Supernatural 4.12 Criss Angel Is A Douchebag

"What if we could win?"

I really love this episode, bleak and depressing though it is. It makes me sad and it makes me afraid, but it is also emotionally satisfying and compelling, with some powerful scenes offering valuable character insight and intriguing mytharc development.

Then

"Tell me about all those months without your brother, about all the things you and this demon bitch do in the dark," a random demon taunted Sam, over a flashback of at least one of the things he and Ruby got up to in the dark. Angry, Sam used his psychic mojo to exorcise the demon.

"Do you even know how far off the reservation you've gone?" Dean angrily confronted Sam when he found out. "How far from normal – from human?"

Dean asked why Sam trusts Ruby so much, and Sam explained that Ruby saved his life.

Sam's powers completely failed to work on the powerful demon Alistair, and Ruby accused him of letting his abilities get flabby. Sam asked how he should tone up, and Ruby reminded him that he already knew what he had to do, but Sam insisted that he wasn't going to do that anymore, whatever that might be.

Now

Sioux City, Iowa

Sioux City is celebrating Magic Week, courtesy of the International Association of Magicians, a helpful banner informs us. Alongside the banner, one of said magicians performs parlour tricks in the street to an admiring audience, and already I feel as if I am watching an episode of Jonathan Creek. Which I love, so it's all good.



In a bar, an elderly magician by the name of Jay attempts to demonstrate a card trick to a cheerful young barmaid, despite voluble heckling from a very drunk fellow magician named Patrick Vance, whose bored assistant is completely unable to rein him in. Jay's rather shaky hands don't help, either, but the barmaid clearly likes and feels sorry for him, so encourages him to keep entertaining her. However, Vance manages to completely spoil the trick, despite all attempts to ignore him. "Why are you so mean?" the barmaid cries. "Can't you just leave the old guy alone?"

She means well, but such patronisation succeeds only in making Jay feel ten times worse.

I like Jay. He has fabulously coiffed big hair that holds my attention in every one of his scenes. Plus, he is a sympathetic character well portrayed by a strong guest actor. Can't ask for more than that.

Theatre

Jay and his two good friends, fellow aging magicians Charlie and Vernon, watch another young poseur, Jeb Dexter, rehearse his very showy act. Charlie and Vernon cheerfully disparage the routine, making fun of Dexter's eyeliner and jewellery. "What a douchebag," they chorus with deep scorn as diva Dexter harangues his crew over some problem with the lights.

Take a good look at the prominent birthmark over Charlie's right eye. It will be important later.

Jay tells his friends to knock it off. Charlie and Vernon grumble some more about how this business used to be about skill. The despondent Jay points out that used to be is the operative phrase, there, and grumbles that they are pathetic. "Bitter old men talking about the glory days. You know what? This douchebag isn't the joke. We are."



Charlie immediately asks who he is calling a joke and Jay sadly admits that he is talking about himself, mostly. He looks up at Dexter on stage and reminds the others that it used to be them up there. "Maybe he is a douchebag, but he's playing the main stage and we can't even afford an assistant. What the hell are we doing?"

Count how many times the word douchebag is used in this scene alone. Then count how many times the word is used in the episode. Then take a drink for each one. You'll be under the table.

Charlie tries to reassure his friend that they are doing all right, but Jay is having none of it, argues instead that they are sad, old and dying. "I'm going to do the Table of Death tonight," he decides. Alarmed, the other two immediately try to talk him out of it, arguing that he almost killed himself last time he tried it and that was 30 years ago. Jay's mind is made up, however. "Who cares if it kills me?" he despondently bemoans. "At least I'll go out with a headline."

Now, it might not be the most positive attitude to present, this belief of Jay's that his life is no longer worth anything if he can no longer do all the things he used to, but it is a pretty common cause of depression – many people who have invested heavily in their career struggle to adjust and find a new focus for their life as they grow older and retire. That Jay feels this way merely sets the scene for what is to come.

Night

On stage, Jay announces the Table of Death scene as neither trick nor illusion but rather a display of daring and dexterity. After this build-up, he lies down on the table and Charlie bolts the manacles restraining him, a member of the audience checking that the restraints are good and tight. Charlie worriedly asides to Jay that the restraints really are tight and is he sure he can slip them?

Curtains are drawn around the table. The lights are dimmed. Vernon crosses himself, fearing the worst, as he and Charlie shake their heads at one another. Charlie lights the fuse that will eventually burn through the rope that is all that prevents a clutch of fearsome looking blades from falling upon Jay. The blades are red, which is a nice touch. You know, to either resemble blood or not show it.

Meanwhile, a very drunk Vance wanders out of the Hotel Patricia, his long-suffering assistant reminding him that his show is in an hour.

On stage, Jay's silhouette can be seen struggling against his restraints behind the curtain. Charlie looks worried. The audience murmurs. Vernon cringes.

The rope snaps and the knives fall. Jay hasn't escaped his bonds in time. The audience gasps in horror…

Out in the street, Vance collapses like a puppet whose strings have been cut.

On stage, Charlie pulls back the curtain to reveal a stunned-looking Jay, free from his bonds and very much alive. The audience is amazed. So are Jay and Charlie.

Out in the street, Vance lies dead, blood pouring from stab wounds corresponding to the blades that should have killed Jay.

Boy, that was a long teaser!

Titles

Day

In the street, Jeb Dexter, personal television crew in tow, entertains a group of women with dramatised card tricks – although he claims not to do tricks, declaring rather that what he does is a demonstration about demons and angels, love and lust.

Dean and Sam wander up in time to hear this. Finally! Our boys are on-screen! They are both looking mighty fine in their suits. They are also very quick off the mark with this case – must have been somewhere in the general vicinity already to have heard about Vance's death, diagnosed it as supernatural in origin and got here so quickly.

"What a douchebag," mutters Dean, wrinkling his nose at Dexter in distaste. Sam, in contrast, has a pleased smile spreading across his face as he recognises Jeb Dexter. Dean blinks at him. "I don't even want to know how you know that."



Sam tries to shrug it off as no big deal. "He's famous. Kinda."

"For what? Douchebaggery?" Dean snarks, disapproving eyes raking over the magician with deep scepticism.

Warning his audience not to touch him, Dexter starts heavy breathing, and then feigns some kind of demonic possession, which looks rather as if he is having some kind of fit. "Go back to hell, demon!" he roars, flinging his cards away. One of them appears stuck inside the window of a nearby store and Dexter makes a big deal of his cleverness.

The watching audience is amazed. Dean is disgusted. "You've got to be kidding me, a fake demon possession? I can't believe people actually fall for that crap," he grumbles, offended, as he and Sam wander off down the street. Sam tries to argue that it isn't all crap, but Dean is having none of it. "What part of that was not a steaming pile of BS?"

Sam has to admit that yes, Dexter's little show was crap, but tries to argue that not all magicians are like that, that it takes skill.

"Oh, right." Dean brightens up, remembering something. "I forgot. You were actually into this stuff, weren't you? You had, like, a deck of cards and a wand."

"Dude, I was thirteen," Sam defends. "It was a phase."

Aww, wee Sammy with a magician's wand. It was both a very cute phase and very embarrassing to remember if the brothers' respective reactions are anything to go by. Dean is extremely subdued throughout this episode, following on from the extreme misery with which he ended the last, so that this tiny moment in which he perks up at the thought of a happy memory is all the more precious.

Dean gets back to his point. "It just bugs me," he says. "Actually it offends me. They're playing at demons and magic, when the real thing will kill you bloody."



He does look offended, too, and has done since he first heard what Dexter was saying about angels and demons. Deeply offended. Seeing it, Sam gets that look on his face that he always gets when he realises Dean is actually telling him something serious about how he views the world or how he feels about something – a little touched and a little worried and a little helpless.

"Like a guy who drops dead of ten stab wounds without a single tear in his shirt?" Sam gets back to business.



Yes, that's exactly what Dean is talking about. The brothers carry on their way.

Hotel. Vance's room

Vance's nameless assistant is packing up his things, while Dean and Sam interview her. Dean asked if her boss had any enemies that she knew of. She snorts that Vance had plenty of enemies because he made a career out of stealing ideas from other magicians. As she explains this, she winds up one of those never-ending multi-coloured ropes of knotted handkerchiefs that magicians so love to pull out of their sleeves, and Dean goggles a little at just how long the wretched thing goes on for. Dean asks if stealing ideas would be enough to get Vance killed and Assistant shrugs that these guys take that stuff pretty seriously. Then she coos over a fluffy white rabbit, which is adorable.

"Did you find anything weird in Vance's stuff?" Dean asks. "Well…weirder."

Tucking the rabbit into a bag, Assistant admits that as a matter of fact she did. She shows the boys a tarot card – the Ten of Swords, fittingly enough – and explains that Vance hated card tricks. "Never wanted them around, let alone in his precious cape," she snorts.

Hotel. Jay's room

Jay is messing around with his cards, practicing tricks for his own amusement, with not so much as a trace of the shaky hands we saw in the bar the other night.

Charlie comes to visit, and gets straight to the point asking how Jay did it. Looking confident and assured, Jay practically purrs that the great ones never give away the how. "Yesterday you were sad, old and dying," Charlie reminds him. "Today you're one of the great ones? Come on, this is me you're talking to."



The re-vitalised Jay teases that his friend didn't think he could do it, and Charlie admits that he didn't, argues that Jay is his best friend and he didn't want to see him get hurt.

Jay starts playing around with his cards again, pulling three aces from the middle of the deck. Charlie is impressed. Jay gloats that he has been working on this trick for years, trying to pull just one ace from the middle of the deck – now all of a sudden he can pull three. Charlie disparages that he is still missing the ace of hearts.

Jay announces that he wants to do the Executioner tonight. Charlie is appalled. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Jay shrugs that it is just a rope slip, but Charlie argues that even Houdini wouldn't try the Executioner. That is pretty much Jay's point: the thought of pulling off something even Houdini couldn't.

Charlie feels that Jay is pushing his luck, but Jay shakes his head and says it wasn't luck. He affectionately slaps his friend on the chest and steps back. "Let's not end up like this, Charlie," he implores. "A couple of old farts doing birthdays and Bar mitzvahs."

They both chuckle sadly. "It beats dying," Charlie insists.

Does it?" Jay isn't so sure.

"I would do anything for you, you know that," says Charlie. "But I will not watch you die."

That statement, right there? That is the reason for everything that happens in this episode. It is woven throughout Charlie's dialogue in this scene. And it resonates strongly with Dean and Sam's ongoing story. I would do anything for you, but I will not watch you die. How many of both Dean and Sam's decisions have been based on much that reasoning, for better or for worse?

Charlie insists that he is not going to be at the show, but Jay confidently states that he will be there. "You're always there for me. Check your pocket."

Charlie checks his pocket, and finds in it the ace of hearts. He laughs his delight and Jay smiles. "I can do it, Charlie. I want to do it. Please."

Charlie gives in and nods his assent, and Jay is thrilled to have his support.



Theatre

Dexter is on the phone, whining about how he is stuck in Sioux Falls, "and freaking Angel's in Vegas doing Cirque du Soleil! That should have been mine!"

There's the name-check for the episode title, I guess. Criss Angel is at least referenced in passing. Remember the days when this show had one-word episode titles? Asylum, Faith, Skin, Bugs… I wonder what some of those season one episodes might be called if they were written today! This one is my least favourite title of any episode. It is unsubtle and needlessly insults a real person, for no apparent reason whatsoever beyond a crude attempt to be funny.

Charlie and Vernon sit watching Dexter's little display of petulance. As Dexter gets settled for a television interview with Jay, Dean wanders over and joins the other two, introducing himself as Agent Ulrich, looking into the death of Patrick Vance.

Vernon glances nonchalantly at Dean's badge, and he doesn't bat so much as an eyelid, but it behoves us to remember the words of Bobby Singer, a long time ago: 'don't try to con a con man.'



Dexter's interview begins, mostly an opportunity for him to talk himself up and patronise Jay, whose name he gets wrong.

"What a douchebag," Vernon asides to Charlie.

Dean is delighted to hear an opinion matching his own. "Couldn't agree more," he confides, hoping the fellow feeling will buy their trust and cooperation. He shows Vernon the tarot card found among Vance's effects, explaining that he'd heard Vernon used tarot cards in his act. Vernon scoffs that his act was a long time ago and he hasn't touched his cards in years. Shaky hands. Dean tries asking if Vernon knows of anyone who might use them now.



Vernon and Charlie promptly start to spin a story about a guy down on Bleaker Street who 'peddles that kind of specialty stuff', adding that Vance crossed him about a year ago and cost him fifty grand in royalties. Dean does not question this story for a moment, just asks for the exact address. The men too-helpfully tell him to go to 426 Bleaker and ask for Chief. The name Dean does query, but gets only innocent smiles in return. He thanks them and takes off.

Bleaker Street

Bleaker Street turns out to be a decidedly seedy part of town, little more than a dark, dirty alley. Also, I'm pretty sure it's a location the show has used before.

Dean locates 426 and bangs on the iron grill over the door. A non-speaking extra appears. He and Dean eye one another dubiously for a moment, and Dean explains that he's here to see Chief. The guy lifts his eyebrows, shrugs, and lets Dean in.

Inside

Dean is led down into a large, dimly lit basement and told to wait and not touch anything. His guide disappears. Then Chief makes his entrance, in ceremonial fashion: he flings the door open loudly amid a burst of light, smoke and music from another room and strides toward Dean, leather-clad, slapping a cat o' nine tails against his palm.

Dean's face is a picture of nonplussed bemusement, but since he considers all the magicians currently in town to be freaks he at first assumes this is just another variety along the same approximate theme. Even so, he is very uncomfortable, and doesn't rise to the occasion with a snarky quip the way the Dean of old would have done – another clear and present sign of how far off his normal game he is.



Chief eyes Dean appraisingly and smiles lasciviously. "You are really gonna get it tonight, big boy," he drawls.

Dean blinks as comprehension dawns and shakes his head a little at his own stupidity. "There's been a misunderstanding," he offers, deeply embarrassed at so much as being in the room and still very uncomfortable. "I think I've been had."



"Oh, you ain't been had till you've been had by the Chief," Chief smirks, and then adds, "Oh, and before we get started – what's your safe word?"

Dean's little gaggy face in reaction is priceless. But, you know…the scene is played for laughs, mostly. It is designed to be funny, and is amusing…but then we remember that Dean was tortured in hell. He is now tortured by the memory of torturing others in hell. Seeing that cat o' nine tails and taking in the S&M connotations of the place he's been sent to? Probably not bringing back the best of memories. No wonder he can't muster up any snark.

Motel

Sam sits at the laptop, researching. There is a knock at the door. Since Dean has his own key, and it isn't as if anyone else in town is likely to be visiting, Sam is puzzled. He very slowly wanders over and takes a cautious look through the peephole, then sighs and opens the door. It's Ruby, arms folded across her chest and scowling, positively radiating belligerent attitude.



"What are you doing here, Ruby?" Sam fires by way of opening salvo, not looking the slightest bit pleased to see her, complication as she has always been in his already complicated life.

"I should be asking you the same thing," Ruby snips back and Sam rolls his eyes as she strides past him into the room. He defends that he is working a job, and it is Ruby's turn to roll her eyes. "The whole world's about to be engulfed in hellfire, and you're in 'Magic Town', USA," she mocks. On the one hand she does have something of a point, but on the other hand small jobs don't go away just because larger matters are afoot. Someone has to look after the little people, and our boys are far better equipped for battles on this scale than they are to try and avert the Apocalypse, given their current condition.

Sam snorts and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "You've got something against magic?" he pointedly snips.



"That would almost be funny, if thirty-four Seals hadn't been broken already," Ruby flings at him. "Thirty-four, Sam. That's over halfway."

Thirty-four? Over halfway? Yikes! There's this entire war going on off-screen this season, on a far greater scale than last year. It's only been about three/four months at the most since it started and Lilith is already more than halfway to her objective – halfway through the season, appropriately enough. Scary stuff, even if it is all telling rather than showing. The Winchester brothers have only been directly involved in two out of those thirty-four battles, which…kind of makes you wonder yet again just why Dean's rescue from hell was ordered and just when that condition is going to kick in.

Sam says nothing, doesn't even look at Ruby, just stands there with his hands stuffed in his pockets looking sullen. Sam doesn't know what to do for the best, is struggling more and more to understand where the line is drawn between right and wrong in these murky times; that has been the theme of his development arc for much of the season now, and he is fast approaching breaking point.



"The angels are losing this war," Ruby presses. "Every day is one day closer, and if someone doesn't do something soon –"

Sam explodes, which is always quite a sight to behold. "And that someone is me?"



"Who else would it be?" Ruby insists.

"I don't know where these Seals are!" Sam shouts at her. "I don't know squat! So why don't you tell me where you'd like me to start."

"Well, you can quit dicking around here, for one thing," Ruby flings back at him. "Bigger fish, Sam. And if the Seals are being broken, you might want to go after the one doing the breaking."

We're back to Lilith again, Sam realises.

"Cut the head off the snake," Ruby confirms. "You're the only one who can stop her, Sam," she insists, stepping closer, right into his personal space. "So step up and kill the little bitch."



It is very interesting to consider Ruby's attitude in this scene. After spending so much of the season playing at Little Miss Meek And Mild, she is suddenly swinging back to the more aggressive attitude she sported throughout season three, goading instead of coaxing, trying to drive Sam rather than lead him. This switch emphasises the fact that her change in attitude this season has been a deliberate choice on the part of the character, rather than a failing on the part of the new actress, although it can't be denied that Katie Cassidy pulled off Ruby's antagonistic belligerence rather more convincingly than Genevieve Cortese does.

Just why Ruby is changing tack again now is worth pondering. She has worked very hard, after all, to build up Sam's trust in her by playing the part of the good and helpful little demon: offering unconditional support, keeping him alive while Dean was dead, backing off and giving him space when Dean returned, bringing him useful leads and demanding nothing in return – even allowing herself to be tortured by Alistair to help save a fallen angel. She has been note-perfect every step of the way, very gently nudging Sam toward and along the path she wants him to take…

And therein lies the rub, because this character has been in the show for a season and a half now and we still don't know anything about her true motives and intentions. We can speculate, but we can't know. This season she has been focused on Lilith, but we have no way of knowing if Lilith has always been her prime target or is merely incidental, an obstacle to whatever else Ruby wants to achieve and a useful hook to engage Sam's co-operation.

What is certain is that Ruby is growing impatient now with Sam's reluctance to carry on working with her to hone his abilities as they did while Dean was dead. Now that some time has passed and Dean not only knows something of what she and Sam got up to together but she has fought alongside both brothers against the angels in Heaven and Hell, she feels confident enough of her place in Sam's life and regard to start exerting pressure on him once more.

It is also worth bearing in mind that there have been numerous occasions now on which Ruby has insisted to Sam that the solution she is proposing is the only possible way out of a particular predicament, and she has been proved wrong on most if not all of them. So when she insists that Sam is the only one who can kill Lilith, it does not automatically follow that this claim is correct – Lilith is scared of the demon-killing knife, after all, which suggests that there is more than one possibility for destroying her, even if they aren't all good possibilities, since the knife would, after all, also kill Lilith's host body. The point is that Ruby wants Sam to believe that he is the only one who can kill her, needs him to believe it the better to encourage him to do her bidding.

"Oh, I am game, believe me," Sam snaps. His is a vengeful temper, and he has wanted Lilith's head on a plate, bloody, for a long time now. Learning a few details of what happened to Dean in hell can only have added to that desire, however much he has allowed it to slip onto the backburner. Experience has taught him to bide his time, and he has been very much focused on supporting Dean in recent weeks. "It's not the psychic thing I've got a problem with –" he begins.



Really? That's very interesting. The psychic thing has always appeared to be the crux of Sam's problem – it has certainly been at the forefront of his existential dilemmas in the past. But it was already hinted in Heaven and Hell that Ruby wanted Sam to do something other than hone his psychic powers by exorcising as many demons as possible, and this scene now confirms it. Sam admitted that experimenting with his psychic powers was like playing with fire, and if he is comfortable with that in comparison to whatever it is Ruby wants him to do…well, just how bad might it be? She has, after all, attempted to guide him down some extremely dark roads in the past. Jus in Bello, in particular, springs rather worryingly to mind.

One of the themes of this episode is the seductive, addictive quality of black magic. Ruby was a witch before going to hell and becoming a demon, and we know that she practices witchcraft even now. Could this secret activity she wants Sam to engage in have something to do with witchcraft? Has she been encouraging him to dabble in black magic as well as developing his psychic abilities? Or is there something else entirely going on? We have no way of knowing, but it is fascinating to consider the possibilities.

We should also bear in mind that whatever it is they are talking about, it is clearly something that has been on the cards for quite some time, since long before Dean returned, and yet it was not among the summer activities that Sam confessed to his brother. After everything, he is still holding back. He told Dean he was coming clean, but clearly it was not as full a confession as he claimed. Dean is unlikely to take the deception well when he finds out.

"Yeah, I know what you've got a problem with." Ruby rolls her eyes. "But tough! It's the only way."

This whole conversation is deliciously ambiguous and very, very intriguing.

Sam stares the demon in the eyes for a long, long moment. "No," he insists at length. Whatever it is Ruby wants him to do, however hard she has worked at securing his trust and however conflicted he feels, he is not – yet – prepared to go along with her proposal. He is a very long way now from the headspace he was in before Dean's return, when it was just he and Ruby, working together toward a (supposedly) common goal. Ruby is no longer the only influence being brought to bear on him, and his priorities have shifted considerably – all of which must be intensely frustrating for Ruby, having invested so much in him.



Ruby holds Sam's eyes. "You know, this would all be so much easier if you'd just admit to yourself that you like it," she presses. "That feeling that it gives you."

Sam looks uncomfortable, but holds firm. "You don't know what you're talking about," he insists, but it is clear that she does. He admitted himself, back in Lazarus Rising, that he likes the feeling it gives him to be able to use his powers to save people. However, he has always been afraid of what succumbing to those demon-given powers might do to him, and Dean's heartfelt disapproval and the angelic warnings he has received have reminded him of that, are outweighing the temptation at present. It is a very delicate balance, though, and Sam's inner conflict in the face of the pressure Ruby is bringing to bear is clear.

"Oh, I don't, huh?" Ruby snips, and opts for full-on passive-aggressive emotional blackmail by way of emphasising her point. "Fine. It's simple. Lucifer rises, the Apocalypse starts. You think you have demons on your hands now? People are going to die, Sam. Oceans of people. So you just let me know when you're ready."



I have to say that for all that I don't find Genevieve Cortese as convincing as she could be when she plays Ruby as aggressive, I do much prefer this dynamic between her and Sam: butting heads, both so angry and defiant.

Ruby walks out, leaving Sam to stew. In the middle of an apocalyptic-scale mess like this, when angels threaten to wipe out entire towns and a demon claims to want to help him save the world, how does he decide what is right and what is wrong?

Hotel – auditorium

Sam stands by the bar staring off into space, troubled. The brooding looks good on him.



Dean wanders up behind his brother, having extricated himself from Chief's stronghold, and asks if Sam found anything interesting by way of announcing his presence. Sam is startled, having been too busy brooding to even notice Dean was there. He says no, he didn't find anything, and asks in turn if Dean found anything.

"Nothing I want to talk about," Dean says with a shudder. "Or think about, ever again."

Nearby, Vernon and Charlie worriedly watch the stage, where Jay is about to perform. Vernon frets that Jay is crazy. Charlie sighs that their friend is sure he can do it. Vernon snaps that Charlie should have talked him out of it. Charlie angrily defends that he tried till he was blue in the face, which isn't quite how I remember the conversation.

Dean approaches, Sam in tow by way of reinforcements. "The Chief, huh," he snips.

"What's the matter?" Charlie teases. "The Chief not your type?"

Dean is not amused. "You know, I could have you both arrested for obstruction of justice," he claims, hoping to intimidate them into co-operation.

Vernon is unimpressed. "How? You're no Fed," he mildly points out, and Charlie adds that they con people for a living and it takes more than a fake badge to fool them.

Dean and Sam are both greatly discomfited at being seen through so easily, and have to backtrack fast, admitting that the aging magicians have got them bang to rights and babbling that they are actually…aspiring magicians themselves and came to the convention hoping to pick up tricks for their new show. Unsurprisingly, Charlie and Vernon do not believe a word, but mockingly play along, asking what kind of show.



The brothers flounder. "It's a brother act," Sam offers. Okay, that's cute.

"Yeah!" Dean tries to run with this theme, but quickly realises he has nowhere to take it. "With the rings and…the doves, and…rings…" Out of inspiration. The start of Jay's show saves him from having to carry on digging himself into this hole and he about falls over with relief as Charlie and Vernon's attention is drawn away.

"You want to learn something?" Charlie sombrely offers. "Stick around."

Jay introduces the Executioner as a feat of daring even Houdini dared not attempt it, and a hangman's noose is revealed.

Meanwhile upstairs, accompanied by his beloved heavy metal music, Jeb Dexter is preening in front of the mirror in his room, tweaking his precious hair and practicing his best broody pout.

On stage, Jay is securely fastened into a straitjacket, verified by a member of the public, and explains that he will have exactly one minute to escape his bonds before being hanged.

Charlie pulls the curtains. The lights are dimmed. The timer begins. Behind the curtain, Jay's silhouette can be seen struggling.

Up in his room, Dexter is so entranced by his own reflection in the mirror that he fails to notice that a noose from among his own props is floating through the air, wrapping itself around the ceiling fan.

On stage, Jay is running out of time fast, and the audience grows concerned, Dean and Sam included. "I don't think he's going to make it," Dean worriedly observes as the seconds tick down.



The timer runs down, the trapdoor beneath Jay's feet opens, and he drops. The audience gasp their horror.

Upstairs, Dexter is completely taken by surprise as his own noose drops around his neck and hauls him off his feet.

On stage, Charlie pulls back the curtain to reveal that Jay is alive and well and freed from his bonds, as if by magic. Caught up in the moment, Dean is absolutely delighted, crowing like a little kid, which is adorable to see. Dean hasn't has much to smile about lately, and his weary despondency has been palpable throughout this episode. This is one of the very few moments when he seems genuinely delighted, rather than feigning a strained version of his normal humour. Sam, on the other hand, smells a rat immediately. "That was…not humanly possible," he frowns.



Upstairs, Dexter's corpse dangles, limp and still, revolving gently along with the fan he is hanging from.

Motel

In their room, Dean and Sam busy themselves with research into Jay's background. Sitting at the laptop, Sam announces that it looks like Jay was a pretty big deal in the 70s. "Which in Magician Land means what, exactly?" Dean wonders, poring over a number of open books on the bed, cross-referencing from one to another.



"Big enough to play at Radio City Music Hall," Sam translates. Still engrossed in his reading, apparently determined to show off his ability to multi-task, Dean wonders what got Jay stuck in the 'where are they now?' file. Sam shrugs. "He got old," is all he can offer by way of explanation.

Glancing up, Dean posits that maybe The Incredible Jay is using real magic to stage a comeback, which is as good a theory as any, at this stage, Sam agrees: some kind of spell that works a death transference, perhaps. Dean wonders how the tarot card is mixed into it, but Sam is drawing a blank there.



Dean sighs and shakes his head. "Man, I hope I die before I get old," he remarks, ignoring the fact that, you know, he already did die before he got old, and it didn't exactly work out well for him. "The thing seems brutal, don't it?"

Now, you wouldn't expect that Dean would be in any hurry to die again, given what happened last time and that it seems clear he expects to go straight back to hell if it happens again. But this off-the-cuff remark clearly comes from much the same place as the thoughts he expresses during the conversation that follows: gloomy, fatalistic pessimism; die old or die young, it all works out the same in the end.

Sam is not what you'd call over the moon to hear his brother talking along these lines and looks pensive, mulling over Dean's words while Dean himself has another look at the tarot card. "You think we will?" Sam quietly asks, and it's been a long time since he sounded so much like the baby brother asking for reassurance.

"What?" Dean asks, not following because his train of thought was taking him in a different direction – his remark was just a throwaway observation and his attention is still focused on the puzzle of this case.

"Die before we get old," Sam elaborates, troubled by the thought of it.



"Haven't we both already?" Dean mildly points out. No fuss, no drama, just a simple, honest statement of fact.

It's been a really long time since the fact of Sam's death has been raised so openly. It was never really dealt with at the time, even, Sam's reaction to his own death completely swept aside by his panic at the thought of what Dean's deal meant.

"You know what I mean, Dean," Sam huffs. "Do you think we'll still be chasing demons when we're sixty?"

No distractions or evasions allowed – Sam is asking for a straight answer, whether he is prepared for it or not. So Dean gives him one, because Dean is a considerably more open about these things right now than he has ever been. "No," he gently says, still no fuss and no drama, just a simple, honest statement of belief. "I think we'll be dead. For good." Sam snorts a humourless little laugh of derisive disbelief at such pessimism, so Dean presses his point home. "What? You want to end up like Travis? Huh? Or Gordon, maybe?"



"There's Bobby," Sam points out, awash in a sea of despair and desperately scrabbling for even the tiniest glimmer of hope to cling onto.



"Oh yeah," Dean snarks, turning away. "There's a poster child for growing old gracefully."

Damn, that hurts, knowing that Dean loves Bobby like a father and yet finds absolutely no comfort in the thought of following in his footsteps. Bobby is well known and well respected among the scattered network of hunters and has been a rock of support for Dean and Sam in recent years, but he has also grown old alone and has been hunting for decades now, with no prospect of a peaceful retirement anywhere in sight as the general situation grows steadily worse and worse. Given how much this life has already cost Dean, the thought of still doing this if and when he gets to Bobby's age, another twenty or thirty years, must be unbearably exhausting…and yet it is all he knows, all he can foresee for himself, ever, and how, in fact, he defines himself.

After coming to the forefront in the last two episodes, Dean's post-hell issues have taken a back seat again in this episode – hardly surprising, since nothing has changed. There is nothing either he or Sam can do to change what happened to him or how he feels about it, so what we've been seeing here is more of what they admitted they were doing last week: just working whatever random jobs they can find and trying to pretend that nothing is wrong. But even though there is no direct reference to Dean's post-hell trauma, his weariness and utter hopelessness is woven throughout his scenes, in very subtle and effective continuity from where we left him at the end of Family Remains. This scene in particular reveals just how bleak Dean's outlook on life has become, and it is devastating to compare this weary fatalism with the Dean we first met back in season one, who believed so strongly that if he just worked hard enough everything would somehow work out okay in the end.

I think that's what I miss most about season one Dean. Back then he still had hope. He didn't hope for much, because Dean has never had what you'd call grand aspirations – mostly he just wanted what was left of his family to be safe and preferably together – but still it was hope. It's been a long time now since he had any hope at all. All he can see in the future is blood and death. He fights and he fights but all the while he believes, with all his heart, that all he is doing is staving off the inevitable. He doesn't believe they can prevent the Apocalypse, which will bring hell on earth. He believes both he and his brother will die young, again, rendering futile everything they have already been through. He believes that when that happens he will go right back to hell, which has already broken him once. Even the slim possibility of surviving to grow old he sees as more of a curse than a blessing, offering only the prospect of continued hardship and loneliness before eventual, inevitable bloody death. Die young or die old, it doesn't make any difference in the end, because evil is unending and all roads lead to blood and death. Man, that's depressing.

Sam looks devastated to hear his brother so horribly resigned to the thought of this bleak future, as if he's already given up. Sam has always relied on Dean to keep him going when his spirits are low and Dean has always told him what he needed to hear, always thrown him that lifeline of optimism. It didn't matter if Dean believed what he was saying or not, he still said the words because Sam needed to hear them, and Sam was always able to draw strength from it. But Dean just doesn't have it in him to give that any more, and Sam is crushed. He struggles to find some hope to cling to. "Maybe we'll be different, Dean."



"What kind of Cool-Aid you drinking, man?" Dean rebuffs. "Sammy, it ends bloody. Or sad. That's just the life."

This is the first time the brothers have talked about their hopes and expectations for the future since Shadow, way back in season one. Back then, Sam still harboured dreams of going back to school and having a safe, normal life, while Dean wanted nothing more than to have his family around him, and drew satisfaction from the prospect of spending his life as a hunter, helping others. Remembering that conversation and comparing it to their desperate, desolate situation now…it's heartbreaking.

And yet this conversation also reveals that their basic outlook remains the same, however much their respective dreams have been shattered – Sam still regards hunting as a job that can be finished and then walked away from, while Dean still regards it as a vocation, something that can never be walked away from because hunters will always be needed and he can never close his eyes to that need.

Sam closes his laptop and fidgets, blinking away to stare out of the window as he tries to re-compose himself. "What if we could win?" he tentatively offers, at length.

Whatever it is Ruby wants him to do, she has presented it to Sam quite definitively as a way in which he could single-handedly end this war, but on the flip side it is clearly something he does not feel comfortable about and isn't sure he should do. So the question he is now asking himself is: what price victory? Would the end result be worth the means and is it a sacrifice he is willing to make?

And how clear-headed and objective is it possible for Sam to be about that decision?

"Win?" Dean says it like Sam just suggested they take a vacation on the moon.

"If there was a way we could just…" Sam searches for the right words, eyes bright with tears he is determined not to shed. "Put an end to all of it."

Dean lets his eyes drop, troubled by the direction this conversation has taken. "Is there something going on you're not telling me?"



"No," Sam immediately denies. He has already lied by omission, by not telling Dean about Ruby's little visit, but now the lie is more direct.

Sam doesn't want Dean to know that Ruby was here, putting ideas in his head, but he is trying, oh so tentatively, to broach the subject of whatever it is Ruby wants from him, because he doesn't know what to do. He needs his brother's counsel and guidance but also fears it. He knows, of course he knows, that Dean will not agree to whatever Ruby has suggested, will react badly to the mere suggestion, and yet seems to also be hoping, somewhere deep inside, that if he can just find the right words to explain, that Dean will at the very least not reject the idea out of hand but instead listen and advise, somehow make his decision easier. Make the decision for him, even, taking that poisoned chalice right out of his hands, one way or another…but at the same time he knows that he can't pass the buck, knows that this one has to be his own load to bear, for better or for worse, and that he can't shift it onto his brother's already overburdened shoulders, not after everything.

And maybe, just maybe, Sam doesn't want to hear Dean arguing against this, whatever it is, because he already knows that he wants to do it, wants to be talked into rather than out of it, but already knows that Dean won't.

Damn, but Sam is conflicted right now.



"Sammy?" Dean presses. And he's right to be suspicious, but still it is a sign that trust between the brothers remains fragile, even now. This season has been very hard on them both, the divide created by Dean's death still a long way from being fully healed.

Also? That was two gratuitous Sammys in one scene. Dean is in a really wistful mood.

"No," Sam insists again, standing up and flailing. "I'm just saying that…." He can't do it, he realises, running smack into the fundamental difference in outlook between himself and Dean almost before he's even begun. Can't raise the subject, whatever it is, can't risk that confrontation right now – can't do it either to himself or his brother. So he backtracks. "I just wish there was a way we could…go for the source. That's all. Cut the head off the snake."

Dean considers this, but immediately points out a flaw in the plan. "The problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the Volkswagen."



And there it is right there: that fundamental difference in outlook between the brothers. Sam is a task-to-finish man: he sees a problem and looks for a resolution, neat and tidy, always believes that there is a solution to be found, somewhere, even in a situation like this, and that certain end results can justify any means. What this episode reveals is that even now, after everything, Sam still sees hunting as a job that can end. He has been increasingly committed to it over the passing seasons, and it has been a long time since it was even hinted that he still harboured hopes of leading any other life, but when we think about it, all he has really done is move from one task to another. First it was finding John and the Yellow-Eyed Demon, and then it was avoiding Azazel's plans for him, then saving Dean, avenging Dean, now averting the Apocalypse…the tasks are becoming longer and harder, but still there is always a definitive goal to aim for. Achieve this and maybe it can all be over.

In spite of everything, Sam still dares to hope for an after. He walked away once before. He knows that it is possible, however hard it might be to achieve.

Dean, on the other hand, believes that there is no permanent solution, only the ongoing, never-ending fight, and that not all battles are worth the price that must be paid for victory. For Dean, hunting is not a job, it is a vocation, and there can never any end to it, because evil is infinite and people will always need to be saved. The problem with the snake is that it has a thousand heads, he says. Evil bitches just keep piling out of the Volkswagen. It's the same basic ideology he expressed in Shadow, way back in season one: it's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt.

Back then it was a source of satisfaction to Dean that he would always be able to use what he knew to help others and thus give meaning to his screwed up life; these days it is a prospect that exhausts him. What hasn't changed is his sense of obligation. For as long as there are people who need to be saved, Dean will not be able to walk away from them, and because all he has ever known is evil he knows with absolute certainty that there will always be people who need to be saved. This is a job that will never end, and Dean cannot conceive of anything else for himself. Hunting defines who and what he is, maybe now more than ever, after what he experienced in hell.

And even now, maybe especially now, after everything he has been through, the worst thing Dean can contemplate is being alone, which is why, given the choice between ending bloody or sad, he chooses bloody. I hope I die before I get old. This is Dean's tragedy: that he has so completely lost the ability to hope for anything better, ever.

Sam stands with his arms folded tight across his chest, tense and grief-stricken all over again and thinking better of having raised the subject at all. Dean is never going to tell him what he wants to hear, not least because he doesn't know himself what he wants to hear – he wants to be talked into it, but then again he doesn't, and he wants to be talked out of it, but then again he doesn't. Trying to explain his dilemma would open up all kinds of cans of worms that he just isn't prepared to face, for either his own sake or Dean's, because even this much conversation dancing around the subject has been devastating. He drops the subject as swiftly as he raised it. "Yeah. Guess you're right."



Dean gets back to business, quietly suggesting that Sam see if he can track down Jay while Dean sees what he can dig up on the tarot card.

Hotel

Jeb Dexter's body is wheeled out to a waiting wagon just as Sam enters. He makes his way over to Dean, who is standing in the lobby looking pensive.



Dean explains that the maid found Dexter hanging from the ceiling fan and police think it was suicide, but Dean begs to differ. "Pulled a little slight of hand myself," he smugly explains, holding up another tarot card, this one the hanged man. "So I'm thinking if the spell is a death transference thing, these cards work like black magic targets."

Sam wonders if there is any connection between the victims. Dean's figured that one out, too, explaining that Dexter was 'a total douchebag' to Jay yesterday in Dean's presence, while asking around has revealed that Vance was heckling Jay at the bar the day he was killed.

Sam runs through what we already know, presenting Jay as the killer and guessing that he planted cards on both victims so that they would die as a result of the Table of Death and Executioner instead of him. "Hell of a trick," he summarises.

Dean agrees, deciding that it's time they had a little chat with Jay. "Any luck tailing him?"



Sam squirms. "He…slipped me."

Dean looks at him. "He's a sixty-year-old."

"He's a magician," Sam defends. Heh.

Upstairs

Jay wanders down a corridor to his room and unlocks the door.

Behind his back, Dean and Sam poke their heads around a corner and watch as he goes into his room. Guns in hand, they stealthily approach the door, glance at each other, and reach a nonverbal consensus.



Dean kicks the door open – which you'd think would alert the neighbours to the fact that something is wrong – and the brothers charge in, guns pointed at the very shocked Jay. Playing bad cop and bad cop, they make their accusations, telling Jay they know all about the bad mojo he's been using to jump-start his act. Jay is confused.

"Look, we know you put a spell on those tarot cards," Sam accuses.

"Messing with real magic," Dean angrily snaps. The brothers always do hate it when the perpetrator is human, as it muddies the moral and ethical waters so.

"Real magic?" Jay blinks, more confused than ever. "There's no such thing as real magic. Believe me, I've been around this stuff my whole life. It's all just…it's illusions. It's tricks. It's all fake."

"Jeb Dexter strung up, was that just another illusion?" Dean grits out.



Jay is shocked. He didn't know Dexter was dead. Sam and Dean lay it on the line: that Dexter was found hanged right after Jay slipped the noose in his act. Jay insists that he doesn't know what they are talking about and begs them to let him go.

"Something's not right," Dean asides to Sam.

"Usually they're whipping some bad-ass hoodoo at us by now," Sam agrees.

"What do you want to do?" Dean murmurs.

Later

Jay sits tied to a chair while the brothers brainstorm on the other side of the room, the camera circling them as they ponder who might be responsible if not Jay. Dean points out that even if Jay isn't working the magic he's still getting the reward, since his shows are selling out. Plus of course he isn't dying on stage as he should be, by rights, which seems like a pretty big benefit to me, although Dean doesn't mention that part. Sam glances back toward Jay as he agrees that whoever is responsible is obviously in Jay's corner. Dean notes that this places Charlie and Vernon on the list. Sam shrugs that they could always ask.

They turn back to Jay…and find the chair empty, ropes trailing. Escapology is part of his act, after all, and they didn't exactly tie him tight. Sam was just looking at him two seconds ago, though!

"Guess we should have seen that one coming," Dean sighs, while Sam huffs with frustration that Jay has given him the slip twice now.

Although in this episode the brothers seem a lot calmer and more rested in general than they were in the last episode, still it is clear that they are far from being able to perform to their normal high standard on this job, weary and distracted as they are. It might be a little frustrating to see them making so many mistakes, but it makes for excellent, subtle continuity, this ongoing impact of their personal situation upon their ability to do their job. It is only to be expected, after everything they have been through and given the seeming hopelessness of their situation, that their standard of work would be affected.

The brothers immediately rush out of the room in search of Jay, assuming that he will have fled and not got far, and neither one thinks to take a look around the room first and check the bathroom or closet, to see if he is hiding.

Of course, as soon as they are gone the closet door opens and Jay emerges.

Lobby

The brothers are puzzled at finding no trace of Jay, believing there is no way he could have outrun them. "Maybe he vanished," Dean is willing to believe, which is kind of adorable although not very helpful. "I mean: he really is good."

"Or he found a back door," Sam more realistically suggests.

A police car pulls up outside the hotel and the officers come sprinting inside, just as Jay reaches the bottom of the stairs to helpfully point out Dean and Sam as the men who broke into his room.

Caught bang to rights, all the brothers can do is submit to arrest.



Now, this is the one point on which this episode disappoints me, the fact that the brothers' arrest is used as a minor plot point, a meaningless obstacle thrown in their path purely to keep them out of the way while Jay performs his next show. After the immense difficulties they have had with law enforcement in the past, no arrest should ever be treated so carelessly or lightly. After all, whether Jay presses charges or not, they are carrying false IDs and weapons that are unlikely to be properly licensed. Those facts alone should warrant thorough police investigation once they have been arrested, entirely independent of the charges for breaking into Jay's room and threatening him. They might have been legally declared dead, but their details would still be in the Fed's database and it would take no more than a casual cross-check to discover both their true identity and their extensive criminal records, which would then reopen their files and put them back on the FBI's radar – probably even higher up the Most Wanted list than ever. It feels like careless writing to disregard all that.

Theatre

While Charlie sits and shines his shoes, Jay paces, fretting. "They said my act is killing people! They said that I was using 'real magic', that I was casting spells on tarot cards!"

Charlie indulgently agrees that the intruders must have been nuts and tells Jay he is lucky to be alive.

Jay can't stop thinking about it, however, wondering if maybe somehow the brothers were right – after all, there are all the things he can do now, like that card trick. Charlie points out that he has been working the cards his whole life. Jay points to the escapes, admitting that he hasn't been able to slip a pair of cuffs in thirty years, and frets over the way Patrick Vance and Jeb Dexter died.

"No great loss there," Charlie grunts.

"Oh, Charlie. He didn't deserve to die," Jay sincerely protests.

Charlie insists that Jay had nothing to do with it, but Jay continues to fret that Dexter was hanged the same night he performed the Executioner, all wide-eyed anxiety at the mere thought that it could be true. Charlie can't believe he is even thinking about believing in real magic. Jay no longer knows what to believe and suggests that he shouldn't go on stage tonight. Charlie is appalled at the idea and protests that Jay has a sold out house, something that hasn't happened in years.

"The other night," Jay tiredly says. "When I was doing the Table of Death. I was, um. I was going to kill myself. And I have no idea how I got out alive."

Charlie is shocked to hear this, despite the fact that Jay has been openly suicidal before the show. He points out that Jay did get out alive, somehow. "Jay, when you were in your day you were incredible," he reminds his friend. "The Incredible Jay, you were the best I ever saw. And now you've got it back. I don't know how, but it doesn't matter. Just to see you at the top of your game again – hell, it makes me feel young. […] No buts, Jay. This may be manna from heaven, but whatever it is, you don't throw it away."

Stage

On stage that night, Jay performs the Table of Death once again. While he struggles, Charlie slips away backstage, leaving Vernon to fret alone. The audience is on tenterhooks as Jay fails to slip is bonds in time and the swords come crashing down – and then filled with delight as he pulls back the curtain, safe and sound.

Someone screams backstage, and Jay runs to see what has happened. He finds Charlie lying dead, blood trickling from ten stab wounds.

Jay is distraught.

Hotel lobby

Jay waits in the lobby as Dean and Sam rush back in. They thank him for dropping the charges and wonder why he did it. Looking very old, tired and sad, Jay tells them they need to talk.

And herein lies the weakness of this plot point, because Jay deciding to drop the charges should not have been sufficient to get the brothers off the hook, given the extreme likelihood that they were carrying unlicensed firearms and fraudulent ID at the time of their arrest, which should have brought the weight of the law down on their heads independent of the breaking-and-entering charge. After all, Family Remains aside, when aren't they carrying weapons and fake ID? The arrest is treated as entirely incidental to the plot, an insignificant means of getting the brothers out of the way for a few hours, and yet their first brush with law enforcement since Jus in Bello is something I would have liked to actually see playing out.

Bar

Jay sits across from Sam and Dean, sipping whisky as he tells his story: that he was just a kid who knew no more than how to cheat at cards when he first met Charlie, who got him out of more scrapes than he can count.



Sam glances sideways at Dean upon hearing those words, which resonate strongly with his own experience. Dean has been taking care of Sam his entire life.

Jay believes he wouldn't have made it to twenty if not for Charlie – another sentiment that strikes a chord with Sam. "He was more than my friend," Jay mourns. "He was my brother."

The loss of a brother is something both Winchesters can relate to.

"I should have listened to you guys when you told me that my show was killing people," Jay berates himself.

Dean comfortingly reminds him that he wasn't the one pulling the trigger, but Jay is not reassured, angrily determined to find out who did this to Charlie. He is willing to do whatever Dean and Sam want him to.

"Jay, whoever's doing this, they like you," Sam cautiously begins. "They're probably close to you. Did Charlie and Vernon get along?"

Aghast at the suggestion, Jay immediately insists that it isn't Vernon. Dean and Sam tag-team to gently point out that he is the only suspect who makes sense at this stage; Charlie and Vernon were Jay's family and now Charlie's gone.

"They butted heads sometimes, but Vernon could never do something like this," Jay loyally insists.

Dean flicks uncomfortable side eyes at Sam before carefully explaining. "See, the thing about real magic is it's a whole lot like crack. People do surprising things once they get a taste of it."



Sam shifts in his seat, knowing full well what Dean is thinking about there and unable to argue the comparison because he is still struggling to resist the temptation to use his powers now. Since declaring his intention to give up using his psychic abilities he has backslid at every opportunity. He had what appeared to be a compelling reason – or excuse – every time…but were those reasons good enough, or was the temptation, the compulsion, the greatest factor in his decision-making? Since the comparison has been made, it is worth pointing out that every addict has reasons and excuses to offer for the choices they make.

Jay is out of his depth and flailing. "You'd better be damn sure about this," he whispers. "Vernon's all I've got left."

Vernon's room

Vernon is lounging on his bed watching television when the phone rings. It is Jay, asking him to come downstairs. Vernon says he has something to tell his friend anyway, and heads on out.

Out in the hallway, Vernon locks his door and heads off to meet Jay. Nearby, Dean and Sam lurk around a corner waiting until the coast is clear. Sam then picks the lock to give the brothers entry to Vernon's room.



"Wow. It's like a…magic museum," says Sam when he sees the cluttered state of the room.

"You must be in heaven," quips Dean, never one to pass up an opportunity to rag on his brother, although his tone is sombre rather than teasing, his heart really not in it, just going through the motions. Sam reacts with mild irritation just the same, though, because Sam has never learnt not to react to Dean's leg pulling, which is why Dean can never resist. Dean looks around the room. "This guy doesn't travel light," he observes.

"He's been on the road his whole life," Sam points out. "Probably everything he owns is in this room."

Of course, the brothers have also been on the road all their lives, but they really do travel light, everything they own fitting in the back of the Impala. They start poking around in search of clues.

Theatre

Down in the auditorium, Vernon meets up with Jay, who is staring sadly at the Table of Death that cost Charlie his life. Vernon happily announces that he has talked to the head of the convention and the headliner gig is Jay's. He seems awfully perky for a man who just lost a close friend, but then he doesn't have the direct connection to Charlie's death that Jay does and is clearly focusing all his attention on Jay now, his way of coping.

Still, Vernon's enthusiasm comes across badly to Jay, who shakes his head sadly. He doesn't want the gig. "A day ago if you'd told me I'd be standing on this stage…no, I can't do it, Vernon." Vernon doesn't understand why he doesn't want to take this opportunity. "Charlie's gone," Jay sadly reminds him.



Vernon argues that Charlie would have wanted Jay to go on and take this opportunity. "It's your shot – it's our shot." Reflected glory. Vernon can no longer perform himself, but performance is his life, so everything he has is invested in Jay now.

Since Dean and Sam have got Jay believing that Vernon was responsible for Charlie's death, this does not go over well. "This is what Charlie would have wanted? Charlie's dead."

Hurt, Vernon reminds Jay that Charlie was his friend too. Jay accuses that it was a hell of a way to treat a friend, but Vernon has no idea what he is talking about. Jay cuts to the chase. "You killed him, didn't you? And for what? So that I – so that we – could be back on top?"

Vernon stares. "That's insane. No, you're scaring me."

Now, it isn't clear how Dean and Sam told Jay to play this, and I think we'd benefit from having seen that conversation, because as it is it feels like an error on their part – first we saw Jay asking them what to do and now we see him accusing his friend based on circumstantial evidence only. But it seems more likely that they told Jay to provide a diversion only, so that they could search Vernon's room for hard evidence to make sure of their suspect, rather than advising him to attempt such a vitriolic confrontation on his own – especially since if Vernon did turn out to be responsible, as they suspect, he would be considered extremely dangerous. However, Jay is distraught over the loss of his close friend and mentor and devastated at the thought of the other murders that were committed for his sake, and so is unable to restrain himself. He verbally lashes out at his old friend over the deaths and also the fact that he feels horribly used.

"I wouldn't be so hard on him, Jay," a new voice interrupts. "He didn't do it."

A young man walks out onto the stage, a young man we haven't seen before…and yet has a very familiar birthmark above his right eye. Jay recognises him and gasps in shock.

Vernon's room

Dean and Sam are not exactly impressed with what they have found in Vernon's room. It is all just old time magician stuff – none of it actually magic. No herbs, no candles and no tarot cards.

But then Dean sifts through a few old magazines and spots something on the cover of one of them. 'The Great Dessertini', the headline reads, over an illustration of a young magician – a young magician sporting a birthmark just above his right eye. "Look like anyone we know?" Dean pointedly asks, holding it up for Sam to see.

Theatre

Jay and Vernon are beyond stunned to see their old friend Charlie again, magically restored as a young man. The casting of father and son, John and Michael Rubenstein, as old and young Charlie is a fabulous touch.

However, just how Charlie achieved this rejuvenation is never explained, and this is another plot hole in an otherwise excellent episode. We know that he uses black magic, and have been told that he was able to transfer Jay's would-be deaths onto other victims, can only presume that this is another kind of spell, but there is no actual explanation of how he was able to give his own life to keep Jay alive and then restore his fatally damaged body to youthful health and vigour afterward.

"God, you forget what it feels like to be young," Charlie exults, and Vernon asks just how old he is. Charlie says that it depends what he means by 'how old?' "Right now, technically, about twenty-eight. But I've been around a lot longer than that. […] Long enough to have shilled for Barnum."

There is a slight pause while I go away and look up who Barnum was and when he lived. Quite some time ago. So Charlie must be on something like this third go-around now, and yet has only just discovered the value of friendship, it seems, albeit far too late – he has already been thoroughly corrupted by the black magic he has been using for so long.

Charlie explains that Barnum gave him something. A grimoire: a book of real magic. At first he thought it was just a scam, but then he tried one of the spells and it worked – they all worked. "So when I got to the end and there was one for immortality…?" he gloats, leaving his friends to fill in the dots themselves.

Vernon seems rather delighted by the concept, but Jay is crushed to realise that his show, all the things he can suddenly do, were all fixed by Charlie. He had been so proud of his own rejuvenated ability, only to have even that taken away from him with the realisation that Charlie was pulling his strings, cheating on his behalf without even extending the courtesy of asking permission. Deceiving him all along.

Not recognising his friend's offence, Charlie blithely explains that it is a different spell, but gives a taste of what is possible. He pulls a deck of tarot cards out of his pocket and Vernon, fascinated, reaches for them, but Charlie warns him off. "I wouldn't touch those, Vernon – they're still radioactive."



Charlie is laughing at his own cleverness, but Jay is appalled. "You killed Vance and Jeb Dexter," he accuses, still struggling to believe it.

"What, you think this is a parlour game?" Charlie coldly retaliates. "You were being humiliated by those punks. A washed up old man who couldn't even defend himself."

Man, and he doesn't even see how patronising and offensive his own attitude is, to the man who had considered him a best friend and brother.

"You used me to do these terrible things," Jay spits at his no-longer-old friend, bitterly hurt at the thought of just how deceived he has been all these years. He had believed that he knew Charlie so well, only to discover that he barely knew him at all.

Charlie turns it around. "I used them to give you a gift. And you wanted it, Jay. I saw it in your eyes."

The contrasting points of view here are striking and resonate strongly with Dean and Sam's situation. Jay believes that he was used to harm others. Charlie believes that he used others to help Jay. Dean and Sam both know how it feels to be given the gift of life at a price they would never willingly have paid. Throughout the show, Dean has consistently bargained with whatever small means he possesses – with his own life and soul only – while Sam has consistently proved willing to get into debt by bargaining with resources that are not his to give – up to and including the lives of others. Round and round and round they go, and where they stop…?

Jay shakes his head, resolute. "No, I never wanted this."

Charlie points out that Jay was ready to kill himself and insists that he saved his friend's life. Vernon is upset to realise how close to the edge Jay had been, while Charlie continues to insist that all he was doing was being there for Jay, just like he always has been and always will be. "Come with me, both of you," he urges. "You think the first time around was good, the second time's even better. All the know-how, none of the aches and pains."

Vernon seems to be up for it, the idea of being young again intoxicating, in spite of the heavy cost that he has no way of fully understanding at this point, but Jay keeps shaking his head, refusing to contemplate the idea, knowing that it is wrong.

"I've never made this offer before, but then again I've never had friends like the two of you before," Charlie presses, going for the hard sell. "Let me do this for you."

"And who else has to die so that we can live forever?" Jay pointedly asks, and it is a very good question indeed, the crux of the issue. "What's the price tag on immortality?"

On this show, there is always a price, and it is always a massive one.

Jay insists that this isn't right and that somewhere deep inside Charlie must know that.

Jay is a really strong character – the actor does a fantastic job of conveying his turbulent emotions through the episode, from depression through rejuvenation and onto devastation, hurt and deep betrayal. He thought he knew Charlie so well, and now learns that he has not only been keeping the worst kind of secret all these years but is capable of this, sociopathic. It is a heavy, heavy blow.

All Charlie has to say is that he doesn't want to come back and have to start all over alone. Maybe he should have thought of that before he made himself young again, or perhaps he is just so arrogant that he assumed the agreement of his friends was a foregone conclusion. He really wasn't listening to Jay earlier when he expressed his horror at the thought of Vance and Dexter dying for his sake, too caught up with his own desires.

Staring at Charlie in rapt fascination, Vernon speaks up, trying to persuade Jay to agree. Vernon hasn't been able to work as a magician in years. The thought of being young again is tremendously seductive to him. Charlie keeps up the pressure, dangling the prospect of the three of them being together, vital and alive.

"Not so fast!" Dean loudly interrupts as he and Sam approach the stage – thus handily delivering themselves up to Charlie as one sacrifice apiece for that immortality he wants for Jay and Vernon. "I ain't Guttenberg and this ain't Cocoon." Heh.

Dean and Sam join the others on stage, guns in hand. Jay backs off, hands in the air, while Charlie looks defiant. Dean gestures for the two older men to move away from Charlie, and Vernon hurriedly skips away.

"Immortality?" Dean begins. "That's a neat trick."



Unmoved, and not the slightest bit concerned about the guns trained on him, Charlie smiles that it isn't a trick. It's magic, he stresses, as the Executioner's noose swoops down, snares Dean by the neck, and hauls him up off his feet and high into the air.

Alarmed, Sam wastes absolutely no time staring at or shouting for his brother, but instead swiftly levels his gun at Charlie's face and fires. Unmoved, Charlie catches the bullet in his mouth and gloats, tosses it in the air, and flickers out of sight.



In strangled tones, Dean yells for Sam to get him, hands scrabbling frantically at the rope around his neck in a desperate attempt to keep his airway open. He's lucky the rope is so high up, right under the chin – takes longer to choke to death that way, which is a nasty way to go, sure, but allows maximum time for last minute rescues.



Sam frantically looks around for Charlie, and finds him standing cheekily alongside the Table of Death. Charlie winks. Storming over, Sam yells at him to let Dean go, because saving his brother's life suddenly became the priority here, way over and above persuading Charlie to desist what he is doing on a more permanent basis. Charlie drawls for Sam to just leave him and his friends alone, perhaps testing the water, wondering if a compromise can be sought – his tone suggests otherwise, though. Sam repeats his demand.

Charlie says all right, he'll give it up – the spells, the hexes, this is the last time, he promises. But can he be trusted? In the brief pause that follows, the only sound is that of Dean's increasingly laboured struggle to breathe. Sam considers the offer, decides it is not good enough, and lunges for the magician…which is a very unwise move since Charlie has already demonstrated his ability to teleport. Plus, of course, Sam's expertise at the old hand-to-hand has always been rather hit-or-miss.

Charlie makes the most of the opportunity he has been afforded by vanishing again only to appear right behind Sam and give him a hefty shove, knocking him flat on his back on the Table of Death. The restraints promptly slam shut, strapping Sam down most effectively.



So, both brothers are now in mortal peril, emphasising just how far below their usual standard they are playing at the moment. So far in this episode they have struggled to pull the evidence together to form a clear picture of their adversary, still less correctly identify the perpetrator. They have allowed a frail old man to escape them twice. They have got themselves arrested, which could and maybe should have worked out extremely badly for them. They failed to formulate any actual strategy for dealing with the magician once they found him, beyond waving their guns around and hoping he would be intimidated. They have been one step behind all the way, reacting based on little more than guesswork rather than solving the puzzle and acting decisively, their personal problems proving too much of a distraction for them to focus effectively on the job, and as a result the magician has bested them with supreme ease.

I'm unclear on how the whole immortality spell works, but am going to assume that Charlie is now poised to sacrifice Sam and Dean's life and youth to secure that promised immortality for Jay and Vernon, despite the fact that neither has agreed to his offer and Jay in fact flatly turned it down. Plus, obviously, he wants to get rid of the brothers before they can put a stop to him.

Sam stares at the blades suspended above him in alarm as the rope holding them up begins to fray and snap. He struggles, but the restraints around his wrists and ankles hold firm. Nearby, Dean is still hanging by the neck, choking. Jay looks helplessly from one to the other, and sees clearly that they are not going to be able to save themselves.



Charlie also looks from one to the other, gloating…but then doubles over in sudden pain, clutching at his stomach with blood trickling between his fingers. Sam stares at him in shock and then looks over to see that Jay has stabbed himself in the stomach – this injury somehow transferred to Charlie.

Charlie is appalled by this betrayal. Sam is shocked. Hiding in the wings, Vernon shakes his head in sorrowful disapproval. Hanging just above the stage, Dean continues to choke, pretty much oblivious to everything going on below him.

Jay reaches into a pocket and pulls out Charlie's deck of en-spelled tarot cards. Charlie can't believe what he's seeing, reaches into his own pocket and finds just one card in it, planted on him like a target. The spell he cast to protect Jay is still in force, and Jay has now used it against him. "Jay? You pick these strangers over me?" he disbelievingly accuses, and then falls over dead. The card in his hand? The Magician, fittingly enough.

Again, it is unclear how this works. If Charlie is supposed to be immortal, how could he be killed, even using his cursed tarot cards? Or is it less immortality, technically, and more that he is able to rejuvenate his body each time it grows old and dies? It isn't clear. It also isn't clear at what point Jay pulled his sleight of hand, setting the stage for a decision he no doubt hoped he would not have to make, although the other spell that Charlie cast – the one to enhance Jay's sleight of hand abilities – no doubt helped him pull it off.

With Charlie dead, the bolts on Sam's restraints open and the rope holding Dean falls free, dropping him to the floor. Sam hurries off the Table of Death with seconds to spare as the rope snaps and the blades come crashing down. On the floor, Dean pulls the noose from his neck and gasps for breath, coughing and spluttering. "You okay?" Sam anxiously asks.

Down on hands and knees clutching at his abused throat, Dean turns wide, freaked eyes upon his brother, but nods. "Yeah. I'm all right."



As they recover from their near escape, the brother look at Jay, who stands gazing down at the body of his friend with deep, deep sorrow and self-loathing, utterly destroyed by the events of the night.

Bar

Jay sits alone at a table near the bar, idly fumbling with his deck of cards, his arthritic hands shaking once more and his heart no longer in it, the cards spilling from his control.

Dean and Sam come into the bar and approach the old man as he sits there sunk in depression. "Hey, Jay?" Dean quietly calls. "We wanted to thank you for what you did yesterday."

For saving our lives is what he means, but Jay is in no mood to see it that way. "I killed my best friend yesterday, and you want to thank me?"

It's all about perspective. What is right and what is wrong? What price life? What price death? How do you balance one life against another and who has the right to make that choice?

Dean looks sombre, recognising the old man's devastation and regret. There really isn't a lot either brother can say, so Sam takes a different tack and asks where Vernon is.



"Oh, he's gone," Jay bitterly explains. "Said he didn't want to speak to me again after what I did to Charlie."

This is just a very, very sad story. No happy endings for anyone. Sam looks miserable.

"Listen, Jay," says Dean. "You know Charlie was never going to give up what he was doing. Ever." Jay nods, but can't meet his eyes. "You did the right thing," Dean insists.

Absolution is important. Dean knows that. He also knows that the guilty party can't always accept it, but the offering is still important. Dean has always tried to give to others the kind of support and reassurance he is unable to accept himself.

Jay's eyes flash. "You sure about that? You know, Charlie was like my brother. Now he's dead. Because I did the right thing. He offered me a gift and I just threw it back in his face. So now I have to spend the rest of my life old and alone. What's so right about that?"



Both brothers are stricken, Jay's words resounding strongly and vividly for each of them, in so many ways. Dean hangs his head, hit hard by those words, while Sam's eyes are bright with sorrow once more, flickering from the old man to his brother.

Show has always liked to use the case of the week to provide parallels with the brothers' situation, and there are so many overlapping and contrasting parallels here I hardly know where to begin and don't have a hope of capturing them all.

In one sense Sam is Jay to Dean's Charlie, receiving the gift of life at a price he would never have willingly paid – his brother's life and soul. But then again, we have seen in episodes such as Mystery Spot that Sam has been more than willing to sacrifice innocent lives in exchange for his brother, making Sam Charlie to Dean's Jay. Like Jay, Dean cannot see any life for himself beyond this one thing that he can do. Like Charlie, Sam is willing to take short cuts to achieve his goals. Dean sacrificed his life and soul for Sam; what might Sam, in return, be willing to sacrifice for Dean?

Charlie was seduced by the power afforded him by the spells in Barnum's grimoire. Sam has been seduced by the power instilled in him by Azazel. Charlie would never have given up that power – will Sam prove likewise or will he ultimately have the strength to resist? Should he resist, or is there a benefit great enough to make the cost worthwhile? Dean has been warned repeatedly through the seasons that he might have to make a choice someday: his brother's life versus doing the right thing. Will he eventually be pushed into having to make that choice, just as Jay was here?

So what is right and what is wrong? What price life? What price death? This episode asks some incredibly searching questions.

The barmaid from the teaser calls after Jay that he has left his cards behind, but Jay just tells her to throw them away and walks out of the bar and away from his life's work for good.

Both brothers look crushed. Dean tries hard to rally his spirits. "Well, I don't know about you, but I could go for a beer," he offers. This case has hit them both hard and Dean is asking for his brother to spend time with him, wants to indulge in healing amounts of beer, together, so that they can pretend they are okay.



But Sam can't do it. "I'm going to take a walk," he quietly says, voice tight, flicking his eyes toward Dean's but unable to hold them. He walks out, and Dean is left alone with his gloom.

Outside

A car waits in the alleyway just outside the bar. We have seen this car before, just the once, and a familiar figure can just about be made out behind the wheel in the long shot. Ruby. This is Ruby's car, and Ruby is at the wheel, waiting for Sam. Exiting the bar, he walks straight over to the passenger door, informing us very clearly that this meeting was pre-arranged, although I'm not sure how or when.

"Okay," says Sam, looking scared but resolved. "I'm in." He gets into the car. Ruby looks pleased and asks what changed his mind. Sam looks tired and troubled as he very simply replies, "I don't want to be doing this when I'm an old man."



That's good enough for Ruby. They drive away.

Damn, but that hits hard, seeing Sam lying to his brother and sneaking away to meet Ruby in secret once more, betraying Dean's trust yet again at a time when Dean in turn has been completely open and honest with his brother, placed greater trust in him than ever before, when it looked like the divide between them created by Dean's death was finally beginning to heal. There is no way this can end well.

It would be nice to feel that Sam had learned not to do this...but it is very in character for him. We have seen it throughout the show. Sam makes promises, and means them completely in that moment…but he doesn't hesitate to go back on his word if he feels differently at a later date. It isn't his most stellar personality trait, but it is very consistent. Whatever it is he has agreed to do with Ruby, he doesn't believe he can explain it to Dean – he knows it is something his brother would oppose and can't bear the thought of another devastating confrontation, knows that neither of them could take it right now – so he avoids the problem by going behind Dean's back, no doubt reassuring himself that what Dean doesn't know can't hurt him.

It is very Sam behaviour, and we've seen him building up to it for a number of episodes now. Sam has been deeply affected by his brother's confessions about hell – we have seen his grief, as well as his utter hopelessness because there is nothing he can do. Dean paid this enormous price for Sam's life, is still paying that price even now, and it is a debt Sam cannot repay.

Sam has always needed to feel in control of his own life and his decision-making has often revolved around that need. Lately, however, all he has felt is powerless and out of control. He is exhausted and conflicted, desperate to give back to Dean a little of what his brother has given for him, has got Ruby goading him on, and just wants it all to be over.

Sam's intentions are good: he wants to destroy Lilith and avert the Apocalypse. His motives are strong: he wants to reassert control over his own life and destiny, act instead of react; he wants to save lives; he wants to give his brother the gift of surcease. But, on the flip side, he has received numerous warnings now not to go down this road. So will good intentions and strong motivations balance out whatever it is he and Ruby plan to do together? How high a price is Sam willing to pay for the mere chance of victory?

Ruby has impressed upon Sam that the war is not going well and emphasised that he has the power to end it, once and for all, stressed how many lives he could save if he just gets over his qualms and goes along with her plan, whatever it may be. Sam has insisted in the past that he can bend his demon-given power for good, trusts his own ability not to fall to the dark side in the process, despite being aware that he is playing with fire. Sam's own nature predisposes him toward the short cut that might resolve the situation permanently, whatever the cost, rather than continuing to fight on to the bitter end with no actual hope of victory. And, sadly, it seems that it was listening to his brother's bleak expectations for the future, allied with the unhappy outcome of this case, which finally pushed Sam into making the decision to embrace his inner darkness as the price for winning the war.

What is right and what is wrong? When do or don't the normal rules apply? Ordinarily, after all, killing anyone is considered wrong, but for Jay killing Charlie was the right thing to do, however much he hated himself for it, because it was the only way to prevent Charlie continuing to kill others. The needs of the many outweighed the needs of the one.

So what about Sam and Dean? Sam has been cautioned many times not to use his abilities, threatened with dire imprecations if he does, but appears to have decided that the possibility of killing Lilith and averting the Apocalypse is worth whatever price he might have to pay for going against these warnings. But is he right? Or would turning his back on that opportunity be the right thing to do, repressing his abilities and watching others die knowing that maybe he could have prevented it? He did that once already, watched Dean die in No Rest For The Wicked knowing that Ruby had offered him a way of preventing it. Clearly he is not prepared to do that again. And when trying to decide what is the right thing to do, the next obvious question becomes right for whom? Right for Sam? Right for Dean? Or right for the world?

And what about Dean, what might turn out to be the right thing for him to do? Save Sam – or kill him? He has had that choice hanging over his head for a long time now, and it keeps recurring. Will he eventually find himself forced to actually make that decision, whether to save others at Sam's expense or to continue to put his brother's life ahead of all other consideration? Whose best interests take priority in these morally confusing times?

And perhaps we should bear in mind the oft-repeated caveat that not everything supernatural is evil and deserves to die. That message has been hammered home many times now, over the seasons. In the Supernatural universe, the right thing to do is almost always horribly hard…but all too often, the hardest thing of all is deciding what is right in the first place.

So, as for what Sam and Ruby have gone off to do…all I can say is that I am very intrigued to learn more! I'm also a little scared, because it is clear that things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, but mostly excited. I feel engaged by the mytharc again, after having felt rather disconnected from the show going into hiatus. I want to know what Sam has agreed to do and am afraid for how badly it might turn out. I am curious to know how closely the angels are monitoring his activities and worried about how big a risk he might be taking – how are they likely to react to this decision and what might it mean for both Sam and Dean? And I am deeply concerned for how Dean is likely to react when he finds out that his little brother has betrayed his trust yet again, and what impact it is likely to have on their already strained relationship.

Roll on the remainder of the season!

January 2009

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