"We both want the same thing, here."

Wow, this one is dark: dark and meaty, and really quite overwhelming in its intensity. I've struggled to pin down my reaction to it, simply because there is so much to react to packed into the episode!

The pacing and plotting of episodes have been somewhat of a concern since the show returned from strike-induced hiatus, since what should have been ten episodes to round up all the ongoing plot strands and tie up various loose ends have had to be compacted into just four – or rather, three, since Ghostfacers was almost complete before the strike. Everyone concerned with the show – writers, actors and production team – has worked wonders to produce such strong episodes as they have. But still, this last couple of episodes have felt a little rushed, both in the sense of trying to fit huge chunks of development into too few episodes, and in the sense of being hurried into production before all the kinks and plot holes have been ironed out. The episodes have been great, but it is a shame we'll never get to see how amazing the second half of the season might have been if it had been full length and without any interruption.

"I've got a year to live, Sam. I'd like to make the most of it. So what do you say we kill some evil sons of bitches and we raise a little hell."

Then.

Sam failed to tell Dean that the 'big new up-and-comer' of the demon world was out for his blood. Ruby spilled the beans instead, naming this demon as Lilith.

Colt-wielding Sam confronted the red-eyed crossroads demon in an attempt to get Dean out of his crossroads deal. Red Eyes revealed that another, more powerful demon, held the contract, not her. Sam shot her dead.

Bela Talbot stole the Colt from the Winchester brothers. Dean assumed she would simply sell it to the highest bidder, but Bela snipped that he knew nothing about her.

Dean finally managed to say out loud that he didn't want to die and go to hell. Sam promised to find a way to save him.

Dean later confessed just how scared he was, deciding that the only person who could get him out of his deal was himself. "And me," Sam added, a resolute statement of solidarity.

Now.

Erie, Pennsylvania. Cristal Spa & Raquet Club. A very arty shot swings around from a sideways view of a covered walkway to reveal two men wandering toward their cars, chattering about work. Reaching the car park, they go their separate ways. There's a nifty aerial shot of Man#1 opening the trunk of his car and dumping his bag inside. With Man#2 having driven off already, someone creeps up behind Man#1, hiding in the bushes. He hears a twig break, and swings around to take a look, but can't see anyone. He turns his attention back to the bag he just dumped in the trunk of his car. A shot from beneath the car reveals a second pair of legs fast approaching. Man#2 is grabbed from behind and shoved into his own trunk, locked in, and driven away by his unknown assailant, yelling and hammering on the trunk the whole way.

Hospital. Man#1 staggers barefoot and all-but-naked down a hallway, dripping blood and clutching at the coat that's wrapped around him, bloody hands pressed tight against a wound to the abdomen. A well-meaning nurse comes to his aid, prising his hands away from the wound despite his protests. We don't see what happens, but our imaginations do all the work for us as we hear the sound of stitches popping open and the man's intestines falling out. The nurse begins to screech with horror.

Titles.

House. Dean throws holy water in the face of a captive demon, which bellows, and demands to know if it is ready to talk. The demon insists that it doesn't know anything. Dean mocks this assertion, with Sam the straight man backing him up. Dean pouts holy water right down the demon's throat, and it spits and gurgles and steams.

Remember when the brothers first encountered a demon, in Phantom Traveler? They've become a lot more ruthless since those days, of necessity. Once upon a time they would have just exorcised this man and have done with it. Now, though, the demon inhabiting his body is a potentially valuable source of information. Given Dean's straitened circumstances, the harshness of the interrogation is necessary but still something new. We haven't seen this level of ruthlessness in an exorcism since Meg in Devil's Trap, and back then Sam held back, reluctant. Here, he is every bit as invested in the process and desired outcome as Dean. They are both under enormous stress.

Dean repeats the question that has been the main focus of this little interrogation. "Who holds my contract?"

The demon lifts his head, eyes black as coal, and smiles an evil smile. "Your mother," he grits, and pauses just long enough for us all to wonder if he might actually be telling the truth, given what we learned in All Hell Breaks Loose and The Magnificent Seven about Mary's connection with the Yellow-Eyed Demon. "Yeah, she showed it to me, right before I bent her over," the demon finishes with a smirk, revealing this to simply be a sick, cruel joke.

Dean reacts pretty much like you'd expect him to, with cold, focused fury, demanding a name. The demon is unimpressed, and scoffs in crude fashion, knowing that beyond the holy water Dean doesn't have much in the way of weaponry to use against him. "That's like a flea bite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon who holds your ticket."

The framing in this scene is beautiful. Charles Beeson directed the episode, and he's done a really lovely job.

Dean looks pained as he absorbs the realisation that this potential lead has, like all the others before it, turned out to be a bust. An equally grin-faced Sam meets his eyes, is given the tiniest of nods, and launches into an exorcism.

"Go ahead, send me back to hell," the demon taunts. "'Cause when you get there I'll be waiting for you, with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet'n'greet with Dean Winchester."

The demon laughs. Not taking his eyes off the demon, Sam quietly asks if he should go ahead. Also keeping his eyes on the demon, Dean firmly tells his brother to send it someplace where it can't hurt anybody else. But oh man, his face. Sam starts Latinating again the second Dean gives the go ahead. He must be so, so fed up of exorcisms.

Standing behind his brother, so that Sam can't see his face, Dean has to look away, just for a second, and catch his breath. He knows what this means, that he is storing up all the more agony for himself in the hereafter – surely every demon he's ever exorcised will likewise be waiting for him – but still he presses ahead with what he knows to be right regardless, rather than release this demon into the world to hurt other people. Oh, Dean. Big damn hero. He looks almost sick with dread.

More of this kind of thing, a slow build-up to the conclusion of Dean's deal woven around the cases, is what we have been robbed of with those 6 lost episodes.

Also, here we encounter the first and greatest of the plot niggles inherent to this episode, as the last episode implied that Dean's time was very nearly up to within a matter of days, and therefore it would follow that this episode should be even closer to the deadline, possibly the first instalment of a two-part finale dealing with those last days and hours. However, this turns out not to be the case, and on first viewing therefore requires something of a mental readjustment.

Later. It looks very much as if the brothers are squatting again. Sam is on the phone, impersonating a police officer, asking about some fingerprints that have been run someplace. Something about what he learns from this call appears to please him immensely. As he finishes the call, Dean shuffles in from burial detail. The host body evidently did not survive the interrogation and exorcism, and the brothers are getting worryingly casual about the disposal of such victims. Remember when Dean was so disgusted with Gordon for his wanton disregard of human life when he told the story of a girl who didn't survive his interrogation and exorcism of her? Dean does remark here that the demons seem to be wearing out their host bodies just for kicks, which implies that this man died as a result of whatever the demon did to his body while inhabiting it, rather than as a result of the exorcism. I'm sure the interrogation session didn't help, though, and it all adds to a general sense that compassion of earlier seasons has been lost. The boys have become desensitised to the collateral damage, and it is only fitting that we mourn for that loss of innocence.

Dean asks what Sam's phone call was all about. Sam asks if he remembers 'that thing' that was in the paper yesterday. "Stripper suffocates dude with thighs?" is Dean's predictably glib response. The other thing, Sam patiently prompts. Dean nods and reels off the tale of the guy who walked into the ER with his stomach ripped out. His liver, Sam corrects, and he's remarkably perky, under the circumstances. We don't know it yet, but Sam has already pieced together the evidence of this new case he's unearthed, and come to a conclusion that is allowing him to hope, for the first time in months. This hope positively transforms him, and he has to dissemble like mad to divert his brother's attention from that fact, and to steer him in the direction he wants them to go.

Sam explains that he just found out something interesting: the dead body was covered with bloody fingerprints, not his own. Dean is not especially impressed. Sam elaborates: "Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981."

Dean's interest is finally piqued, and the conclusion he reaches, based on what Sam has told him, is zombie, but he is curious. "What do you care about zombies? […] We've been on soul-saving detail for months now, and we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden you're interested in some hot zombie action?"

Three weeks until Dean's crossroads deal comes due. I already touched on the screwed up timeline, so let us now look at it in more detail. In Ghostfacers we were told, out loud, as part of the script, that it was February 29th and that Dean had two months left to live. Depending on how much that two-month estimate was rounding up or down, that should take us to the end of April or early May. This in turn ties in with the Season Two Companion, in which we are told that Sam was brought back to life on 2nd May, his 24th birthday.

Then in Long Distance Call last week we saw a computer printout bearing the date 26th April, which should have been just days before Dean's deal came due. But now we learn that there are still three weeks to go, which places the episode back in early-mid April, before that on-screen date in Long Distance Call. And then later in this episode, we see a receipt dated 11th June – which should be a full month or more after the deal comes due, whichever way you slice it! It is all very taxing on our poor brains.

I'm inclined to blame these discrepancies on the production and props department being rushed, and therefore a little sloppy, and forgetting just how hung up fans tend to get on these details. But there is no excuse for thinking that no one will notice, for not realising, in this day and age, that any and everything written on those props will be blown up in screenshots and analysed to death! So, ultimately, I think we should go with the dates that were spoken out loud – 29th February and two months to go in Ghostfacers, three weeks to go and therefore early April as of this episode. We'll just have to disregard the dodgy props, with regret.

"Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung-ho to hunt," Sam shrugs, spinning his brother the line he's most likely to buy. "I just thought I'd be doing you a favour."

"No, no, no. I didn't say I don't want to do it," Dean backpeddles. He can't not accept the diversion Sam is offering: some tangible good to do in the time he has left, working a case, keeping his mind off his fate and the failure of every deal-breaking avenue they've explored. It's a reaction Sam was counting on to distract his brother from any deeper inquiry into his motivations. "Hey, I mean obviously I wanna hunt some zombies."

But he couldn't look less enthusiastic about it if he tried. I guess its one thing for Dean to drag Sam away from soul-saving detail when he needs the distraction, but another for Sam to abandon that vital work in favour of a side trip. Sam, though, Sam looks excited about it, pleased at having talked his brother into doing this, which should be a warning that he's got something up his sleeve.

Morgue. The guy who played Daniel Elkins way back in Dead Man's Blood is here playing the pathologist. Huh. Dean questions him about the man who had his liver ripped out, and Pathologist Elkins immediately smells a rat and asks to see the brothers' badges, which – good for him! These serial liars and ID fraud experts don't encounter enough suspicion. They promptly produce their fake/stolen badges, which satisfy the man, to some extent, at least. "Fine. So you're cops and morons."

Heh. "Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart," Dean immediately defends. Bless.

Sam's hair is very smooth and sleek in this episode. It's usually so fluffy!

Pathologist Elkins snips that the liver was not ripped out, as he escorts the brothers over to view the body. The man's liver was surgically removed by someone who knew their way around a scalpel – as they would know, if they had read his report. Dean tries to bluff his way out of the hole. Pathologist Elkins sighs and asks if they are done. They are. Exasperated, he asks them to go away. Heh.

The brothers make their way toward the exit, Sam looking decidedly pleased with the outcome of the visit. The surgical removal of the victim's liver means he's on the right track, still manipulating Dean through the case without explaining his hunch. Maybe because he doesn't want Dean getting his hopes up – but most likely because he knows Dean won't agree with what he has in mind.

Dean wonders what's up. Sam brushes it off, and perks that this punches a hole in their zombie theory. "Doctor Quinn Medicine Zombie," Dean snarks. Hah.

Sam chuckles, and…oh, Sam. This is what even the tiniest glimmer of hope does for him. He can laugh again, more relaxed and light-hearted than he has been in months. Oh, Sam. He oh-so smoothly suggests that maybe they are on the wrong track looking for hacked up corpses – maybe they should be looking for survivors. "This isn't zombie lunch, this is organ theft."

Elsewhere in the hospital, the brothers interview a survivor, a decidedly cranky man who had a kidney stolen. He grumps that he already talked to the cops about this and doesn't understand why he has to go through it all over again. Sam soothingly assures him that it is just a couple more questions, but he is not pacified and continues to give the brothers short shrift as he tells his story. He was feeding his meter when he got jumped from behind, woke up strapped to a table, and then the pain started. "The worst pain you can possibly imagine, only worse." Then he blacked out again, and woke up screaming in a no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice. He is unable to give any more details than that, too fixated on the trauma of having a kidney stolen to even try to remember. It's probably wrong that I so enjoy how uncooperative everyone is on this case. It is usually so easy for the brothers to sweet-talk the witnesses they interview.

Motel. So, the brothers are back to paying for their room again now, after squatting earlier. I wonder how they make these decisions? They don't seem to be purely financial, nor is it connected any longer to their need to stay below the radar. I suppose it's purely circumstantial.

Sam is on the laptop, researching 19th century medical procedures, while Dean sits opposite him at the table, enjoying a cheeseburger. And he turns it around and around before deciding on the best spot to take the first bite. Hee. Sam announces that he has a theory, and he manages to make it sound like this is a new theory, something he has only just hit upon based on the evidence uncovered in their investigation thus far, when in fact this is what he was hoping for all along. He turns the laptop around so that Dean can have a look. It seems that the victims' incisions were sewn up using silk, Sam explains, which was commonly used in the early 19th century, but frequently led to massive infections and a high mortality rate. Solutions to this problem were sought, and one such solution was the application of maggots.

"Dude, I'm eating," Dean protests, already looking squicked out by the images on screen. Hee. Sam continues to rave about how effective the maggot method was, since maggots eat only dead tissue and leave healthy tissue, and continues that when Kidney Guy was found, his wound was packed with maggots. "Dude. I'm eating," Dean repeats, glaring.

Dean puts his burger down and sums up that people are being ganked, put through a little 'antiques roadshow surgery' involving organ theft…he just can't place why this is all sounding so familiar.

Sam happily explains that it sounds familiar because Dean has heard it before, when he was a kid. He leafs through John's journal – oooooooh, it's been such a long time since the journal had an airing! It looks different. I think they replaced the jacket – and passes it over for Dean to take a look at the relevant page. As Dean studies the entry, Sam narrates that a Doctor Benton lived in New Hampshire and was both brilliant and completely obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So in 1816 he abandoned his practice…

…and nobody heard from him in about 20 years, Dean cuts in, picking up the narrative to prove that he does remember the case now that Sam has jogged his memory. Between them the brothers exposit that people then started showing up dead, or missing an organ, or a hand, or some other body part. So, whatever Benton was doing, it works – he stayed alive, and just had to replace various body parts whenever they wore out.

It is important to note that Sam knows from the start what Doctor Benton's modus operandi is. He knows that immortality of the Benton variety revolves around murder and organ theft, and is therefore monstrous.

Dean says that Benton shouldn't still be around – John found him and took his heart out. Sam can only shrug that the doc must have plugged in a new one. I can't even begin to wrap my brains around how that would work – if Benton needs all his organs, how would he stay alive to replace something as vital as the heart? And if he is able to live without a functioning heart, which he must if he is able to perform the surgery on himself to replace it, why does he need to replace it? Immortal is immortal, right? Maybe it's just that although he stays alive even without the various parts, he's more comfortable if they are all in full working order? Who knows!

Dean gets back to his lunch, wondering where Benton might have holed up. Sam takes the journal back to explain that Benton is picky about where he sets up his lab. I love how John's journal is used for this episode – the fact that John encountered this thing before and wrote it all down means that the brothers don't have to go through the research process of trying to find out how it operates, once they've got it identified. Or rather, once Sam has shared his identification of it with Dean. Having the information so readily available to them frees up a lot of screen time for exploration of other, more important plot aspects – of which there are plenty.

Sam explains that Benton likes dense forest, with access to a river or stream. Around a mouthful of burger, Dean asks why. "Because that's where he likes to dump the bile, and intestines, and faecal matter," Sam explains, breaking into a grin when he sees Dean almost gagging. "Lost your appetite yet?" Hee. Dean winds Sam up so very often, it's brilliant to see Sam getting his own back by well and truly grossing his brother out.

Dean's not going to let Sam win, though. He takes a moment, collects himself, and then turns his attention back to the burger. "Oh, baby, I can't stay mad at you." Mwah.

Hee. Oh, we so need more scenes like this! It's cute, it's domestic, it's brotherly, they both have something to do while they talk. Sam gets to rag on Dean for once, and makes the most of the opportunity with great amusement, grossing him out with such heartfelt glee. Perfect. It's so good to be reminded that Sam can be fun! But, again, we remember that the lightness of Sam's mood is a reflection of his newfound hope, a hope that he isn't sharing with his brother yet. And he is actually being very manipulative here, raising this theory as something new he's just come up with, when in fact his suspicion that it could be Doctor Benton was the reason he wanted to take the case in the first place, for all his employment of the zombie card to pull Dean's strings. It's a very John thing, keeping Dean on a need to know basis like this. Sam gets more like his father all the time.

This is also a really interesting call back to an old hunt of John's – remember Sam's amazement in Something Wicked that John should have let a creature he was hunting get away? How much has changed since then. Now, neither brother expresses any surprise that this thing John thought he had killed should still be alive, that John got that one wrong. They just accept that it can happen and move forward with the case.

One last point: the Doctor Benton case actually appears in the Supernatural comics, in issue #4 of the Origins series. There, it appeared that John hadn't just removed the heart, but had thoroughly dismembered Benton. However, it has never been easy to reconcile the events of the comics with on-screen canon, and even if the case as presented there is accepted as reality, it was one of John's very first hunts, and so hardly surprising that it wasn't quite as successful as he believed at the time.

At the start of the episode, Sam said that the fingerprints found on the first victim belonged to a man who died in 1981. Presumably, the hand, and therefore those fingerprints, belonged to a previous victim.

Street. Night. A random man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Sam – only not quite as tall or as broad in the shoulders – is out jogging in the fog. He's wearing a little heart monitor wristwatch that is incredibly annoying, what with the constant beeping and all, but does play an important part in the scenes that follow. Jogger stops to catch his breath and tighten a shoelace, only for an unseen assailant to sneak up behind him, clamp a handkerchief we instantly know to be soaked in chloroform over his mouth, and drag him away.

Cabin. Jogger wakes, heart monitor still bleeping away, to find himself strapped to a makeshift operating table, stripped to the waist. The first thing he sees as he opens his eyes is an old-fashioned lamp, followed by a jar of maggots, and then Doctor Benton comes into view. He looks fantastically hideous, face marred by enormous scars left behind by the self-surgery he has performed on himself over the years. He doesn't bother talking, instead murmuring shhhh as he brings his scalpel down and slices into Jogger's chest. Jogger screams and screams as his chest is carved open, followed by rib-spreaders to crack the rib cage, and the whole time the bleeping of the heart monitor is getting faster and faster, more and more frantic. The sound effects are really quite gruesome. Jogger lives long enough to see his own still beating heart being lifted out of his chest cavity, and I'm really not sure about the science of all this – would he really remain conscious this long? – but it is very effectively creepy. Finally, and somewhat abruptly after the frantic pace it had reached, the heart monitor falls silent.

Erie Motel. Sam talks Dean through his latest research: a bunch of abandoned hunting cabins marked off on a map. Dean wonders what they're waiting for. But then Dean's phone rings. It's Bobby. Hi, Bobby! We see him actively engaged in his day job while he talks to Dean, coming off dealing with a truckload of wrecked cars, which is great. I do enjoy action dialogue so much more than static conversation. They should always give characters something to do while they talk!

Bobby announces by way of hello that he thinks he finally has a bead on Bela. Dean is listening. Rufus Turner, Bobby begins. Dean promptly snarks his incomprehension of this non sequiteur. Because he knows Dean too well to react, Bobby completely ignores this flippancy to explain that Rufus Turner is a hunter, or used to be, anyway. These days he's a hermit, mostly, who does a little selling on the side. Bobby put the word out on Bela months ago, and now Rufus has just called to say that a woman got in touch wanting to buy some things. She had a British accent, and went by the name Mina Chandler – an alias Bela has used before, Dean realises, observing that it would be a sloppy move on her part to get in touch with one of Bobby's old friends. Bobby shrugs that he hasn't seen Rufus in 15 years, and they barely maintain contact, so it is unlikely that Bela knows he knows him. Rufus lives in Canaan, Vermont, he finishes. Dean thanks him and says they're on their way. Bobby has one last piece of advice: take a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue.

Dean hangs up without saying goodbye and tells Sam that they are going after Bela. Sam is extremely taken aback at this abrupt change of plans, and counters that they should stay in Erie and finish the case. Dean thinks he's insane for even suggesting they ignore this lead. Sam points out how unlikely it is that Bela still has the Colt after so many months, that she would have sold it the moment she got it. "Then I'll kill her. Win-win," Dean grimly offers. It's not the first time Dean has threatened the life of a human he felt had crossed a line; what is new this season, however, is that Sam no longer automatically protests such an action.

Sam tries to argue some more in favour of seeing the Doctor Benton case out, but Dean, who has no way of understanding why this random case is so much more important to his brother than the possibility of either retrieving the Colt or avenging its theft, cuts across him with a curt: "Sam. We're going."

"No," Sam insists. Dean wants to know why not. "Dean, this – this here. Now. This is what's going to save you," Sam informs his brother, a fervent light in his eyes. Oh, Sam.

"What, chasing some Frankenstein," Dean laughs, not having the faintest idea what his brother is talking about. Ah, Dean – Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster. Such a common misidentification to make.

"Dean, immortality," Sam enthuses, and Dean can't believe what he's hearing. Oh, Sam. He's so excited, so animated – so very blind to the ramifications of what he's suggesting. It is so very, very Sam. He always has become alarmingly blinkered when he sets his sights on a specific personal goal, and regularly forgets to stop and look for cons among the pros; all his usual rationality and morality go out of the window where his family – Dean – is concerned. And he always has been far too willing to bend the truth in order to get his own way.

The parallels here with Sam's behaviour in Faith are striking. Then, as now, Dean was just weeks away from death. Then, as now, Sam considered this loss wholly unacceptable. Then, as now, Sam was willing to deceive his brother regarding a possible solution he knew Dean would not approve of. And then, as now, he was willing to go to any lengths to keep his brother alive, no matter how extreme. That time, Sam didn't know beforehand just what the cost of the miraculous healing would be, but there have always been question marks over whether he would have pressed ahead with the healing even if he had known. Dean chose to give his own life in exchange for his brother's, but Sam has always seemed disturbingly willing to offer the lives of others to keep his brother alive – we saw that again in Mystery Spot.

Also? I'm sure this particular sub-plot – the 'Sam chasing immortality as a solution to Dean's crossroads deal' plot – has been covered by many a fanfic this last year!

"Look, Benton can't die," elaborates Sam. "We find out how he did it, we can do it to you!" Oh, man. It is such a bad idea. They already know that Benton's method of staying alive for two centuries involves murder and organ theft! Dean asks what his brother is talking about. But Sam just isn't seeing any of that. All he can see is the fact that Dean is about to die, and he can't let it happen. The only thing he cares about is Dean alive. "You have to die before you go to hell, right?" Sam babbles. "So if you can never die –"

"Wait, wait," Dean interrupts, realisation dawning. It figures that Sam's deception would be the first point he seizes upon, an irritant much easier to absorb than what his brother is suggesting. "Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?"

Sam holds Dean's eyes for an uncomfortable second before denying the charge, but he's lying and they both know it. "Look, I was hoping…" he evades.

"So the whole zombie thing – that was just a line to me?" Dean presses, very unhappy with this turn of events, and who can blame him? Sam brought him here under false pretences and has been stringing him along and manipulating him the whole time. In this family, nothing good ever comes of withholding the truth. Sam protests that he didn't want to say anything until he was sure and that all he is trying to do is find an answer here. "No, all you're trying to do is chase Slicey McHacky," Dean angrily counters. "And to kill him? No. You want to buy him a freaking beer, you want to study him!" Sam, getting angry as well, insists that he was just trying to help. "You're not helping!" Dean bites. "You're forgetting that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what: living forever is welching!"

"Fine, then whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too!" Sam babbles. Yes. That'll solve everything, Sam. Immortality all round.

Why would anybody want to live forever? Well, I suppose if you know for sure that the alternative is what Dean is facing, that might make it a little more appealing, but still. It is already clear that whatever Benton did to keep himself alive involves murdering a lot of people along the way. There is no way this could ever turn out to be a viable solution. But Sam's willingness to ignore the moral implications and pursue the possibility regardless does remind us just how far along that crooked path the brothers are; their reliance on unnatural solutions to all their mortality issues is something that really has to end, sooner rather than later.

Dean can't believe what he's hearing "No, it's just like Bobby's been saying," he firmly insists. "We kill the demon that holds the contract, the whole thing gets wiped clean. That's our best shot." That's a very practical-sounding solution. It's very Dean and very Bobby. It's easy to see why those two get along so very well.

Sam asks who Dean is going to shoot, even if they found the Colt, since they don't know who or where the demon is that holds the contract. Dean bitches that he'll shoot the hellhounds, then, before they slash him up. Heh. I said all that after the last episode!

Sam insists he's staying where he is. Dean immediately proclaims this unacceptable, because Sam would be alone to work a dangerous gig with no back up. That's the Dean I know and love! Once upon a time Sam would have huffed and puffed about his brother laying down the law like that. Now, though, he just calmly points out that Dean can't stop him doing what he wants to do, and that's that. Compare the civility of this separation to the one in Scarecrow. They've both matured enormously, and then, of course, they were parting in anger. This time they are parting with regret.

Sam takes a breath and points out that they both want the same thing here. Dean knows. But neither brother has any intention of backing down; each believes, completely, that his chosen course of action is their best option. They both look so hurt as they realise that they are each going to have to go it alone, that their paths must diverge. It's almost symbolic.

It is also another classic Supernatural case of role reversal. In the last episode we saw Dean's desperation reach a fever pitch, tipped over the edge by the sound of his father's voice, while Sam remained rational and tried to let his brother down gently. This time around Sam is the one clutching at desperate straws, while Dean remains grounded in grim reality and practicality.

It is rare for the brothers to be so hell bent on such wildly opposing plans, even more rare that neither can talk the other around to his way of thinking, so it is fascinating to see this demonstration of how much both brothers have grown this season, becoming ever more independent of one another even as their co-dependence has grown to such unhealthy levels. Dean no longer has the authority over Sam that he once had. Their relationship really has changed, developing into a truly equal partnership; Sam is his own man, adult enough to just say no to a command he disagrees with, where in the past he might have thrown a tantrum, and Dean recognises this with both pride and sorrow. Sam can and must take care of himself and stand on his own two feet now; his willingness and ability to do so has been growing all season, and Dean knows it and so is able to walk away for the first time ever in order to look after himself.

Dean has never walked out on Sam before, ever. He will occasionally storm out of the room during an argument, needing space, but he never goes far. This is different. This time he is deliberately walking away from Sam to pursue a separate agenda, leaving his brother to finish the job alone. He is also walking out on a job that remains incomplete, and that is likewise something new. Dean's unselfishness and inability to put himself first has always been one of his most striking characteristics, sitting alongside his resolute focus on protecting the innocent. But he has made enormous progress this season, finally facing up to hurts and issues that have been bottled up inside for years and at long last able to acknowledge his own self-worth. He is three weeks away from death and damnation. If ever he could be forgiven for abandoning an ongoing hunt and potential victims of that monster in favour of saving his own life, now is that time.

You know, I've been waiting three seasons to see what would happen if a greater priority sprang up while the brothers were mid-job! But this still isn't quite that scenario.

As Dean shoulders his bag and walks to the door, there's a nifty aerial shot of the brothers' motel room – Dean's bed is mussed, with the covers only half-heartedly pulled across. Sam's, in contrast, has been neatly turned down so that he can arrange his papers across it. It's a wonderfully understated, subtle reminder of Sam's months alone in Mystery Spot, those months that never really happened but that Sam remembers so vividly. Of course that experience has left its mark on him.

At the door, Dean pauses, and looks back at his little brother with real anguish in his eyes. "Sammy, be careful," he cautions.

"You too," Sam murmurs, fighting back tears. He looks absolutely shattered when the door closes behind Dean and he is left alone.

Canaan, Vermont. Dean arrives at the home of the reclusive Rufus Turner. I presume he called Bobby to ask for the full address once he hit town, rather than wasting time trying to track the hermit down himself.

Dean always looks his bow-legged best when clomping up a set of steps!

Rufus Turner has a large sign on his door forcefully discouraging all callers. Dean ignores it, rings the bell, and hammers on the door. A CCTV camera immediately pans around to view him, and a testy voice calls out "what?"

Dean leans in to the voice interface and opens with: "Hi, uh, Rufus?"

"Yeah, even if I am, the question still remains the same. What?" Rufus grumps. I like him already. Dean offers that he is Dean Winchester and is a friend of Bobby Singer's. "So?" Rufus dismisses. Dean is a little thrown and reminds the other man that he called Bobby that morning. "So?" Rufus repeats. Now more than a little thrown, Dean flashes an uncomfortable smile at the camera and prompts that Rufus had told Bobby about a British chick who made contact with him. "Yeah, and so?" Rufus is a really tough nut to crack. Fabulous.

Dean asks if he knows where Bela is. Yes, he does. Can he tell Dean where to find her? No. "Course not," Dean mutters. "Look, Rufus, man –"

The door opens and Rufus himself appears, holding what seems to be a bowl of cereal. What time of day is it? He looks younger than I expected, but maybe he's just worn well. "Let me point something out to you," he snips. "You are knocking at my door, so don't 'look, man' me. I'm not your man."

Dean is suitably chastened and amends his manner to a respectful "sorry, sir."

"I'm going to tell you a little story," says Rufus. "Once upon a time Bobby called me and asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff. I called. The end." Rufus turns to go back into his house. Dean hurriedly asks again if he could just tell him where to find Bela. Rufus glowers in exasperation. "Dean…Winchester, right? Dean, do I look like I'm here to help you?"

Dean has to say no to that one. Rufus tells him to get the hell off his property, in that case. Fair enough, Dean says, but he just has one more question, regarding a certain bottle of Scotch he just happens to have in his bag. "Is this considered good?"

Rufus's face lights up like a Christmas tree. A caller bearing good Scotch is that rarest of all animals: a welcome caller.

Later. Dean sits in Rufus's kitchen helping him make inroads into the Johnny Walker Blue. "I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff," Rufus proclaims, satisfied with the gift. For Dean it makes a nice change from the rather cheaper stuff he usually makes do with. And the drink certainly smoothes the way toward both bonding and information sharing. Dean prompts Rufus to tell him about Bela's little visit. She wanted to buy some items that will take Rufus a little time to round up, he explains. This means that she is still in the vicinity. Dean asks where she is now.

"Dean, can I ask you something?" Rufus counters the question with another question. "You've got three weeks left. Why are you wasting your time chasing after that skinny, stuck-up English girl?

It takes Dean a moment to get over the shock of such a direct and intensely personal question from a complete stranger. "How do you know about that?" he wants to know. That's three questions in a row and nary an answer in sight.

"Because I know things," is all Rufus has to say, which is nice and vague, and his attitude is a nice mislead, raising suspicions that he could be more than he seems – maybe even a demon – only for these qualms to prove unfounded. "I know a lot of things about a lot of people."

Dean's expression hardens into suspicion. It isn't really surprising that Rufus should have picked up on all the ins and outs of Dean's situation, given that the brothers have spent months now talking to anyone and everyone who might have even the tiniest hint of a clue as to how to break the crossroads deal. Hunters talk; we already know that. We also know that the Winchester name is fairly well known among the network of hunters, and gossip travels faster than just about anything on this planet. But it also isn't the slightest bit surprising to see how much Dean hates knowing that his situation is so publicly known, hates any reminder of his imminent fate.

"I know ain't no peashooter going to save you," Rufus continues. Again, although he does a masterful job of covering it up and acting nonchalant, Dean needs a moment to collect himself before he manages to ask how the other man is so sure. "'Cause that's the job, kid," Rufus shrugs. "Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just something else down the road. Folks like us? There ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming." Right barrel of laughs this bloke is.

"Well, ain't you a bucket of sunshine," Dean grimly responds, trying hard not to let it show how rattled he is by such a dire proclamation. He's got three weeks left to live. All season long just about everyone he's met has done nothing but tell him how much he can't be saved. And it isn't as if he ever had much in the way of expectation for the future even before making that fateful deal. Ever since season one the world of the hunters has been presented to us as cold, dark and lonely, a murky network of paranoid misfits and rogues, and it seems clear that once you are in there is no way out. Sam tried, to some degree of success, but he was very young, better placed than probably any other hunter to make the break, and still he got sucked back in again in the end. The reclusive Rufus, here, is a perfect example: he's no longer a hunter but remains inextricably bound to that world. We saw Ellen, last season: she was never really a hunter to begin with, but her husband was, and even after his death she was unable to sever those ties. Even those such as Bobby, with stable homes and lives, appear very much to be loners, not to mention appropriately paranoid, remaining always on the fringes of society rather than embracing it. Hunters truly are set apart from the world they protect.

Dean has always been unwilling to think about the future, knowing that the world of normal people had no place for him, unable to see anything beyond hunting. Even if he doesn't die in three weeks time when the deal comes due, what kind of future can he ever have? The picture Rufus is painting isn't exactly rosy, and no doubt ties in with everything Dean has always believed about his prospects. There can be no happy ending for a hunter. And yet there should be.

"I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive," Rufus portentously declares. "But you won't." He sounds way too gleeful as he makes this ominous prediction, and Dean looks very bleak.

Erie, Pennsylvania. Woods. Sunset. Oh, Sam's driving a rental again. Again, it's very practical under the circumstances, just not what we're used to. Maybe the production team just really wants us to know that he isn't stealing cars any more! He pulls out his map of abandoned cabins to check that he's in the right place, and peers around, looking a little uncomfortable with this whole flying solo thing. He leaves the car and sets off on foot.

Canaan, Vermont. Dean brings the conversation back around to Bela. This time, Rufus coughs up the goods without any more prevarication. She's staying at Hotel Canaan, room 39.

Hotel Canaan, in Canaan; Erie Motel, in Erie – very unimaginative names this week!

Rufus warns Dean to watch his back. This guy clearly knows his stuff, but he also clearly has a taste for the melodramatic; he really is all doom and gloom. I'd love to know what his story is, and so rarely think that about random guest characters.

Dean is pretty sure he can handle Bela, but Rufus ominously tells him not to be so sure about that, that there are things Dean doesn't know about her.

"Oh, and you do?" Dean bites. "Right. Because you know things." Heh. I love the way these two interact: fellow hunters who only just met but already know that they have too much in common not to be a little suspicious of one another, snippy and tense, but who each recognise in the other a kindred spirit of sorts, as they sound one another out. It makes a great contrast to Dean's interaction with Bobby, which has a similar shape in many ways – experienced older hunter versus cynical youngster – but is coloured by the decidedly familial affection they feel for one another, after so many years' acquaintance.

Yep, Rufus agrees. Dean guesses that he lifted Bela's fingerprint. Yep again. And that got him jack, Dean guesses again. Yep yet again. They both chuckle. Rufus admits that Bela burned her fingerprints off, probably years ago. Ouch. Dean assumes that this means the other man is right where he is: square one. "Nope," Rufus chuckles, enjoying the superiority that comes with knowledge. Dean's expression hardens once more. He doesn't enjoy anyone having the upper hand on him.

"You do her ear?" Rufus asks, faux-casually.

Dean's face is a picture as he tries to figure out that non sequiteur. "Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know – that sounds uncomfortable." Heh.

Rufus smugly explains that ears are as unique to a human as fingerprints. "Course that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England? They're all over it?"

Really? The uniqueness of ears I have no problem with. But I live in the UK and never heard of this as a widely used means of identification, so I'm pretty sure the truth is being stretched a little!

Rufus evasively continues that a friend of a friend – of a friend – faxed him ten pages of confidential files within a day. All he had to provide was one clean shot of Bela's ear off the security camera. He gets the file and hands it over for Dean to peruse. "The so-called Bela Talbot."

Dean starts to read, and almost immediately looks amazed.

Erie, Pennsylvania. Darkness has fallen as Sam makes his way into one of those abandoned hunting cabins he'd noted on the map. It looks, well, abandoned. We don't know if this is the first cabin he has investigated, or another in a long line. Poking around with the flashlight, however, he very quickly strikes gold in the form of a leather-bound book whose cover bears the alchemical symbol noted in John's journal with reference to Doctor Benton.

Stuffing Benton's book into an inside pocket, Sam notices a trapdoor in the floor, and heads over to investigate. The trapdoor creaks noisily and the steps down into the basement squeak equally loudly, so it's probably just as well that Benton clearly isn't home at the moment. First time of viewing I kept squawking at the screen for Sam to be careful and get out of there! Because he is alone, with no backup in case of trouble, and that fact alone is scary.

Dean is three weeks away from death and hell. Unless a solution is found, Sam will be alone like this permanently, very soon.

In the basement, the first thing Sam finds is the bloody corpse of Jogger, his heart cut right out of his chest. Even in death, the guy still looks so much like Sam it is uncanny. Distressed at the sight, Sam checks for a pulse, even though it is obvious the guy is already dead. He came here looking for an answer to his prayers, but the discovery of this unfortunate victim is a timely reminder to him that there is more to the case than a potential solution to his problems, that people are suffering and dying because of Doctor Benton. For all his focus on the outcome he wants from this case – the possibility of saving Dean – he flips straight back into Protector of the Innocent mode.

Sam continues to poke around the basement, taking note of a boarded up window. Then, partially concealed behind some torn and bloody drapes, he sees another victim, a woman, and cautiously hurries to her side, lip curling as he sees her bloody wrist crawling with maggots. I wonder what Benton took from her, then – maybe a tendon or some skin? It's an injury she can survive, although whether or not she will ever regain full use of her right hand is another matter entirely. Also? The maggots are really, really gross.

The girl wakes up before Sam can feel for her pulse and, understandably, she immediately starts thrashing against her bonds, panicking and in great pain. Sam tries urgently to calm her down and keep her quiet, in case Benton is lurking someplace nearby or comes back, assuring her that he is going to help her. He finds a towel nearby and uses it to wrap her abused wrist, whispering apologies as the combination of rough fabric against open wound causes squeals of agony.

The sound of a door opening above is a new source of alarm. Benton is home. Sam frantically renews his efforts at keeping the girl quiet, but she is too distraught to comprehend the need for caution. In the room above, Doctor Benton hears her cries, and creaking floorboards soon warn Sam that he is on his way to investigate, both making a fast getaway essential and blocking the most obvious exit.

Benton slowly makes his way down the steps into the basement, and immediately sees that the table the girl was strapped to is now empty. The boards have been ripped out of the window, telling him just how she made her escape.

Woods. Sam sprints back to the car, the injured girl cradled in his arms, very Big Damn Hero. He gently places her in the passenger seat, and then scurries around to the driver's side. She practically falls into his lap as he starts the engine, so that he has to take a moment to straighten her up, and then Benton smashes the window and starts slamming Sam's head against the steering wheel. Sam takes several nasty blows to the head before he manages to get the engine started and the car into reverse. He backs a few yards down the track, sending Doctor Benton flying, and then sets his teeth, switches gears, and drives right over the top of the monster. Very ruthless. Hunter Sam! He drives away with the rescued girl. In his wake, Doctor Benton picks himself back up, neck broken and head tilted at a horrific angle, and yet still alive. Unperturbed, he snaps his head and neck back into place, blood trickling from an eye.

Sam has seen Benton now, in the hideously scarred flesh. He has seen with his own eyes what this man – creature – does to his victims, all in the name of prolonging his unnatural existence. Benton is a monster, plain and simple – extending life in this way is vile, unnatural and immoral, leaving a trail of murder and suffering. Sam should know that he can't do that to Dean, or to himself. But he won't let himself see it; fear for Dean clouds his judgment like nothing else.

Canaan, Vermont. Hotel Canaan. It's definitely up-market from the kind of establishment generally frequented by the Winchester brothers. Bela enters her room, closes the door behind her, and is startled to find Dean lying in wait for her. "Where's the Colt?" he demands, slamming her against the wall and pressing her there with an arm across the chest, gun at the ready.

The Colt is long gone, Bela says, holding onto her cool composure. Across the world by now. Dean is convinced she is lying, and takes her purse off her, just in case she's got the magic gun on her person. Bela tells him he can call the buyer to check, if he wants. "Speak Farsi?"

Dropping the purse, Dean grabs Bela around the waist and pulls her close. She immediately protests and pushes him off, but he is happy to let go of her again now that he has disarmed her. "Don't flatter yourself," he grates out, taking possession of her gun. "Don't move," he commands, leaving her standing by the door as he starts to search the room. Bela insists again that she doesn't have the Colt. "Oh, yeah, I'm definitely going to take your word for it," Dean snorts.

Seeing Dean engrossed in rifling through every drawer in the room, Bela sidles back toward the door, fixing to sneak out…

BANG! Dean puts a bullet through the door right alongside Bela's head. Yay! Fabulous warning shot, and Bela's shock is fantastic. He really, really hates her, and rightly so.

Surely hotel security should come running, though, on hearing a gunshot on the premises?

"Don't move," Dean repeats. He pulls Bela's suitcase out from under the bed and searches it.

The look Bela gives Dean as she watches him search the room is equal parts pity, understanding and contempt, and it isn't until much later in the episode that we can begin to understand what's going through her head right now. Only she knows how very alike their situations truly are. She tells Dean again that the Colt is gone, that he'll have to get on a plane if he really wants to find it. Dean stops searching and starts to look tired, frustrated and defeated as she loftily continues that if he tries to track down the buyer, he might catch up to him eventually.

Dean takes a moment to absorb the realisation that the Colt really, truly is out of his reach, that Bela has been as much of a wild goose chase as every other lead he and Sam have chased in recent months, and falls back on plan B. He marches over to Bela, cocks his gun, and takes aim right between her eyes.

"Are you going to kill me?" Bela coolly asks.

"Oh, yeah," Dean bites out with a grim smile.

"You're not the cold-blooded type," she tells him, tone serious and yet almost mocking, holding the eye contact, composure not wavering in the slightest.

"You mean like you? That's true," Dean sardonically admits. "See, I couldn't imagine killing my parents."

And there's the crack, right there, when she hears him say that and knows that he knows. Just for the merest split second before the defences crash into place once more and she insists that she doesn't know what he means.

"Yes, you do," Dean firmly insists, lip curling with revulsion for who and what she is. "You were, what, fourteen? Folks died in some shady car accident, police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela – sorry, Abby – inheriting millions."

No longer trying to deny any of it, Bela dismally starts to ask how he found out. Dean interrupts that it doesn't matter. Bela can't hold the eye contact any longer and looks away.

Cue – flashback! Fourteen-year-old Bela sits on her bed, tears rolling down her face. She is very well cast as Bela's younger self. The bedroom door opens and a man walks in, but we only see his feet because that's what YoungBela keeps her eyes fixed on. Her face is filled with dread as the man – her father – closes the door behind him, trapping her in the room with him.

Back in the present, Bela has regained her composure, and offers Dean an icy smile. "They were lovely people," she crisply tells him, refusing to show any sign of weakness even now. "And I killed them. And I got rich. And I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to you," she continues, in the face of the absolute disgust in Dean's eyes.

Can't be bothered to give a damn could be Bela's motto, except that it isn't so much not being bothered and more an active choice not to give a damn about anything. The origin story is clichéd, perhaps, but honestly, it was always going to be something like this – some childhood trauma that started her off down this slippery slope. The abuse alluded to here is not an excuse for her behaviour, by any means, but it does provide an explanation for how she started out along this dark path.

One thing I have always loved about this show is how much depth and meaning hindsight adds to older episodes. Remember Bela's reaction in Red Sky At Morning when Dean twitted her about not getting enough hugs from her father? Now we understand.

And the beauty is that we still know her better than Dean does, since he was not privy to that flashback and knows only that she caused her parents' deaths, for reasons unknown.

Dean slams Bela against the wall again, furious, and as he does so a dried sprig of some bush or other is slightly dislodged from its position atop the doorjamb. He keeps hard eyes fixed on Bela's face for a long moment, weighing her up and finding her wanting. "You make me sick," he tells her at length. Of course she does. She is the absolute antithesis of everything he stands for. Everything Dean does is for his family, and always has been. He has given up so much for their sake. Bela, in contrast, destroyed her family. She gained vast wealth as a result, and yet Dean is richer, for all his material poverty, because Bela's life is empty of anything that could give it meaning. It is unlikely that she has ever let anyone close to her since her parents' deaths, ever had any meaningful relationship in her life.

"Likewise," Bela whispers. Dean is equally the antithesis of everything she is. The abuse that Bela suffered as a child turned her inwards. Her father molested her, and her mother failed to protect her, and since their deaths she has grown ever colder. We have seen enough of her this season to know that she is absolutely rigid in her self-reliance, refusing to trust or rely upon anyone else. She turned to the brothers for help only in the most desperate of straits, even then maintaining her composure and making full use of what she perceived to be their greatest weakness – that desire to preserve life – and as soon as her life was saved turned around and paid them off rather than feel or express any true gratitude, still less allow any kind of bond to develop. Look after number one and let everyone else go to hell is the philosophy she lives by. Dean's nobility, his absolute devotion to his family and passionate concern for the innocent…it's beyond alien to her, a shining example of everything she isn't and never will be.

There's rather a long will he-won't he moment as Dean steps back and takes aim once more, preparing himself to execute the bitch. She has lied, cheated and stolen from him and Sam repeatedly, used them shamelessly and betrayed their trust time and again, cares about no one but herself, thinks nothing of destroying lives in the pursuit of whatever she wants. He really, truly loathes her. He wants to do it. And since season one Dean has increasingly been forced into ever murkier waters, making hard decisions and carrying out morally questionable actions for the sake of the greater good. But this is different. Whatever Bela has done in the past, however much she may or may not deserve to die, this would be murder. The big question is: is he prepared to do that to himself?

Bela closes her eyes and prepares to die, and then that twig above the door catches Dean's eye. It obviously means something to him, but the moment of realisation is nicely underplayed. He turns his attention back to Bela, but now with a new kind of sick understanding dawning on him. Bela opens her eyes again, as Dean lowers the gun, and he looks like a huge weight has lifted off his shoulders along with the decision to let her go. "You're not worth it," he snarls as he pushes her aside, and marches out of the room.

Would Dean have carried out his threat to kill Bela if he hadn't seen and recognised the implications of that little sprig? I honestly don't think so. If he was going to kill her he'd have done it when he first threatened to – the longer the moment of truth dragged out, the less and less likely it was that he could ever bring himself to go through with it. He's not like her – thank God!

Left alone, Bela takes a moment to stare bleakly at the door, composing herself after such a close call. Then she looks down at a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. It's a receipt for the motel Dean and Sam are booked into back in Erie. Looks like they paid cash. But…it is dated 11 June 2008! With a groan, I refer you back to my earlier comments about the screwed up timeline.

Bela reaches into her purse, pulls out her cell phone, and dials. "It worked," she announces to whoever picks up at the other end. "He found me. No, Sam wasn't with him. But I know where they are."

Damn her for selling the brothers out again, just seconds after Dean spared her life. She has played them all yet again – Bobby was so sure she wouldn't know he knew Rufus, but now we learn that her approach to his old contact was carefully orchestrated in a deliberate ploy to have her whereabouts made known to the brothers, for reasons yet to be revealed.

Erie, Pennsylvania. Motel. Sam's phone rings and he picks up. It's Dean, of course. "Did you get the Colt?" Sam immediately asks.

"What do you think?" Dean grumps.

"So does that mean that Bela is –?" Sam hesitantly begins. Oh, Sam. So fixated on Benton's monstrous recipe for immortality as a solution to Dean's impending date with death, and yet simultaneously so concerned for his brother's moral and psychological well-being, and he can't see the contradiction.

"No, no. She deserves to die a dozen times over, but I couldn't do it," Dean gruffly admits, and Sam is relieved that he didn't kill Bela at the same time as crushed on his behalf that the Colt retrieval mission was a bust.

"Dean –" Sam begins again, almost breathing his brother's name, and he looks and sounds so broken it hurts. Every dead end, every glimmer of hope that turns out to be false, they all cut so deeply, especially now, so close to the end.

"I'm really screwed, Sammy," Dean interrupts. Sam starts to offer faltering words of comfort, but Dean is in confessional mood, and cuts across him, his tone bleak. "You were right. Bela was a goose chase. The Colt's gone. And this time I'm really screwed, Sam."

"Maybe not," Sam counters, Dean's desolate resignation fuelling his own fervour. "Dean, I found Benton's cabin."

"You okay?" Dean immediately asks, because Sam's safety is always, always his foremost concern. Sam assures his brother that he is all right. "Did you kill him?" is Dean's next question, to which the answer is no. Would Sam even know how to kill Benton, given that John's heart-extraction method failed? "What do you mean, 'no'?" Dean grumbles, reminding us that where Sam sees a possible light at the end of a long, dark tunnel, all Dean sees is a monster that has to be put down.

Sam asks his brother to please just listen for a moment. "I found his lab book," he explains. "And his formula."

"The live forever formula?" Dean rather scathingly asks. Yes, Sam agrees. "Great, let me guess: I've got to drink blood out of a baby's skull," Dean scoffs.

"No, that's the thing," Sam excitedly assures his brother. "It's not black magic. There's no blood sacrifice, or anything. It is just science, Dean. Very, very, extremely weird science, but –"

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean interrupts, sounding very dubious and unsure all of a sudden. "What are you saying? You think –?"

"Dean, I think this might be do-able," Sam enthuses. "I mean, I know we've hit a lot of walls, but I think this formula – I think it might be it. This could save you."

I still don't see how Sam believes this will help. The formula might render Dean unkillable, but that doesn't mean the hellhounds won't try, that the contract-holding demon won't seek revenge when robbed of its prize. Being unable to die while having hellhounds ripping into you sounds like the perfect recipe for disaster – it certainly isn't the stuff happy-ever-afters are made from. But Sam is just clutching at straws, closing his eyes to any and every hole in his theory.

Dean is a little stunned by all this, and clearly doesn't know what to do with Sam's hope, whether to trust it or not. He asks about the formula, apparently willing to at least hear his brother out.

"Well, we're not in the clear yet, there's still things I don't get –" Sam begins, but gets no further as he is jumped from behind and a cloth – no doubt soaked in chloroform – is clamped over his mouth and nose. His phone drops to the floor unheeded in the struggle. On the other end of the line, Dean is alarmed.

Let us take a moment to mull over the small matter of distance. Sam is in Erie, Pennsylvania. Dean was in Canaan, Vermont. There is quite some distance between those two places. Now, we don't know how long Dean waited to call Sam after leaving Bela, but it is still dark, and therefore presumably the same night, so it can't have been that long and he can't have travelled very far yet. We will bear this in mind going into the final quarter of the episode, with Sam having been captured by Doctor Benton and his brother supposedly a couple of states away.

Cabin. We are treated to a nicely creepy close-up of Sam's eyeball, wide and staring and freaked, as the camera rotates and pulls back to slowly reveal that he is strapped to Benton's operating table with bits of tape holding his eyes wide open.

"Just relax. It's all going to be okay," croons Benton, stroking Sam's arm, which is just downright disturbing under the circumstances. "Ain't nothing going to happen here that you got to worry about, Sammy. Your chances of coming out of this procedure alive? Very, very high." Oh, well that's not reassuring at all.

Still. Got to appreciate the irony of Sam finding himself on the receiving end of what he wants to do to Dean, not that Sam is in any mood to really grasp the implications, of course. Also? Sam looks absolutely enormous strapped to that table. He's a big guy, and always looks huge, but there's something about the way he's tied down that really emphasises his size.

Freaking out, because he knows that Dean is too far away to help and Dean is the only person who knows where he is, Sam asks how Benton knows his name. That's a very good question. Benton busies himself sterilising what looks like a melon scooper in a Bunsen burner flame as he drawls that he knows. "You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you? Well, I've got to tell you that I have never done one thing that I did not have to do, this whole eternal life thing is very high maintenance. Something goes bad, like my eyes here, you've got to replace 'em."

And that is exactly why this was never, ever going to be a valid option for Dean.

"And sometimes things get damaged," Benton continues. "Like when your father cut out my heart, now that – that was very inconvenient." Heh. Benton turns and picks up John's journal, which he clearly snagged from the motel at the same time that he snagged Sam. We won't waste any time wondering just how he tracked Sam down. He's two hundred years old. I'm sure he's picked up a few little tricks along the way. "So, I'm sure you can understand," he drawls. "All the joy I felt when I read all about myself here in his journal. Kind of makes this whole thing just feel like some kind of family reunion, don't it? Well, I guess it's about time that we get this thing started."

Sam, understandably, is wigging out big time by now, unable to free himself from his bonds. Benton lifts the melon scooper and brings it down toward Sam's eye, uses it to pull back the lid and start to scoop the eyeball out, and viewers start cringing and hollering in very real fear that Sam could end up seriously maimed here! Sam is also hollering like mad, but before the eyeball can actually be removed gunshots ring out and Benton pulls the implement away from Sam's still undamaged eye, blood running down his chest from a couple of brand new holes. He turns around to see Dean, of course, on the other end of the gun.

Here is where we start asking serious questions around just how Dean managed to bend the space-time continuum in order to get here so fast. Presumably he went to the motel first and found Sam's research, which could have easily told him exactly which cabin to look for, but there is absolutely no way in the world he should have been able to get from where he was back to where Sam is in time for this rescue. Not unless Benton kept Sam unconscious for a really long time before starting on the eyeball extraction, which seems unlikely.

Dean is a little taken aback that Benton doesn't so much as flinch after taking two bullets through the chest. "Shoot all you want," Benton lazily tells him, advancing toward Dean, who fires again and again. Benton picks him up and throws him hard and painfully against a nearby wall, taking down a tray of implements in the process.

Still strapped to the table, all Sam can do is restlessly tug at his bonds, unable to even see the struggle, never mind intervene in any way, completely helpless. This is the third episode in a row that Sam has been captured and restrained. At least this time he hasn't been a witness to murder, although as things stand his brother is in mortal danger with Sam unable to help in any way.

Dean drops to the floor, bruised and winded. Benton advances on him once again and reaches down to grab at his jacket, whereupon Dean lashes out and plunges a knife into the doctor's chest.

Benton's laugh of derision makes a nifty contrast to the anguish written across Dean's face. This thing almost blinded his brother because he wasn't here to provide backup, and soon Sam will be all alone with no backup of any kind whatsoever, and to prevent that happening Sam wants to do this to him, and he is staring it in the face now and it is completely, utterly unacceptable, and this is the death of another tiny, tiny glimmer of hope, maybe the last hope either of them will ever have.

"What part of 'immortality' do you not understand?" Benton snarls, standing up with the knife sticking out of his chest. "It's a pity about the heart, though; it was a brand new one."

"Good," Dean grits. "Should be pumping nice and strong, sending this stuff throughout your whole body." He holds up a bottle of chloroform. "See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it."

Benton looks appalled, feeling the chloroform in his veins starting to take effect. How scientific this is, I have no idea. How long would the chloroform last on a blade before it dripped off, got wiped off, or evaporated into nothing? How much of an impact would such a tiny amount have on the bloodstream? I have no clue. We'll just go with it, and cheer for SmartDean proving yet again how very, very good he is at what he does. Benton staggers and falls, and blacks out. Tidy.

Later. Doctor Benton wakes to find himself firmly strapped to his own table. "Oh, hiya, Doc," Dean faux-cheerfully greets him. "Wakey, wakey, eggs-and-bakey." Mwah. Please, Benton implores. "Please, what?" Dean snorts. "You've been killing people for over a hundred and fifty years, and now you've got a request? Shut up." Hah. So dismissive of the evil monster; so very Dean.

"You don't understand, I can help you," Benton pleads. "I know what you need."

Dean ignores him completely, remarking to Sam that maybe they'll have to cut him up into little bits. "This immortality thing's a bitch."

That's quite a pointed remark there, really, under the circumstances. There's no edge to Dean's voice, no indication that he's referring to anything other than how difficult it is going to be to put Benton down, but since Sam wants to use Benton's magic formula on him…that comment could be taken as a passive-aggressive way of hinting that he wants no part of such a plan. Sam certainly takes it as such, and is starting to look quite desolate.

"I can read the formula for you," Benton offers, desperate to be released to continue his murderous eternal life. The tiniest glimmer of hope returns to Sam's eyes. That's what he wants. "Immortality," Benton tempts. "Forever young. Never die."

Dean looks grim. "Dean?" Sam murmurs, hopefully, because as twisted as this is it is the closest they have come to something that even looks like a possible solution, and time is running out fast.

"Sam." There's a warning in Dean's voice, a warning to his brother not to push this, not to try to persuade him to go there.

Sam stomps out of the room, and Dean follows, not that the few paces they take away from Benton behind his bloody drapes actually affords any privacy for their conversation whatsoever.

"We're talking hell in three weeks, or needing a new pancreas in, like, half a century," Sam breathlessly tells his brother. That's all Sam can see right now: hell in three weeks. Anything to avoid that, no matter what. This is the Sam who watched his brother die over a hundred times in Mystery Spot, the same mania that saw him willing to sacrifice human life to get his brother back in that episode.

"Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at a quickie mart," Dean grimly points out, ever practical. The hellhounds are coming for him in three weeks, and in the process of finding out that he couldn't be killed they would damage a lot more than just the pancreas, and so it would begin. He wants no part of any such thing.

"It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better," Sam implores. "We just need time, Dean, I mean – please just think about it."

Except, of course, that it is highly unlikely that this immortality formula is reversible. Once done it would be done, no going back, and the truth of what that leads to sooner or later is right there in front of them in the form of Benton. And this is Dean, who has learned to judge shades of grey more than at one stage we ever would have thought possible, but still has a very clear vision of the difference between right and wrong, between good and evil, natural and unnatural. He was devastated the first time he learned that another man had died in exchange for his life, in Faith, and the knowledge that John had sacrificed his life for Dean's almost destroyed him. What Sam is suggesting here? Is abhorrent to him. Dean looks pained at having to refuse Sam's desperate plea, because Dean has always had trouble saying no to Sam, but for him there simply isn't a choice to make. "No."

"Dean, don't you want to live?" Sam is getting wound up now, angry that Dean won't comply with his wishes, won't let him save his life.

"What he is isn't living," Dean insists, also getting a little heated now; frustrated that Sam won't see how wrong this is. "Look, this is simple."

"Simple?" Sam snorts in disbelief.

"To me it is, okay." Dean holds firm. "Black and white, human – not human. See, what the Doc is, is a freaking monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to hell."

Oh, Dean. You couldn't get a clearer statement of who he is and what he believes in than that. And this statement stands alongside his firm decision to send the demon back to hell at the top of the episode, knowing that it will be waiting for him when he gets there in a few weeks, rather than let it loose in the world to hurt somebody else. Big Damn Hero.

Dean pours more chloroform onto a rag and clamps it over Benton's mouth and nose, turning out the lights. "I'm going to take care of him," he tells Sam. "You can either help me or not; it's up to you."

Earlier in the episode we saw the realisation hit Dean that he couldn't force Sam to go with him. Here, now, we see the same thing in reverse, as Sam realises that he equally can't force Dean to do what he wants. He looks so crushed, though, having to give up on that faint and misguided but oh-so precious hope he had nurtured.


Later. Doctor Benton wakes up in the dark and strikes a match to find himself imprisoned inside an old refrigerator. Who gave him the matches? Did the brothers not search him before incarcerating him? He panics and tries in vain to force the door open, but it is sealed.

The refrigerator is wrapped around with heavy chains, Benton's leather-bound journal containing the magic formula sitting on top of it in the bottom of a deep grave. Our boys are remarkably muss-free for guys who are meant to have just spent sweaty hours digging a grave! Benton bellows that he can help them. Dean gruffly tells him to enjoy forever in there. He looks resolute, knowing that he is doing the right thing, but Sam still looks conflicted, burying his hope along with the doctor. They start to fill in the grave, Benton raging at them and pleading with them the whole time.

Oh, that's dark. Burying the guy alive? That's really, really dark. He can't die, but he will run out of air. His body will break down. And through it all he will remain alive and tormented…although sooner or later, surely, once there is no longer a body for the spirit to cling to, surely then he would die? Or would you then be left with a truly insane and powerful spirit to deal with? And there is always the risk of someone digging him up again, thus releasing him to go on yet another murderous rampage.

I can see where live burial would feel more acceptable than live immolation, though. It's a tricky one!

Erie Motel. Bela's high heels clip-clop their way down a corridor. She picks the lock of the room at the end, pulls out a gun with a silencer, and opens the door to creep inside. Side by side are the two twin beds, each with a huddled shape beneath the covers.

Bela puts two bullets into each one, just like that, cold as ice.

Job done, supposedly, Bela briskly steps up to the beds and pulls the covers back to take a closer look at her handiwork, believing that she has just assassinated the Winchester brothers. The clock on the nightstand reads 11.56pm. This must be the following night, surely. Dean made the journey a lot faster than Bela!

But beneath the bedcovers Bela finds not the dead bodies of Sam and Dean but two fast-deflating inflatable sex dolls. Blonde wig on the one in what was Sam's bed, and brunette on the other. Hee. Bela is shocked and dismayed, spinning around as if she expects the brothers to manifest behind her and shout 'boo'.

The phone rings, timing absolutely impeccable. "Hiya, Bela," Dean cheerfully greets her when she picks up, in a fabulous echo of Bela's call to him in Jus in Bello. "Here's a fun fact you may not know: I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that motel receipt."

Marvellous, marvellous; it has taken far too long for the brothers to get wise to Bela's tricks, treat her with the suspicion her behaviour deserves, and start playing her at her own game.

For just about the first time since we met her, Bela's composure is crumbling fast. She hurriedly tells Dean that he doesn't understand. "Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly," Dean counters. "'Cause, see, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Tucked above the door, an herb – devil's shoestring? Well, there's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay."

BotanistDean strikes again. Of course he would know all about anti-hellhound measures, all the research he and Sam have been doing lately. As he speaks, Bela drops onto the bed as if her legs will no longer hold her up, completely shattered. We have never seen her like this; she has always, always had a card or five up her sleeve. But no more.

"See, what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit," Dean continues. "Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill 'em. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela? And it's come due."

Bela hasn't said a word since her first frantic denial, but she doesn't have to – for almost the first time, Lauren Cohan is really impressing me with her acting, as Bela fights back tears. All that polish and gloss has been stripped away to reveal the terrified and hopeless young woman beneath.

Flashback! YoungBela, looking miserable and trapped, sits on a swing. "I can take care of them for you," announces a younger girl, sitting on another swing beside her. YoungBela looks torn. "And it won't even cost you anything." Now YoungBela looks intrigued. "For ten whole years," smiles the demon-possessed child, eyes flashing red.

The question is: did the fourteen-year-old Bela somehow know enough about the occult to summon this demon? It seems unlikely, and the flashback implies that the demon instead sought her out – much like the crossroads demon in Crossroad Blues remained in the area for several days after being summoned, making other deals with the folk she found there. That Bela's undoubted vulnerability was preyed upon by the red-eyed demon is a reason to pity her. But the choices she has made thereafter? Not so much.

Here, at the very end, we finally know enough to understand Bela and her motivations, the abused child who was manipulated by a demon into having her parents murdered, was left incredibly wealthy but also incredibly isolated – that dark, guilty secret would isolate her even if the fortune didn't, and with one parent having molested her and the other failing to protect her from it, it follows that she would struggle to trust – and from there spiralled out of control. We don't know how long it was after making the deal that she learned just what the price would be, ten years later, but it seems clear that the overriding motivation for her years as a purveyor of supernatural artefacts was an ongoing search for a way out of that deal.

Bela has had ten years to find a way out, and failed. The brothers have been searching for almost a year, and have likewise failed. Is Evan Hudson, perhaps, the luckiest man alive – the only man ever to have been released from such a deal?

"Is that why you stole the Colt?" Dean asks, back in the present. "Huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal? Our gun for your soul?"

"Yes," Bela admits, finding her voice at last.

"But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing," Dean continues. He's worked it all out, based on Rufus' file and that one sprig of devil's shoestring. The only thing he doesn't know about is the abuse, and Bela isn't going to tell him about that, isn't going to offer any excuses. I do like that about her.

Of course the Colt wasn't enough for Bela to exchange for her soul, just like it wasn't enough for John to trade with Yellow-Eyes for Dean's life. Demons know when they've got someone on the ropes, and take full advantage. But the question now is, what became of the Colt after Bela's abortive deal-breaking effort? Did the demon take it while demanding more? Did Bela sell it on once she knew it was useless to her, as she told Dean? Or is it hidden away among her belongings someplace? If she still had it, surely she would keep it on her, so as to go down fighting as Dean had hoped, so maybe it is most likely that the contract-holding demon does now have it. Wherever it is, it is most definitely out of reach of the Winchesters.

"They changed the deal," Bela admits, absolutely devastated at the realisation that her last desperate ploy for life has failed and that she is doomed, voice choked but still trying manfully to hold it together. "They wanted me to kill Sam."

The deal was changed. Interesting. We don't know exactly how it played out; presumably she went to a crossroads with the Colt to haggle, but without enough cards to play was unable to improve her position – the Colt was taken and still more was demanded of her: Sam's life. And, always valuing her own life above any other, she was only too willing to accept this altered deal. The point is, though, that that there are loopholes. But this information is more worrying than reassuring!

"Really? Wow. Demons: untrustworthy. Shocker," Dean angrily snarks. Any threat against Sam's life is like a red rag to a bull. "That's kind of a tight deadline, too," he adds, glancing at the clock on the dash. "What time is it?" It is 11.57, clicking over to 11.58 at we look. "Oh, look at that. Almost midnight."

"Dean, listen, I need help," Bela sobs, finally breaking down now that she is down to her last two minutes of life and every last desperate ploy she has tried to save herself has failed.

"Sweetheart, we are weeks past help," Dean curtly tells her, and oh how true that is.

"I know I don't deserve it," Bela cries.

"Yeah, you're right, you don't, you know what the bitch of the bunch is?" Dean snaps "If you had of just come to us sooner and asked for help, we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you."

He sounds so sure that the Colt could have solved both of their problems, and maybe it is true that if they had been able to pool their resources they might have reached a winning solution. But he is right: it is way, way too late. Bela's complete and utter inability to let anyone close enough to trust has been her own downfall – and may have also damned Dean in the process.

"I know, and saved yourself," Bela mourns, distraught, all her evasions and pretensions gone now that her time is up. "I know about your deal, Dean."

I wonder when she found out. Remember that little comment of hers when they first met, in Bad Day At Black Rock – "We're all going to hell; might as well enjoy the ride". It takes on a whole new meaning now. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Her surprise at Dean's agreement with the sentiment makes it clear that she knew nothing of his situation at the time, and I can't help but wonder when it was that she found out, and how she felt. How she found out is a moot point – as with Rufus earlier, anyone with a finger on the pulse of the hunter grapevine should have a fair idea of Dean's situation by now. But for someone like Bela, it has to strike a sour note: the deal that Dean made, to give his brother life, is the perfect contrast to the deal that she made, to rob her parents of theirs. No wonder they despise one another so very much, being such absolute opposites.

"And who told you that?" Dean wants to know, grim. He must be so fed up of everyone knowing his private business!

"The demon that holds it," Bela admits. "She holds mine, too. She says she holds every deal." Listening with great interest now, Dean queries her use of the pronoun 'she'. "Her name's Lilith," Bela tells him, willing to share all her information now that it is no longer of any use to her.

Lilith is the demon who holds the contract. I'd love to be able to say 'aha, of course!' but I can't. I'm not sure how I feel about this development. Having the contract-holding demon be Lilith feels a little too neat, too convenient – too much like loose ends being hastily tied together whether they fit or not. I'm inclined to feel that this is a change of direction, rather than the original plan, an attempt to draw all the loose ends of the season together into one neat package, and it remains to be seen how effective this is.

We were told in Malleus Maleficarum that there was a new demonic power 'rising', which made this demon sound like an up-and-comer. Then Jus in Bello revealed Lilith as pretty awesomely powerful already. If she is the ultimate power behind every demonic deal ever made, that means that she owns a hell of a lot of souls – and therefore a hell of a lot of demons owe fealty to her. That power base makes sense of her present position of strength, but also makes her seem far better established than previously implied, and…I think I preferred the days when demons were just randomly evil, rather than organised, each having its own modus operandi based on death and destruction for its own sake.

Lilith being named as the contract-holding demon is also problematic in terms of gender switch. In Bedtime Stories, the red-eyed demon used the pronoun 'he' several times to describe her boss. And now we learn that said boss is, in fact, a she. Now, in the first two seasons this gender switch would not have been such a big deal. Back then, demonic gender seemed fairly fluid, and the implication was that demons did not necessarily have any gender in and of themselves, simply assuming the gender identity of whatever host body they were in at the time, indiscriminate. However, season three has taken great pains to flesh out demonic identity, giving them backstory and names – revealing that each demon was once human. Therefore it seems clear now that individual demons do have a gender of their own, however loosely they hold to it after maybe centuries of disembodiment. It's about identity. And therefore switching gender on the contract-holding demon at this late stage is jarring, and feels tacked onto the mytharc rather than an integral part of it.

Also, it still remains to be seen just why Lilith is so afraid of Sam, just why she is so desperate to remove him from the scene, yet continually sends others after him rather than attending to the matter herself. Surely it can't be mere jealousy of his place in Yellow-Eyes' now defunct plans? Or that she feels threatened in any way, given that he has shown no sign of wanting to take control of the demon army – still less that he would be able to!

"Lilith?" Dean repeats, glancing at Sam, who is now listening with great curiosity to the one side of the conversation he can hear. "Why should I believe you?"

"You shouldn't," Bela admits. "But it's the truth."

"This can't help you, Bela," Dean sighs. "Not now. Why are you telling me this?"

"Because maybe you can kill the bitch," Bela urges. How's that for a last dying wish?

Dean's face is set like stone. "I'll see you in hell." As things stand, yes, he will – and very soon. He hangs up.

Call ended, Bela slowly hangs up, fighting back tears. The clock ticks over onto midnight. Outside the windows, hellhounds start to howl. How precise of them! I'm a little curious, though, as to how the timing works – this is the exact day that Bela's deal comes due, right? And it is implied that the hellhounds have come to take her the moment it strikes midnight. But in Crossroad Blues, the various victims were hearing the hounds for days before they died. But maybe Bela, too, has been hearing them for days, and we just haven't seen it. We shall wait to see if Dean hears them before the deadline or not.

Almost cringing with terror and despair, Bela sets the phone aside and stands to face her fate.

I really hope she's arranged for someone to look after her cat.

Roll on season finale!


May 2008

Back to top

Home