"This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done."

Let's start with the basics. I like to be amused. This episode amused me enormously, as well as touching me in all the right place. Job done. Marvellous.

Also, Then and Now are back! Is it sad that that makes me happy?

Then.

"Dad wants us to pick up where he left off – saving people, hunting things, the family business," Dean reminds us. Again.

"Hey, you were the bank robber on the eleven o'clock news, not me," Sam points out to Dean. Special Agent Henrickson informs Dean that it's his job to bring him in, alive being a bonus but not necessary, before listing off all the crimes and misdemeanours the Feds have got pinned on him, with Sam as accomplice. Having narrowly escaped the bank robbery disaster, Dean and Sam struggle to regain their composure. "We are so screwed," admits Dean.

Now.

Green River County Detention Centre. A whole bunch of convicts in their bright orange boiler suits hang out in the recreation yard, guarded by the guards. Inside, a workman is hard at work with a welding torch, while a couple of other guys wander toward him bitching about the reopening of a cellblock that had been shut down. "There's your tax dollars at work, huh."

The sealed door is opened, and the men wander in to have a look at just how grim and derelict it is. "Yikes. Would've hated to get thrown in here," is their verdict.

With a ghostly whisper, a spot of cold air drifts past, creeping them both out. Out in the corridor, the workman is startled by a sudden gust of wind – indoor wind – that blows a stack of loose papers all around.

Later. A prisoner is lying on his bed enjoying a good book when flickering lights and odd noises draw his attention. Outside in the corridor the clock stops, and then a shadowy figure flashes past his cell. The prisoner – who we will shortly learn is called Randall – flips out and starts yelling up at the security camera, much to the irritation of his fellow inmates, trying to sleep in other cells. Despite the camera-feed also flickering in and out – sure sign of a ghostly presence – he finally attracts the attention of the guard, who comes all the way down there just to tell him to turn his light off and go to sleep.

Randall sullenly complies, and the guard heads back upstairs – only for a ghostly figure to follow him and slam the barred door shut on his arm, trapping him. He yells in agony – and then in fear, as something moves toward him.

Locked securely in his cell, Randall tries to see what's going on, as the guard's frantic screams fill the air.

Titles.

Arkansas Museum of Anthropology. Three months later. Dean and Sam break in, all covert like. So far so normal. Oh, and GLORY BE TO HEAVEN ABOVE! They are wearing GLOVES! Hallelujah and about time too!!

Of course, it figures they'd only resort to gloves the one time they actually want to get caught, as we are about to find out! Still, it makes me happy, and I hope they keep them.

Sam: "I hate this plan, Dean."
Dean: "Yeah, I got that the first ten times I heard it."

They walk right through a motion detector without sparing it so much as a glance, triggering the silent alarm. And that's enough to set alarm bells ringing even for unspoiled viewers, because we know damn well that they know to check for and disable any kind of alarm.

Deep in the museum, the boys rather expertly break into display cases and admire the antique weaponry within. Then comes a sound off in the distance to warn them they are no longer alone in there. Both freeze, Sam looking adorably scared stiff, to back up his expressed hatred of this plan, while Dean just looks resolute. They set down their purloined weapons and sneak back out into the corridors, but are very quickly pinned down by all kinds of armed police, and arrested.

That many armed cops seems kind of like overkill for a break in at a museum. Or are the contents that valuable and/or dangerous?

Next up – mugshots. Sam glowers for his, silent and sullen, whereas Dean's got his game face well and truly in place: all cheerful cockiness and sarcastic humour. But seriously – there's something wrong with that height chart behind them! Sam barely seems taller than Dean, who seems to hit a higher figure than he should. Maybe Dean's at full stretch or on tiptoes while Sam slouches…

Holding cell. Dean sits at a table, waiting, his posture screaming boredom. It's kind of like The Usual Suspects all over again. The door opens and Special Agent Henrickson walks in, accompanied by his partner, Special Agent Reedy. Dean, of course, has never seen Henrickson before and so has no idea who he is. Not that knowing would probably alter his attitude any – he's always this much of a smartass when he comes up against the law, defences thrown up as high and as wide as they'll go. "Oh, it's about time," he drawls. "I'll have a cheeseburger. Extra onions."

Henrickson: "You think you're funny."
Dean: "I think I'm adorable."
Hee. The delivery really sells that line.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you in person, Dean," says Henrickson, and Dean's smile freezes as comprehension dawns. This is an eventuality that hadn't quite been factored into the plan.

Dean: "Not the Milwaukee Agent Henrickson?"
Henrickson: "Live and in person."

Dean just gives a wry smile, having to rapidly restrategise to allow for this new and unwelcome development, and trying not to let that show. Props as usual to JA for his very subtle acting, showing us how rattled Dean is by the Feds getting there so quickly combined with his usual bright, brittle cockiness in the face of authority. Henrickson shows him a blow-up of his face as it appeared on the news back in Milwaukee, deer-in-the-headlights expression captured perfectly. "Nice shot. You can hang that up in your cell at Super Max."

"All right, maybe we can just forget the cheeseburgers," Dean concedes with a bright smile.
"Oh yeah, keep that game face on." Henrickson is cold as ice, as befitting a man who believes he's got the upper hand over such troublesome quarry. "Try and cover up how cornered you are."

Why do the writers keep feeling so obliged to have their guest characters spell Dean's defence mechanism out for us? We get it! Really, we do.

Special Agent Reedy finally starts to earn his fee as he starts listing off the charges against Dean, starting with the minor stuff – mail fraud, credit card fraud, grave desecration… Henrickson tells him to skip to the good stuff, which involves armed robbery, kidnapping and three counts of first-degree murder. Those are not good charges to have levied against you.

Henrickson adds that, after Milwaukee, Dean's brother is now a suspect in a murder case himself. Now, he could mean that Sam is implicated in the Milwaukee bank deaths along with Dean, but there were two deaths there, not just one, and there's no reason to connect Sam in particular with either one, especially as we've already been told that both are being pinned on Dean. Or it could be a reference to the events of either Born Under a Bad Sign or Heart, take your pick. It's kinda vague. If the latter, it means the brothers didn't get away quite as cleanly as they might have hoped. Sam is beginning to build himself up quite the rap sheet too now – so much for ever being able to return to law school, should he want to some day, even if his chances of doing so already seemed so remote. Although he never says as much, you'd have to assume that not wanting something like this on his police record would have to be among the reasons Sam hates this plan so much.

Henrickson: "I'd say for you two screwed to hell is a major understatement."
Dean: "Well, where there's life there's hope. Huh?"
Henrickson: "See, that's what I kept thinking as I was searching for your asses all over hell and gone."

Henrickson keeps talking, about how well John taught the boys to cover their tracks, the way they disappeared so completely after Milwaukee. "Near went nuts trying to find you. Ask him." He nods to his partner, who obliges: "He near went nuts."

Dean can't quite believe the lameness of the double act.

"And after all of that, you get tripped up on a motion detector. Pretty rookie move. I gotta say, I was surprised." Henrickson sounds so smug; he can't conceive that they might have done it on purpose, because that would so clearly be insane. He believes he's got them all figured out, and yet has absolutely no clue.

Dean smirks a tight little smirk to himself, probably thinking along much those lines, and says nothing. He is saved from any more monologue-ing from Henrickson by the arrival of one Mara Daniels from the Public Defender's Office, who has been assigned to his and Sam's case.

Henrickson: "We're not quite done here."
Mara: "Uh, yeah. You are."

Smackdown on Henrickson. I find myself inclined to like this woman just for that one line, right there. She coolly insists on meeting with her clients. Privately. And Henrickson has to concede, much to Dean's amusement.

Except that I'm pretty sure two suspects in a case like this would be kept well away from each other, surely, so as not to allow them any opportunity to get their stories straight. I'm not even sure they'd be given the same legal representation, because of the conflict of interest – the same person can't possibly act in the best interests of both, as their best interests might be opposed to one another, if for example one chose to confess and the other not. I'm hazy on the legalities, though, so feel perfectly entitled to just go with the flow.

I find myself wanting to see Henrickson interviewing Sam now. Those two have never interacted, and Henrickson seems so sure he's got Dean all figured out, it'd be interesting to see what he'd make of Sam, whose game face is so very different. Would he reach the same conclusions as the cops in Baltimore: interpret Sam as the corrupted innocent and attempt to reach him that way, trying to persuade him to turn on his brother with judicious application of both pressure and incentives? Or would he consider Sam as much of a lost cause as Dean and take a harder line?

Anyway. Mara meets with Dean and Sam alone, as requested, and informs them that their arraignment on the breaking and entering charge won't be till Tuesday. This might mean more to viewers if we knew what day today was supposed to be, because we'd then know how long they've got to crack the case. The boys quickly check with her that until then they will be kept in the county jail, Green River Detention Centre. Getting into that particular institution was the entire point of this insane little exercise, so it kind of matters to them that after all this they do actually get sent there. Confirmation from Mara is followed up by a quick flash of eye contact: silent communication between the boys; confirmation of their destination also confirms that the job they are trying to work is definitely on, and they are pretty much committed to it now.

Mara continues that given the charges they are facing, no judge in his right mind is going to grant bail. Sam snorts, and Dean casually tells her that yeah, they'd figured that. He doesn't add that it won't be a problem, as they are perfectly capable of making their own arrangements in that regard. Mara goes on to add that there have already been extradition papers filed by five separate states, with Missouri and Wisconsin being the biggest concern – the bank robbery and murders.

I suppose, from Dean's point of view, when you've already got the kind of charges stacked against you that he does, adding a breaking and entering charge just for the sake of being arrested and locked up doesn't seem such a crazy idea – what's one more charge among the many? Sam's record was a lot cleaner, though, at least until very recently, despite the guilt by association factor. That murder connection Henrickson mentioned for Sam is curious, and I'd really like to know which murder he's a suspect for.

Sam is starting to look anxious now, and wonders how long they can stall extradition. A week, Mara tells him, maybe less. Another quick look filled with unspoken communication flashes between the boys, as that, more than the arraignment date, sets them their timescale to complete this job. They can't allow themselves to be extradited to another state, neither one of them. Dean, at least, is facing a possible death sentence if this goes too far – a fact that kind of drives home just how insane this plan really is – and with Sam facing possible murder charges too, the stakes are pretty high.

This legal dilemma isn't going anywhere any time soon, and I really appreciate the repeated recurrence of this problem. It adds so much realism to the world Dean and Sam inhabit. And that Sam is so nervous about putting themselves into this situation deliberately, it being as precarious and unpredictable as it is, is entirely understandable. There are a hell of a lot of variables at play here, and there's a lot that could go very, very wrong with the plan.

Prison Van. Arriving at Green River Detention Centre, a bunch of shackled prisoners disembark and begin to shuffle their way inside, Dean and Sam among them. Dean is continuing to give every impression of complete calm with his situation, and even manages to seem perfectly at ease with the hobble chain. He's worn one of those before, at least once that we know of. Sam isn't anywhere near as comfortable, either with the situation or the chains. As they make their way toward the building to be processed, past the recreation yard, the inmates hanging around therein gather around to heckle at the newcomers in bawdy fashion. Sam does not find this the slightest bit reassuring, and starts to get a little twitchy.

Dean: "Don't worry, Sam. I promise I won't trade you for smokes."
Heh.

Inside, now clad in those fetching bright orange boiler suits designed to make them each stand out like so many sore thumbs, the newbies each carry their standard issue blanket, towel and toilet paper to their assigned cells. Of course, it would be way, way too much to expect our boys to be roomed together. Dean and the belligerent looking longhaired dude walking in front of him are given the dubious pleasure of sharing a cell.

"I call top bunk," Dean automatically tries, continuing to exude much the same attitude as he did in the last episode: that of throwing himself into a new experience with the utmost verve and seeking to get as much as he can out of it. How much of this is genuine nonchalance and how much is feigned for the sake of appearances is hard to judge, Dean being Dean. Long Hair looks at him like he's nuts for even trying, and dumps his stuff on the top bunk. That puts Dean in his place, and just for the tiniest split second his determinedly upbeat demeanour wavers a little.

Sam, meanwhile, is shown to another cell directly opposite, and nods a guarded greeting to the inmate already residing therein. The guy promptly unfolds himself from the bed in order to be properly intimidating of the newcomer, and wow, he's bigger and burlier than Sam. Now there's something you don't see every day. There's something Sam doesn't see every day. Sam gulps and, as their respective cell doors are firmly closed and locked behind them, turns to give his brother a hard stare for getting him into this. Sam's expressions throughout this episode are consistently hilarious, his exasperation and trepidation knowing no bounds.

It isn't often that our boys don't have to share a room – finally they get separate rooms, only to have to share them with complete strangers of the criminal variety.

Later. Inmates stand in line to be processed for something or other. Waiting their turn, Dean and Sam take the opportunity to quietly debrief on their respective jail experiences so far, and to discuss their situation.

Dean: "My roommate doesn't say much. What about yours?"
Sam: "Just keeps staring at me. In a way that makes me really uneasy."
Ah, Sam. He's so uncomfortable with this whole situation, and has so clearly heard all the prison horror stories, which will probably keep him awake every night he's in here.
Dean: "Sounds like you're making new friends."
Sam: "Dean. This is, without a doubt, the dumbest, craziest thing we've ever done. And that's in a long sordid career of dumb and crazy."

Dean hisses at him to calm down, that this is all part of the plan, and Sam explodes, very quietly. "Oh, really? So Henrickson showing up was part of the plan?"

Dean acknowledges that Henrickson moves a little faster than he'd thought, but remains calm, insisting that all they have to do is find the ghost, put the sucker down, "and grab ourselves a couple of those teardrop tattoos."

Dean's got his game face more or less permanently in place throughout this episode; he needs it to get the job done. That smartass attitude is his shield, and he uses it to help him achieve whatever needs to be done to finish the job, presenting it to Sam, as well as the outside world. If the idea of deliberately getting sent to jail is freaking him out at all, he doesn't want anyone, but anyone, to know about it – can't afford to show any sign of weakness in there – including Sam, because Sam's already freaking out in his own right about it, and this was Dean's plan, so he has to hold it together for both their sakes. It's like high stakes poker – can't let anything show.

"That's not funny," Sam snips. "Dean, what about this escape plan?"

You know, I can't help feeling that standing right in the middle of a line of prison inmates where anyone can overhear really isn't the best place to be discussing ghosts and escape plans. But anyway, Dean insists that the plan is 100% foolproof and that he wouldn't have gone in if it wasn't. Sam doesn't look convinced, so Dean sticks to what to him is the central point – that this place has all the signs of a haunting. "Innocent people are dead, four so far."

Sam snorts at the notion of convicted criminals being considered innocent. Dean looks at him, his devil-may-care manner slipping for a moment, allowing Sam and us a glimpse of what lies beneath. "What, are you from Texas all of a sudden? Just 'cause these people are in jail doesn't mean they deserve to die. And if we don't stop this thing, people are going to continue to die. We do the job wherever it takes us."

I like his fervour there, kinda like in the good old days of season one when the prospect of saving a life, any life, was what kept Dean motivated. It feels like a really, really long time since we saw Dean initiate a hunt, at least when it wasn't about chasing after Sam. Actually, it feels like kind of a long time since we were told which of the boys initiated their latest hunt, apart from last week's, of course, in which it was made clear that the destination was Dean's idea and that finding a job once they got there was Sam's.

"Look, Dean, be straight with me, all right?" Sam murmurs. "You're doing this for Deacon…we barely even know the guy."

Deacon, apparently, is an old army buddy of John's. "We know he saved Dad's life, we know we owe him," Dean insists. All of which kinda begs the questions of how exactly this Deacon managed to get in touch with them, and how he knows about the ghost-hunting thing. But when the background is as vague as this, it hints at a richer history than we are being told, peripheral to the story as it is, and that's always something to appreciate, as it provides fodder for the imagination and makes the story feel deeper. And it's nice to hear of another old contact of John.

Sam wonders if maybe Deacon is asking a little much, but Dean firmly tells him it doesn't matter. "We may not be saints, but we're loyal. And we pay our debts. Now that means something to me, and it ought to for you. I'm not thrilled about this either, man, but Deacon asked us to hunt this thing down and that's exactly what we're going to do."

This is how the job came about, and it makes a strange kind of sense – going into jail, given their circumstances and how long they've been on the run from the Feds, is a ridiculous enough notion that there would have to be a really good reason for it, over and above the concept of saving criminal lives. That it is a favour owed on John's behalf to an old friend of his provides strong motivation, especially for Dean, who has so completely absorbed John's old army principles and ideals. However angry he was with his father earlier in the season, he's come to terms with his death sufficiently that he needs to do this for him now, to pay off that debt. It's all about loyalty, duty and obligation.

Sam's concerns seem well and truly justified, though. This is, indeed, a crazy plan. And Dean's little 'I'm not thrilled about this, either' hints at how much of his behaviour and confidence is a front.

Canteen. Sam regards a forkful of spaghetti with deep suspicion. From the colour and texture as it comes across on screen, he has my deepest sympathy. He leans forward to sniff the offending portion as cautiously as if he suspects it may be poisoned, and then lets it drop back onto the plate with a sniff of disgust. Sam clearly likes his food to be, y'know, food. Dean's not so fussy, and, as we have seen on so many occasions, will eat just about anything put in front of him, especially if he doesn't have to pay for it.

"You know, this chicken isn't half bad," Dean enthuses, avoiding any mention of the anaemic looking spaghetti.
"Great, finish mine," Sam tells him, lip curling in disgust as he pushes his plate away. Now, the food may not be great, but starving yourself is no way to maintain a healthy body, I feel obliged to point out. Dean is less concerned with Sam's appetite or lack thereof, and cheerfully helps himself to a portion of the aforementioned chicken from his brother's plate.

Rather than waste time on the unpalatable food, Sam is keen to go over the case, and between them they exposit for the benefit of the audience that the chief suspect is one Mark Moody, 'psycho killer extraordinaire', who got himself banged up for Satanism and ritual murder before dying in jail.

Sam: "Sure it's him?"
Dean: "Pretty sure."
Sam: "Dean. Considering our circumstances, I'm gonna need a little bit better than 'pretty sure'."
Dean: "Really pretty sure."

Sam continues to look unconvinced, and slightly shell-shocked over the fact that he ever agreed to this plan in the first place – his air of disbelief over letting Dean talk him into this remains with him throughout the entire episode. Where Dean gives every impression of being completely comfortable with being in jail, regarding it as a new and interesting experience and seemingly never doubting for a second that they can get themselves back out again whenever they choose, Sam, in contrast, never seems all that far from the beginnings of panic over the prospect that they just might not.

Dean elaborates that Moody died of a heart attack, which was the cause of death for all the recent victims also. And surely they'd have gone over all this with a fine toothcomb while Dean was in the process of talking Sam into his plan, long before they ever got near the place. I get the need to provide exposition for the audience, but still. Anyway, Dean continues that Moody died in the old cellblock, which was closed soon afterward, about thirty years ago. That cellblock was recently reopened, and the killings started pretty soon after.

It seems likely, therefore, that reopening the cellblock released Moody's spirit, somehow. Sam wonders how it would affect their investigation if Moody was already cremated, which again, surely they'd have already checked out before letting themselves get banged up. Possibly it's just the wording that's so awkward there, and what Sam means is that they already know Moody has been cremated, hence the dilemma over what's keeping his spirit present and active. Dean suggests that maybe there's something that belonged to him in the old cellblock that's keeping him around. "Whatever it is, we got to find it, and, uh, you know the rest."

Having cleared as much of his plate as he's going to, Dean gets up and wanders away. Sam makes to follow, but half turns to see just how much of the inedible food his brother has managed to put away, and so, not looking where he's going, manages to walk right into a fellow inmate, a giant slab of muscle with rather manic eyes – clearly the type that isn't going to take kindly to such an affront.

Sam stammers an apology, the guy glares daggers and tells him to watch where he's going, and Dean instantly materialises at Sam's side, in belligerent, stand-my-ground mood. Sam wants to just brush it off and make a fast getaway, but Dean isn't so willing to back down, not with some random thug menacing his brother. Dean does have that obsessive need to protect Sam all the time, whether he actually needs protecting or not, and it kind of is his fault that Sam's here in the first place, what with the jail infiltration being Dean's idea and all.

The guy Sam walked into – let us call him Ponytail, for such he is wearing – does the whole "you talking to me" schtick, staring Dean down with those manic eyes of his, which – whoa to the casting people and random actor, because he really does look crazy.

Dean rolls his eyes. "Great, another guy who's seen Taxi Driver too many times. Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go."

Ponytail glares a little more and then walks away, and Sam uses his best defusing voice to try to get Dean out of there before anything else can happen.

"See, that's how you gotta talk to these guys. Instant respect." Dean's all pleased with himself for standing their ground like that. He's such a kid at times. And it is just totally in character that Sam would want to keep his head down and avoid drawing attention to himself, while Dean feels obliged to act tough and try to gain respect. He just can't stop himself rubbing people up the wrong way.

"You were saying?" says Sam, tightly, as just about every other inmate in the room starts to gather around, recognising a line drawn in the sand when they see one.

Dean sighs. "Oh great." And then fighting ensues. Ponytail punches him in the face; Dean rolls with the punch and gets his opponent into an arm lock, sticking to strictly defensive manoeuvres for the time being. "We can end this right now, no harm, no foul."

Ponytail's having none of it: fighting back and breaking the lock. Dean gets him into another hold, only for the guy to stamp on his foot and break free that way. So now, for the first time, Dean starts fighting offensively, as opposed to just fending the guy off, kicking him in the balls and following up with a knee to the nose.

That's the point where the prison guards finally arrive to break things up, and Ponytail is given a name at last: Lucas. The lead guard gets right up in Dean's face, pressing his baton up under Dean's chin to push his head back. "Not a good start," he warns. Sam's looking nervous, what with all this coming about because he wasn't looking where he was going, and because of not wanting to get into any of this in the first place, and even Dean isn't so cocky anymore.

Only later, when the other shoe has dropped, do you start to wonder how much of this was carefully stage-managed for the sake of appearances, and how much simply occurred spontaneously.

Lead Guard orders both Dean and Lucas into solitary, and they are led away, Dean recovering his composure to grin at Sam. "We having fun yet?"

Left alone with a room full of hostile inmates, Sam is not amused. Especially when one rather menacing looking guy in particular starts making cut-throat gestures toward him. Sam rolls his eyes and wishes he were any place but here.

Solitary confinement. Dean and Lucas languish in cells opposite one another. But hey, if they can see and speak to one another, it doesn't really count as 'solitary', does it? Dean sits on the floor of his cell, back against the wall, quiet and contemplative. For the most part in recent episodes, all his customary defence mechanisms that he was struggling to maintain earlier in the season seem to have been well and truly shored up now, his emotional armour rebuilt and firmly back in place. Most of the time. But when he's alone like this, you can still catch a hint of that I can't do this any more the crossroads demon accused him of in his eyes, and I really like the subtlety of moments these moments – it's what Hollywood Babylon was sorely lacking, with so much plot movement and so many extraneous guest character scenes to accommodate.

Dean isn't all that good at alone, so the silence doesn't last long, and that's another character detail that I really appreciate, that having got into a fight with this guy, he'd then try to strike up a conversation with him, no hard feelings, rather than sit there in silence. "I wish I had a baseball," he calls, apropos of nothing. Lucas appears at the door of his cell, eyes as manic as ever, wondering what on earth he's on about. Moving to peer through the little grille in his own door, Dean repeats his wish for a baseball. "You know, like Steve McQueen."

"Yeah? Well, I wish I had a bat. So I could bash your frickin' head in!" snarls Lucas, not inclined to provide relaxing company of any kind.

"Okay. So much for the bonding in solitary moment." Dean sits back down and prepares to be bored some more. He's really rocking the orange boiler suit look, it has to be said – it's all about the arms!

So much for boredom, too: the lights start flickering and the clock out in the hallway comes to a halt – which, how come even the clock has to have bars over it? Seriously? It's not like the clock is going to try to escape. Dean's professional instincts fire up immediately, especially when his breath turns to mist right in front of him, signalling the presence of a ghostly cold spot. Peering cautiously out at the hallway, Dean calls for Lucas to stay very still. Because protecting the innocent, even if they are convicted criminals, is what he's here for.

Ignoring the warning, Lucas wanders over to his own door to peer out, wondering what's going on. A ghostly face suddenly pops up right in front of him. Lucas staggers back, only for the ghost to now appear behind him. No escape. The veins in Lucas's face and neck bulge madly and he screams in agony.

Trapped in his own cell, Dean can only stew in his helplessness as he hears the man die. That's the downside of this plan – being locked up really restricts your movements in terms of lifesaving. And, given his current situation, locked up with no weapons or ghost repellent of any kind, Dean can probably count himself as extremely fortunate that the ghost didn't attack him.

Police station. Henrickson sits flicking through a file, his partner pottering idly around behind him. Mara Daniels arrives, wanting a word. "I've been going through the Winchester charges, and I have to say, there are some weird inconsistencies."

"Welcome to my world," says Henrickson. Heh. I'm glad to hear that he's at least noticed the bizarreness of the case against the boys, even if he isn't prepared to be the slightest bit open-minded about it.

Mara goes on that she talked to a cop in Baltimore who "swears up and down that these boys saved her life, and helped her catch a killer." It's so nice to have that little nod to Detective Diana back in The Usual Suspects. Mara goes on that one of the witnesses of the bank robbery in Milwaukee also says that Sam and Dean saved her life. That would be Sherri, and it's good to hear that she has made a statement in their defence, as for the longest time she believed the worst of them, and once she saw her shapeshifter double there was hardly enough time for a full explanation, so she's clearly been putting the pieces together for herself since then, or at least trying to.

Henrickson: "Saved her from what?"
Mara: "She's a little unclear on that."
Henrickson: "That's because she's nuts."

And there's a smidge of insight there into what happens to these people after the lifesaving has taken place and the boys have moved on – interrogation and disbelief. You either tell the truth as you saw it and have them all call you insane, or you keep it to yourself and have them think you're being uncooperative. Can't win.

Henrickson defensively states that he was in Milwaukee and spoke to all the witnesses. "All I know is that wherever these guys go, people die. It's that simple."

"I don't know that it is," Mara counters. "They just don't seem cut-and dried guilty to me." Is she getting that from her one brief interview with them, or from the evidence available? Probably a bit of both. Whatever her reasoning, she thinks there's more to it than Henrickson is willing to see, although she doesn't know what. "Can't put my finger on it. It's just…strange."

Yeah, and it's great to have someone fighting in the boys' corner – heaven knows they could do with a few more people on their side. But without all the facts to back up her defence, Mara's argument comes out sounding kind of weak, so its no wonder Henrickson is so unimpressed.

"The grown ups are trying to get some work done here, so if you don't mind…" Man, he's stone cold. Offence flares in Mara's eyes, but rather than argue any longer, she simply gathers up her briefcase and stalks out. She's not gonna forget his attitude in a hurry, though, and Henrickson's behaviour toward her can only make her all the more determined to figure the case out and defend her clients, surely.

The contrast of Henrickson and Mara is pretty well done, although Henrickson's pettiness in dealing with her does lose him a few points. Understandable, though, as his search for those elusive Winchester boys has clearly been driving him to distraction. It makes for an excellent contrast, though, his narrow-minded, black-and-white opinion versus her more open-minded approach, based on the same evidence.

Jail. Sam is busily mopping the toilet floor, along with a fellow inmate we will shortly realise is Randall from the teaser. "How you doin'?" Sam offers, as a conversation opener. Not that he has any reason to know that this man has information that could be useful to the case; he's just making conversation, because he's Sam.

Randall is incredulous. "I'm fifty-four years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows, how you think I'm doing?"
Sam takes the point. "All right. Bad ice-breaker."

He tries a simpler tactic, introducing himself, learns Randall's identity, and now realises who he is, that he was there the night the guard died and is a potentially valuable witness. Sliding effortlessly into interview mode, Sam perkily asks what happened.

Without much interest, Randall continues to mop as he drawls: "They say the stress of the job got him."
"What do you say?" Sam presses.
Randall turns and looks at him. Sam lifts an eyebrow, giving the older man his very best bright-eyed-innocent expression. Randall shrugs and turns away again. "Why are you inside, kid?"
"'Cause I got an idiot for a brother," Sam very truthfully tells him, rather than go into the whole 'breaking and entering and deliberately setting off the alarm' thing.
"That'll do it," Randall nods, and Sam can only sigh his agreement.

Amused now, Randall tell him that it isn't so bad in there – "compared to the old cellblock this is the damn Hilton." And just like that he's onto a topic Sam is only too keen to hear about. He presses for more information, and Randall smiles, describing himself as a 'regular customer'. Repeat offender, huh. So much for rehabilitation. It turns out that Randall was there the night Mark Moody died. Sam is delighted to hear this, and Randall is delighted to have such a rapt audience for his story.

Sam: "Heart attack, right?"
Randall: "Sure, his heart stopped right after the guards stopped using his head for batting practice."
Sam gapes, as this information puts a whole new spin on the case. Such is the value of striking up idle conversation with random fellow inmates. He is also rather appalled at the idea of a prisoner being beaten to death by the guards and no one saying anything about it.
Randall: "You kept your mouth shut unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack."
Randall, it turns out, was part of the detail set to mopping up the blood after Moody's 'heart attack'. Sam thinks about this for a moment, and then asks exactly how much blood there was.

Recreation yard. Dean is kicking ass at poker and earning himself a huge stash of cigarettes into the bargain. So many times we've been told of Dean's prowess at hustling, both poker and pool, but this is the first time we've ever seen him in operation, if only for the final moments. "It's a cruel game, my friend," he laughs as his defeated opponent stalks away.

This is two episodes in a row where the brothers have had to interact with large numbers of extraneous people in an enclosed and structured environment in order to work a job – normally they keep a very low profile while working, living quietly out of crappy motels and only interacting with the very few people who relate directly to that case. It's interesting to see them pushed out of that comfort zone.

Both times Dean has very quickly found his own level and established himself as just another one of the guys, needing to do so in order to build up contacts and 'currency', and being gregarious by nature even if life has taught him never to get too close. Sam, in contrast, has held himself very much aloof both times, unwilling to get involved or form connections on any kind of personal level, however trivial. That was a lesson hammered home by the Madison situation, one suspects, and it's still very fresh.

Dean: "It's like picking low-hanging fruit."
Sam: "You don't even smoke."
Dean: "Are you kidding me? This is the currency of the realm."

This is, apparently, the first time the brothers have seen each other since Dean got hauled off to solitary, and they quickly exchange their new information. Dean gets in first, and Sam is shocked to learn how close his brother came to the spirit.

Dean: "Flickering lights, clock stopped, cold spots – he did everything but yell boo."
Sam: "Well, what happened?"
Dean: "He walked right by me. Lucas wasn't so lucky; I mean the way he was screaming… Guy was a jerk, but he didn't deserve to go like that."

And just like that the cheerful cocky attitude we saw just seconds earlier is gone, utter seriousness about the job taking its place. So much of that public face is an act, and even Sam falls for it more often than not.

Sam offers his own news. "I think I might know where we might find his remains – blood in his old cell."
Dean is a little surprised to hear that, what with the cause of death being a heart attack, and all, so Sam elaborates with the story of the beating, how there was so much blood they had trouble mopping it all out.

Dean nods, accepts this lead as valid and solid, and wonders how they're going to get in.
"I got a plan," says Sam.
Dean beams. "That's the Sammy I know. Come on, man, you're like Clint Eastwood in Escape from Alcatraz."

But there's no fun in Sam at all, not under these circumstances, and not any time ever under any circumstances, these days. I could count on the fingers of one hand how many times we've seen him genuinely relaxed this season. Morose as ever, he continues that the trouble is, even if they can find the blood, he has no clue how they are going to burn it, what with having no accelerant or anything.

"It's a good thing I'm like James Garner from the Great Escape," Dean cheerfully tells him. Gathering up handfuls of his hard-won booty, he stands up and calls out to the other inmates, "Hey, fellas – who's ready to deal?"

Canteen. Dean and Sam stand in line to have their meal served. It's anaemic spaghetti once again.

Dean: "You sure about this?"
Sam: "Pretty sure."
Dean: "Yeah, well, considering the circumstances I'd like a little better than 'pretty sure'."
Sam: "Okay. Really pretty sure."

So – what unfolds next was all Sam's idea. Let us bear that in mind as Dean takes the lunch he isn't going to get to eat over to sit with the rather large and belligerent, much tattooed man known as Tiny, he who was making those throat-slitting gestures at Sam earlier.

"Save room for dessert, Tiny," Dean begins, very deliberately being as obnoxious as he knows how. This was Sam's idea, remember. Sam knows how good his brother is at pissing people off. "Hey, I couldn't help but notice that you are two tons of fun. Just curious – is that a thyroid problem, or some kind of deep-seated self-esteem issue? 'Cause, you know, they're just doughnuts, they're not love."

Sam, meanwhile, is lurking furtively over by the wall, just waiting for the diversion to take effect. It doesn't take long. Well and truly riled, Tiny lays into Dean with gusto, knocking him to the ground. Dean recovers and starts to fight back, although Tiny is big enough and tough enough that he proves hard to make much impression on, and in no time at all every eye in the room is glued on them, guards included. The first guard to weigh into the fight and try to pull Tiny off is easily pummelled to the ground by the big guy, so the others all rush over, and that's Sam's cue to move. With Dean being all but throttled, Tiny's arms clamped around his chest like a vice and squeezing hard, Sam quietly sneaks into the deserted kitchen. He helps himself to some salt that's rather handily lying around, and proceeds on into a ventilation shaft that even more handily promises to provide access to any part of the building he chooses to visit.

Surely he'll have to be quick, though, as a headcount would soon show him to be missing, and then a search and major repercussions would be sure to follow. And how does he plan to get back without being seen? Also, shouldn't there be someone in the kitchen, or have they all gone off to watch the fight? I mean, if it were this easy to get into the vents, surely there would be prisoners escaping all the time! There's no way a prisoner should be able to roam around this freely, no matter how low security the jail.

Anyway. Back in the canteen, the combined effort of the guards finally releases Dean from Tiny's stranglehold, and he collapses to the ground, wheezing. One of the guards hauls him back to his feet, and Lead Guard from earlier grabs hold of his chin to have a look at the bruises, the two of them sharing a moment of eye contact that means nothing at the moment, but suddenly takes on new meaning later on when the plot is revealed. It's fairly subtly done.

"We'd waited any longer you'd be dead," Lead Guard dryly notes.
"You waited long enough," Dean rasps, receiving another heavy blow to the stomach for his trouble.
"Do yourself a favour: don't talk," Lead Guard snaps. And that pretty much establishes for the benefit of anyone watching that there is no love lost between Dean and this guard. Dean and Tiny are both sent off to the infirmary, and let us remember again that this was Sam's plan. Did he anticipate such a bruising, rib-crushing encounter for his brother, we wonder, or did he simply say 'go forth and distract' and leave Dean to improvise as he went along? Dean running interference for Sam in this way is a plan that would suit both of them, though. Dean's got nothing to lose gaining a reputation for belligerence while in jail, and I can well imagine that he'd much rather him than Sam.

Ventilation shaft. A rather dusty Sam clambers nimbly down and out into the old cellblock, which may have been reopened, but doesn't seem to actually be in use yet. There's thirty years worth of dereliction still to repair. It'd probably be more cost-effective to just pull it down and rebuild from scratch. Apparently having all the relevant facts at his fingertips, Sam quickly finds the appropriate room and starts poking around.

Rather gruesomely, Sam quickly comes across an old and very manky mattress, which unfolds to reveal a thirty-year-old bloodstain. You'd think the thug guards who killed Mark Moody would have wanted such damning evidence safely disposed of. Out comes the purloined salt, along with a lighter, presumably acquired by Dean via the poker, which provides accelerant. In no time at all the mattress is ablaze, and I seriously expected there to at least be some comment about the fire in later scenes, if not a panic-stricken evacuation, but no. The fire goes completely un-remarked upon. Did Sam hang around to put it out safely, as well?

Infirmary. It's very large and bare, and empty of all occupants but Dean and Tiny, in adjoining cages. Literally cages, and man are those tiny spaces within which to confine injured prisoners. So that's what prison hospitals look like. Talk about claustrophobia. Through the translucent divider between cages, we can see Tiny's hulking build, sat with his back to the wall. Dean lounges on the bed with his head in his hands, thoughtful and hurting, another of those quiet moments when he can let the act slide a little. Nice makeup job and nice acting, as his bruised face looks really painful. We've seen before, many times, that Dean isn't so fond of silence or aloneness unless he's in a really bad way, so it doesn't take him long to start talking to the guy he just used so shamelessly as a distraction for Sam.

Dean: "Hey, sorry about the things I was saying earlier. I can't really tell you why, but I had to get you angry. So, uh, anyway – sorry."

I like that he apologises, so freely and genuinely. And Tiny likes that he apologises, too. "It's okay. Truth is, I have low self-esteem issues."

Dean looks kinda startled that the big tough guy would start sharing like this, but hey, he opened the door of the conversation. Maybe it's easier for a guy like Tiny to talk when it's just the two of them and they can't see each other – he'd never open up like this out in the general mess of the jail. Maybe having someone talk to him like a person is something Tiny's needed for a long time, and never received, seen only as a giant slab of muscle by inmates and guards alike. Then again, he could just be the kind who likes to tell his troubles to anyone who'll listen.

So, Tiny continues, now he's started. "My old man treated me and my brother like crap, right up to the day he died."
Dean: "How'd he die?"
Tiny: "My brother shot him."

Yikes. In that very short story there are so many contrasts and parallels to the Winchester family – dysfunction takes many forms.

Then all of a sudden Dean spots something alarming – away on the other side of the infirmary stands the ghostly figure of a woman. Not Moody after all. "Oh crap," he mutters, and Tiny wonders what's wrong.

Dean looks at the ghost; the ghost looks at Dean. And then she starts walking toward him, right through the fixtures and fittings. Trapped in his tiny little cage, while Tiny again wonders what's going on, Dean starts frantically casting about for anything that might possibly repel a spirit, finally landing on the little salt pot that came with his lunch tray.

The ghost flings Dean into the wall, as they all inevitably do, and he drops to the floor, winded. Tiny again calls to ask what's wrong, but Dean can't answer as the ghost is upon him, hand pressing down on his chest, right over the heart. Always the heart, huh. Dean keeps his head, despite the pain, and manages to pop the lid off his teeny little salt pot and fling the contents at her. It isn't much, but it's enough to dispel the spirit. Released, Dean curls in on himself, clutching at his abused chest.

Screaming from the adjacent cage quickly brings him back to his feet, yelling for Tiny as the ghost attacks him, too, and then yelling for the guards to come and help, all to no avail. That's the second ghost-related death Dean has witnessed in as many days.

Recreation yard. Sam is dismayed to learn that, after all his efforts, the ghostly perpetrator wasn't Moody after all.

Dean: "Not unless he liked going around dressed as a nurse. Poor Tiny, man. Poor, giant Tiny."

I really like how focused Dean is on the senseless loss of life caused by this ghost; no matter how criminal or otherwise the victims might be, he sees them as individuals who deserved better. While Dean regrets the loss of another life that he was unable to prevent, Sam sticks firmly to the central point – that the prison is still haunted, by what seems to be the ghost of a nurse.

Dean: "I don't know, I guess."
Sam: "Dean, you know, at this point 'I don't know, I guess' isn't really working for me. See, uh, I thought we were done. I called Deacon, it's happening – we're getting out tonight."

Now, Prison Break made one little escape take an entire season – 22 episodes of plotting and effort. That was maximum security, mind, whereas this is a low security county jail for remand prisoners and minor offences. You'd still think that escaping would be a little harder than is being made out.

Focused on the victims still, Dean mildly remarks that they'll have to do some quick research. Sam, on the other hand, remains wholly focused on their situation above all else. Since he believed the job to be done, and already arranged with Deacon to get them out, they have very little time in which to find the real ghost, and here his patience simmers over once again. "How? I mean maybe you haven't noticed – we're in jail!"

Later, still in the recreation yard. Sam has brought Dean over to talk to Randall, in hopes that he'll know something about the nurse. Randall wonders why they want to know, and Dean evades that question by offering an incentive – a packet of cigarettes. Currency of the realm.

Randall takes the bribe and starts talking. He recognises the description Dean gives him, easily enough. Dean asks if he remembers the name, but Randall cheerfully evades that it's still kinda fuzzy. Dean gives him a hard look, reluctant to play this game.

Sam rolls his eyes with a wry smile. "Give it to him."
"I earned these," Dean protests. Heh. His reluctance to part with his hard-earned cash for bribes – whatever form that currency might be taking – is so consistent, and so is Sam's willingness to bribe away to his heart's content if it gets the information they need. Easy come, easy go. We've never once seen or heard of Sam hustling pool or poker to earn cash, though – always Dean, supporting them both.

Sam can't quite believe the prevarication, so Dean gives in and hands over another packet. And it's a cute little character moment.

Nurse Glockner is the name Randall gives for the nurse Dean saw – worked at the jail in the 70s. "I met her once. Gave me a tetanus shot – she damn near shoved the needle through the other side of my arm. Least I got out of there alive."

It seems that there were a lot of stories going around back then. "Cons love to talk, but we're all liars," Randall snorts. Guys would go up to the infirmary with a cold, he explains, and come out in a bodybag. There was a whole rash of heart attacks, guys of all ages. "Story was Glockner had it out for cons, and she did this, uh, kind of Charles Bronson thing with a hypodermic. Anyway, that was the rumour, nobody ever proved anything."

However, Randall doesn't know what happened to Glockner – he finished that particular stretch, and by the time he next landed himself inside she was gone. So much for that lead, then.

Canteen. Dean and Sam very quietly discuss the case so far. Assuming that the stories about Glockner were true, it fits the profile of the haunting – a vigilante in life, in death the same thing. But just how she is connected to the cellblock, and why she'd kill the guard if her targets had always been cons…these details remain a mystery. At least until Dean remembers that he'd heard in the yard that the guard who died wasn't exactly squeaky clean, and hypothesises that, rather than just convicts, she's going after anyone who breaks the law. "Like me."

Dean really is identifying strongly with the other inmates. After all, his own circumstances prove how easy it is to end up on the wrong side of the law, and how hard it is to turn that around, and his inclinations don't exactly tend toward law-abiding. Sam hasn't failed to notice.

Sam: "You 'heard in the yard'?"
Dean: "Yeah."
Sam: "Dean, does it bother you at all how easily you seem to fit in here?"
Dean: "No, not really."

I feel I can't let this scene go by without mentioning the rather fine view we are given of two sets of bare arms. Mmmmm.

Sam returns to the point, that they need more information about Glockner – how she died, where she was buried, and so on. And they've only got five hours to get it. "No, no, don't give me that look. Don't give me that 'we've got to see this through' look, we are leaving tonight, no matter what."

Dean: "I just don't want to let Deacon down, that's all. We do owe him."
Sam: "Yeah, but we don't owe him our lives, Dean."

Dean doesn't actually look convinced about that. This guy saved John's life, and clearly the way Dean sees it is that as John's sons they've inherited that debt, and it's a big one. Seeing it through is something he very much wants to do, for his Dad's friend and for his Dad. He jumps up, and Sam wonders where he's going. "I'm going to go talk with our lawyer."

So…the lawyer is on call at any time? Surely it isn't that quick and easy to arrange a visit!

Visitor's room. As if by magic, Mara is there and talking to Dean via those little telephones they use. And she's rather incredulous at what he's asking – for her to conduct a little research on one Nurse Glockner, who used to work at the jail – most importantly how she died and where she is buried.

I really like Dean's conversation here with Mara, trying to persuade her to help with the research but without being able to give her a good explanation as to why. As with Detective Diana in The Usual Suspects and Kathleen in The Benders, Dean recognises Mara as a potential ally, as opposed to the flat-out enmity with Henrickson. Some authority figures are a lot more open-minded than others. But turning a potential ally into an actual ally without being able to admit the truth is a delicate balancing act.

Actually, I seem to really like all the Dean scenes. Maybe I should've just said that at the start and not bothered to explain why!

Mara: "Are you nuts? Do you have any idea the kind of trouble you're in here?"
Dean: "I have a vague notion."

The defence attorney assigned to Dean in The Usual Suspects asked much the same thing, and received much the same response. They just can't conceive that the legalities simply aren't important to him, beyond the sheer inconvenience, because he has his own ways of getting around those, that he has his own agenda going on over and above his current situation.

Mara wants to forget about the random nurse and talk about the case. Dean moves from requesting her help onto sweet-talking and cajoling. "Mara. It's Mara, right? I get that you're trying to help me, I do. But believe me when I say that this is the best way that you can help me."

From where Mara's sitting, it still sounds insane, so she demands to be told exactly how this will help. Dean tells her he wishes he could, but he can't. "You're just going to have to trust me on this."

"Why should I?" Mara wants to know. "Henrickson says you're a monster."
Oh, and he reacts to that. "I'm a monster?" And a little laugh of disbelief, because he's devoted his entire life to saving people from things they don't even know exist, and this is his reward. "Well, he's wrong, okay?" is all the defence he can muster. "I'm not what they say I am.
"Everybody says that," says Mara.

"Yeah." Dean's looking a little bleak now, maybe seeing that these legal issues really are going to follow him around for the rest of his life, however long or short that might be, and there's nothing he can do about it, no way to clear his name or to stop people like Henrickson assuming the worst about him automatically, no benefit of the doubt whatsoever. It isn't a game, no matter how much he tries to act like it is. "Look," he tries. "If you're as smart a PD as I think you are, you can tell with just one look whether or not your clients are guilty, okay? Just like that. So I want you to look at me, really look, and you tell me: am I guilty?"

Such faith he has in the innocence of his own eyes, and that's in spite of all those nasty-looking Tiny-inflicted bruises. Mara looks. Dean meets her eyes unflinchingly. "We're not the bad guys," he insists. But will she be convinced?

Recreation yard. Sam wanders along looking shifty. He does that a lot. Seeing Dean coming out fresh from his meeting with Mara, he heads over to meet him. "Did she go for it?"
"No," Dean admits. "Not so much. But, uh, maybe she'll still come around."
"Well we can't wait around to find out," Sam insists.

Dean protests that they could give it another day, but Sam firmly stands his ground – they are leaving tonight, and that's it.

"So we're not going to finish the job, we're just going to let these people die?" Dean opts for emotional blackmail in an attempt to get his way.
"Don't give me that," Sam snips, all never wanted to do this in the first place indignation. "This was your stupid plan, and I went along with it, but we're sticking to the plan, Dean."
"Okay," Dean suggests. "You leave, I'm gonna stay."

He turns and starts to walk away, whereupon Sam rather more loudly shouts not to turn away from him. Dean snaps a surly "screw you", Sam grabs at him, Dean shoves him away, and then the guards descend to prevent another fight breaking out, while viewers start to ponder just what's going on here. Bickering is normal enough, but brawling isn't the brothers' usual style, so…

"Sorry, hard case," Lead Guard snarls into Dean's ear. "I see the usual methods aren't going to work with you. You, too, sweetheart," he adds to Sam, and the two of them are cuffed and hauled away.

Inside. The brothers are hauled into a large, mostly empty room – some kind of exercise room? It's hard to make out, what with it being so minimalist in furnishings. Lead Guard tells his underling to take off, as he wants to handle this alone. It's all terribly ominous, as the room is vacated, leaving the three of them alone. And then the other shoes drops as Lead Guard breaks out into an enormous grin.

"Deacon, you are beating the holy hell out of me, man," says Dean, as his Dad's old friend gives him an affectionate cuff to turn him around so he can get the handcuffs off.
"Sorry, Dean, I thought I was going easy on you," says Deacon, affably enough. "Just, uh, trying to make it look real."
"Well, mission accomplished," Dean tells him. And that, of course, is why Deacon has been giving him such a hard time from the start – plausible deniability in preparation for the escape.

Deacon asks if it's over, case closed, and Sam rather apologetically has to admit that it isn't – that the spirit wasn't Moody, that the suspect now is Nurse Grockner, but that they are still shy on all the intel they need.

"Which is why we should stick around until we find it," Dean growls.
"You wanna have this fight for real, Dean?" snarls an infuriated Sam. "We've gotta go, Dean, we've gotta go now."
"Guys." Deacon tries to interrupt.
"We're leaving, Dean! Or we'll be leaving in shackles for Milwaukee with Henrickson and his company," Sam all but yells.
"Oh come on," Dean protests.
"Guys," Deacon interrupts again
They both turn on him with an exasperated joint: "What?"
Ah, how I've missed the jinxes this season.

Deacon looks from one to the other with great amusement now he has their attention, and I love him for that little gesture alone, and then he hands over a note from their lawyer.

Um. Didn't Dean only just come from his meeting with Mara? How on earth has she had time to go away, decide to accede to his crazy request, carry out the research, and get the information back to him in that time? Or did Dean wander off and find himself something else to do for a few hours before heading out to let Sam know how the meeting went? The timing is kind of weird here.

Dean laughs with delight. "Would you look at that, I am frickin' velvety smooth."
"You want to maybe open it up after you're done patting yourself on the back?" Sam suggests.
Ignoring him, Dean reads the letter with a little "whoa," that he shows no inclination toward elaborating on.
Sam sighs. "You want to share with the class, Dean?"

The bickering banter between the brothers is the best part of this episode; it flows so smoothly and feels so natural. They haven't always been so comfortable and at ease with one another this season, and this here despite differing opinions about the case itself.

It turns out that Glockner died in the old cellblock shortly after Moody. "Seems they had a little inmate uprising, she got caught in the middle, they dragged her to a solitary cell, gave her a severe cerebral oedema." Kinda like the one Dean almost died of back at the start of the season, I guess.
"Someone bashed her head in," Sam translates.

The note also says where she's buried, which is all the information they need, which means they are now free to get on with the escape, as Sam has been itching to do for so long now, no more heel dragging from Dean. Convenient timing, huh – that Mara's a fast researcher, I'll give her that.

"All right, then," Deacon concludes. "Let's get you the hell out of here." He heads for a handy nearby air vent, and removes the cover, as Dean assures him that they will get rid of this thing. Deacon is glad to hear it – he wants that thing out of his prison. And here again, standing side by side, Sam is towering over his brother once more. Funny how he looks so much taller than Dean in some scenes than others.

"I can't thank you enough for this," Deacon adds by way of farewell. "I know I was asking a lot, but you still came through. Your Daddy raised you right."

That's a nice contrast there to Henrickson's opinion of how John raised his sons.

"Well, we owed you," says Sam, who seems to finally be getting it, or at least paying lip service to the obligation. Dean looks quietly proud at Deacon's words, and pleased to hear Sam's.

And the point is that they need people like this, a network of contacts they can rely on, that spider's web of loyalty and obligation – it's what people in their line of work have to have to fall back on in case of need, lacking any other ties. It's a big part of why the contact with Ellen has been maintained in spite of everything. They go to shake hands, and Deacon pulls both into a bear hug instead. Because they can hug a virtual stranger, but not each other.

I still want to hear more mention of John's other old contacts, the ones that didn't die last season – like Jefferson, mentioned in Asylum, or Joshua, who put Sam onto the faith healer in Faith.

"I'll be seeing you…just not in here, okay," says Deacon, to the amusement of both, and then they take off into that ventilation shaft for the long crawl to freedom. Because escaping from jail is that easy, apparently. They start to, anyway…but then Dean turns back and asks Deacon where he wants it. Deacon wryly points to his chin. "Make it look real, son."

Dean smiles, and punches.

Outside. Dean and Sam climb down the fire escape to find the Impala waiting for them. Easiest jail break ever – surely if it was that easy everyone would be doing it – even if the jail is relatively low security, being mostly for prisoners on remand or convicted of minor offences, rather than the real hard cases. I guess the escape itself really isn't the point of the episode.

"Are you a sight for sore eyes," Dean croons to his baby, and after almost two full episodes without so much as a glimpse of her, fans are inclined to agree, although they are also minded to wonder just how she got there. Presumably she was hidden carefully before the arrest, to avoid having her impounded, and Deacon moved her there later ready for the escape.

"You know, I almost wish I could see Henrickson's face," Dean enthuses as they begin to strip off their rather fetching prison issue jackets.
"Really? 'Cause I'd be happy if we never saw him again," Sam snips. "I mean we're not really out of the woods yet, Dean, you know."

Such a prophet Sam is, for at that moment the alarm starts to blare loudly on the other side of the wall, prompting the boys to quickly pull their jackets back on, the better to hide those hard-to-miss bright orange boiler suits, leap into the car, and speed away.

Interview room. Deacon sullenly defends himself to a furious Henrickson, who is not best pleased about the escape of his prize prisoners. Probably should have kept a closer watch on them, really, rather than entrusting them to such a low security jail. I mean, he knew how clever and well trained they are, how good they've already proved to be at escaping from seemingly impossible situations. He was right there in Milwaukee. Anyway, he's angry with Deacon for letting the Winchesters get the drop on him, but doesn't seem to see any reason to suspect that the man might have helped them in any way, which is good. He wants to know where they are headed. Deacon bemusedly wonders how the hell he is supposed to know.

Henrickson is frustrated, and demands to know everything they did today from the minute they woke up. Deacon resentfully recites the bare bones of a typical day in the life of a remand prisoner. Henrickson is interested to learn that Dean met with the lawyer – gives him another target to shout at.

Police station. "It's an easy question – what did you and Dean talk about?" Henrickson demands of Mara. She insists that it was a private conversation between her and her client – Henrickson has already pissed her off way too much for her to be even a tiny bit inclined to be cooperative now, even if she wasn't already minded to feel supportive of these particular clients. Ticked that Dean escaped just three hours after the conversation – again, Mara really did get that research done fast, and you've got to wonder why it took so long for Dean to join Sam out in the recreation yard after speaking to her – Henrickson continues to insist that she tell him everything.

Cemetery. Now back in their nice, anonymous civvies, Dean and Sam gear up for a salt'n'burn. I find myself wondering if they'll burn the orange boiler suits, ditch them someplace to lay a false trail, or keep them as souvenirs. Sam anxiously notes that they'll have to move fast in case Henrickson gets to the lawyer. Dean assumes that she won't be able to say anything because of the client privilege thing, but Sam points out that the privilege doesn't apply. Ah, it isn't often that Sam gets to demonstrate his pre-law training. Stanford must seem like a lifetime ago, so much has happened since. Dean is alarmed at the thought that Mara might talk.

Police station. Henrickson threatens to charge Mara with aiding and abetting if she refuses to cooperate. This does nothing to improve her mood, but Henrickson shouts loud and long and is as intimidating as he knows how to be, and he is slowly wearing her down. She's clearly not all that experienced, and he's got her between a rock and a hard place – why should she stick her neck on the block for a couple of random clients who look, from the FBI's point of view, to be as guilty as hell, even if all the facts don't add up?

So, Mara 'fesses up to the research she did on Dean's behalf regarding Nurse Glockner's death in 1976. Henrickson is taken aback, not knowing what on earth to make of this. No wonder this case is driving him mad, he's just not equipped to understand any part of it, viewing the brother's actions from the outside, from a distance, and through blinkers. He presses some more, and Mara reluctantly adds that they'd also asked her to find out where Glockner was buried. Henrickson wants to know if she told them, and Mara admits that she did. And they've got grave desecration on the rap sheet, so that they would go to the cemetery isn't such a huge leap to make. Henrickson leans in close and asks her to tell him.

Mountainside Cemetery. A whole circus of police vehicles speed on in.

Graveside. In a startling reversal of their usual practice, Dean stands wielding the flashlight while Sam finishes the digging. Maybe it's penance for his jail salt'n'burn plan resulting in a trip to the infirmary for Dean. Unsurprisingly, both seem rather anxious to hurry this along as fast as possible.

Police. The SWAT team starts to fan out in search of their suspects.

Graveside. Sam's reached the coffin at last.

Jail. Deacon splashes cold water over his face in the men's room. It's been a long day. On the wall behind him, the clock stops in ominous fashion. Glockner likes to punish wrongdoers, and Deacon just helped two prisoners escape from jail. That totally puts him in the firing line, what with Lucas, Tiny and Dean having previously been targeted just for brawling. Deacon doesn't notice the clock, but he does notice the flickering lights and cold spot, and he knows enough to be alarmed.

It'd be interesting to know just how much Deacon knows about the ghost business. He obviously knew enough to recognise that the jail was haunted, and to get in touch with John's sons to sort it out, but not enough to be able to handle the matter himself. So does the world of Winchesterly contacts divide neatly into 'fellow hunters' and 'non-hunters in the know'? Or is it more complicated than that?

Deacon turns around – and there's Nurse Glockner in all her decaying glory. She flings him right across that wide, open space that is the men's room and onto the floor.

Mountainside Cemetery. The SWAT team, led by Henrickson, makes its stealthy way amid the headstones.

Graveside. Sam and Dean salt the bones and douse them liberally with accelerant.

Jail. Glockner lays her hands on Deacon's chest, hissing: "you let those two go," just in case anyone hadn't worked out what his crime was. Deacon writhes in agony.

Graveside. Sam does the honours and drops a lighted match into the grave – that's Sam's second salt'n'burn in one episode.

Jail. Deacon is released just in the nick of time, as Glockner staggers backward, bursts into flame, and vanishes in a puff of smoke. Gasping, Deacon is left to reflect on his narrow escape.

Graveside. Sam looks sombre as he watches the bones burn. So does Dean. Salt'n'burns just don't have the same relish these days, not since they burned their Dad. And that's a nice, subtle little detail.

The SWAT team continues to fan out through the cemetery, but they've reached the other side, and they haven't found any sign of their quarry. Henrickson turns to his partner. "You're sure this is the right damn cemetery?"
Reedy nods. "She said Mountainside. Mountainside Cemetery."

Green Valley Cemetery. Dean and Sam scurry back to the Impala. Fans cheer at the thought of Mara lying for their sake, buying them the time they needed to finish the job and make a clean getaway, whether she did it because she truly believes in their innocence, because Henrickson pissed her off so much, or a little of both.

Office. Mara steps outside and heads to her car, looking quietly pleased with herself. Whatever her reasons, she believes she did the right thing. We aren't given much insight into Mara in this episode, just an inexperienced PD who ends up lying on behalf of her clients to help them escape. It'd be interesting to see her again, to find out if there's more to her – if there were specific reasons she was so willing to read between the lines of the case, or if it was sheer gut instinct.

Mountainside. Henrickson can't believe the Winchester boys have done this to him again, torn between anger and admiration. His obsession with hunting them down once and for all can only grow from here on in – not just a job, this is getting personal now.

Green Valley. Dean and Sam stow their gear in the trunk, and share another of those brief but heartfelt moments of eye contact, non-verbal communication speaking more loudly than words, and then head for their respective sides of the car – Dean to the driver's side, and Sam the passenger door.

We haven't seen Sam drive the Impala all season, and the only time we've even heard mention of him driving the car was when he was possessed. That could mean that he hasn't driven the car since that semi ploughed into it at the end of last season. Is that deliberate, a subtle nod to the trauma of being at the wheel for such a devastating 'accident', or to Dean's possessiveness of his rebuilt baby? Or is it not meant to be the slightest bit significant that we've not seen Sam behind the wheel in nineteen episodes, despite the driving being so much more shared out last year?

"Thought we were screwed before," says Sam as they get in.
"Hell yeah, I know," Dean sombrely acknowledges. "We gotta go deep this time."
"Deep, Dean? We should go to Yemen," snorts Sam.
"Ooh, I'm not sure I'm ready to go that deep," is all Dean can muster up by way of humour.

Grim, they get into the car and speed away, leaving the flames of Nurse Glockner's impromptu barbeque flickering behind the bushes in their wake.

And the legal situation the boys are stuck in looks set to run and run – hopefully into a third season!


May 2007

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