, which is a tenuous link at best.

The boys agree that maybe they should get help, rather than trying to deal with this one on their own. Both Bobby and Ellen are mentioned as possible sources of this help, and I'm happy with the reference to Bobby, as one of their own old contacts rather than someone new and untested in their lives, and intrigued by the ready suggestion of Ellen after they parted on fairly bad terms with her in No Exit. There were other contacts mentioned back in season one who are still alive as far as we know, but are never mentioned any more, maybe because they were simply contacts rather than being considered friends. Or maybe because the writers have forgotten about them.

However, this grand plan of calling in the demon-hunting troops is shot down at once, as neither brother can get a signal on his cell phone, and the payphone they try is also stone dead.

DEAN: "I'll tell you one thing. If I was going to massacre a town, that'd be my first step."

Put a lot of thought into that already, have we, Dean? *G*

I love that open-neck shirt Dean is wearing. Oh yes. It's ever so fetching.

The Tanner household. 'Born to fish, forced to work' says a sign hanging on the wall outside. Is everyone in Oregon obsessed with fishing, or just the people in this town? There's a horseshoe nailed to the wall just above it as a good luck charm. Sad to say, we will soon learn that this wasn't too effective.

A smiley, perky teenage boy answers the door. This is Duane Tanner's younger brother, Jake, and he happily informs the supposed US Marshals that his brother is away on a fishing trip and he has no idea when he will be back. Daddy Tanner appears and backs up this story, and they are both very smiley and very helpful. The boys turn to leave.

DEAN: "That was kinda creepy, right? Little too Stepford?"
SAM: "Big time."

The use of angles in the filming of this episode is stunning. This shot is gorgeous, of the brothers standing on the steps, filmed from a low angle.

The brothers wander around to the back of the house to be nosy. Peering through the kitchen window, they see Mrs Tanner bound and gagged and weeping, while her husband slices open their son's arm and drips his blood into a gash on her shoulder. Both father and son are horribly nonchalant about all this, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to be doing, and it's incredibly creepy.

Dean kicks the door down and the brothers race in, guns at the ready, Sam in the lead. Mr Tanner goes totally psycho at this point and rushes at him, menacingly waving a large kitchen knife. Dean shoots him dead on the spot. Clearly homicidal maniac rushing at his brother and himself with a knife? That one's a no-brainer. No choice but to take instant, lethal action to remove the threat. Dean has the instincts of a soldier or cop in situations like this.

Young Jake, meanwhile, does a runner, diving out through the window and racing off into the woods. Sam tracks his every step with the gun, but can't bring himself to shoot. Once the boy is out of sight, Sam looks conflicted – caught between two evils, unable to decide whether he was right or wrong not to fire. Sam doesn't have that instinct, always stops to second-guess both himself and the situation he's in, unwilling to make that call.

Rivergrove Community Clinic. The Impala pulls up outside, and Sam ushers a badly shaken Mrs Tanner inside, while Dean heads for the trunk. Around them, the people of Rivergrove still appear to be going about their average daily lives.

The clinic is amazingly empty. I know this is meant to be a very small town, but in my experience doctor's surgeries are generally bursting at the seams. It's probably just as well this one isn't doing the briskest trade ever, since it seems to only have two staff members – Nurse Pam and Doctor Lee, as seen in Sam's vision. They both recognise Mrs Tanner by sight. This really is a small town with a close community, where everybody knows everybody else. That makes what is to come so much worse.

While Nurse Pam takes Mrs Tanner on through to the surgery, Doctor Lee is shocked by Dean's arrival, with Mr Tanner's blanket-wrapped body slung over his shoulders.

DOCTOR: "Was he attacked too?"
DEAN: "Uh, no, actually, he did the attacking and then he got himself shot."

The Doctor buys the US Marshal line without question – or any need to fish out the purloined badge, since Dean's hands are a bit full right now, what with the very heavy dead guy he's carrying – and shows Dean where to stow the corpse.

Nurse Pam and Doctor Lee both react with shock and disbelief to Mrs Tanner's story of being tied and beaten by her husband and son.

MRS TANNER: "I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son, and the next…they had the devil in them."

Now that sounds like demonic possession of some kind to Sam and Dean's way of thinking. They retreat into the hallway for a private consultation around the subject, agreeing that if it is possession there could be more and that they have no way of knowing how many. "Course, that's one way to wipe out a town," Dean glumly notes. "You take it from the inside."

Sam isn't so sure, since there was no demon smoke or any of the other usual signs with Mr Tanner. Dean doesn't really care, focusing on the fact that something clearly turned the man into a monster, and pointing out that there would be one less to worry about if Sam had taken care of the other one when he had the chance.

So far this episode they are both proving very good at hitting one another's sensitive spots. This is a theme that will continue – both vision and case have got them very much on edge. "I'm sorry, all right. I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid," Sam snaps, defensively.

"No, it was an it," Dean insists. "Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam."

And they are both right, and they are both wrong. Doctor Lee wanders out to try to find out what the hell is going on, but the brothers aren't able to tell her much, since they don't know themselves. The Tanners, apparently, are her next-door neighbours, and she's taking all this rather badly, pointing out that they need the county sheriff and the coroner. Official processes to observe. She's a 'civilian' clinging to what she knows; they are the 'experts' trying to protect her from the truth as far as they possibly can.

The phones are down, Sam points out. Doctor Lee has already discovered that for herself, but presumes they must have a police radio in their car, being marshals, and all. Sam smoothly lies that of course they do, but it crapped out just like everything else. They are cut off from all sources of possible aid. It kind of makes you wonder if the outside world has noticed yet, or how long it would take before they did.

The nearest town is Sidewinder, about forty miles away, the doctor replies when Dean asks. He nods, thinking hard, and says that he'll head on down there and try to find some help, with Sam sticking around to keep them all safe.

"Safe from what?" Doctor Lee wants to know, not unreasonably.

"We'll get back to you on that," is Dean's parting shot. If they can possibly prevent people from learning the truth, that's what they always prefer. This vagueness probably isn't of much comfort to Doctor Lee, but Dean sounds reassuringly confident as he says it, which probably is. Sam's anxiety is fairly apparent, though, and probably not helping much.

As Dean drives away from the medical centre, the people of Rivergrove dotted around the street no longer seem to be busying themselves about their average daily lives. They are just standing around, watching him go.

Somewhere along the road, the Impala comes to a stop behind an abandoned car. There are bullet holes in the windscreen, all the windows are shattered, and the seats inside are drenched with blood, including a baby seat in the back. Having the car empty and bloody like this is just so much more horrific than having the bodies left in there. Shotgun in hand, not willing to take any chances, Dean gets out of the Impala to investigate. There's a blood-covered knife lying on the road alongside the car, and he automatically picks it up to have a look.

Viewers instantly start hollering at the TV. "Fingerprints, Dean! Fingerprints!" Clearly, the lessons of The Usual Suspects have not been learned. But being an idiot at times does not make Dean any less endearing – more so, if anything.

Back at the medical centre, Sam stands and stares disconsolately at the corpse of Mr Tanner while Doctor Lee studies his blood work. Apparently, he'd been suffering from some kind of viral infection, although the doctor has never heard of one that would cause someone to turn so psychotically homicidal – and she's especially never heard of any kind of virus that left traces of sulphur in the blood.

Sam's eyes harden, recognising a confirmation of demonic presence of some kind when he hears it.

Dean and the Impala continue their journey out of town, only to reach a dead end in the form of a heavily manned, heavily fortified roadblock. Young Jake Tanner, smirking triumphantly, is among the crowd currently pointing shotguns at him as he slows to a halt and ponders his next move. When one of the men comes over to talk, Dean plays it cool at first, asking what's up, and the man plays it just as cool, explaining that there's a quarantine in force, order of the sheriff, and no, the sheriff isn't there right now.

MAN: "Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little."
DEAN: "Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, so, sorry."

Heh. The man is no oil painting, in fact. He repeats his request – or order – for Dean to get out of the car, still keeping things deceptively light, and Dean goes along with the pretence of normality, right up to the moment he pulls the car into sharp reverse. A spot of very nifty stunt driving follows as he spins the car around, the man still clinging on to the side of it, with the roadblock contingent all shooting madly now. Viewers fear for the pristine bodywork of the Impala, and are relieved to see that the roadblock contingent are all really bad shots even at such close range, as none of them seem able to hit their intended target. The clinging man finally releases his death grip and falls by the wayside, and the Impala speeds away, heading back into town, all hope of escape and finding help now lost.

Back at the medical centre, the badly shaken Mrs Tanner struggles to understand what she is being told about the infection her husband and, presumably, son appear to have – or to have had, in the case of the late Mr Tanner. Doctor Lee asks if Mrs Tanner came into direct contact with their blood during the attack, and viewers know that she definitely did. Sam does too, having witnessed that part of the attack. Doctor Lee asks for permission to take a blood sample. Mrs Tanner sighs and nods, and reaches out…and abruptly goes completely wild, letting out an inhuman screech, thumping the doctor, tossing Sam across the room into a nearby cabinet – which, hey! Getting tossed is Dean's thing – and then lunging at him with a knife. Sam grabs a handy nearby fire extinguisher and lays her out with it.

Maybe Sam was unarmed at that moment, although you wouldn't have thought so in the circumstances. Maybe he just didn't think to reach for his gun, or went with his overriding gut instinct to preserve life where possible, unable to bring himself to draw on and shoot someone that still looks so normal, no matter how she might be behaving and no matter what she seems to have turned into. But by simply incapacitating a woman he now knows to be infected and extremely dangerous, he's passing the problem of what to ultimately do with her on to someone else, rather than being willing to make such a hard decision himself. That isn't a pre-meditated thing, and not a choice he's even conscious of making – it's certainly the best option from the point of view of what's good for Sam, and Dean would agree with that – but it's still a subconscious choice he's making to pass the buck. Sam just isn't a killer, although he could yet be driven to that end in the right circumstances, just as Dean has been, since, frequently for Sam's sake, Dean sometimes has to be.

Dean continues driving around town, presumably heading back to the medical centre, or maybe still searching for a way out of town, or simply for anyone sane enough to be of any help at this stage. He runs into the Sarge from earlier, one of the men from Sam's vision, who levels a rifle at him, panic-stricken, bellowing for him to get out of the car. At gunpoint, Dean has no choice but to acquiesce, but as he slowly steps out of the car he pulls a handgun and aims in an ultra-fast draw.

A rapid-fire round of yelling at one another follows. "Put it down!" "Put it down!" "Put it down!" "Are you one of them?" "No, are you?" "No! You could be lying." "So could you!"

"All right." Dean ends the deadlock. "We could do this all day, all right, let's just take it easy before we kill each other."

Sarge – his name is Mark Vargo, apparently, but I'm not sure we ever get the surname on-screen, so I'll just stick with Sarge – slowly lowers the rifle, but remains wary and suspicious, only too aware of the escalating madness all about town.

SARGE: "My neighbour…Mr Rogers…"
DEAN: "You got a neighbour named Mr Rogers?"
SARGE: "Not any more."

Heh. Seems this Mr Rogers came at the Sarge with a hatchet and had to be 'put down'. Sarge is a military man, trained to do whatever has to be done in extreme circumstances, just as Dean is conditioned to do, just as Sam has never yet had to.

Dean explains that he's heading back to the medical centre, as there are still a few people left, hiding out there. Sarge prefers the idea of getting out of town until Dean tells him he won't be able to, as the town is completely cut off. They each get into the car, Sarge pulling out a handgun to keep trained on Dean just as Dean keeps his own gun levelled on the man.

DEAN: "Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive."

At the medical centre, Doctor Lee studies more blood work, while Nurse Pam panics that they are all going to go crazy and die. Doctor Lee tries to keep her calm, reassuring her that the Marshal is bringing help. Sam, lurking disconsolately nearby, glances up at those words, but doesn't shatter her illusions by copping to the fake ID. Cabin fever running high, Pam heads for the door, wanting to go and look for her boyfriend, and Sam follows to prevent her leaving, knowing that the only way to keep her safe is to keep her in inside.

"Help is coming," he assures her in a classic display of impeccable timing, as the Impala can be heard pulling up outside just at that moment.

"Sammy, open up," Dean yells, in very un-Marshal-like fashion. Dean plus one man is hardly the cavalry the besieged occupants of the medical centre were hoping for. And, I have to say, that flimsy little glass door is hardly likely to provide much protection if the infected townspeople decide to make a serious assault on the place. Shouldn't they stack furniture up against it or something, try to make it look like they are properly under siege? Not that the infected townsfolk are showing any signs of mounting such an assault, it has to be said, apparently happy to just lurk around outside and let them come and go!

Explaining about the roadblock, Dean sends the Sarge on in to talk to the doctor while he has a private word with Sam.

DEAN: "I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man, I mean Sarge is the only sane person I could find."

Sam explains Doctor Lee's working theory that they are dealing with a virus, adding his own hypothesis to the mix, that the infected are trying to infect others by blood-to-blood contact, but the best bit of all – it leaves traces of sulphur in the blood.

DEAN: "A demonic virus?"
SAM: "Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare. Least it explains why I've been having visions."
DEAN: "It's like a biblical plague."

I love the way he delivers that line, disbelief mingling with outrage and just the tiniest hint of being overwhelmed.

"You don't know how right you are, Dean," says Sam. He's been going through John's journal, as if they don't know the whole darn thing off by heart by now, and found references to the Roanoke colony. In that case, Dean should definitely have known about it earlier, since he's read through that journal at least as often as Sam. Anyway, Sam explains that John had had a theory about Croatoan, believing it was the name of a demon – a demon of plague and pestilence.

"Well, that's terrific." Dean rolls his eyes and wonders why here, why now. They can't guess, but Sam, ever the pessimist, wonders further just how far this thing could spread, which is a nice, depressing thought, agitating that they need to get out of there, need to warn people.

Easier said than done, I'm afraid. But before Dean can make that point, Sarge yells from the other room, having just heard about the infected Mrs Tanner. Sam quickly brings Dean up to speed on that point as they hurry on over.

Sarge boldly declares that they have to end this, they can't just leave her locked away – his neighbours were strong, and she will be too. She'll eventually be able to break out and attack them all, is the clear implication. He's talking Dean's language, and Dean responds in like fashion, painting a mask of indifference onto his face as he pulls out his gun and confidently strides forward.

But first, they all take time to grill Doctor Lee on the possibility of treatment or cure. Curing the infection is the first and best option, with extermination the last resort. But Doctor Lee stammers and stutters, way out of her depth and sinking fast. She doesn't even know what this is, never mind how to cure it. She's a small town doctor, not an expert on demonic germ warfare. There isn't going to be any cure for this, and the longer they wait, the more lives will be endangered. Pam pleads for Mrs Tanner's life, while Sarge psychs himself up for what has to be done.

Sam gets the call on opening the door, while the very tense Dean and Sarge hold their guns at the ready. There's not even a hint of a suggestion that Sam should also be armed for this, highlighting again the clear distinction between the brothers. Dean does the dirty work of this nature, so that Sam doesn't have to, preserving what innocence he can for his brother.

Cowering in a corner of the room she's been locked into, Mrs Tanner tremulously addresses Sarge by name, asking what he's doing. She sounds dishearteningly normal, frightened and confused rather than obviously, violently insane. But the other infected people have all sounded perfectly normal right up to the moment they flipped out, have sounded perfectly normal even while behaving in insane ways, so the appearance and sound of normality is not a reliable measure of sanity. That's part of what's so chilling. If they were all completely whacked out and violent all the time, it would be so much easier to deal with the need to put them down.

The file boxes stacked up on the floor around Mrs Tanner are not in any kind of alphabetical order, which is a tiny, insignificant touch I appreciate enormously.

With an old friend appealing to him for help, begging for her life, Sarge's resolve wavers. He's already been forced to kill his neighbour today, to save his own life, but this? He can't do it, for all his tough talk when he wasn't looking her in the eye.

"You're sure she's one of them?" Dean asks Sam for confirmation, almost desperate for a way out of this. Sam nods, almost cringing. He's sure. It's horrible, but he's sure. But he's not the one who has to take responsibility for removing the danger by executing her.

Dean steels himself, steps forward, and shoots, without any more hesitation, face set like stone. Execution in cold blood. And you just know that beneath that expressionless mask he's wearing, he hates himself for it. But he does it anyway, so that the others don't have to, because Sarge couldn't bring himself to do it to a friend, and because he wouldn't ask it of Sam or the women. Every inch the big damn action hero, taking one emotional hit after another and burying them deep, picking himself up, and carrying on, every time.

Night. Sarge peers out through the blinds and sees random, presumably infected townspeople gathered all around, staring across at the medical centre, but making no move to try to get in. The implication is that this is the last stronghold of the uninfected, which is a pretty grim thought. I'd kind of like to be shown more of the violence around town, though, rather than just being told about it once or twice while mostly only being shown this passivity.

The direction and cinematography of this episode are just beautiful.

Nearby, Sam and Dean sort through their weapon collection, presumably having taken the extreme risk of popping out to the Impala to fetch it. Dean is brisk, businesslike and resolved, game face firmly in place and allowing nothing of whatever he's feeling to show, because they are in the middle of an enormous crisis situation and he's the one in charge, can't afford to break down in any way. Sam is more subdued, more obviously troubled by what's happening, shooting concerned glances sideways at his brother, who has been forced to kill two infected people already today.

I love that killing is never taken lightly on this show. Ending the life of another always has emotional consequences, and I really hope that the boys never get too hardened to it, although Dean is already starting to out of sheer self-preservation, in the same way that a soldier on the front line has to.

A crash from another room sends them all running. Pam has dropped a tray of blood samples and panics that she might have got the blood on her and be infected. Doctor Lee assures her that she's clean, nothing to worry about. Scared out of her wits, Pam pleads to be allowed to just go, to try to run for it. But they can't – the building is surrounded, and 'those things', as Dean puts it, are everywhere.

Dehumanising the enemy is essential when you know you might be called upon to kill more of them. They still look and sound like people, but if he keeps reminding himself what they have become and what they turn into when that transformation manifests, keeps calling them 'it' and 'thing', pulling the trigger becomes a little easier. Maybe.

While Doctor Lee makes soothing noises for Pam's benefit, the menfolk have a quiet debate in the doorway. Sam says that Pam is right – they need to get out of there, maybe get to the roadhouse (why? Why the roadhouse in particular? They parted on bad terms with Ellen, we've seen no sign of reconciliation, and it's not like they don't have older contacts they know better and trust more. But maybe the roadhouse works well in this context as a gathering point for hunters to pass on information of this nature) and let people know what's coming. They are operating on the assumption that what is happening in this one town is just the start of something much bigger, potentially apocalyptic. And that really is a grim prospect.

They are all pretty much agreed on the 'we need to get out of here' point, but the question is how? They are surrounded, the enemy are as well armed as they are if not more so and have the advantage of being demonically, psychotically homicidal. Sarge thinks explosives might be handy at this point, if only they could get their hands on some, and Sam's eyes fall on an array of chemicals and drugs on a nearby shelf. "We could make some," he suggests.

Fun with chemistry! Yay.

A frantic banging on the door throws them all onto red alert and they rush to see what it is. Rather than being the infected – yet so far oddly passive – townspeople finally making a move to end the siege, it is in fact just young Duane Tanner, begging to be let in. Why he would come here rather than anywhere else, since he has no way of knowing this is where the last non-infected people are holding out, and how he got through the watching crowd outside, is unclear. It's also unclear why the supremely paranoid Sarge is so ready to let him in, apparently not suspecting at all that this could be a stealth attack of some kind.

Dean confirms with Sam that this is the guy he killed in Sam's vision, and then asks Doctor Lee to give Duane the once-over, to check for signs of infection. The doctor gets to work, Duane takes a seat, and Sarge – now regaining a little of his paranoia – asks where he's been. Sounding confused and worried, Duane explains that he's been on a fishing trip and returned to find the whole town homicidally insane, that he's been hiding out in the woods ever since.

DUANE: "Has anybody seen my mom and dad?"
DEAN [aside to Sam]: "Awk-ward."

Well, yeah, that's putting it mildly! Dean shot both of Duane's parents. But inappropriate humour and pretending not to care have always been Dean's favoured coping mechanisms. I can't help noticing that Duane doesn't seem to be wondering where his brother is. He never mentions Jake at all, in fact.

Doctor Lee notices a nasty cut on Duane's leg, and everyone gets alarmed. Any kind of open wound means that infection is an enormous possibility. Duane brushes it off, saying he cut his leg while hiding in the woods. Dean tells Sarge to tie him up, to be on the safe side, and when Duane protests Dean loses patience and threatens him with the gun, enforcing obedience that way. Sarge backs Dean up on that point, and Duane's agitation increases, as he seems genuinely bewildered. But Mrs Tanner also seemed perfectly normal both before and after she turned. Mr Tanner and Jake both sounded deceptively casual even while cutting her and infecting her. Normal behaviour is no guarantee of non-infection, and that fact is fuel for the rampant paranoia already going around. Blood-to-blood is a relatively easy form of transmission when those infected are so willing and determined to achieve it.

Sam asks Doctor Lee if there's any way to be sure, and she reluctantly admits that there isn't. She's gone over Mrs Tanner's blood work with a fine tooth comb: the traces of sulphur did not start to show until after she'd turned, and it took three hours for the virus to incubate. There will be no way of knowing if Duane is infected or not until he turns. If he turns.

Sam has heard enough, and calls Dean into another room for another private debate, leaving Sarge to take care of tying Duane up.

This is the scene from Sam's vision, he explains, needlessly, since Dean has already figured that much out for himself. Sam insists that Dean can't kill Duane, not yet, not until they know for sure. Dean counter-argues that they are already pretty damn sure. Which they really aren't, but circumstantial evidence is stacked up against Duane and tensions are running appallingly high, under siege with no way out and no way of distinguishing the infected from the uninfected until it is too late. Sam suggests that they keep Duane tied up and wait and see.

DEAN: "For what? For him to hulk out, infect somebody else? No thanks, can't take that chance."

Sam has always interpreted his visions as showing him the lives he is supposed to save somehow, which places Duane firmly in the 'must save' category here, and he does not want Dean to kill anyone else today, not unless they are absolutely sure that he has to. Dean says that he's not any happier about it than Sam is, but that it's a tough job. He doesn't sound at all troubled, in fact, but Dean is very good at not letting anyone see what he's feeling, even Sam. Especially Sam, at times. And he's psyched himself up into full-blown soldier mode, dehumanising the enemy and determined to eliminate any and every perceived threat. He's had to, to cope with what has to be done, but it makes him dangerous when there is reasonable doubt.

SAM: "It's supposed to be tough, Dean. We're supposed to struggle with this, that's the whole point."
DEAN: "What does that buy us?"
SAM: "A clear conscience, for one."
DEAN: "Well, it's too late for that."

And that's the point. That's the difference between the two of them in this episode, and others. Dean hasn't had a clear conscience since he shot the possessed man in Salvation, and maybe even before then. He's been pushed into situations before now where he was forced to take a life and then come to terms with that, but Sam hasn't, mostly because he's always had his brother standing in front of him, making those calls at least in part so that he wouldn't have to.

It's the difference between being the leader of the operation, having to take overall responsibility and having to make impossible decisions in the blink of an eye, having to be ruthless, weighing the needs of the many against the needs of the few, and not being the leader, being shielded from having to make those kinds of calls because they are somebody else's responsibility. But Sam's innocence of that kind of burden of responsibility is exactly why Dean needs him in situations like this, to keep him from straying too far in the other direction, to remind him that there are other options.

SAM: "What the hell's happened to you?"
DEAN: "What?"
SAM: "You might kill an innocent man, and you don't even care. You don't act like yourself any more, Dean. Hell, you know, you're acting like one of those things out there."

Ouch. I get that Sam is tired and afraid and worried, but he hits ever so many of Dean's most intensely sensitive spots with that little outburst – accusing him of not caring, accusing him of behaving like the things he hunts when he knows that's one of Dean's biggest fears – and for all that he is frightened his brother is about to step over a line here, he should know him better than that. He's the only person who could. He especially should know that antagonising Dean is, generally speaking, the worst possible tactic he could employ against his brother. It inevitably pushes Dean further away rather than getting through to him, hardening his resolve by giving him more to react against and want to prove wrong. But maybe Sam feels the shock tactics are called for here.

Dean doesn't even try to argue or defend himself. He just pushes past Sam, locks him in, and gathers his resolve for what he believes he has to do to protect the innocent lives in his charge by removing a perceived threat before it can fully manifest. Allowing an infected person to turn and become violent before dealing with them means potentially losing control of the situation long enough for real damage to be done.

From behind that locked door, Sam yells at him not to do it as the scene from the teaser begins to play out. Dean checks the clip and re-loads the gun and, as he pushes the door open to step into the room where the others are waiting, his eyes look haunted, hating every moment of this and hating himself.

Sam's vision showed Dean killing Duane, and Sam's visions have always shown him lives he believes he is meant to save. And yet Duane is potentially infected, potentially a lethal, inhuman threat. So what is right and what is wrong? I really don't think Dean knows how to tell any more, not in this extreme and horrendous situation, with too many deaths on his conscience already, adrenaline pumping, fear and paranoia in full swing. In that frame of mind, killing Duane now and getting it over with would be infinitely preferable to having to sit around for hours waiting, getting to know the man at the same time as knowing that he would have to kill him anyway if and when he turned.

Securely tied to the chair now, Duane starts to panic and plead for his life. Pam fears that they will all die, and Sarge wonders if maybe Duane is telling the truth. Almost desperate to just get all of this over with now so that he doesn't have to make these horrendous decisions any more, Dean insists that Duane isn't him, not any more. Duane protests that it isn't in him. Doctor Lee stutters that she has no way of knowing, Duane sobs and begs for his life, and Dean takes aim.

"I got no choice." He looks like he wants to be sick, self-loathing written all over his face. A long moment follows. Dean's finger is on the trigger, tightening reflexively as he struggles with himself, with what he believes he has to do to protect the innocent, with what he wants to do, what he doesn't want to do, with the weight of the decision he's making here with too little information to be able to judge, with everything.

"Damn it." He can't do it. Evidently Sam's shock tactic argument was effective after all, weighting the balance in favour of reasonable doubt over the pre-emptive strike. Duane breathes again. Dean hightails it out of the room.

Cut to: Sam and Dean getting their geek on making impromptu firebombs, in silence.

Doctor Lee comes into the room to say that it's been over four hours, Duane is showing no sign of infection, his blood work is clean, and she'd like to untie him now. Dean glances at Sam, who gives a little nod, but Dean then returns his attention to his bomb making, rather than trust himself to make the call. Sam takes over, telling the doctor that yes, they can untie Duane now. She leaves. Sam looks at Dean.

SAM: "You know I'm going to ask you why."
DEAN: "Yeah, I know."
SAM: "So why? Why didn't you do it?"
DEAN: "We need more alcohol."

Heh. He said he knew Sam was going to ask. He never said he'd answer. He sounds more than a little shaky – that game face of his is showing the cracks now that that moment of adrenaline-fuelled personal crisis is past. Sam doesn't argue the point, since his timing on these matters is slowly improving, but obediently goes into the dispensary in the next room to get more supplies.

Pam is in there, pottering randomly around. Sam asks how she's holding up. "Good. It'll all be over soon," she says, sounding calmer than she has all episode. That's not a good sign, but the weary Sam doesn't pick up on it. He has no reason to. Even when she closes and locks the door, the alarm bells don't go off – with his back to her, Sam doesn't even seem to notice. They are all so very tired, trapped in this impossible situation.

Pam says she's been waiting for this the whole time – waiting to get Sam alone. There are a number of ways a line like that can be interpreted, and Sam is rather taken aback, but before he's had time to come up with any kind of reaction, Pam has turned. Infected. She's wild, demonic, and strong, flinging him to the ground, grabbing a scalpel to cut into his chest, and slicing her own hand open to smear her infected blood into his wound.

Hearing the noise, Dean and Sarge come running. Dean kicks open his second door of the episode, and shoots Pam dead without hesitation. She's very obviously infected and is physically attacking his brother – this has got to be the easiest kill of the episode for him, with the choices so very stark and simple. But it's already too late.

Dean must wonder, sometimes, if it's ever safe to let Sam out of his sight for more than a minute.

Winded, Sam holds up a hand for his brother to help him back to his feet, and Dean instantly reaches to take his hand – only for Sarge to stop him. Pam bled on Sam, onto an open wound – he's got the virus. Dean and Sam both look horrified.

I must admit to being a little confused as to how Pam was infected. It could have been the blood samples she dropped, but Doctor Lee assured both her and us that she was clean – there was no blood-to-blood contact. Besides, if Duane has remained infection-free for four hours since then, so has Pam because it happened before he arrived, and the incubation for Mrs Tanner was only three hours. Pam told Sam she'd been waiting to get him alone the whole time. So was she always infected, the whole time, but retained enough control to bide her time? Does the incubation period vary from person to person, which means that Duane's four hours are not necessarily conclusive? Or did she develop the infection some other way, without any blood-to-blood contact – did it spontaneously manifest somehow, at the will of the demon? After all, it had to have started somewhere and somehow in the first place. That's a really chilling thought. So…confusing, but intriguing.

Cut to: a short time later. Sam sits holding pressure to his wound, while everyone else sits around, watching him in silence. Sam looks devastated; Dean maintains an air of brisk, businesslike denial, asking the doctor to check his wound again. She makes no move to comply, Dean snaps at her, and Sarge snaps back at him that there's no need – they already know what happened. Doctor Lee tremulously asks Sam if he's sure there was blood-to-blood contact, which is a nice little character touch for her because they all already know that it did, but so many people have already died, and she's a doctor, all about healing and saving lives wherever possible. Like Dean, she wants a glimmer of hope to cling to, even if there isn't any that's not manufactured by denial.

Now that the infected person isn't someone he knows and cares for, Sarge's gung-ho paranoia is back in full swing, and he and Dean yell at each other a bit. Sarge is grimly determined to eliminate the perceived threat, while those emotional walls Dean has so painstakingly rebuilt this season are crumbling fast. Sam is all he has left.

DEAN: "Nobody is shooting my brother."
DUANE: "He isn't going to be your brother much longer, you said it yourself."
DEAN: "Nobody's shooting anyone."
DUANE: "You were going to shoot me!"
DEAN: "You don't shut your pie-hole I still might!"
SAM: "Dean, they're right."

Dean's panicked and desperate defence of his brother comes to a screeching halt at those words. Now he has to defend Sam not just from these outsiders but also from Sam himself, and with Sam infected the only thing he can hope to buy is a very small amount of time.

SAM: "I'm infected, just give me the gun and I'll do it myself."

Oh, Sam. Dean continues to cling determinedly to his denial.

DEAN: "Forget it."
SAM: "Dean, I'm not going to become one of those things."

That's such a huge fear for them both – inevitably, given the things they see in their line of work – becoming one of the things they hunt. It's the reason they burned John's corpse. It's the reason I think Dean would ultimately have given in and gone with the reaper in In My Time of Dying if John hadn't intervened at the crucial moment. The thought of becoming one of the things they hunt and forcing their loved ones to hunt them down and destroy them is horrific.

Dean insists that they still have some time. "Time for what?" Sarge asks. He expresses sympathy for Dean's position, but is adamant that they have to take care of this, pulls out his gun.

DEAN: "I'm going to say this once: you make a move on him you'll be dead before you hit the ground, you understand me? Do I make myself clear?"

Dean is always, always at his absolute fiercest when Sam is in danger. No one threatens his brother.

"What are we supposed to do?" Sarge shouts in frustration.

At the end of his tether, Dean makes a desperate decision, pulls out his car keys, and hands them over.

"Get the hell out of here, that's what," he tells them. They've got the weapons and explosives; they should be able to get through – Sarge, Doctor Lee and Duane.

He gave away the Impala. The car he rebuilt with his own hands that even Sam hasn't got to drive yet this season. That's…so huge, so final. Sam knows it, and his eyes go wide with horror as he realises what Dean is saying. Even Sarge gets it, although he has to ask, "What about you?" just to clarify. Dean doesn't answer, just looks at him. He's not leaving his brother, and that's that, giving up his own chance of survival in order to be with Sam to the bitter end, whatever the outcome of this infection.

SAM: "Dean, no. No. Go with them, it could be your only chance."
DEAN: "No, you're not getting rid of me that easy."

Sarge also pleads with Dean to go with them, but he's immovable on this point. Sam is almost in tears, while Sarge gives Dean a look of grudging respect mingled with exasperation. "It's your funeral." Literally, pretty much, given what they are all expecting.

Dean's clothes kind of hang off him a bit this season, I feel compelled to note. Either he's lost some weight, or has developed a habit of buying clothes a size too big, liking the comfort of slight bagginess. Either way, I find I like the general look, as always. Hmm. Yes. Although I'm pretty sure I'd like just about anything he chose to wear.

The civilians leave, Doctor Lee turning to express sympathy and to thank the 'marshals' for everything.

"Oh, actually, we're not really marshals," Dean admits, way past the point of caring about maintaining cover. He just can't get rid of her fast enough now. Once she's gone, he closes and locks the door, and then turns back to Sam, who is distraught, and tries to lighten the moment, because honestly – what do you say? "I wish we had a deck of cards, or a fooze-ball table, or something."

But there's no way Sam is going to let him off the hook like that, not when his life is at stake. Sam begs him not to do this, to just get the hell out of there. But Dean won't be budged on that point, no way.

SAM: "Give me my gun and leave."
DEAN: "For the last time, Sam, no."

Sam explodes, thumping his casted hand on the table alongside him, tears starting to fall. He's not crying for himself because he expects to die – he's crying because he's devastated at the thought of taking his brother with him. Which has got to give him some insight into how Dean feels about John's sacrifice for his sake.

SAM: "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."
DEAN: "I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa? Ugh."

Hee. There's that defence mechanism kicking back in again. Sam is crying in earnest now, and fond viewers long to hug him and make it all better.

SAM: "Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."
DEAN: "No."
SAM: "No, you can keep going."
DEAN: "Who says I want to?"

Extreme kudos to Jensen Ackles for his work in this episode. Again. Dean just looks so tired and so defeated right now: almost welcoming the prospect of death and an end to the relentless grind of his life. Sam is horrified all over again.

DEAN: "I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life, this weight on my shoulders, man, I'm tired of it."

This is so far removed from their emotional confrontation in Shadow, and yet it's much the same theme, just further along the road. Then, as now, Dean could see nothing but the hunt ahead of him, but back then that prospect was a positive one, enough to keep him going, saving innocent lives, whether his family were with him or not. He wanted them with him, desperately, but if they chose to leave him behind he could live with it, despite the hurt and rejection, because just knowing they were out there was all the hope he needed to cling to that their family could be fixed someday.

He doesn't have that any more. John is already gone, and now Sam has been infected with this demonic virus and, it seems certain, is therefore going to die, one way or another, barring miracles. Everyone has their breaking point, and this is it for Dean. He honestly believes he should be dead already, and the constant shame, anger and remorse of what took place to prevent it happening have been wearing him down all season. Sam has been the only thing keeping him going, and now he faces the prospect of losing him too, and being left with nothing but this life he believes he should no longer have and a career that was chosen for him with no opt-out clause so long ago he doesn't know how to do anything else. It's an exhausting and deeply depressing prospect. Just the thought of trying to pick up the pieces with Sam gone, if he had nothing left of his own to hang onto, is too wearying to contemplate. How could he even think about trying to repair other peoples' families and offer them hope when he couldn't save his own? The brash, cocky maverick of the first season is almost unrecognisable, but every step of his progress to this end has been psychologically consistent and painfully credible.

Viewers long to crawl into their TVs, hug Dean, and make it all better for him, too.

But for Sam, staring his own death – or worse – full in the face at this moment, the thought of taking his brother with him is more than he can bear. Sam wants his brother to live, no matter what; Dean has chosen to die with him, instead.

SAM: "So, what? So you're just gonna give up? I mean, you're just going to lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad had –"
DEAN: "You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but –"

Sam asks what it is about, and kudos to Jared Padalecki, too. The raw emotion in his voice kills me, and he's got tears running down his face, into his mouth, utterly grief-stricken.

But before Dean can answer, Doctor Lee returns to call them outside.

Outside, the town is completely deserted. Not a soul is left, they've all just gone. Every single person. I wonder if that includes the dead, or if there are a bunch of random corpses strewn about town. The Roanoke story suggests not. It's all deeply chilling. It's also significant that the people all vanished as soon as Sam was exposed to the virus – that was the whole point, and once it was achieved, their work was done. But where the hell did they all go? Very creepy.

Morning. Doctor Lee checks Sam's blood work, five hours after exposure, and proclaims him clean – no sign of infection. "I don't understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet."

Just why the disappearance of all the other infected townspeople should make Sam's exposure to the virus any less of a threat is unclear, but the doctor, Sarge and Duane have clearly changed their minds about escaping from town in search of help, and instead have hung around to see what would happen to this last infected victim. And the answer is – nothing.

Sam is amazed and confused, and the doctor has no answers for him. She looks back at the Tanners' samples for a comparison…and is amazed all over again to find that the sulphuric traces have completely vanished leaving no sign that there was ever anything wrong with them. No evidence for anyone outside the town to ever learn what happened there. That's Roanoke again, right? Except that this time there are survivors to bear witness, for anyone that believes such a crazy story.

Outside, Sarge and Duane load up a truck to leave town. Now, Duane has just lost his entire family, yes? Parents infected and shot, kid brother infected and vanished. He doesn't seem all that grief-stricken, although you could argue, if not watching with the benefit of hindsight, that he's just overloaded with everything that happened last night and needs time to process and work through it all. He suggests to Doctor Lee that she go with them, but she shakes her head. She's got leaving town plans of her own, saying she needs to get over to Sidewinder and notify the authorities, if they'll believe her. With Sarge and Duane leaving town, and Sam and Dean not sticking around, she'll be the only witness.

Sarge and Duane head on out. Dean confirms with the doctor that Sam is all right, and she then heads back inside, leaving the brothers to absorb everything that's happened.

SAM: Hey, man, don't look at me. I got no clue."
DEAN: "I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now, where the hell did everybody go? It's not like they just freakin' melted."
SAM: "Why was I immune?"
DEAN: "Yeah, you know what, that's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away."

They are both deeply troubled and react to that in their own highly idiosyncratic ways – Dean by getting belligerent, and Sam by brooding quietly. And Dean knows something that Sam doesn't, something about Sam that he's been trying not to think about but that's worried him deeply every time he was reminded of it. This case is one of those reminders, a massive one. Whatever the secret is that John told Dean, neither brother can be in any doubt that Sam's immunity to this virus is really not the blessing it appears on the surface to be, hinting at something worryingly sinister when allied to those visions that Sam can't control, and the fact that the visions seem to be linked to the yellow-eyed demon and to others with abilities like Sam's that have ended in dire consequences.

Also: the population of an entire town demonically infected and then vanishing without trace? This one clocks up as a truly resounding defeat, whichever way you look at it.

The brothers get into the Impala and head out of town. I'm immensely amused that Dean, being such a conscientious driver, automatically takes time to check the road behind before pulling out, despite the fact that the entire town is abandoned and deserted and therefore there really isn't going to be any traffic.

Somewhere out on the road, Sarge's van drives along. Duane asks him to pull over so he can make a call, and Sarge willingly, trustingly obliges, although he does point out that there's no phone way out here in the middle of nowhere. He doesn't seem to wonder just who Duane wants to call, given that his family and friends from town are all dead or disappeared.

"I got it covered," Duane tells him…pulling out a sharp little knife just like the one Meg used to use and slashing his throat with it, catching the blood in a silver bowl also just like the one Meg used to use. His technique for communicating via this blood with the yellow-eyed Demon is slightly different than Meg's, but no less effective. Unlike with Meg, viewers get to hear an odd, guttural whispering sound in lieu of the Demon's instructions and questions.

DUANE: "It's over, you'll be pleased. I don't think any more tests are necessary. The Winchester boy – definitely immune, as expected. Yes, of course – nothing left behind."

Nothing left behind…part from Doctor Lee, that is. I wonder what her chances are of making it to Sidewinder alive, and feel sad for both her and the Sarge. I like that the episode has made me care about their fates. Duane's eyes flash demon-black, just in case we were in any doubt as to his possession.

Kinda makes me wish Dean had gone through with shooting Duane earlier – if he was already possessed, which he surely must have been, it wouldn't have killed him, and that would have been something of a dead giveaway. Except that I really didn't want Dean to shoot him in those circumstances, without being sure he absolutely had to. He's got enough deaths on his conscience as it is.

And, so, the whole thing was a test for Sam – a test he passed. That's ominous. It's also one hell of an overkill, taking out an entire town to test one person – demonstrates the lengths this Demon will go to in order to achieve its ends. Like I said, ominous. But also a risky manoeuvre. I mean, there was no guarantee that Sam would survive to demonstrate his immunity – Sarge could easily have blown him away if Dean hadn't prevented it, and Sam showed that he was willing to kill himself rather than be turned into one of those things.

Just what the meaning of Sam's vision was, beyond that it got him to Rivergrove for the test to take place, remains supremely unclear, and is the kind of conundrum that you can twist your brain into a knot trying to puzzle out.

Overall the entire case leaves us with more questions than ever about Sam, and about the Demon and his plans!

Elsewhere, Dean and Sam have found a beautiful lake to stop at for a short break, each sipping at a beer that I'm going to assume came from that six-pack Dean was carrying in the teaser. The atmosphere is relaxed and casual, the calm after the storm having both survived when they really didn't expect to. But Sam hasn't forgotten what happened, or what Dean let slip when he thought the end was nigh.

It's notable that as this scene opens, Dean is gazing out at the lake, but Sam is watching Dean.

SAM: "So. Last night. You want to tell me what the hell you were talking about?"

Dean plays dumb, and Sam sounds almost amused as he presses the point. Right here and right now, this is a game, pretence of their usual manoeuvres, rather than the real thing.

SAM: "You said you were tired of the job, and that it wasn't just because of Dad."
DEAN: "Forget it."
SAM: "No, I can't. No way."
DEAN: "Well, man, I thought we were both gonna die, you can't hold that over me."
SAM: "No, no, no, you can't pull that crap with me, you're talking."
DEAN: "And what if I don't?"
SAM: "Well, I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do."

Heh. And he would, as well. Because he can. And they both know that.

DEAN: "I don't know, man. I just think we oughta…go to the Grand Canyon."

Sam is nonplussed. That really wasn't the answer he was expecting. Dean points out that he spends his life driving back and forth across the country but has never been to the Grand Canyon, and he's partly deflecting the deeper question, habitual defence mechanisms kicking in, wanting to keep things light. But he's also deadly serious about his need to just stop, even if only for a short break to recharge the batteries, tossing out a few more stupid suggestions of things they could do other than leap straight into the next hunt they manage to find. He's never been able to just take a break, kick back and spend time just being himself. They never take the time to just be brothers.

But this is also about so much more than that. It's about 'a storm's coming, and you boys…you are smack in the middle of it'. It's about Sam having painful visions connected to the yellow-eyed demon, and the secret John whispered in Dean's ear. It's about fear of what the future holds impressing upon him an urgent need to take time to make the most of what he has right now – which is Sam, safe and good and as innocent as their lives allow and here with him.

Dean is asking for a rest, for a break from the crippling burden of responsibility he's forced to carry around with him, and it's something he wants and needs for himself, and for him and Sam as brothers. But since when has Dean ever been allowed to have anything he wanted for himself? That's the question concerned viewers start to ask themselves at this point. If Dean is asking for something for himself, which he almost never does, it's a sure sign that what he wants is almost immediately going to be snatched from his grasp.

SAM: "You're not making any sense."
DEAN: "I just think we should take a break from all this. Why do we get stuck with all the responsibility, why can't we live life a little bit?"

A year ago Sam was singing that tune, and it worries him to hear it from Dean. But maybe this is also partly about Dean offering Sam a line he think his brother will accept, offering him something Sam has always – before this season, anyway – wanted so badly: some semblance of normality and an out from the relentless routine of the hunt.

SAM: "Why are you saying all this?"

Not sure he wants to go on, not sure how to go on, Dean turns and starts to walk back to the car, attempting to end the conversation before it can get any more revealing. But Sam isn't about to let him get away with that, not here, not now, after everything. Sam is all Dean has left, pretty much the only thing keeping him going at this stage, as this episode has made clear. But that works the other way around, as well. Equally, Dean is all Sam has left, and supporting his big brother any way he needs to, any way he can, has become one of Sam's missions in life this season.

They each have so much invested in the other, are so close and so open with each other right now, and it's beautiful because we've seen over the course of the past season and a half just how hard-earned that emotional intimacy is. This is a scene for viewers to treasure during the course of whatever is to follow in forthcoming episodes.

SAM: "No, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, all right. So whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit."
DEAN: "I can't. I promised."
SAM: "Who?"
DEAN: "Dad."
SAM: "What are you talking about?"
DEAN: "Right before Dad died, he told me something. He told me something about you."

Sam freezes on the spot, concern for Dean instantly subsumed by dread for himself. Fear of what his visions and connection to the Demon might mean has been eating him up inside for so long. "What? Dean, what did he tell you?"

Fade to black on Dean, conflicted – with an entire winter hiatus before we get to find out what happens next!


December 2006

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