"Did I just say that? That's kinda weird.."

Wow. Six amazingly strong episodes in a row – season four really is hitting it out of the park, which is fantastic to see after the ups and downs of season three.

That said, the switch in episode order really is glaring. Last week's outing, Monster Movie, was originally intended to air as the third episode of the season, and although it was possible to rationalise away the hiccup in character development in that episode, following on from the one before, the switch back in this one really jars again. But if the episodes are watched in production order rather than airing order the characterisation flows perfectly smoothly.

The plotting and exposition of this episode is not as smooth as it could be, with a few rather bumpy moments as a result. But the overall story being told in the episode is a superb blend of dark and light, with tremendously effective humour overlying very dark and intense emotional content. As a first outing for a pair of writers new to the show, it is an excellent effort.

Then

Lilith was the big new up-and-comer in town, a powerful demon fond of dressing up as a little girl.

Sam had demon blood in him, apparently the root cause of his psychic powers, and both brothers were somewhat freaked out about what this might mean.

Aside – the sound effects during Sam's psychic exorcism intrigue me: there is the standard creepy demon sound, the one associated with anything connected to the Yellow-Eyed Demon. But there is also the sound of distant screaming that makes me wonder if he is opening a direct line to hell. Well, obviously, to send the demons there, he must be, to some degree at least. But did a part of him ever wonder, I wonder, if maybe, just maybe, if he practiced this hard enough…would he ever get strong enough to reach into the Pit and drag Dean out himself? Just a thought.

Back to the recap. Lilith held the contract on Dean's soul, and when his time was up her hellhound tore his body to bits and dragged his soul down to hell.

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in," Castiel warned Dean, who was deeply intimidated by the threat.

And once again the recap gives us an old shot from a new angle, something that has happened a few times in the past – this time it is Dean clawing his way out of his grave that we catch a glimpse of from an angle we hadn't seen before. Way to make use of footage that didn't make it into the final cut!

Now

Night

A be-suited Dean sprints along damp, deserted streets, gasping for breath, eyes wide with terror. It is a total call back to his hellhound nightmare at the start of No Rest For The Wicked, and would be even if we hadn't just been reminded of that dream in the recap.

Somewhere behind Dean a dog barks and growls. Hellhound? Surely not again. Dean runs faster. Turning to glance anxiously over his shoulder as he runs, he promptly falls over a trolley stuffed with clothes and blankets, much to the chagrin of the tramp it belongs to.

"Run! It'll kill you!" Dean yells, pointing fearfully.

The tramp seems utterly disinterested, but nonetheless looks to see what Dean is pointing at.

It is a teeny tiny Yorkshire terrier. With a pretty pink bow adorning its head. Aww.

Although, having said that…Yorkies do tend to be pretty nippy about the ankles, however sweet they look!

The dog growls and whines a little. Dean's eyes widen. He flails and runs once more, screaming his terror. Clearly enjoying this game, the dog gives chase.

And the entire viewing audience falls about laughing and wonders what the hell is going on.

Titles

Rock Ridge, Colorado

43 hours earlier. Day

The Impala pulls up outside the morgue.

Inside, the coroner unzips a body bag for the supposed FBI agents Tyler and Perry (snerk) to take a look at the corpse they have come to see, one Frank O'Brien. Sam confirms with the man that O'Brien died of a heart attack three days ago, and then puzzles over the fact that he was only 44 years old and a marathon runner.

"Everyone drops dead sooner or later," Coroner shrugs. "It's how I've got job security." Heh.

Dean draws a connection between O'Brien's death, here in Rock Ridge, and two similar deaths in the nearby town of Maumee the previous day. Coroner does not consider deaths in Maumee to be his problem, and wonders why the FBI cares anyway. Rather than answer the question, Dean asks to see the results of O'Brien's autopsy.

Coroner looks blank and asks what autopsy, clearly having no intention of performing any such thing, not when it is so much simpler to offer a snap diagnosis of 'heart attack' and declare his work done for the day.

"The one you're going to do," Dean smiles, not skipping a beat.

Later

Coroner slices into Frank O'Brien's chest, and smirkingly asks the two 'agents' if this is their first dead body. "Far from it," Dean assures him, and both brothers try manfully not to squirm as the ongoing autopsy grosses them out.

Coroner is pleased to hear this, noting that: "these suckers can get pretty ripe," and asks Dean to pass him the rib cutters. Dean obliges, apparently having no trouble identifying the instrument in question whatsoever.

Coroner pokes around inside O'Brien's chest. Dean and Sam grimace at one another.

Dean casts his eyes around, not enjoying his view of the inside of O'Brien's chest, and observes a pale strip of skin around the man's finger indicating the spot where a wedding ring must have sat until fairly recently, which is a puzzle since the reports indicate that he was not married. Coroner shrugs that this is not his department, utterly disinterested in any evidence suggesting that this case might not be as straightforward as he wants it to be. Sam asks about the injury to O'Brien's arm, which is scraped raw.

"You know what? When you drop dead, you actually tend to drop," Coroner dismisses. "Body probably got scraped up when it hit the ground."

However, Coroner has to admit that he can't find any blockages in any of the major arteries, which doesn't exactly sit neatly alongside the theory of a simple heart attack. He pulls the man's heart right out of his chest, and Dean looks like he would quite like to be sick. "Heart was pretty damn healthy," Coroner realises, puzzled. "Hold this a second, would you?"

He hands the heart to Dean, who is grossed out all over again. Sam smirks his amusement…and promptly gets a faceful of blood. Ick. "Oh, sorry. Spleen juice," Coroner smirks. Heh. It is Dean's turn to be amused.

Sheriff's office

A very young Sheriff's Deputy is highly amused with himself for keeping supposed FBI agents Dean and Sam waiting.

The Sheriff drifts out to ask for something, and is surprised to see the brothers sitting there, then appalled to learn that they are (supposedly) FBI agents and have been kept waiting. He hastily ushers them through to his office…but asks them to take their shoes off first.

Fair enough. Shoes are left at the door.

A rather large trophy cabinet dominates Sheriff Al Britton's office, telling us a little something about him. He introduces himself to the brothers with hearty handshakes…and then immediately makes liberal use of hand sanitizer as if afraid he might catch something from them. Not accustomed to such overreaction, the brothers make puzzled faces at one another, reflecting on the insanity of the people they meet in the course of their work.

The Sheriff wonders what he can do for the FBI, and Sam informs him that they are looking into the death of Frank O'Brien, whose body was found by some of the Sheriff's men. The Sheriff confirms this. He and Frank were friends, he says. "Hell, we were Gamecocks," he wistfully reminisces.

Dean sniggers, unable to restrain himself, but quickly straightens his face as the Sheriff glares at him. 'Gamecocks' is apparently the name of the town softball team. "They're majestic animals," Sheriff insists, deadly serious. Dean has no idea what to do with that, so lets it lie. The Sheriff continues that he had known Frank since high school and only just found the strength to go see his dead friend this morning, that he was a good man.

"Yeah. Big heart," Dean commiserates. Heh. And an even bigger heh at the fierce side eyes Sam instantly shoots at his brother, because Sam recognises the inappropriate humour even if the Sheriff doesn't.

Sam asks the Sheriff if he noticed Frank acting strangely at all before his death. The Sheriff sighs that yes, Frank was real jumpy before he died, but he doesn't know what scared him. Frank wouldn't answer his phone, he explains, so the Sheriff sent some of his men over to check on him…and the rest is history.

The Sheriff starts coughing, and reaches for the hand sanitizer once again, as if clean hands will somehow soothe a sore throat. Again, the brothers are bemused by this obsessive compulsion. Hands sanitized, the Sheriff asks why the Feds are interested, if they really think there is a case here.

"No," Dean assures him. "It's probably nothing – just a heart attack."

Outside

"No way that was a heart attack," Dean announces as the brothers head back to the car.

Sam agrees, noting that the three victims all had the same scratches over their arms. "All went from jittery to terrified to dead within 48 hours."

The Sheriff they just met was kind of jittery, no? Neither seems to have really noticed, clearly chalking his little behavioural oddities up to general eccentricity rather than potential next victim.

Something scared the victims to death, it seems. Sam wonders what could do that. Dean scoffs. "What can't? Ghosts, vampire, chupacabra… Could be a hundred things, Sam."

Sam sighs that they will have to make a list and start crossing things off. Dean asks who was the last person to see Frank alive. Sam starts to reply that it was his neighbour, Mark Hutchings…but Dean is distracted, peering down the road ahead, and pulls his brother to a halt. Sam wonders what's wrong.

"I don't like the looks of those teenagers down there," Dean decides, and Sam is incredulous, glancing down the street at a group of perfectly harmless looking boys. Dean decides to detour to the other side of the street to avoid them, and Sam is left blinking in bewilderment in his wake.

Mark Hutchings' house

"Tyler and Perry? Just like Aerosmith!" Mark Hutchings enthuses, delighted by the 'coincidence'.

"Yeah, small world," Sam dismisses, no doubt mentally cursing his brother. Heh. They really don't get called on their aliases often enough.

Dean, however, is extremely distracted. For Mark Hutchings, it turns out, is a reptile enthusiast – and his lounge is stuffed full of tanks containing all kinds of snakes, spiders and lizards, which are freaking Dean out. Every time he turns his head, he catches sight of another, and keeps snapping back around to stiff, freaked attention…which doesn't help, since Mark is nursing a python right in front of him.

Sam asks Mark about the last time he saw Frank O'Brien. Monday, says Mark: Frank was watching from his window, and did not respond to Mark's greeting. Sam asks if Sam seemed different, scared, and Mark says totally – he was freaking out.

Sam nods, and glances at Dean, expecting him to pick up the questioning in his turn, but Dean is busy freaking out himself and takes a moment to realise that the room has gone quiet, waiting for him. Catching up, he asks if Mark knows what scared Frank.

"Well, yeah," Mark shrugs. "Witches."

That gets the brothers' attention…at least until Mark clarifies that the Wizard of Oz was on TV the other night, and Frank became convinced that the Wicked Witch of the West was out to get him. So, not such a clue after all, then. What else was Frank scared of? Everything else, says Mark, conversationally. "Al Qaida, ferrets, artificial sweetener…those Pez dispensers with the dead little eyes. Lots of stuff."

Dean is getting tenser and tenser by the moment, and leaves Sam to continue the questioning alone. Sam asks what Frank was like. Mark hesitates and admits that since Frank is dead, he doesn't want to hammer him… "He got better," he announces at length. Sam wonders what this means, and Mark admits that back in high school, Frank was something of a dick. "He probably taped half the town's butt cheeks together. Mine included."

Dean is momentarily amused at the thought, because he has the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old, but then collects himself and summarises that Frank pissed a lot of people off, asking if anyone might have wanted to get revenge. Mark is confused, since Frank supposedly died of a heart attack. Sam employs that tried and tested technique of avoiding complicated explanations by insisting that the witness simply answer the question rather than asking any of his own.

Mark refuses, repeating that Frank got better, after what happened to his wife. The brothers' ears prick up, as they note that Frank was married after all. Mark explains that Frank's wife died about 20 years ago and he was really broken up about it.

And he only just took the wedding ring off? That tells us something. Also…the question the brothers asked was about who Frank was in the present, leading up to his death, rather than what he was like 20 years ago. So for all that Mark claims not to want to speak ill of the dead, the fact that he harks back to Frank's behaviour as a teenager at all speaks volumes for his own ongoing resentment of past bullying, however much he stresses the change in the man in later years.

Mark finally notices that Dean seems uncomfortable at the sight of him cradling a python, and chuckles. "Don't be scared of Donny. He's a sweetheart. It's Marie you've got to look out for – she smells fear."

Right on cue, Marie slithers over the back of the sofa and onto Dean's lap. Dean freezes, freaking right the hell out but trying very hard – unsuccessfully – not to show it.

Jittery and afraid is a symptom, we remember, and three people are dead already.

Night

Dean sits at the wheel of the parked Impala, studying a print out of a news report, scratching fiercely at his left arm.

The passenger door opens, and Dean about jumps out of his skin. Slinging himself into the car, Sam asks what his brother has found, and Dean reports that Frank's wife Jessie was a manic depressive. Interesting that he uses that expression; it has become more fashionable these days to say bipolar, but he is reading from a 20 year old report, of course. Apparently, Jessie O'Brien went off her meds back in 1988 and vanished. She was found two weeks later strung up in a motel room three towns over. Suicide. Sam asks if there is any chance Frank helped his wife along her way, but Dean shakes his head. Frank was working a swing shift when she disappeared and thus had an airtight alibi.

Dean turns the key in the ignition and they drive off.

Road

The Impala is driving rather slowly….

Having briefed Sam on his research, Dean asks what his brother found at Frank's place. Sam shrugs that it was clean. He searched it top to bottom. No EMF, no hex bags and no sulphur.

"So, probably no ghost, no witches, no demons," Dean sighs. "Three down and 97 to go."

Sam wearily agrees, and then has to comment on the speed they are driving at, because it is ridiculous. "Dude. You're going 20."

"And?" Dean does not take the point. Sam points out that this is the speed limit, incredulous. The lower speed limit, he doesn't add. "What? Safety's a crime now?" Dean snips. And Sam has no idea how to respond to that coming from his brother of all people, so says nothing.

But then they drive right on past the Bluebird Hotel, where they are staying, and Sam is even more perplexed.

"Sam, I'm not going to make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic! I'm not suicidal!" Dean snaps. Sam's jaw drops. And Dean replays what he just said and is bemused. "Did I just say that? That's kinda weird."

No kidding, Sam doesn't say, but he is starting to look alarmed – especially since he can hear the EMF meter whining. He digs into a pocket and pulls it out. It whines when pointed at Dean, but then falls silent when pulled away. Now both brothers are alarmed.

"Am I haunted?" Dean frantically flails, eyes wide and terrified. "Am I haunted?"

Bluebird Hotel. Parking lot. Morning

Carrying a box of donuts, Sam finishes up a call to Bobby, having phoned to ask for help. He is on his way back into the hotel, but then hears music coming from the Impala, despite the fact that it looks empty. Frowning, he heads on over.

Mwahahahahah. Sprawled across the front seat, Dean is air drumming along to Eye of the Tiger with gusto. Hee. Bemused, Sam taps on the car roof by way of announcing his presence, and Dean about jumps out of his skin. Again. Starting upright, he snaps the music off, jumps out of the car and shows Sam his arm, on which deep scratches have started to appear.

So, the music and air drum thing was Dean trying to calm himself down, it seems. His eyes are very, very green in this scene: wide and panicked and green.

Sam hands Dean the box of donuts as he explains that he just talked to Bobby. Dean anxiously asks what Bobby said, sniffing the box and tossing it unceremoniously into the car without even opening it.

Dean. Discarding food. Sam's jaw drops (again) and he is totally distracted from what he was saying, which was that Dean isn't going to like what Bobby had to say. Dean nervously draws his brother's attention back to the question, and Sam announces that Bobby has diagnosed ghost sickness.

"Ghost sickness? Oh, God, no," Dean moans, leaning heavily against the car. But then has to admit: "I don't even know what that is." Heh.

Sam exposits that some cultures believed the deceased can infect the living with a disease, which is why they stopped displaying bodies in houses and started taking them off to funeral homes. Dean hurries him along to the 'good stuff'.

"Symptoms are: you get anxious, then scared, then really scared…then your heart gives out," Sam reluctantly explains, watching Dean's anxious reaction very closely. Dean protests that they haven't seen a ghost in weeks, and Sam sighs that he probably didn't catch it from a ghost. "Once the ghost infects that first person, ghost sickness can spread like any illness, through a cough, handshake, whatever. Like the flu." Cheerful thought!

Sam continues that Frank O'Brien was the first to die, and therefore probably the first infected: Patient Zero. Their very own 'outbreak monkey', Dean snorts. Sam continues that Frank and his softball team were Maumee for a tournament over the weekend, where he must have infected the other two victims, who were Cornjerkers, not Gamecocks. And I am impressed with both actors' ability to say that without cracking up.

Dean summarises: a ghost infected Frank, he passed it on to the other two victims, and now Dean has caught the sickness from his corpse. "So, what? Now I have 48 hours before I go insane and my heart stops?"

More like 24, Sam reluctantly admits. Symptoms are already in full force, after all, and started yesterday. Disgruntled, Dean wonders why he was infected and not Sam, who was the one hit with the spleen juice.

Sam admits that he and Bobby have a theory about that, too, and I like the way he shares blame for this one with Bobby, rather than claiming ownership of it himself, given what he is about to say, which he knows Dean will not like. "Turns out all three victims shared a certain, uh…personality type. Frank was a bully. The other two victims: one was a vice-principal; the other was a bouncer." Dean doesn't get it. "Basically, they were all dicks," Sam summarises, although I'm not sure how he gets that from 'vice-principal', to be honest.

Dean does not take kindly to the inference that his brother thinks he is a dick, but Sam just brushes it off and says it isn't just that. "All three victims used fear as a weapon, and now this disease is just returning the favour."

Dean is still not impressed by what this suggests his brother thinks of him, protesting that he doesn't scare people. Sam snorts that all they do is scare people. Dean concedes that point, but feels this should mean that Sam is a dick, too. "Apparently, I'm not," Sam rather smugly concludes.

You know, making the most of an opportunity to poke fun at his brother is one thing – Dean does it often enough himself, of course – but it's kind of bad taste under the circumstances and Sam seems just a little too smug about his theory. He also explains it extremely badly.

It is a pretty big plot hole, when you think about it: the fact that the link between victims really isn't made clear. Maybe it's just that they were all a bit cocky and shared a certain sense of humour, matching the very broad profile of the ghost's killer…but that isn't how the script has Sam explaining it. He is basically calling all three dead men bullies, based on little or no evidence, and is placing his brother under the same heading by association. But I'm pretty certain that isn't how the Show intended it to come across. And, let's face it: Sam himself has become pretty ruthless and intimidating in the last season and a half, and utilises fear as a weapon every bit as much as Dean does, so by that token he should have been equally vulnerable to infection, since I doubt his demonic immunity stretches to spirits.

It would have been far better if Sam had just admitted that he doesn't really know why some people appear vulnerable to the infection while others remain unaffected. After all, we already know that some spirits can be pretty arbitrary in their selection of victims – just look at the Woman in White attacking Sam in the Pilot, despite the fact that he had never been unfaithful to Jessica.

So…yeah, this is one of the bumpiest moments in a plot that has a few too many holes. The story this episode tells is excellent in terms of character and emotion, but the plotting and exposition not so much.

Still disgruntled, Dean gives up the argument and moves on to the more pertinent question of how they stop it. Sam explains that they need to gank the ghost that started it all; if they do that, the sickness should clear up. Both brothers feel that Frank's wife is the obvious suspect, what with the suicide and all. And then Sam wonders what on earth Dean was doing waiting in the parking lot, anyway.

A little abashed, Dean points out that their room is on the fourth floor. Sam does not see why this is a problem. Dean squirms. "It's high," he admits, looking for all the world like a nervous five-year-old owning up to being afraid of the dark.

Oh, bless. So when Sam went to get breakfast, it seems, Dean freaked out about being all alone in a fourth floor room – and came rushing down to the Impala because that car represents home and security and was a place where he could feel safe.

Sam eyes his brother with a combination of disbelief, frustration and tolerance, and says that he will see if he can get them moved down to the ground floor. Dean is even more childlike in his gratitude. So, Sam takes off to see about the room switch, and Dean promptly hops back into the car as if afraid to be left alone in the parking lot – a frightened child all at sea in a world filled with incomprehensible dangers, everywhere he looks. He picks up the box of donuts again and has a look inside this time…but instead of digging in, as would normally be his wont, just crinkles his nose and discards them again.

Dean rejecting food twice in one scene? Now we know for sure that he is sick!

Later. Hotel room

Sam is out and about and Dean, left alone, is trying to research. However, he is very distracted by a clock on the wall, regarding it with deep suspicion as it ticks away. Hey, it's the starburst clock again. We've seen that one a few times, and my parents have one just like it, inherited (don't ask) from my grandfather.

Dean turns his attention back to the book he is studying. He is reading up on ghost sickness, apparently, his book informing us that the illness comes complete with fever, nausea, dehydration, hallucinations and delirium before the eventual, horrible death. Sounds delightful, and is just what he needs to hear, really, given his current condition. The images of victims vomiting blood or lying with their chests ripped open probably aren't much comfort, either. Just as reading about hellhounds mere hours before his date with one only added to his nightmares at the end of last season. There are times when the bliss of ignorance really would be preferable!

Dean coughs, the words swimming and distorting before his eyes as he starts hallucinating. The words you're dying appear on the page in big, bold text, blotting out whatever words are really written there. Again, the book screams. Loser.

Freaking out, Dean scrubs at his eyes, heart pounding. It doesn't help. You gonna cry? his fevered mind taunts him, via the book. Baby gonna cry?

The page swims before his eyes. Above his head, the clock ticks louder and louder, as if counting down the seconds to his latest impending demise, the parallels between his current deadline and the one that so recently landed him in hell profound and disturbing. This illness would be bad enough even without stirring up such traumatic memories – memories which, let's face it, have never been dealt with.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Crash.

A short time later, Sam returns to the hotel room to find the clock smashed on the floor. He glances from the clock to the wall, where it was displayed when he went out, but makes no comment.

Dena is lounging on the sofa with a beer, sarcastically declaring that everything is peachy when Sam asks, and asking in turn if Sam found anything. He has. Jessie O'Brien's body was cremated, and Sam believes this means she is not their ghost.

Has he forgotten Molly, in Roadkill? Her body had also been cremated, but this did not prevent her haunting the road where she died for 15 years. There have been other cases, as well, where the corpse had already been burned but the spirit found something else to cling to, such as the little girl in Provenance.

In this instance, however, Sam seems to feel that cremation automatically rules Jessie out as a suspect: another minor plot hole. Flinging himself dejectedly into a chair, he kicks at Dean's feet and sternly tells him to stop picking at the scratches on his arm. Heh. Nice little moment, and one that feels very real, that moment of role reversal, to have Sam be the one playing parent to Dean's child for a change. He then asks how Dean is feeling.

"Awesome," Dean bitterly snarks. "It's nice to have my head on the chopping block again; I'd almost forgotten what that feels like. Freaking delightful."

Damn, that hurts. Sam has to look away, quietly agrees that it sucks to be here again and fervently assures his brother that they will keep looking.

Notice, though, that Sam isn't making any promises this time, not after failing so spectacularly last time, and then compare his behaviour and attitude throughout this episode to the previous occasions on which Dean's life has been at stake. He is worried, yes, and utterly focused on finding a solution…but there is none of the frantic, panic-stricken desperation that characterised his previous attempts at saving his brother's life. You could argue that his calmness stems from confidence, but it is a very tight deadline and there are no guarantees. However certain he is of finding a solution in time, it is safe to say that the same situation in previous seasons would have resulted in a lot more anxiety on Sam's part. And in this we see, more clearly than ever, just how much Dean's death has changed Sam.

On the surface, the brothers seem to have snapped right back into their old banter and easy companionship, but it is all surface and very little substance. The deep emotional intimacy and intense co-dependency they once shared is no longer there. As delighted as he is to have Dean back, Sam doesn't seem to have fully allowed his brother back in, and we have seen glimpses of that since the start of the season, his immediate reaction to Dean's return subdued and his attitude guarded thereafter. Maintaining a degree of emotional detachment would no doubt be an instinctive form of self-protection, for fear of having to go through the same thing again. Sam was enormously dependent on Dean in all kinds of ways throughout the first three seasons; the loss of that anchor was absolutely shattering, and it is understandable that he would not want to let himself become that dependent again.

Here, with Dean staring down the barrel of his own death all over again, Sam's detachment comes strongly into play, as he works hard to prevent it happening while simultaneously bracing himself for the worst…a worst-case scenario that he has already lived through once, and now knows that he is capable of surviving, however awful it might be.

Dean starts coughing again, this time to the point of choking, which alarms Sam. Dean staggers to his feet and rushes to the sink, where after a moment or two of reflexive gagging he coughs up…a woodchip. Kinda bloody and gross, too, after its passage through his oesophagus.

"We've been completely ignoring the biggest clue we have," Sam exults, lighting up with glee the way he always does when he believes he is onto something. "You."

Dean is disgruntled. "I don't wanna be a clue," he whines. Like I said: fearful five-year-old.

Sam enthuses that the woodchip and the abrasions mean something – the disease is trying to tell them something. Dean gruffly wonders just what a woodchip is supposed to tell them. It tells them: woodchips, Sam enigmatically decides.

Later

Lumber mill

The Impala drives across a patch of woodchips to pull up outside an abandoned lumber mill. Dean looks well and truly spooked as he gets out of the car, peering nervously at the derelict building. "I'm not going in there," he protests.

Sam's face cycles through disbelief, frustration and impatience, and you can see him firmly telling himself to swallow this instinctive reaction and make allowances for the fact that Dean isn't himself right now. "I need backup," he points out. "And you're all I've got. You're going in, Dean."

This is something of a tough love approach that feels very John, Sam trying to push his brother through the fear rather than coddling him, focused on the task at hand and the goal in his sights rather than on attempting to assuage the symptoms in any way. It's a very practical brand of ruthlessness we've seen from Sam before, but taken to a new degree. Throughout this episode, Sam is totally single-minded in his focus on the task at hand, no distractions of any kind allowed, including emotions, to the point where Dean's illness and incapacity are frequently a cause of irritation rather than concern, with only a scant few moments of brotherly reassurance. And that emotional dissociation is highly reminiscent of John. Sam really has become the soldier he never wanted to be.

Dean reaches back into the car, pulls out a bottle of whisky and gulps down a quick mouthful or three, and then declares himself ready to go in. Dutch courage. Sam rolls his eyes.

You know, Sam knows the symptoms of this illness, has already described its progression more than once…yet now that he is witnessing it first hand, he constantly seems surprised by how debilitating the ghost induced fear actually is.

"It's a little spooky, isn't it?" Dean confidentially asides as he opens the trunk. Sam says nothing: just shrugs it off, focuses on what needs to be done and gathers weapons. He offers Dean his favourite handgun…but Dean recoils. "Oh, I'm not carrying that," he protests, alarmed. "It could go off!"

Sam's patience is wearing thin and it shows, all attempt at tolerance outweighed by his frustration that Dean isn't being Dean when he needs him to, his brother's uncharacteristic fears and incapacitation an unwanted and unwelcome distraction from Sam's focus on the task at hand. And Sam has to focus completely on the task at hand because once again he finds himself carrying the weight of responsibility for saving his brother's life, deadline fast approaching, and he failed spectacularly last time. He has to detach himself from the consequences of failure and remain focused on assembling clues and solving the mystery, because that detachment will both increase his efficiency and protect him should he fail…but having to work around Dean's condition along the way makes it hard to achieve. Dean cannot help his steady deterioration, but you can see Sam longing for his brother to just snap out of it and start helping already.

"I'll man the flashlight," Dean decides, clutching said flashlight to his chest and looking more than ever like a five-year-old trying hard to be brave and helpful and not get in the way.

For all that Dean acts like a twelve-year-old at times, this is a side of his brother that Sam really hasn't encountered before – Dean was the grown-up to his child for most of their upbringing – and the disorientation of seeing his brother like this can only add to his frustration. He struggles for a moment, smiles tightly, and agrees that the flashlight can be Dean's job. So in they go.

Lumber mill – inside

Sam leads the way, shotgun at the ready, while Dean backs him up with a shaky flashlight. The EMF whines, and Sam pulls it out of his pocket…but since Dean is standing right next to him, he can't really assess what it is telling him. Then he notices that Dean's hand is hovering over his arm and is incredulous. Dean quickly snatches his hand away, chagrined, and points out that the EMF isn't going to work with him around. Sam puts it away, and they continue to investigate the derelict building.

You know…I kinda think that even at the height of the action in No Rest For The Wicked, if Dean had wanted to cling to Sam's arm and draw comfort from that contact, Sam would have let him. Not now, though. Here, again, he just seems irritated that Dean's illness is preventing him from doing his job effectively.

Spotting something on the floor, Sam shoves a hand out to tell Dean to wait a moment, and Dean jumps out of his skin in shock yet again, which startles Sam in turn. Sighing his frustration, Sam bends down to retrieve the item he spotted on the floor – Frank O'Brien's missing wedding ring. Dean wonders what the hell Frank was doing here, and Sam equally has no idea.

This is never explained, and it is one of the biggest bumps in what is, as mentioned, something of a bumpy plot. We are never told what started all this. How did Frank come to be infected by the ghost sickness in the first place? Did he come out here to the lumber mill for some reason, run into the spirit, and lose his ring in the process, the encounter somehow triggering the outbreak? But why, after 20 years? It makes as little sense as Sam's illogical theory for the link between victims.

The brothers continue searching the building. A faint banging sound draws their attention to a row of lockers, and Dean shakes his head in silent fear and denial as Sam reaches for the handle of one of these lockers, but bravely steels his nerve as Sam mouths that he will open the door on three. One. Two. Three.

'Miaow!' yowls the cat that for some reason was trapped inside the locker.

Dean screams like a little girl…or maybe more like a freight train. Sam lifts an incredulous eyebrow. "That was scary!" Dean proclaims, more and more childlike by the minute.

There are moments in this episode where you can tell that Jensen Ackles wasn't entirely comfortable with the material, having to take Dean so far out of character and directed to play it over the top, for laughs. He does an excellent job, his facial expressions and reactions hilarious throughout. But over and above the humour, for me, is the way the illness strips away all of Dean's usual macho posturing and cockiness and reveals this incredibly sweet and childlike vulnerability which is just heartbreaking. However much any given scene might be played for laughs, it is clear throughout that Dean is absolutely terrified: beautifully subtle acting.

It is that childlike vulnerability that Sam seems to find especially difficult to deal with, however – maybe because it threatens to stir up emotions that he can't afford to deal with right now and must therefore repress – hand-in-hand with Dean's inability to do his job effectively in a situation when time is of the essence. And it's worth remembering that he was a hell of a lot more patient and understanding of Dean's fears in Phantom Traveler, for example, although to be fair Dean's fears were nowhere near as debilitating in that episode – the deadline was a lot tighter, though. Tight-lipped, and again more annoyed than understanding, Sam stalks out of the room. Wondering why his brother is so irritated, Dean hurries after him.

The brothers' search leads them to another room, this one littered with papers. Sam finds an ID badge for a former employee of the lumber mill: one Luther Garland, a general labourer, whose contract, the badge informs us, expired in March 1989. Dean, meanwhile, finds a pile of sketches on another table, and realises that they are pictures of Frank O'Brien's wife, Jessie. He picks up one of the sketches…but it is pinned by a weight on the table and tears. Instantly, the lumber mill rattles into life, blades and treadmills whirring and trundling away.

Alarmed, the brothers jump. Over Sam's shoulder, Dean sees something – a man standing in the corner with his back to them. He freezes, wide, terrified eyes fixed on the apparition. Sam notices the look on his face and turns to see what is wrong, hastily bringing his shotgun to bear when he sees the man.

Sam advances on the man with caution, while Dean quakes with fear behind him. Sam tries calling to get the man's attention, but gets no response, and then turns to see how Dean is bearing up…

Dean is no longer there. He is out of the door and running for his life.

Sam sighs his frustration once more, and then turns to see that the spirit has now turned to face him. Luther Garland. The ghost glowers menacingly and starts to rush toward Sam, who hurriedly blows it away with the shotgun.

Outside

Crouching on the floor behind the Impala, Dean finishes off that bottle of whisky. That's a lot of liquor to knock back in one go!

Sam rejoins him, waving Luther Garland's ID, and rather redundantly announces that it seems they have come to the right place. Dean does not look reassured, which is fair enough, since, let's face it, the other three victims all managed to get scared to death even without coming face to face with any actual ghosts!

Sheriff's Office

Very Young Deputy brings the Garland file over to Sam, and then notices Dean lurking behind his partner, absent-mindedly scratching his arm and swaying gently with eyes at half-mast. "Is he…drunk?" the youngster enquires, startled and a little horrified at the notion of an FBI agent drunk on duty.

Alarmed at the thought of whatever Dean might be doing to inspire this query, Sam hurriedly glances over his shoulder at his brother, who offers a drunken thumbs up and half-smile. He turns back to Very Young Deputy with a crisp and firm "no." Heh. Deny everything.

Very Young Deputy looks unconvinced, but Sam distracts him from Dean by drawing his attention to the case file. Luther Garland's cause of death is listed as 'physical trauma', which is pretty vague. Sam asks for clarification, but Very Young Deputy points out that he is Very Young, that Luther Garland died 20 years ago, and that therefore he doesn't have a clue. Apparently, everyone in this town is half-assed about their jobs – or maybe just resent supposed FBI interference – as he makes no offer of assistance in finding out more.

Frustrated, Sam asks if they can talk to the Sheriff. Very Young Deputy evades that the Sheriff is out sick today. Irritated, since this case seems determined to thwart him at every juncture and they are on a tight deadline, Sam asks Very Young Deputy to get the Sheriff to call them at the Bluebird if he hears from him, then helps himself to the file and stalks out.

Left behind, Dean is studying his hand with detached curiosity, as if he has never seen it before. Heh. We have never seen Dean drunk before. We've seen him drinking heavily, but we've never seen him drunk. So now we get to find out that the combination of drink and illness render him utterly goofy – he seems stoned, more than drunk. "Know what?" he woozily calls to Very Young Deputy. "You're awesome."

Very Young Deputy is delighted by such praise, his pink little face lighting up like a Christmas tree and all his concerns about the drunk FBI agent melting away in the glow of approval as he awkwardly returns the sentiment. Dean beams, drunkenly…and then Sam returns to haul him out before he can say anything else.

Once the brothers have gone, the Sheriff buzzes through on the intercom to suspiciously ask who was there. Very Young Deputy explains that it was 'those FBI guys' and that they came for the Luther Garland file. Silence greets this information.

In his office, the Sheriff scrubs furiously at his bloody arm with wire wool. Apparently, hand sanitizer was no longer making him feel clean enough. Frantic with paranoia, he snatches up his gun and starts loading it.

"They know," his own voice whispers. The Sheriff whips around and aims the gun at his reflection in one of the trophies in his cabinet. "They know what you did," the reflection ominously whispers at him. "And they're gonna make you pay."

Peaceful Pines Assisted Living

As the brothers round a corner, Dean about jumps out of his skin with shock at almost running into a little old lady pushing a drip stand, and he skitters away from her in panic. Sam is getting seriously fed up of his brother's jitteriness, but nonetheless rests a reassuring hand on his back, just for a moment, by way of hurrying him on.

You know, if ghost sickness is contagious, and we know that it is…surely it would be better if Sam left Dean quarantined back at the hotel room, so that he can't infect anyone else they come into contact with, instead of dragging him out and about on the job despite knowing that the terror inspired by the illness renders him unfit for work anyway. No doubt his focus on finding a cure for Dean is so absolute that the possibility of infecting others (and not finding a cure in time to help them, too) has not occurred to him. But maybe also Sam just feels more comfortable keeping Dean where he can see him, despite his frustration with the effect the illness is having on his brother.

Dean grumbles that this isn't going to work. "I mean, come on – these badges are fake. What if we get busted?" he frets. "We could go to jail!"

Sam's tenuous hold on his patience snaps. "Dean, shhh!" he snaps. If anyone overhears them talking about how fake their FBI badges are, they really will be busted. "Calm down," he firmly instructs his brother, despite knowing that it really isn't that simple, working hard to calm himself down and not lose his temper. "Deep breath, okay?"

Dean obediently sucks a few deep breaths in and out in time with Sam, who asks if he feels better. Dean shakes his head, all big, worried eyes peering up at Sam through long lashes. Five years old.

Sam swallows his frustration and hurries his brother along again. "Don't scratch," he adds as they go, and then frowns his disbelief when Dean's hand reaches out to clutch at his sleeve again. Again, Dean hastily snatches the hand back the moment he sees Sam's incredulous reaction, as if caught doing something wrong, and it saddens me to see Sam so disconnected and so intensely case-focused that he can't even allow his brother that tiny crumb of comfort in his distress.

In a large, mostly deserted common room, the brothers find the man they have come to see: Luther Garland's brother. Garland eyes the brothers shrewdly and asks to see some ID. Dean is alarmed, but Sam smoothly agrees and pulls out his badge, motioning to Dean to do likewise. The badges are handed over, and Garland studies them shrewdly, while Dean's anxiety gets the better of him and he starts babbling about how very real they are and how nutty anyone would have to be to pretend to be an FBI agent.

Sam stamps on his brother's foot to shut him up. Heh. We've seen that one before!

Garland hands the badges back, apparently satisfied in spite of Dean's babbling, and wonders what they want to know. Sam pulls out Luther's file and notes again that the cause of death is listed as 'physical trauma'. Garland snorts, and Sam wonders what he would call it. Garland dejectedly sighs that it doesn't matter what an old man thinks. Sam, who is having to work extra hard to pick up Dean's slack with the witnesses and is doing an excellent job of it, smoothly insists that they just want to learn the truth.

Garland picks his brother's ID card out of the file and gazes at the picture as he sadly explains that everyone was scared of Luther and called him a monster. "He was too big, too mean-looking…just too different."

He doesn't say, but it is heavily implied that Luther had some kind of learning disability – just capable enough to hold down a menial job, but not capable enough to fit into normal society. And that makes a little more sense of the state of very simple and childlike vulnerability Dean has been reduced to; it's how Luther would have gone through his entire life.

"Didn't matter that he was the kindest man I ever knew. Didn't matter that he never hurt no one," Garland continues over flashbacks of Luther hesitantly going about his business at the lumber mill, being given hostile and fearful looks by those around him, and petting a kitten that was probably the several times great-grandmother of the cat Dean and Sam met earlier. "A lot of people failed Luther," he tearfully admits. "I was one of them. I was a widower with three young'uns, and…I told myself there was nothing I could do."

Whenever siblings are featured as part of any given case on this show, there are always strong parallels to be drawn with the Winchester brothers' situation. And so we see here: like Luther Garland, both brothers, in very different ways, have faced prejudice and hostility from people who judged them based on appearances and hearsay alone – Sam especially in recent seasons, considered prey by fellow hunters based solely on what little they knew of Azazel's plans for him. And each has been faced with the crippling guilt of having failed his brother in much the same way the older Garland brother is so bitterly regretting here.

Sam shows Garland the sketch of Jessie O'Brien they found at the mill, and Garland announces that it was Jessie's husband Frank who killed Luther. Sam asks how he knows and Garland tersely says that everybody knew – they just don't talk about it.

Cue more flashbacks as Garland explains that Jessie was a receptionist at the mill. She was always nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her – which Frank didn't like. So when Jessie went missing, Frank was convinced that Luther had done something to her. "Turns out the old gal killed herself, but Frank didn't know that."

Man, this scene is heavy on the exposition.

More flashbacks, this time with no dialogue or voiceover of any kind. Frank went to the lumber mill with a shotgun one evening, when Luther was apparently there in the office alone – maybe on night watchman duty. Frank saw the sketches of Jessie Luther had pinned all over the walls and snapped. He beat Luther and knocked him out…and Luther woke up to find a chain wrapped around his neck. The chain was fastened to Frank's car, and he drove off dragging Luther down the road by the neck, killing him.

How soon after Luther's grisly demise did the lumber mill shut down, I wonder? After all, Luther's sketches of Jessie O'Brien were left scattered around the place, which implies that it was abandoned very soon after his death, which begs the question of just what brought the closure about. Maybe the double tragedy of Luther and Jessie's deaths were a blow the owner and workforce were unable to recover from? Who knows? The full story is never really fully explained.

"They found Luther with a chain wrapped around his neck," Garland explains, back in the present, voice thick with emotion. "He was dragged up and down the stretch outside that plant till he was past dead."

Sam looks stricken at the thought of what happened to Luther, and maybe also affected by Garland's emotion at the memory of his brother's fate, remembering his own very recent grief and sense of failure. Dean wonders why O'Brien was never arrested, and Garland bitterly explains that he screamed at every cop in town, but they weren't interested in blaming O'Brien for Luther's death. "He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just a damn freak."

Sam remarks that Garland must have hated Frank O'Brien, and he admits that he did for a long time. "But life's too short for hate, son," he smiles and shrugs. "Frank wasn't thinking straight. His wife had vanished; he was terrified. Damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but…that's fear. It spreads and spreads."

Ain't that the truth! Watching this episode for the first time, I wondered if maybe this old man was somehow responsible for triggering the ghost sickness – he seems so knowing. But it seems not, so I'm not sure what to make of him; some of his lines are played with more nuance than maybe is called for.

Outside

Darkness is falling as the brothers make their way back out of the building. Dean grumbles that at least now he knows what the scratches on his arms are: road rash. "And I'm guessing Luther swallowed some woodchips when he was being dragged down that road."

"It makes sense," Sam agrees. "You're experiencing his death in slow motion."

Nasty. Although…Luther died from his injuries as a result of being road-hauled, not from a heart attack as a result of his terror. So it doesn't completely fit.

"Not slow enough," Dean fervently remarks, not looking at all well. Fever and nausea are symptoms of the illness. "Sam, let's burn some bones and get me healthy."

But Sam quietly says that he doesn't think it will be that easy.

"No, no. It'll be that easy," Dean insists, not wanting to hear any negative thoughts right now and alarmed by such pessimism. "Why won't it be that easy?"

Sam points out that Luther was road-hauled. "His body was ripped to pieces. He was probably scattered all over that road. There's no way we're going to find all the remains."

Ick. I'm not entirely sure how logical this conclusion is, but don't much want to ponder it. Dean looks sick at the thought. And, you know – there isn't really any good way to say it, but it occurs to me that 'his body was ripped to pieces' probably isn't the most delicate phrasing to use, hot on the heels of 'you're experiencing his death in slow motion', and to someone who has already had their body ripped to pieces, not so very long ago, and is currently experiencing profound terror.

Sam softly, tiredly says that they will just have to figure something else out, but Dean has hit breaking point. "You know what: screw this," he announces. Sam is alarmed and protests, but Dean carries on. "No, come on, Sam. What are we doing?"

"We're hunting ghosts," Sam points out. And, you know, he has seemed pretty frustrated with Dean numerous times in this episode, but is wonderfully calm and patient in this scene. Not that it makes any difference to Dean, either way.

"A ghost! Exactly! Who does that?" Dean all but wails. They do, Sam evenly reminds him. "Us, right!" Dean agrees, frantic. "And that, Sam, is exactly why our lives suck. I mean, come on – we hunt monsters! What the hell? I mean, normal people, they see a monster and they run, but not us, no, no, no. We search out things that want to kill us! Yeah, huh? Or eat us. You know who does that? Crazy people! We are insane!"

Sam stands and regards his brother impassively throughout this little outburst, not that he has much opportunity to get any words in edgeways.

"You know, then there's the bad diner food," Dean continues, pacing fretfully. And, man, I love the way Jensen Ackles acts with his entire body, voice included. "And the skeevy motel rooms, and then the truck stop waitress with the bizarre rash…! I mean, who wants this life, Sam? Huh? Seriously? I mean, do you actually like being stuck in a car with me eight hours a day, every single day?"

Sam just shrugs, like he'd have to stop and think about that one. It's not really something he questions any more; it's just the way things are.

"I don't think so!" Dean barrels on. "I mean, I drive too fast and I listen to the same five albums over and over and over again, and, and, and I sing along, I'm annoying, I know that. And you…you're gassy! You eat half a burrito and you get toxic, I mean, you know what? You can forget it."

Dean tosses the keys to Sam, who catches them automatically, startled. Then Dean turns and marches away, and Sam is alarmed, asks where he is going – the ranting was one thing, but he wasn't expecting this.

"Stay away from me, Sam," Dean frets. "Okay? 'Cause I am done with it. I'm done with the monsters, and, and, and the hellhounds and the ghost sickness and the damn Apocalypse! I'm out. I'm done."

He takes off, and Sam is left almost breathless with disbelief at what just happened.

So how much of that was really Dean talking and how much the disease? It is clear from what we see of Dean and the Sheriff's experience, and what we know of Frank O'Brien's, that the illness unearths all kinds of concerns from the subconscious, magnifying and distorting them beyond all recognition…but also randomly generates fear where none previously existed, based on whatever the victims happen to come into contact with during the course of their illness. After all, I doubt Frank O'Brien really had any secret Pez dispenser-phobia, or that Dean has ever thought twice about making a left-hand turn into oncoming traffic in his life.

Although much of this rant was drawn from genuine frustrations, many of which have been touched on before, Dean's reaction to those underlying and low-level frustrations has been distorted out of all recognition by his illness. All his internal filters have been turned off and he finds himself tail-spinning, completely out of control and defenceless – and terrified by it all.

Street

Dean stomps along, loosening his collar and tie as he goes. He hears growling behind him, and freezes, face filled with dread as he slowly turns around…

…and there's that Yorkie again, and Dean freaks out, and we are back where we started.

And it is as funny now as it was at the start of the episode to see Dean fleeing in terror from a teeny tiny Yorkshire terrier…but now that humour is tempered by a very dark undercurrent. This sickness makes people terrified of things they would not normally be afraid of…but it also plays on existing fears, twisting and distorting them. And now we realise that Dean's reaction to this little dog stems from his grisly death at the claws of Lilith's hellhound – his fevered mind believes that it is the hellhound all over again. And it was a deeply traumatic experience that he has had little or no opportunity to come to terms with, the memory of which would be horrific enough even without hallucinating any action replays.

Later. Bluebird hotel

Dean is sitting alone in the dark trying not to hyperventilate when Sam gets back. Worried, Sam accusingly complains that he's been looking everywhere for his brother and asks how the hell he got back, a question that makes me wonder just how far it was from the retirement home to the hotel. Dean tremulously admits that he ran. Sam sighs and swallows his frustration once more and sits down. Again: he's finding it really hard to deal with Dean being like this, barely functional, but doesn't even have the luxury of being properly annoyed about it because it isn't Dean's fault…and they are running out of time.

Dean timidly asks what Sam wants to do now. "I've got less than four hours on the clock." Sam lets out a deep breath and doesn't look at his brother, eyes fixed front and centre as he contemplates the very strong likelihood of failing all over again. "I'm going to die, Sammy," Dean quavers.

"Yeah, you are," Sam quietly agrees, and Dean is taken aback. Ominous background music of This Is A Hallucination starts to play as Sam rather perkily shrugs that Dean is going back to hell. "It's about damn time, too. Truth is, you've been a real pain in my ass." Dean's vision starts to swim as Sam's eyes flash yellow.

Dean is alarmed and jumps to his feet, but Sam waves a hand and knocks him back against the wall, demon-style. Dean howls his denial, ranting at the demon to get out of his brother. But Sam just laughs, his voice deepening and distorting as he blithely taunts that no one is possessing him, but that this is what he is going to become – what he wants to become. And there is nothing Dean can do about it. Eyes glowing yellow, he rests a hand on Dean's shoulder, then seizes him by the throat and starts to squeeze.

Dean chokes and gasps…and then suddenly snaps back to reality, with an anxious and puppy-eyed Sam trying to calm him down before he hyperventilates.

I wonder how much of the hallucination content was apparent to Sam, watching from the outside? Also, I am very impressed by Jared Padalecki's ability to switch so rapidly between the harshness of Hallucination Sam and the gentleness of Real Sam, and how visible the switch is.

Dean is severely shaken by this latest and most terrifying hallucination. Taken at face value, this is probably the most disturbing of the lot, and yet it doesn't really reveal anything new about Dean's fears, the illness instead tapping into all kinds of issues that he has had simmering away beneath the surface for some time now, all of which we either already knew or had predicted.

We already knew, for example, that Dean was afraid of the demonic source of Sam's powers and what might happen if his brother gives in to them – Sam has expressed the same fear himself many times in the past: that being a good person might not be enough to prevent him turning into something else as a result of what Azazel did to him. It is understandable that finding out about Sam's lies, demonic alliances and experimentation with his powers would have shaken Dean's previously solid faith in his brother's ability to resist his dark destiny, with Castiel's dire yet enigmatic warning adding a whole new level of worry. We also already knew all about Dean's deep-seated abandonment complex and how much he fears rejection by his brother, and that this insecurity was stirred up once more by his discovery of Sam's deception and alliance with Ruby. And he has been attacked by demons wearing the bodies of his loved ones enough times in the past for such painful memories to be an easy target for this terror-inducing sickness.

So no, there isn't really anything new here, the illness simply taking Dean's underlying fears of where Sam's powers come from and what Azazel intended for his brother and tangling them up with traumatic memories and with his abandonment complex and his concerns over Sam's recent deception, magnifying and distorting everything that he most fears and most doesn't want to happen, until you end up with this terrifying mess, all jumbled up and amplified by fever and delirium.

Morning

Sam lounges on the hood of the Impala in the middle of nowhere randomly throwing stones at some unseen nearby target, waiting. Bobby's Chevelle pulls up behind him and he snaps to attention, thanks Bobby for making the trip so quickly.

Where are we again? Colorado? How far is that from South Dakota, and just how long would it take Bobby to make the journey? When did he set out, I wonder?

Bobby asks where Dean is, and Sam hems and haws a bit before admitting that his brother is at home, sick. Of course, Bobby already knew that Dean is sick, since that was the whole point of his making this trip, but clearly was still expecting him to be present for the resolution of the case.

Bluebird hotel

In the brothers' hotel room, Dean – who does indeed look sick – is fretting in front of cartoons, scratching feverishly at the road rash on his arm.

He is horrified to see a toy horse on the TV get lassoed around the neck and dragged down the street by a car – way too close to home – and groans that this really isn't helping.

Middle of nowhere

I think the middle of nowhere might actually be another part of the lumber mill exterior, but it really isn't clear from this shot!

Bobby asks if Dean's hallucinations have started yet, and Sam nods that yes they have, a few hours ago. Wanting a clear picture of where they stand, Bobby asks how they are doing for time, and Sam explains that he and Dean saw the coroner at about 8am on Monday, which leaves them just under two hours.

So, it is now a little after 6am on Wednesday, then. Nice, useless information, that. Except that Mark Hutchings was supposed to be the last person to see Frank O'Brien alive and he said that was on a Monday…but if the brothers then saw Frank's body on a Monday, and he had been dead for three days at that point, the timing seems a little off! Three days plus 48 hours makes five days, not seven.

Sam anxiously asks if Bobby has found anything, and Bobby hands him an elderly encyclopaedia of spirits. The book is in Japanese, and Sam is incredulous. "You can read Japanese?"

By way of reply, Bobby spits out a phrase of Japanese. It sounds like he is calling Sam an idjit, but I am informed that he is actually saying 'since before you were born'. Heh.

"Guess so, show off," Sam snorts. Hee.

It is good to see Sam working with Bobby, something that doesn't happen all that often. They have never had the same kind of close relationship that Bobby has with Dean, but nonetheless the easy-going banter that they've got going on here is good to see, especially in the wake of Sam rejecting Bobby so completely after Dean's death. Healing for them both, perhaps.

But with Dean now less than two hours from death (again) the easy humour displayed here is also another reminder of Sam's emotional detachment. He is very worried about his brother and very anxious to find a cure, but there isn't a trace of the panicked frenzy that has accompanied Dean's numerous near death experiences in the past. Instead, he seems very calm and very closed-off, working toward a positive resolution while preparing himself for the possibility of failure.

Bobby explains that this book lists the kind of ghost that Luther Garland could well be – a spirit that infects people with fear. It's called a buru-buru, which may or may not be spelled like that. Sam is less interested in what it is called and more interested in how to kill it. Same as usual, Bobby says: burn the remains. Having already come to the conclusion that this is not possible, although without even trying it to make sure, Sam wearily sighs his despair and asks if there is a Plan B.

"Well," Bobby muses, clearly having been mulling over this question throughout his long journey. "The buru-buru is born of fear – hell, it is fear. And the lore says you can kill it with fear."

"So, we have to scare a ghost to death," Sam summarises. Yep, Bobby agrees – that's pretty much it.

There is a very pretty establishing shot from distance of the two of them leaning against the Impala contemplating the odds of being able to pull this off inside the next two hours.

"How the hell are we going to do that?" Sam expostulates.

Bluebird Hotel

Dean is still watching cartoons when his phone rings. Aww, it's been a while since we heard that ringtone – season two, in fact!

"Hey, so, uh, just ride out the trip," Sam breezily instructs him. "You're gonna be fine; we've got a plan."

Frowning, Dean turns the TV off and anxiously asks what this plan is. Just a good plan, Sam vagues, since Dean is in no condition for details and time is of the essence. He firmly tells his brother to hang in there.

Lumber mill

Sam hangs up. "This is a terrible plan," Bobby says. "I know I said scare the ghost to death, but this?"

Sam snorts that he is open to any better suggestions Bobby might have. Bobby's got nothing, however, so Sam's plan it is.

Aside from his emotional guardedness, this episode also emphasises just how capable a hunter Sam has become in his own right. Although it is Bobby who provides the final clue as to how they might defeat the spirit, it is Sam who takes that information and turns it into a plan – in fact, as great as it is to get a couple of scenes with Bobby in at the end of this episode, he really is present purely for the sake of having him there. It would have been easy for the Show to have Sam unearth this information and act upon it on his own, without making any material difference to the plot.

Sam's story here is all about how very independent he is these days. Throughout the episode, with Dean effectively incapacitated, Sam has slid without hesitation into the driver's seat on the case, working the job calmly and efficiently and with great aplomb. Once upon a time he was very much the junior member of the team, heavily dependent on his brother in almost every way. But times have changed. Sam no longer needs Dean the way he used to, for all that he mostly still defers to his brother's leadership under normal circumstances, out of both habit and respect.

He still loves Dean deeply, of course, and is determined to save his life, but the dynamic between them has changed enormously. They can never go back to how things were, and it remains to be seen how long it will take for them to find a new way of fitting together, as the ups and downs of the season progress. I suspect that this season will see a gradual process of the brothers learning that they can want to stay together as brothers and partners without having to need one another as intensely as they have in the past. It is the next step out of that co-dependency of the past toward a more healthy relationship – but it is certain that there will be all kinds of angst and trauma long the way!

Sam heads into the mill alone and starts wandering around, looking for Luther.

Nearby, unseen, Luther watches him and is cautious.

Bluebird hotel

Left alone to 'ride out the trip' – or to die all alone if his brother fails – Dean sits and frets…and is alarmed to hear hellhounds howling and barking somewhere nearby. Hallucination, ahoy. He leaps out of his chair and cowers behind it as the barking intensifies and imaginary hellhounds start pounding and pounding on the door.

Hellhounds are a theme that keeps repeating in Dean's hallucinations, over and over and over, his most traumatic recent memory and also clearly his greatest current fear: that of repeating the experience and ending up back in hell again.

The door flies open, and it turns out that part wasn't a hallucination after all. Vision swimming, Dean blinks in confusion at Sheriff Al Britton and the gun in his hand, wondering what he is doing, busting in here like this.

The Sheriff demands to know why the brothers are looking into Luther Garland's death, the words distorted but comprehensible to Dean's befuddled mind. Dean wonders what he is talking about, but then sees the man's bloody sleeve and realises – rather belatedly – that he is ghost sick, too. He shows the Sheriff his own arms and tries to explain that he needs to relax, but instead the Sheriff takes a swing at him and sends him reeling.

The Sheriff yells that Frank O'Brien was his friend and he made a mistake, so the Sheriff didn't bust him for it – so what? "And you're going to bring me down over that? No, sir." He raises his gun…but Dean immediately panics and knocks it out of his hand.

Disarmed, the Sheriff lunges at Dean and pins him to the wall with an arm pressed against his throat, trying to throttle him. Although terrified, Dean struggles and fights back, and they each manage to get in a few hefty blows. Then Dean's distorted, delirious vision shows him the Sheriff with black, demon-possessed eyes and he freaks out, shoving the older man away.

The Sheriff goes down hard across the coffee table, which smashes beneath his weight. And now he has something new to be afraid of – Dean. As Dean hovers, too sick and confused to know what to do, the Sheriff panics and clutches at his chest, yelling at Dean to get away from him. Realising what is happening, Dean tries to get the man to calm down, but it is too late – the Sheriff's fear gets the better of him, and his heart gives out.

Left alone with the corpse, Dean shrinks away in terror.

Lumber mill

Shotgun at the ready, Sam makes his way to the office where he encountered Luther's spirit previously, but there is no sign of the ghost this time. Bobby's voice crackles through on the walkie-talkie he is carrying (hee!) asking if he's had any luck. Sam sighs in response that he doesn't know what is wrong – last time the ghost came right at them. "It's almost like he's…like he's scared."

Well, that is what they want to achieve, but they were hoping for something a little larger scale than just being too scared to come out and meet them. As Bobby wonders now what, Sam places his shotgun down on the floor and shrugs that he will have to make the spirit angry.

He knows how to do that, of course, remembering what set it off last time. So, he hurries over to the pile of Luther's sketches and starts ripping them up, shouting to Luther as he works.

The lumber mill creaks into life. And then, finally, Luther manifests right behind Sam, and wow – Sam doesn't often meet someone who can dwarf him! He barely has time to react before the spirit has seized and tossed him.

Bluebird hotel

Bless him, Dean has taken a blanket off one of the beds to cover the Sheriff's corpse (although a trailing arm remains exposed) and sits nervously on the edge of the other bed, scratching furiously at his arm and casting anxious glances at the body, no doubt fearing the absolute worst: that he is going to die very soon in the exact way that he just witnessed, all alone.

Hallucinatory voices – a distorted version of Sam's voice – start taunting him. You're going back…it's about time, too. Castiel threatened to send him back, and we saw the effect that threat had on him – he was terrified of going back to hell even before this illness, so can only imagine how much worse that terror is now. His conscious mind might shy away from those memories, instinctively protecting itself, but that does not make the dread any less.

Off in the distance, hellhounds bark and growl. Heart pounding, Dean clamps a hand over his watch face so that he can't see it, reminder as it is of his imminent deadline – and then notices something sticking out from under the bed. It is a Bible. At his wit's end, he kisses the spine and clings to it, desperately hanging on to the fact of his divine salvation as the only possible lifeline he can see right now.

"Hi, Dean," a childish voice pipes up. It is Lilith…or at least a hallucination of Lilith, sitting on the bed beside Dean wearing the body of the little blonde girl we saw her dressed up in back in No Rest For The Wicked. My, that child has shot up since the spring!

Dean gasps in terror and cringes away from the little girl, clutching at the Bible like a shield, unable even to look at her, grunting his denial.

"Yes!" the little girl squeals. "It's me – Lilith!" She grabs hold and hugs him, and Dean cringes and refuses to look at her. "Oh, I missed you so much! It's time to go back now," she perks, and those words give him the strength he needs to pull away from her embrace and get some distance between them.

"You are not real," he insists, gesticulating with the Bible he is still clutching, still unable to look her in the face.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Lilith pouts. "Don't you remember all the fun you had down there?" Stricken with dread, Dean slowly turns his eyes toward her, horrified by the implication. "You do remember," Lilith firmly tells him, standing up and advancing toward him. "Four months is like forty years in hell. Like doggy years. And you remember every second."

This is also a fascinating hallucination, because we know that Dean has no conscious memory of his time in hell…but we also know that he has been having nightmares about it, which means that the memories do exist, buried someplace deep within, and that his subconscious is becoming increasingly aware of them. So it is impossible to know how much of his hallucination is drawn directly from those repressed memories – the implication that Lilith played an active part in his torture, for example, and the suggestion of how long four months in hell felt like – and how much is simply what he is afraid might have happened.

It does seem clear from the hallucination that Dean is very afraid his death will automatically result in his return to hell, no matter how he dies, that his salvation will only last as long as his life does. I'm not sure this is true – after all, payment for his deal has already been made, so Lilith should no longer have any claim on him. But the fear is more than understandable, after everything he has been through, especially when reinforced by Castiel's threat to send him back.

What is also becoming increasingly clear as the season progresses, unsurprisingly, is that Dean's memories of his time in hell are going to emerge sooner or later and that it is going to be intensely traumatic when that happens. And it isn't as if he doesn't have enough on his plate already! It is also worth wondering how much of a factor Dean's memories of hell and fear of returning might play later in the season. If he is that afraid of being sent back, maybe as a result of failing in the task for which he was resurrected, then keeping Sam from using his Azazel-given powers could well become as much about Dean saving himself as saving Sam.

Dean's vision is swimming again now, and he doubles over, clutching at his chest. It's always the heart, with Dean. Lilith stands with arms folded across her chest and watches with satisfaction as he sinks to the floor gasping that she is not real.

Lilith grabs his chin and forces him to look at her again. "It doesn't matter," she menaces, eyes white. "You're still going to die. You're still going to burn."

Point made, she releases him and smiles brightly. "Why me? Dean protests. "Why'd I get infected?"

"Silly goose," Lilith shrugs, hands on hips. "You know why, Dean. Listen to your heart."

Interesting. The strong implication here is that Dean's subconscious is aware of just why he was vulnerable to this illness, even if his conscious mind isn't – and that it maybe stems from something that happened to him in hell.

Dean doesn't understand. Lilith leans over him menacingly as he cowers on the floor. "Ba-boom. Ba-boom. Ba-boom," she taunts.

Well into the end stage of his illness now, mere moments remaining, Dean falls over onto his back, clutching at his chest.

Lumber mill

Luther tosses Sam around like a rag doll. Sam tries frantically to crawl toward a duffle bag on the floor, but Luther keeps dragging him away. Sam crawls; Luther drags. Sam crawls; Luther drags.

The fight continues.

Bluebird hotel

"Ba-boom! Ba-boom! Ba-Boom!" Lilith shouts.

Lumber mill

On his back in the dirt, Sam manages to grab hold of a thick iron chain and quickly wraps it around Luther's neck.

I thought iron disperses ghosts? We've seen it do so before, certainly. This time, however, it seems to trap him – and he is absolutely terrified.

Sam yells at Bobby, outside, to "punch it" and Bobby instantly starts the engine. He's driving the Impala! Woot!

Damn, the unfortunate Luther gets road-hauled all over again. That's brutal. He was a simple soul who did not deserve his grisly fate the first time around, so to have him put through it again is horrible…but then again, he has been re-enacting the terror of his death on other men apparently just because they remind him of his killer, and none of them deserved it either. However badly he was wronged in life, in death he is just another angry spirit who has to be stopped by any means.

I still don't understand what triggered this ghost sickness in the first place, after the spirit had been 20 years dormant.

Bluebird hotel

"Ba-boom! Ba-boom! BA-BOOM!" Lilith screams, faster and faster as Dean's heart pounds furiously.

Lumber mill

Bobby and the Impala drag Luther's spirit along the road.

Bluebird hotel

"Ba-boom! BA-BOOM! BA-BOOM!" Lilith continues to scream, leaning menacingly over Dean's prostrate form as he gasps and chokes and shudders, seconds from death…

…but then she vanishes, and so does the pain. Dean's eyes snap open, wide and terrified still.

Lumber mill

Luther's spirit evaporates into a cloud of grey smoke, which slowly fades away. His head is the last to go, and wow, that's a nifty special effect!

The lumber mill shuts down once more.

Bobby brakes, and draws a deep breath of relief.

Bluebird hotel

Dean lets out a long, shuddering gasp, able to breathe once more, and slowly takes stock. The abrasions on his arms have vanished, and so has the debilitating fear – and not a second too soon.

Later

Lumber mill – or a similar remote location

Having apparently been collected from the hotel, Dean retrieves a couple of beers from a cool box in the Impala's back seat, incredulous at the notion of road-hauling a ghost. He hands one of the beers to Sam, but Bobby refuses the other, maybe because he knows he has a long drive ahead of him, or maybe because he is trying to cut back after over-indulging while Dean was dead. Maybe it's just a little early for him. Who knows? Dean drinks it himself, instead.

Must have been a warm day when they filmed this, as Dean and Sam are both minus most of the layers they usually pile on – Dean in a long-sleeved t-shirt only, while Sam has on just a simple denim shirt over his, and my, but it makes for a lovely view!

Sam clarifies that they used an iron chain for the road hauling, along with Bobby's spell work. Ah, so the spell work was why the iron trapped the spirit instead of dispersing it, then. Bobby just smiles his pleasure both at the praise and their success. It really wouldn't do to let Dean die again, certainly not so soon.

Dean shrugs that it's a new one on him and Sam explains that it was what Luther was most afraid of. "It was pretty brutal, though," he admits.

"On the upside: I'm still alive," Dean points out. "So, uh – go team!"

Sam promptly asks how he's feeling, by the way, and Dean shrugs that he is fine. Bobby asks if he's sure. "Cause this line of work can get awful scary," he deadpans.

Dean bristles defensively. "I'm fine! You want to go hunt? I'll hunt. I'll kill anything!"

Sam and Bobby exchange amused glances. "Aww," Sam teases.

"He's adorable," Bobby mocks. Mwahahah. The pair of them laugh their heads off, and Dean can only roll his eyes and take refuge in his beer. Then Bobby says his farewells, instructs the boys to drive safe, and heads off. Short but sweet – we must make the most of what we can get with Bobby now that Jim Beaver has another project to keep him busy.

My, but that's a pretty shot of the brothers leaning against the Impala watching Bobby drive off.

Once they are alone, Sam asks Dean what he saw, right at the end there. "What, besides the cop beating my ass?" Dean evades. Sam presses for a serious answer, and again I wonder how much of Dean's hallucination in the hotel room was comprehensible to him.

Dean hesitates and wonders what to say…and glances at Sam and sees a flash of yellow in his eyes. Is it real? Jake's eyes also flashed yellow after he started using his powers, after all. Or is it just Dean's imagination playing tricks on him in the wake of his ordeal? Probably the latter, but we can't be completely sure – and neither can Dean.

Either way, Dean is deeply disturbed, and can't bring himself to give an honest answer to Sam's question and drag all those issues out into the open. The hallucinations and the fears they relate to are too intensely personal and too intricately interwoven to comfortably or easily put into words. Not when his fears for Sam connect so deeply with that very fresh altercation the brothers are trying to put behind them, and not when admitting his fear of hellhounds and hell and death would also mean admitting – to himself as much as to Sam – that his memories of hell may be starting to awaken. Not when it was for Sam's sake that he went to hell in the first place. He's not ready for that conversation, certainly not while still so shaken by those hallucinations…and the brothers' relationship is maybe not ready for that conversation.

Or maybe this would be the perfect time for that conversation, and is lost?

"Howler monkeys," Dean lies. "Whole room full of them. Those things creep the hell out of me." Sam snorts – he saw Dean screaming in terror at the sight of a cat, after all. "Nah, just the usual stuff, Sammy," Dean concludes, rather more honestly but vaguely. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Close on Dean, troubled.

…

…

And then, woo hoo, then comes the super special surprise, a very wonderful gift from our beloved Show: Jensen Ackles, as Dean, giving the Impala a lap dance while lip synching along to Eye of the Tiger. And lo! it is the most adorkable, dorktastic sequence ever, and I think I may never stop watching it and giggling along.

I especially love that he does an actual chord change while playing air guitar on his leg. But my favourite, favourite moment is when he finishes and breaks character and flashes that beautiful smile as he laughs at himself. ♥


Fabulous, fabulous. Thank you, Show! ♥





October 2008

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