Supernatural 4.16 On The Head Of A Pin

"The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it."

This is an incredible episode. Hard-hitting and deeply disturbing, it is difficult to watch, but also endlessly fascinating in its complexity, pushing both plot and character development on all sides forward in leaps and bounds. Sam-Dean, Sam-Ruby, Dean-Castiel, Castiel-Uriel, Castiel-Anna: all the actors involved did an amazing job with the intensity, complexity and intimacy of the relationships portrayed. The episode is incredibly dense, every single scene crammed full of layer upon layer of intricate and intense development and meaning, every possible shade of nuance. Intensely powerful and epic, this one will reverberate for a long time still to come.

Then

Lilith was trying to break 66 Seals to free Lucifer from hell. Castiel pulled Dean out of hell. Fugitive Anna remembered that she was a runaway angel. Alistair and Dean had a history. Uriel was a specialist angel. Pamela Barnes was the best damn psychic in the state. Pamela was killed by a demon while helping Dean and Sam save one of the 560 or so possible Seals not yet broken by Lilith. Dean confessed to Sam that he broke under torture in hell and agreed to torture other souls in exchange for freedom from pain, and was now crippled by remorse and self-loathing. Sam was meeting Ruby in secret to boost his psychic abilities by means as yet unknown to us. Before she died, Pamela whispered an ominous warning to Sam about his secret activities.

Got all that? Phew!

Now

It is pouring with rain. A cacophony of car alarms blare amid a scene of devastation, broken glass and smashed up vehicles everywhere. Castiel wanders among them looking grim and troubled. The noise evidently annoys him as much as it does me, for he holds up a hand and all the alarms instantly shut off, which is a really nifty trick that I wish I could emulate. Maybe if I was Sam I could give it a go!

At the epicentre of the mechanical carnage a young woman lies in the middle of the road. She is wearing white, which is only fitting, since she is dead. On this show, women wearing white are always either dead or evil. She is also very carefully arranged in pretty much the exact position that Mary and Jessica were in when they died. Show does love its parallels, both visual and metaphorical.

Castiel gazes down upon the corpse and is grieved. Gently lifting a fold of that impractical white frock to reveal a bloody stab wound at the base of the neck, he whispers, "goodbye, sister." And thus we learn that this was another angel, lost to the ongoing demon war.

Castiel vanishes as a bunch of police cars come speeding up in a blaze of flashing lights and sirens. As the bewildered officers mill around wondering what happened here, the camera pulls back to an aerial view – which reveals the pattern of two immense angel wings scorched onto the ground beneath the dead woman. Wow. Gorgeous visual effect work!


Titles

Road. Night

The Impala speeds along a typical Supernatural deserted road, and when I say speed, I mean speed.

Sam is at the wheel playing at boy-racer today, so we immediately know that something is not quite right. Sam doesn't drive often, because being behind the wheel is usually a source of comfort and reassurance for Dean. Not tonight, though. Tonight Dean is hunched up in the passenger seat looking tired and depressed.

"Ruby'll meet us outside Cheyenne," Sam offers, apparently apropos of nothing, an almost tentative attempt at both breaking the silence and bridging the divide. "She's been tracking some leads."

That's an interesting opening gambit, telling us immediately that Sam is at last belatedly attempting to build bridges by openly discussing with Dean his ongoing communication with Ruby. On the surface it looks like progress, a step taken in the right direction, that Sam is aware of how much his lies have hurt his brother and is at least trying to give him a little of the honesty he asked for.

On the flip side, however, it is clear that Sam is in fact only being honest about the part Dean had already found out for himself, fobbing his brother off with a half truth in hopes of diverting him away from all the other things Sam doesn't want him to know about. It is an attempt to meet Dean halfway, but it is also a manipulative way of continuing to hide the rest of Sam's dirty little secrets. It is also too little too late. The damage has already been done.

It could also be argued that Sam is concerned about his brother's apathy and trying to provoke a reaction. Ruby's name should be like a red rag to a bull. And yet Dean doesn't react. He grunts noncommittally, and Sam's temper flares. "Look, I know she's not exactly on your Christmas list," he snaps. "But if she can help us get to Lilith…"

Sam is trying…but very much on his own terms, and if Dean isn't prepared to meet those terms, Sam gets irritable. He is so very much his father's son, hoarding his secrets, tunnel-visioned with a target in sight, utterly convinced of his own self-righteousness, angry when challenged, magnanimous in the few concessions he is prepared to make and annoyed when they are not considered sufficient, and never once prepared to back down and accept that someone else, Dean, might just have a valid point.

"Hey, man. Work with Ruby, don't – I don't really give a rat's ass," Dean tiredly dismisses, sounding utterly defeated, and it sends a chill down my spine because it sounds like he is giving up, and Dean never gives up. He especially never gives up on Sam. No matter what life throws at him, he always picks himself up and keeps on fighting, if only because he doesn't know how to do anything else. But not any more: not here, not now.


"What's your problem?" asks Sam, annoyed, and unwilling to empathise because Dean's issues are just too much to deal with and keep crashing against obsessions Sam is not prepared to let go of and decisions he is not prepared to re-examine.

"Pam didn't want anything to do with this, and we dragged her back into it, Sam," Dean unhappily points out. Sam insists that Pam knew what was at stake, which is true, but Dean is in no mood to hear it, wallowing in misery. "Oh yeah. Saving the world. And we're doing such a damn good job of it. […] I'm tired of burying friends, Sam."

Dean has been on a downward slide into deep, dark depression for quite some time now, ever since his memories of hell started to re-surface, escalating once his walls of denial broke down and he confessed to Sam what had happened to him down there. Death Takes a Holiday cemented his despair, as he was confronted by his former torturer, manipulated and lied to by angels, had what little hope he had managed to cling onto stomped all over by a Reaper, and watched yet another friend and ally die a brutal death. The Apocalypse is coming and he doesn't believe it can be prevented. He fears both what the angels intend for him and what would happen to him if he failed to comply. His brother is no longer just sliding but now taking giant leaps into the abyss and Dean has no way to hold him back. And he can't even crave the respite of death, not knowing what he knows and having experienced it once already. No wonder he is drowning in desolation.

"Look, we catch a fresh trail," Sam begins, evidently determined to buck his brother up, although still not empathising. He's not even trying to understand or console any more. Dean is on the floor, and where once Sam would have offered a gentle hand to support him back to his feet he is now poking and prodding at him to get back up by himself, before he is ready.


Dean has never before been this broken, and Sam simply cannot handle it. He has no frame of reference for what his brother has been through, knows only that the aftermath is overwhelming, and has reacted to that by shutting down instead of offering a loving shoulder to lean on. Viewing Dean's brokenness through the distorted lens of his own enhanced abilities and need to preserve his secrets warps his ability to empathise even more, to the point where he is impatient with and dismissive of Dean's depression, purely because it is difficult to deal with and gets in the way of his own plans.

"And we follow it, I know," Dean wearily finishes for him. "Like I said, I'm just getting tired."

"Well, get angry," Sam snaps. It's not a suggestion, and it's not encouragement. It's an order, as if he can bully Dean out of this funk. The difference between this new Sam and the Sam of yore has never been starker, the truth behind those harsh words the siren dragged out of him has never been so clear, and the gulf between the brothers has never seemed so wide. Each of them is drowning in his own issues and thus they are able only to drag one another down further, rather than throwing a line to pull each other out.

Dean says nothing, just stares unhappily off into space.

Cheyenne. Motel

"Home, crappy home," mutters Dean as the brothers enter their latest motel room and flick on the light. And then they both jump out of their skin when they realise they are not alone in the room.


"Winchester and Winchester," Uriel smirks, and Dean groans his dismay. "You are needed," the angel announces, focused on Dean and ignoring Sam completely.

Dean is in no mood for this. "Needed? We just got back from needed," he spits, and Uriel sternly warns him to mind his tone, but this is just fuel to the fire. "No, you mind your damn tone with us," he growls, with the deceptions and manipulations of the last episode, as well as Tessa's warning, no doubt vivid in his mind. And hey, Sam did tell him to get angry! Uriel makes a good target.

At this precise moment, however, Sam is not so sure anger is the appropriate tactic, so he steps in and attempts to placate, explaining that the brothers just got back from Pamela's funeral. And I know some people have puzzled over this, equating funeral with interment and wondering why she wasn't burned, so I would like to take this opportunity to point out that cremation is also a type of funeral.

Anyway. This merely provides Dean with more ammunition and he spits at the very subdued Castiel that he should remember Pamela, having burned the eyes right out of her head. Lurking quietly in a far corner, Castiel looks troubled, perhaps in part by this reminder but mostly by other issues that Dean is currently unaware of.

"Then she died saving one of your precious Seals," Dean concludes. "So maybe you can stop pushing us around like chess pieces, for five freaking minutes!"

Heh. In my recap for Death Takes a Holiday, I used very much that exact phraseology to describe Dean's objection to angelic tactics!

Supercilious, Uriel plays the trump card. "We raised you out of hell for our purposes," he coldly reminds Dean.

This particular Sword of Damocles has been hanging over Dean's head all season, the foreboding knowledge that he was not resurrected for altruistic reasons but rather that the price of his salvation has merely not yet been revealed. Still, he refuses to be intimidated, sick to the back teeth of having this mystery held over him. "Yeah, what were those again? What exactly do you want from me?"

It's a straight question. A fair question. He deserves to know and has a right to know, having been waiting for the other shoe to drop all season – although that old altruism, 'be careful what you wish for', also comes to mind. Uriel, however, like Castiel before him, opts not to give a straight answer. "Start with gratitude," the angel menaces.

It's a nicely intimidating opening strategy, reminding Dean that he owes the angels a debt and that they expect it to be paid in full, with subtle undertones of threat that he could be tossed back if he fails to comply. Cleverly played by Uriel.

Dean, however, reacts with sarcastic cynicism, refusing to kowtow to the angel, and Castiel steps in to try to get the conversation back on track before the squabble gets out of hand. "Dean, we know this is difficult to understand," he begins.

"And we," Uriel interrupts, half-turning to glower at Castiel, who retreats once more. "Don't. Care."

Dean glances from the dominant Uriel to the subdued Castiel, starting to look seriously worried about the obvious shift in team dynamics here. Castiel is usually the one calling Uriel to heel. Seeing those roles reversed is unsettling – not least because Castiel tends to be the more sympathetic of the two, the one with whom Dean has struck up a rapport.


Uriel then announces that seven angels from their garrison have been murdered and the last murder took place this very night. Now, loss and grief are sentiments that Dean and Sam understand only too well – although Sam really is not a part of this conversation, a mere bystander excluded utterly by all parties. Dean drops the attitude immediately now he knows that the angels are also mourning the very fresh loss of good friends and allies, and asks, in businesslike manner, if it was demons – and how they are doing it.

How can an angel be killed? The answer to that question is pivotal to the plot of this episode.

Uriel admits that they don't know how the demons are managing to kill angels.

But…Castiel told Dean back in Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester that six angels had fallen in battle just that week. If demons aren't able to kill angels, what the hell was all that about? Surely those six can't be part of the seven Uriel is talking about now, because that was months ago and this appears to be something new. The continuity there is a little dicey.

Sam interrupts. "I'm sorry, but what do you want us to do about it?" Nice work, emphasising that he and Dean are a partnership and that whatever the angels want Dean to do, Sam both expects to be included and in fact will insist on it, because he is not about to let his brother face whatever it is alone. "I mean, a demon with the juice to ice angels has to be out of our league, right?" he points out, reasonably enough – sensibly avoiding any reference to his own rapidly growing psychic powers, although they in fact stand him in good stead against pretty much any demon.

Uriel snaps that they can handle the demon just fine, thanks all the same, and Castiel interjects that finding the demon responsible is the problem. And once again Uriel flicks a dismissive glance at his colleague, subtly but firmly putting him back in his place. Castiel is no longer in charge of this partnership: that much is clear.

Dean summarises what he's been told so far. "So, you need our help hunting a demon?" Again stressing Sam's inclusion, that they are a team and work together, with a side note of derision that these almighty angels are coming to a pair of mere humans for help with this task.

Castiel steps forward, looking tired and worried, and explains that that isn't quite it, since they have Alistair. Dean doesn't see the problem, since Alistair should be able to name the angel-killer for them, but Castiel lays it on the line: the demon won't talk. "Alistair's will is very strong. We've arrived at an impasse."

Dean huffs a humourless chuckle to himself, remembering only too vividly just how strong Alistair's will is and not the slightest bit surprised that he should be causing problems for his angelic captors. "Yeah, well, he's, like, a black belt in torture," he points out. "You guys are out of your league."

"That's why we've come to his student," Uriel calmly explains, and Dean freezes, understanding now why the angels have come to him and aghast at the mere thought of it, dismay and disbelief flooding his face as Uriel continues, "You happen to be the most qualified interrogator we've got." He hates offering even such a backhanded compliment, you can tell.

Dean's head drops, eyes hooded, jaw clenched, body language screaming denial and refusal.

Castiel, who at least has the grace to sound unhappy about what he is asking, urges, "Dean, you're our best hope."

Dean sets his resolve. "No," he very firmly and categorically refuses. "No way. You can't ask me to do this, Cas – not this."


He looks utterly devastated that they are even asking him to re-visit his experiences in the Pit, and Castiel eyes him worriedly, knowing damn well that just asking the question is unforgivable, both in terms of what Dean has been through and what they as angels are meant to represent.

But Uriel smirks and steps closer to Dean. "Who said anything about asking?" he menaces.

Unnerved by the implication, Dean flicks anxious eyes toward his brother in search of support…but by the time Sam's head has snapped around to stare back at him in alarm, it is already too late. With a flutter of unseen wings, the angels have vanished – taking Dean with them.

Shocked, Sam bellows his anger and dismay at his brother's abduction, stamping his foot with rage. "Dammit!"

Abandoned meat processing plant

An actual abattoir? Oh, man, that's kind of on the nose, considering what the place is about to be used for.

Through the dirt-encrusted window of an inner door, we see Alistair: chained to a Star of David in the centre of an intricate devil's trap. Castiel explains to Dean that the trap is old Enochian and that the demon is bound completely. After all, Dean is only human and the angels want him to walk into that room and start torturing a demon, against which he would be completely and utterly defenceless if it managed to break free. If and when he walks into that room he would be absolutely reliant on the trap Alistair is bound within to contain the demon effectively. Castiel is trying to reassure him on that score, at least, as the only possible reassurance he has to offer.


And yet it will later be revealed that this trap is not quite as secure as Castiel thinks it is, that the assurance he is offering here is totally hollow.

Dean stares at Alistair for a long, long moment, and then gathers up his resolve. "Fascinating," he snips, turning around and walking away. "Where's the door?" Castiel asks where he is going. Dean does not break stride for a second. "Hitch back to Cheyenne, thank you very much," he determinedly tosses back.

But, with a flutter of unseen wings, Uriel positions himself between Dean and the exit, cold and implacable. "Angels are dying, boy," he menaces.

"Everybody's dying these days," Dean bitterly spits. "And hey, I get it: you're all powerful. You can make me do whatever you want. But you can't make me do this," he insists, turning to direct this protest at Castiel.


"This is too much to ask. I know," Castiel acknowledges. He's got that part right. "But we have to ask it." For that part, however, he is reliant on what he has been told, by Uriel, and not once does it occur to him to question the origin of that order.

The angel's worried blue eyes bore into Dean's horrified hazel eyes, and Dean can't hold them. He's trapped and he knows it. Abducted and imprisoned, he doesn't even know where he is. Uriel took pains earlier to remind him that he owes a debt they expect to be paid in full, and implied that this right here is a non-negotiable instalment. It is very clear that the angel will not allow him to leave until he complies with this demand, and for all Dean knows would probably take great pleasure in casting him back into the Pit if he tried to escape. Also, until the angels find out who is killing their fellows and how, more angels will continue to die and their ability to wage this war will continue to diminish. What they are asking is an abomination and Dean knows damn well it could and probably will destroy him, but he can also see clearly that he has no choice in the matter. That realisation alone is crushing.

Throughout the show, Dean has believed strongly in the ability of every individual to forge their own destiny through the decisions that they make. And yet his own ability to choose, his free will and independent agency, have been whittled away more and more. Reclaiming it must surely be an important part of the healing process once he turns the corner and starts to recover from everything that has happened to him.

Turning to Uriel, Dean announces that he wants to talk to Castiel alone. Whatever differences he and Castiel have had in the past, they also have a strong bond, an understanding that neither one could even begin to explain. Uriel is little more than a bully, but Dean trusts Castiel's judgement.

Uriel doesn't argue. "I think I'll go seek revelation," he decides. "We might have some further orders."

I like how he makes that sound like a threat, as if those further orders could be related to Dean's recalcitrance. He really knows how to apply passive aggressive pressure in all the right spots. I also like the nice, subtle implication that this is how orders are habitually received, this order included. One or other of the angels 'receives revelation' and passes it on to the other, and Uriel is clearly the one in charge right now, the one currently receiving all the orders at the moment. It is a system wide open to corruption – Uriel could tell Castiel anything, and he would believe it without question. The trust he places in his brother angels is absolute. Not once does it occur to him to doubt, not until it is far, far too late.

Refusing to be intimidated, Dean snips at the angel to get some donuts while he is out, and Uriel laughs. "Oh, this one just won't quit, will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy."

With that, he is gone, and oh man. I think I'm starting to like you, boy. That line takes on a whole new meaning with hindsight, when we know that Uriel set this whole thing up and plans for Dean to die here, that's he's offering those words of patronising benediction by way of farewell to his intended murder victim.

With Uriel gone, Dean turns back to Castiel, in whose company he feels far more secure. "You guys don't walk enough. You're going to get flabby," he quips. Anything to avoid the subject at hand and delay the moment of truth. Castiel just looks at him, calm and uncomprehending, and Dean shakes his head with a sigh. "I'm starting to think Junkless has a better sense of humour than you do."

Oh, he does. That much has been obvious from the start! Clueless Castiel looks puzzled, and intones, "Uriel is the funniest angel in the garrison, ask anyone," without even a hint of irony. Or was that meant to be a joke. With Castiel it is impossible to tell, because he has no sense of humour at all!

Seeing no point beating around the bush any longer, Dean steps closer. "What's going on, Cas?" he asks, troubled. "Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?"

Good question. The shift in command has been rather noticeable. "My superiors have begun to question my sympathies," Castiel bluntly admits. "I was getting too close to the humans in my charge. You." Dean looks slightly stunned by this admission as Castiel continues. "They feel I have begun to express emotions – doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgement."


Who told him all this, I wonder? Did he receive revelation himself, a directly delivered admonition instructing him to stand down in favour of Uriel's promotion? Or is this just another false revelation that Uriel has relayed, taking advantage of Castiel's absolute faith in his brethren, knowing that he would be too chastened by the reproach to argue or ask searching questions? For Castiel is right to doubt. He should trust his instincts when they warn him that all is not right, and yet all his training and experience – his very nature – tells him not to. And Uriel plays on that.

Castiel's explanation here is rather an important little statement, therefore, as by the end of the episode he will come to realise that rather than impairing his judgement, his emotions and doubts are in fact an important tool toward making informed judgement. That blindly following untenable orders without ever questioning their veracity is just another opening for evil to exploit. Doubt is an uncomfortable sensation, but it exists for a reason. It is a warning that something is not right. The greatest lesson Castiel can take from this episode is that he needs to learn to trust his own conscience – and take responsibility for the choices that he makes.

Dean stands in front of the door and stares at Alistair through the window. "Well tell Uriel, or whoever…" he falters. "They do not want me doing this, trust me."

"Want it? No," Castiel admits. "But I've been told we need it."

I've been told. The clues are all there. Castiel is working off information he has been given second-hand, but does not question its authenticity for a second. He knows that what he is asking is monstrous and yet he goes along with it because his devotion to duty is stronger than his conscience. Uriel knows that Castiel has this connection with Dean and is manipulating it to force the human into the trap he has set, because Dean will respond better to Castiel's compassion than to Uriel's intimidation. Dean trusts Castiel and Castiel trusts Uriel, and, as he uses and abuses that trust, Uriel is betraying them both.

With his back to the angel, who is anyway staring off into space because he can't face Dean, Dean's lip quivers and his eyes flood with unshed tears, because he knows he has no choice but to go through with this and the mere thought of it is devastatingly horrific. "You ask me to open that door and walk through it," he says, voice shaking, and I love that he's not just talking about the door he's standing in front of, but also one that's rather more metaphorical. "You will not like what walks back out."


"For what it's worth," Castiel replies, sympathetic but unmoving. "I would give anything not to have you do this."

That's the clincher. Uriel can bluster and threaten all he likes, but Castiel's sincerity is what really sells the necessity and hopelessness of this to Dean.

Dean closes his eyes, trying desperately to steel his nerve and shut away all the parts of him that are screaming in horror, which are effectively all the parts that make him Dean. To do this, he has to turn himself off and become what Alistair sought to make of him, down there in the seething furnaces of hell. And he is absolutely terrified that if he does that he will not be able to find his way back.

Later

Dean quietly pushes a trolley into the room where Alistair is imprisoned. The door swings shut behind him, cutting him off from the troubled Castiel, who remains out in the antechamber to wait and worry.

Dean moves slowly toward Alistair, head bowed, taking slow, measured paces. If he is going to do this, he has to do it properly, and that means he must commit himself to it 100%, no matter how horrific, must find a place within himself that is cold and professional and ruthless, untouchable. No half measures, because coming anywhere near getting Alistair to break is going to take everything he's got and more, and if he isn't going to give himself at least a fighting chance of success there's no point even trying. And he has no choice but to try, that much has been made very clear to him.

Hanging wearily from the Star of David, Alistair puffs out a little laugh and starts to sing, voice strengthening as he gets into it. "Heaven. I'm in heaven," he mockingly croons. "And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak. I seem to find the happiness I seek. When we're out together dancing cheek to cheek."

Sheesh. I will never look at Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers the same way again!


Ignoring the demon completely, Dean pulls the tarpaulin off his trolley to reveal the collection of impromptu torture devices that Uriel and Castiel have thoughtfully prepared for him. Alistair starts to laugh in earnest, but Dean carries on ignoring him, getting himself ready to go through with this.

"I'm sorry," Alistair chuckles. "I'm having… this is a very serious, very emotional situation. For you. I shouldn't laugh, it's just that…I mean. Are they serious? They sent you to torture me?"

Dean regards the demon impassively. Even though Alistair is bound and Dean is the one wielding the weaponry, Alistair has the upper hand, that much is already clear, because the demon spent the equivalent of forty years taking Dean apart, physically and mentally and in every other possible way, and knows him inside out. Therefore the first rule Dean must abide by here is simple: don't engage. "You've got one chance," he announces in carefully measured tones. "One. Tell me who's killing the angels. I want a name."

"You think I'll see all your scary toys and spill my guts?" Alistair mocks.

"Oh, you'll spill your guts one way or another," Dean promises him. "I just didn't want to ruin my shoes. Now answer the question."


Don't engage. Dean cannot afford to show any weakness, to react to any jibes flung his way, must remain clinically detached throughout. He has to maintain control over this session no matter how he feels or he has lost before he's even begun.

And that's the problem right there, because no matter how hard he tries, Dean is not in control here. He can't be. Not with the history between him and Alistair. He has been set up to fail right from the start.

"Or what? You'll work me over?" Alistair taunts. "But then, maybe you don't want to. Maybe you're scared to."

Dean doesn't want to. Oh, he so does not want to. But it has been made very clear to him that he has no choice. He keeps his game face firmly in place. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Not entirely," Alistair exults. "You left part of yourself back in the Pit. Let's see if we can get to tie you back together again, shall we?"

"You're going to be disappointed," Dean predicts, stepping back to the trolley to sort through his tools.

"Oh, you have not disappointed me so far," gloats Alistair. "Come on – you've got to want a little pay back for everything I did to you, for all the pokes and prods. No?" As Dean determinedly does not react, Alistair digs deeper, plays his trump card. "Then how about for all the things I did to your daddy."

Dean tenses and stills. First blood to the captive demon.


Motel

Sam opens the door to let Ruby in, and she barges past, grumbling about the stink of angels in the room. "Seriously, Sam, I'm not exactly dying to tangle with angels again."

Sam ignores her complaint and gets right down to business. "I need you to find out where they took Dean," he tells her. Whatever leads Ruby has been tracking, whatever excuse Sam offered for meeting her here, finding and retrieving his brother has now become the top priority.

Ruby lifts an eyebrow. "Not sure I see the problem. You know they have Alistair strung up six ways from Sunday? Dean cuts himself a slice, Al's reduced to a quivering heap and the good guys get the goods. What's wrong with that?"


Ruby is a demon and she views the world from a demonic perspective. If ever an example of that was needed, this is it. Everything is wrong with the scenario she just painted and yet all she sees are pluses: bloody vengeance and a win. Black and white. The ethical quagmire and destructive impact on Dean go right over her head. She isn't even pretending to empathise with the human perspective for Sam's sake any more, her softly, softly approach dissolving more and more every time we see her lately, now that she has Sam back on board with her plans and fully committed.

"He can't do it," Sam mutters, sounding deeply grieved. It sounds like he is anxious at the thought of what the angels are making his brother do because he is afraid of what it will do to Dean, knowing how much his memories of hell have been tearing him apart. Can't do it as in shouldn't do it, because it will damage him and he is already too badly damaged for Sam to cope with as it is.

Ruby certainly takes it that way. "Look, I get it, you don't want him going all torture-master again –" she dismissively begins.

"No, I mean he can't do it," Sam repeats, and we realise that he means that quite literally. Not can't do this because it will destroy him but can't do this as in incapable. It's not exactly a vote of confidence. "He can't get the job done. Something happened to him downstairs, Ruby. He's not what he used to be, he's not strong enough."


He's not what he used to be. He's not strong enough. It is the same sentiment that Sam spat at Dean under the siren's influence, the sentiment he has been denying ever since, the truth of that revelation now betrayed as he repeats it for Ruby's ears only. Sam is a mess of contradictions at the moment, his attitude toward his brother the greatest dichotomy of all. He loves Dean more than anyone in the world, cares about him and is concerned for him. Right now, with Dean having been abducted by angels, Sam's foremost concern is getting him back, preferably before anything bad – or rather, before anything worse – can happen to him. But shading and even overshadowing that care and concern is Sam's newly developed perception of his brother as weak and somehow less than he was. This is not necessarily a bad thing in itself – Dean has undeniably been struggling of late, and Sam is right to be anxious about that, to worry about what the failure he anticipates in this situation might do to his already damaged brother.

However, it is a source for concern that the prospect of the job not being completed successfully, because the angels picked Dean instead of him, seems to bother Sam more than the psychological damage the mere attempt is likely to do to his brother, reminding us how closed off and ruthless he has become of late. There is no suggestion here that he is censoring his thoughts on the matter for Ruby's sake. With her he can be more honest right now than with anyone else in the world, maybe even himself, and his emphasis here is all wrong. Not 'this is going to be bad for my brother and I have to get to him before any damage can be done', but 'this isn't going to work, he can't do it, it's pointless'. Not 'my brother is struggling, how can I help him get through it?' but 'my brother is struggling and it is inconvenient and irritating'.

In part, this is due to Sam's subconscious shutting out of his brother. Sam has been overwhelmed by guilt and pity for what Dean has been through, and simply cannot take any more, his compassion circuits overloaded and shorted out. It is unbearable for him to see his proud, confident brother so beaten down, not to mention that Dean's return from the dead has made Sam emotionally vulnerable again, and that scares him. And that's even before we remember that Sam has also been pushing Dean away to protect his secrets, unwilling to face the prospect of his brother being even more disappointed in him than he already is. The bottom line is that Sam has shut down emotionally, repressing his anxiety over Dean's slow collapse by focusing intently elsewhere. Right now, already unable to cope with Dean's escalating PTSD symptoms and depression, Sam simply can't face the thought of what this current situation might do to Dean, so he doesn't. Instead he channels his anxiety into anger at the angels for overlooking him in favour of his weaker brother, for not trusting him, for disregarding what he can do, because if only they had come to Sam for help instead, Dean might have been spared what is sure to be further trauma.

It is Sam's growing air of superiority that is most troubling, however, and it has shone through repeatedly in recent episodes, twisting his concern for Dean's vulnerability into something rather more akin to disdain. Sam cannot empathise with what Dean is going through, having no frame of reference, and he is not a natural caretaker. All Sam's life Dean has been strong and assured and he relied on that strength as much as he chafed against his brother's automatic authority, so that the role reversal now grates on him as much as his newfound leadership satisfies his ambition. Moreover, he is viewing his brother through the distorted lens of his own demonically enhanced power, against which Dean's frail and faltering mortal strength cannot compare. Unable to see past the damage Dean has suffered, Sam sees only fragility and vulnerability when he looks at his brother. Sam has become something different, more than human, while Dean has remained a broken version of who and what he always was. Dean is only human, too human, where human has come to equal weak. He's not strong enough.

"And you are?" Ruby smirks fondly.

Sam looks pensive. "I will be."


Ominous!

Torture chamber

"I had your Pop on my rack for close to a century," Alistair conversationally remarks. Dean, busying himself preparing for what he must do, angrily grunts that the demon can stall forever, trying not to rise to the bait even though Alistair has immediately struck a nerve that remains raw, even now. Knowing that he is onto a winner here, Alistair keeps on talking. "John Winchester. Made quite a name for himself. A hundred years. After each session I'd make him the same offer I made you: I'd put down my blade if he picked one up."

"Just give me a demon's name, Alistair," Dean demands, clamping down as hard as he can on his emotions and reactions. He slowly takes off his jacket, folds it, and tucks it away under the trolley – stalling, even as he is getting ready to begin.


Alistair ignores the question and carries on with his little story. "But he said nein, each and every time. I couldn't break him. Pulled out all the stops. But John, he was made of something unique. The stuff of heroes. And then came Dean. Dean Winchester. I was up against it, again. But, daddy's little girl, he broke. He broke in thirty."

Now, fandom has been rather divided over whether or not to believe what Alistair tells Dean about John, both here and later in the episode. Some believe every word, while others believe he is lying through his teeth. After all, demons lie…but they also tell the truth if it will mess with your head. Here, I tend to feel that this is a little of both. Alistair had Dean on his rack for the equivalent of decades and spent that time taking him apart in every imaginable way, physically and mentally. He knows Dean's every weakness. He knows what John was to his son.

Now, there can be no doubt that John Winchester was a complete and utter hardass. He was a domineering, powerful and strong-willed man who had spent the greater portion of his life pushing to his limits and beyond. He could endure more than most. In spite of all that, however, I find it impossible to believe that any human soul could endure a hundred years of Alistair's torture without breaking. In the mythology of the Supernatural universe, that's the whole point of hell. Every human soul that ends up there, whether rightfully or wrongfully, breaks in the end, and so begins the gradual conversion into a demon. No exceptions.

Moreover, we know from the events of All Hell Breaks Loose that when the devil's gate was opened for those few short moments, John's spirit was in a position where it was possible for him to fight his way free. If he had been strapped to Alistair's rack, bound there the entire duration of his time in hell, that escape would not have been possible. John Winchester might have been a legend in his own lifetime, but even he was only human, with very human limits to his abilities, strength and endurance.

John's soul would have been considered a special prize and no doubt came in for a lot of very special attention when he was dragged into hell. I don't doubt that Alistair encountered him there and, in his guise as hell's chief torturer, spent quality time with him. What I do very much doubt, however, is that John spent the whole of his time in hell receiving Alistair's special attention, or that he never broke.

That said, it doesn't really matter whether Alistair is telling the complete and unabridged truth or not. What matters is that Dean believes it. There can also be no doubt that Alistair would have used John against Dean before, many times, during those decades they spent together in hell. Dean has never believed that he was ever quite good enough, never believed he could live up to his father's standards or expectations for him, and his myriad deep-seated daddy issues would have provided the demon with endless rounds of ammunition with which to tear him apart, over and over. Alistair could have told him a hundred – a thousand – stories about his father, each one different, or each one just another variation on the same theme. It wouldn't matter. With no way to distinguish truth from lies, each barb would cut deep just the same.

So this here? So deliberately and callously mocking Dean with the notion that he is a weak and pale shadow of the great and powerful man his father was, playing on deep-seated insecurities he has harboured most of his life? It doesn't matter if it is true or not. Dean is going to believe it and be wounded by it, either way.


Dean opens a bottle of whisky and takes a long pull, steeling his nerve to do what he has to do, to not react to the taunting.

"Just not the man your daddy wanted you to be, huh, Dean?" Alistair mocks.

Dean puts down the bottle with a bang and slams a goblet down, also with a bang, his angry movements betraying how much the demon is getting to him, despite his best efforts.

"Now we're getting somewhere," Alistair exults, but then watches Dean pour holy water into the goblet and is disappointed. "Come on! Grasshopper, you're going to have to get creative to impress me."

Alistair's attitude toward Dean throughout this torture session is fascinating. He is a captive, securely restrained, and Dean is here to torture him for information. Alistair trained Dean and knows exactly what he created in him, knows everything Dean knows about torture. He knows that Dean can hurt him, and hurt him badly, even if he can't actually damage him. And on the one hand Alistair does what he can to sabotage the session, sniping and taunting and saying anything that will wound Dean and throw him off his game, partly to spare himself and partly because that's just what he is. He's made all varieties of torture into an art form and Dean was his favourite plaything for a long, long time. He knows that he can hurt Dean badly without ever laying a finger on him, and enjoys inflicting that kind of pain immensely. He broke Dean in hell and wants now to continue that work.

But on the other hand he eggs Dean on with the torture, goading and encouraging him, willing him to give it his all, even though he knows it will result in more pain for himself. The relationship between a torturer and his victim is very intense and very twisted, and now the roles have been reversed. This is what Alistair worked toward when he had Dean under his control; he was trying to create a monster, and unleashing that here is a victory, even if it results in torment for himself. He is a demon. He gets off on pain of all forms.

So really, by sending Dean in here, Castiel is in fact furthering this demon's work for him, and that may be one of the cruellest aspects of this whole scenario.

Dean looks at the demon, cold and hard and resolved. "You know something, Alistair? I could still dream. Even in hell. And over and over and over, you know what I dreamt? I dreamt of this moment. And believe me, I got a few ideas."

Alistair looks nervous for the first time as Dean assembles a hypodermic needle and draws holy water into it, from the goblet. He taught Dean everything he knows, and he knows that this is going to hurt.


Dean steps right up close to the captive demon, and his eyes are just dead. His fear and reluctance, horror and dread – they've all had to be turned off, locked away out of sight, so that he can tap into those dark places deep inside him that Alistair installed, to get angry enough to actually begin this. "Let's get started."

Antechamber

In the other room, Castiel waits and listens with great discomfort and distaste as Alistair starts to howl in agony, holy water injected right into his veins.

This is an excellent episode, tightly plotted, with intricate, complex character and plot development. It is disturbing to watch, but there are very few holes to pick at. One of those few holes, however, is the fact that an innocent man is being possessed by the demon, and that innocent man is now being tortured with him, but not once in the episode are we reminded of that fact. It's as if the writers were hoping if they kept quiet about it no one would notice or comment on the murky moral issues there. The man whose body Alistair is riding is a nameless nobody, treated as one and the same as the demon wearing his meat, despite the fact that the show has always made very clear that this is not the case.

Alistair is a very high level demon, one of Lilith's most trusted lieutenants. His capture was a victory for angelic forces and any information that can be gleaned from him under interrogation would be invaluable. Clearly it is felt that the life of the unfortunate individual whose meat the demon is currently wearing is an acceptable price to pay, the needs of the many outweighing the needs of the one. Just another piece of collateral damage falling along the wayside. Still, it would be nice if the episode acknowledged that loss of innocent life.

Anyway. It is clear that this is tearing Castiel apart. He knows it is wrong, abhorrent, and can only result in further damage to Dean, who was considered valuable enough to be raised from hell and therefore is presumably required by heaven in functional working order. The possible end does not justify the required means. Yet Castiel cannot see past the orders he has received. He is conditioned to absolute, unthinking obedience, to trust in the wisdom of his superiors above his own. So he represses his conscience, comforting himself that there is a righteous purpose to all this, even if he cannot see or comprehend it.


'God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work', said Dean, way back in season one. 'There's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission,' he added earlier this season. Both times his use of the word 'think' was crucial. If led astray by false teachings or beliefs, a man of faith can be deadly, his unswerving devotion to his cause working against him to result in terrible atrocities, all because he trusted external information sources above the warnings of his ethical code and conscience.

Castiel is a man of faith – an angel, moreover. Right now his conscience is screaming at him that what he has been called upon to do here is inconsistent with what he knows of the Father he serves. But his unswerving devotion to duty and orders, military discipline, will not allow him to act upon those doubts, and so he represses them rather than thinking them through or investigating further. It is a terrible mistake.

Torture chamber


Carefully striving to maintain his clinical distance, Dean sets the hypodermic down and turns back to Alistair. "Let me know if you want some more. There's plenty left."

"Go directly to hell," Alistair growls, undaunted by the pain. "Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars."

Motel

Ruby uses a candle to set fire to a map while chanting in Latin, eyes flashing demon black to remind us what she is. Within moments the entire map is ablaze. Sam looks worried, but Ruby tells him to relax. "The fire is our friend. Besides, the only part of the map we need is the 'where's Dean' part."

Fire out, just one small portion of the map remains unburned – and that would be the 'where's Dean' part. That's pretty cool.

"It's a good thing angels aren't concerned with hiding their dirty business," Ruby flirtatiously remarks. "Not used to being spied on, I mean – who'd be stupid enough to try?"


So, Sam now knows where Dean is. He knows that what the angels have ordered his brother to do has the potential to be enormously damaging, and therefore that time is of the essence. He needs to get there sooner rather than later if he wants to be of any actual aid to his brother, if this is to be about Dean. He should leave straight away, no delays.

But he doesn't. Instead, he looks pensive. "Ruby, it's been weeks," he rather anxiously says. "I need it."


I need it. That is a deeply disturbing phrase right there. Need. He sounds a little disgusted with himself but that doesn't stop him asking. Almost begging. I need it. Any junkie would use the same line for the fix they crave. We don't know yet what Sam is asking Ruby for, although all is about to be revealed, but we already know enough to realise that Sam is well and truly hooked.

"You don't seem too happy about it," Ruby pouts, stringing him along by not immediately acquiescing to the request, making him ask again, making him justify his need – reinforcing his dependence on her.

"You think I want to do this?" Slumping across the room, Sam drops heavily onto the bed. "This is the last thing I…. But I need to be strong enough."

I don't want to do it but I need it. After Sex and Violence aired, I was concerned to see fans casually describing Dean as an alcoholic, because although we have seen him drinking a few times this season there is nothing in his behaviour to indicate alcoholism, which is a chemical dependency, an addiction. In my recap for that episode, therefore, I highlighted a few typical signs of addiction to demonstrate that Dean is not an alcoholic.

Comparing Sam's recent behaviour to that list, however, is deeply disturbing: hearing him begging for this and using Dean's abduction to justify it, knowing that he has been hiding and lying about his developing habit for weeks if not months, despite the increasing strain this dishonesty has placed on his relationship with his brother. Perceived need prioritised above other considerations, no matter what damage it causes, and foremost in his mind even in the midst of an unrelated crisis. These secret activities with Ruby have been boosting Sam's power and he wants more, that's the bottom line here. Dean's abduction has provided him with the perfect excuse to ask for it, justifies the request to his own satisfaction, even though the delay could prove costly. Sam wants to be strong because Dean can't be, he claims, but that craving for more power than he already possesses has nothing to do with Dean; he already has sufficient resources to intervene and rescue his brother, but is not satisfied, is greedy for more. He is already strong, but he wants to be stronger. Dean is in danger, but Sam's reaction is all about Sam.


No question: Ruby has got Sam right where she wants him. Dependent. She doesn't have to wheedle and placate any more, doesn't have to offer – he asked her for it. Begged. He needs her, and that gives her power over him.

Ruby straddles Sam's lap and kisses him, and he responds willingly and greedily, and there's an ease and intimacy about them that says clearly their little fling way that we saw in flashback in I Know What You Did Last Summer was not a one-off. Ruby has been cultivating Sam for a long, long time now, grooming him, worming her way into every aspect of his life, little by little, and fostering his emotional attachment to her with every means at her disposal.


"It's okay," Ruby reassures. "It's okay, Sammy. You can have it."

Oh man. He's letting her call him Sammy, a name that was once reserved for Dean alone. That says it all. Those flashbacks in I Know What You Did Last Summer showed Ruby slowly but surely insinuating herself into Dean's place in Sam's life, and her use of that nickname demonstrates just how successful she has been. All season she has presented herself as benign and giving, facilitating Sam's needs, yet all the while she has been manipulating him masterfully.

Sam is looking more than a little aroused as he kisses Ruby again, passionate and forceful and still wasting valuable time, and then the demon pulls a knife out of her boot, uses it to slice a shallow cut along her arm. And Sam's eyes are alight with hunger as he watches intently. He might express reluctance, knows intellectually why this is so wrong, but he wants it.


There's an oblique parallel with Castiel there. Castiel knows in his gut that what he is doing is not right, but is repressing those qualms because his trust in his brethren and belief in following orders is stronger. Equally, Sam knows in his gut that what he is doing is not right, but is repressing those qualms because his lust for it is stronger than his doubts.

Sam got back into this because he believed it was necessary to win the war, his way of sacrificing himself for the greater good, just as his father and brother had sacrificed themselves before him. Now, though? How much of this is about sucking it up and doing what he feels has to be done to win and how much is about growing dependency, whether physical or psychological? Sam believed that the price he would have to pay for this power – Dean's trust in him being the first casualty – would be worth the eventual payoff, but how aware is he of other, more subtle and insidious demerits? How far out of his control has this already spun, maybe without him even realising it?

Almost quivering with desire, Sam grabs Ruby's arm and sucks on her blood, and it is all kinds of disturbing and grotesque and semi-vampirish. Except that a vampire could not ingest Ruby's blood because the body she inhabits is dead…and that fact makes the scene all the more disturbing.


This, then, is how Sam is boosting his psychic powers. Ingesting demon blood gave him those powers in the first place, just a few drops of it when he was an infant, so it makes sense that ingesting more demon blood would increase his powers. And yet it raises all kinds of questions. Azazel's chosen children were each fed a few drops of demon blood in their infancy, but the psychic powers this installed in them did not manifest for more than two decades – there has never been the slightest suggestion that any one of them showed any signs of psychic ability before that time. So does the demon have to do something to activate those powers? Can anyone drink demon blood and be imbued with demonic powers? Or was ingestion in infancy followed by those 20 years of incubation essential to install the potential for those powers? The blood presumably creates a link between the human and the demon, but how strong is that link and how much of a danger could it be to Sam in the future? Is it something Ruby can later use against him if he rebels against her, especially given the size and regularity of the doses he has been receiving?

Also, all of the special kids' powers started out small but then gradually grew stronger over time, without any further doses of demon blood to enhance them. The two most powerful of Azazel's special kids that we met back in season two were Ava and Jake, and neither one had anything like the power we have seen Sam wielding of late. But could they have developed this far eventually? Would Sam have got here by himself eventually? Or were additional doses of demon blood necessary to get to this level? How much power did Azazel require or desire his general to wield in order to keep the demonic troops in order, and how would he have provided and controlled it? It is fascinating to speculate.

We cannot know the answer to these questions. What is clear, however, is that Ruby has got Sam convinced that he needs the boost provided by her blood, and therefore dependent on her. The power she has given him is immense, but that dependence gives her control over him. She is turning him into a mighty weapon, and that weapon is at her disposal.

Ruby strokes Sam's hair as he drinks her blood, whispering sweet nothings in his ear, smirking a smirk of deep, dark triumph. She is a demon. Her motives cannot be trusted. And she's got Sam right where she wants him – under her control. It only remains to see where she will lead him next.


Torture chamber

Dean holds up Ruby's demon-killing knife, which he must have had about his person when he was abducted, and Alistair chuckles warily. "There's that little pig-poker. I wondered where it went." Dean silently pours holy water over the blade, while Alistair keeps on talking. "Do you really think this is going to fix you? Give you closure? Sad. That's really sad. Sad. Sad."


No, I don't think Dean does think this is going to fix him in any way or provide him with any closure, although he might hope that it will restore a little lost control over his life. He is doing this because he was made to, not because he relished or invited the prospect of revenge in any way – revenge has never been a motivating force for Dean the way it has been for his father and brother.

Despite that, however, disturbing and difficult to watch as these torture scenes are, it is important to remember that all the way through Dean is remembering Alistair doing all this and far, far worse to him. Not just for a few hours but for years – decades of unremitting agony that are seared into his brain for the rest of his restored life. And now he has the opportunity to give a little of that back to his tormentor.

Silent, Dean steps up close, blade in hand, and rams it hard into the demon's belly, muscle twitching in his cheek, dead eyes, giving himself over to his assigned task completely.

Alistair grunts and growls his pain. "I carved you into a new animal, Dean," he snarls between gasps. "There is no going back."


"Maybe you're right," Dean grates out, both determination and self-loathing written all over his face. The monster Alistair sought to make of him has been successfully locked away all season, but the terrible, terrible memories have not been so easy to contain. There is no going back. "But now it's my turn to carve." He pushes the knife in deeper, and Alistair howls…

…and the camera pans across the room to a water valve on the wall, which surreptitiously turns, just a little, all by itself. A bolt on an overhead pipe is similarly loosened, via a spot of telekinesis from an unseen someone, and the pipe begins to drip. It begins to drip right onto the edge of that special Enochian devil's trap, which Castiel assured Dean was impenetrable and unbreakable. With water now dripping onto it, slowly but surely the trap begins to wear away.

Sabotage!

Antechamber

In the other room, Castiel stands leaning on the table, head bowed, listening to the sounds of torture in the other room and hating it. He knows that this is wrong, but he has no experience of trusting his instincts over his orders and so does nothing.


The light starts to flicker, sparks flying, and Castiel casts a curious eye up at it. And then Anna is standing behind him, wearing the same body we met her in before, even though it should have been destroyed when she became a full-blown angel once more.

Castiel doesn't turn around; he can feel who is there. They greet one another evenly, and only then does Castiel turn to look at his fellow angel, gruffly asking about her human body. I'm glad he asked, because I was wondering!

"It was destroyed," Anna admits. "I know. But I guess I'm sentimental. Called in some old favours."

Favours from whom? Talk about a deus ex machina! Still, the fact that Anna was able to call on fellow angels for help re-creating her human body clearly indicates that she has friends and sympathisers among angelic ranks, even after her Fall, further evidence that angels are free-thinking individuals and that there are dissenters in the ranks, whether their individual modes of rebellion be major or minor.


From the other room, Alistair's howls and moans continue, and Castiel looks extremely disturbed to hear them, as well as for Anna to hear them. "You shouldn't be here," he tells her, back turned to her once more. "We still have orders to kill you."

"Somehow, I don't think you'll try," she replies, walking to stand in front of him, gazing fixedly at the door leading into the torture chamber as she asks where Uriel is. Castiel dully explains that his partner went to receive revelation.

Torture chamber

Alistair sags as Dean pulls the knife out of his gut, and chuckles, spitting out blood, as Dean firmly grasps his chin to look him in the eye. "It's your professionalism that I respect," the demon mocks.


That muscle in Dean's cheek is twitching again as he shoves away and strides back to his tools on the trolley. This isn't working. He's locking himself down so hard, but it isn't enough. He can't break the demon, and is starting to get frustrated.

Antechamber

"Why are you letting Dean do this?" Anna demands. It's the wrong question. It isn't a case of letting Dean do this. They are making him do it. He didn't want any part of this and was sent in there against his will.

Castiel's eyes slide away from Anna, deeply uncomfortable, and he fidgets. "He's doing God's work," the angel insists, but he has to turn away as he says it, unable to look Anna in the face.


"Torturing?" Anna disbelieves. "That's God's work? Stop him, Cas. Please. Before you ruin the one real weapon you have."

Everyone's calling Castiel 'Cas' today. It seemed to start out as Dean's little irreverence, but no, apparently it's his standard nickname used by all who know him!

Ruin the one real weapon you have. That's interesting phraseology. Interesting that she is describing Dean as a weapon – and evidently not because he learned a lot about torture while he was in hell. The angels pulled Dean out of hell for a reason, and although we do not yet know what that reason was, it is clear that they would not have gone to such enormous lengths if he were not of great value to them in some way. The one real weapon they have, according to Anna. A weapon whose value is too great to risk the kind of damage he is likely to suffer here today.

This could ruin him. They all know it, including Dean. Maybe Alistair knows who is killing angels and maybe he doesn't, but Dean should not be the one trying to extract that information from him. Anna can see that. Castiel can see it, too, but still he has his orders and those take precedence, even though they do not compute. Castiel clearly does not deal well with confusion. Someone higher up the chain than him gave the order, he believes, and he trusts them to know what they are doing – trusts that order to have derived initially from the will of God himself, whose righteousness is unfathomable and absolute. If in doubt, he clings to the bedrock of his faith and closes his eyes to all else, trusting that the Father he loves and serves has a purpose in all this, even if it is difficult or even impossible to discern right now. For as long as he doesn't ask questions, he can kid himself that whatever consequences arise are not his responsibility.

"Who are we to question the will of God?" Castiel asks, and he sounds both impatient and dogmatic, but he's asking the question of himself as much as Anna. He's been struggling with this question, internally, since coming to Dean with this order.


But is he asking the right question? "Unless," suggests Anna. "This isn't His will."

That's more like it – she's thinking along the right lines, and trying to steer Castiel in that direction, as well. Focused on riding out the disconnect between his orders and his conscience through faith in his Father, it has never once occurred to Castiel to question the origin of the orders he has received, or the trustworthiness of the person relaying them. As much as he has struggled to reconcile those orders with what he knows and believes of his Father above, his trust in his brethren is instinctual and absolute, as much an unconscious reflex as breathing is for a human – even though he knows that angels have rebelled in the past. God is distant and unknowable, works in mysterious ways, but Castiel's angelic brethren are tangible, part of his every day existence. He knows them. The idea that one of them might be a traitor sabotaging heaven's mission from within, whether deliberately or as a result of misunderstanding heaven's true intent, is incomprehensible to him. He doesn't seriously consider it even now Anna has planted the seeds of the notion in his head, sounds almost dismissive of the idea as he asks where the orders come from, then.

Anna doesn't know, but proposes one of their superiors as a likely suspect. One thing she is sure of is that God would not have ordered this.

Last time we saw Anna she reacted more like a frightened child than anything else. She had rebelled, and fled in terror from the consequences of that decision. Now, though, having returned to full angel status with the memories of her time as a human intact, she seems to have matured considerably, developing a more balanced outlook. Her counsel could be of great value to Castiel, if he could just bring himself to listen to it.

Torture chamber

Dean throws holy water in Alistair's face to revive him and the demon gargles up blood. Unmoved, eyes and face chillingly blank, Dean asks again who is murdering the angels, the question calm and patient to convey the notion that he is prepared to carry on like this for as long as it takes.

Antechamber

"The Father you love – you think he wants this?" Anna presses. "You think he'd ask this of you? You think this is righteous?"

Every actor in this episode seems to have stepped up their game a notch. You can really feel the history between these two characters – it's very nicely achieved, through the writing and acting, because we have never seen them alone together before. We know just enough about them to know that they do have a history together of some kind; Anna was once Castiel's superior, but that's about all we know. Yet without any more background information than that, their interaction crackles with the weight of shared history.

Anna steps closer. "What you're feeling," she tells Castiel. "It's called doubt."


Castiel knows about doubt. He once confessed feeling it to Dean and that confession deepened the bond between the angelic handler and his human charge. In the other room Alistair is howling with pain because Castiel sent Dean into that room, against his will, to face the creature that had spent forty years torturing him. Sent him into that room with the order to take what he learned during those forty years and turn it back upon the demon, in the probably vain hope of acquiring some information.

Angels are being murdered. Alistair may or may not know how or by whom. But even if he made a full confession, would it be worth the damage done here today, which could very well be irreparable? Does the end always justify the means?

Torture chamber

Dean throws more holy water into Alistair's face, the demon already gurgling and gasping.


Dean's eyes just look completely dead, like he really has turned himself off, shut down all the parts of him that are Dean in order to tap into the horrors he experienced in hell. And he told Castiel that he was afraid he wouldn't be able to find his way back if he did this.

Antechamber

Anna places her hand over Castiel's. "These orders," she tells him. "Are wrong. And you know it. But you can do the right thing. You're afraid, Cas. I was too. But together, we can –"

But she has pushed too hard, overstated her case before Castiel is ready, and it backfires on her.

"Together?" Castiel looks down at her hand, clasping his, and pulls away as if burned. "I am nothing like you," he growls, stalking away. "You Fell! Go."

He stands with his back to her, staring disconsolately at the door leading to the torture chamber. Stricken, Anna tries to reopen negotiations, but Castiel has made his mind up and is having none of it. He turns around once more to glower his fury, growling again for her to go.


Looking distraught at her failure, Anna leaves.

Left alone with Alistair's howls ringing in his ears, Castiel's resolve dissolves immediately and he hangs his head, torn between obedience and conscience.

Torture chamber

Alistair spits out a mouthful of holy water and blood. "You're just not getting deep enough," he tells Dean, who is trying really hard not to let his frustration show, because this isn't working and the longer it goes on the worse it is. "You lack the resources," the demon conversationally continues. "Reality is just…too concrete up here."

It's true. The demon might be wearing a corporeal body, but he is not a corporeal creature. The tools Dean has at his disposal are capable of hurting him, but they are not capable of damaging his essence. Alistair is one of the most powerful demons we have ever met, and he has spent his lifetime making torture into an art form. He relishes pain, gets off on it, even his own. The very worst Dean can do to him here is little more than a scratch to a creature like this.


Dean keeps his game face in place, pouring salt into what looks like an industrial-sized pastry bag.

"Honestly, Dean. You have no idea how bad it really was," Alistair remarks, and he's getting to Dean and he knows it. No matter how hard Dean tries to clamp down on it, the demon is getting to him. Dean is the one doing the torturing but Alistair can still get under his skin, even now, maybe especially now. Dean can hurt Alistair, superficially, but Alistair is the one with the power to do real damage. Add that to his comments about how creative it was possible to get in hell and we start to get a more vivid picture than ever of the horrors Dean endured down there, an infinity of possibilities opening up. Vague hints are always so much worse than graphic descriptions, because there is no limit to the imagination.

"Or what you really did for us," Alistair gloats. Dean tells him to shut up, unable to keep his reactions in check any longer, further proof to Alistair that he is succeeding, so he keeps rubbing it in, harder than ever, revelling in his ability to wound. "The whole, bloody thing, Dean – the reason Lilith wanted you there in the first place."

"Well, then, I'll just make you shut up," Dean grits, grabbing the demon's jaw and forcing his mouth open in order to pour salt straight down his throat.

Road

Sam drives through the night, wearing an expression of grim and implacable determination.


As he drives, the black of his pupils slowly expands to obscure the hazel irises of his eyes. Now that really is disturbing and scary. And creepy!

Torture chamber

Dean watches impassively as Alistair chokes, coughing up blood with the salt he just ingested. "Something caught in my throat," the demon gasps, foaming at the mouth. "I think it's my throat."

Ick, the imagery.


"Well, strap in," Dean says. "Cause I'm just starting to have fun."

He doesn't look as if he's having fun, though. Now that he has worked himself up to it, he does seem to have found a place where he can derive a kind of sick satisfaction from giving back to Alistair a little of what was done to him, but not once in this entire session do we get any impression that Dean would not end this the moment he thought he was allowed to.

You know, Dean was afraid that if he did this, if he tapped into the monster Alistair tried to create in him, he would not be able to come back from it. And he did look pretty far gone at one point, with frighteningly dead eyes. But that hasn't lasted. He couldn't keep it up – doesn't have it in him. He is still Dean, even after everything.

As Dean returns to his tray of instruments, Alistair starts talking again. And again, it is clear that Alistair is still in charge here. All Dean can do is hurt him physically, in his borrowed body, but Alistair is the grand inquisitor of hell, knows pain intimately and can't be killed by any of these means – nothing Dean does here can damage his demonic essence, however painful it is. But Alistair, in turn, knows that he doesn't need instruments to hurt Dean, knows that he can inflict immense damage with words alone – and after having Dean on his rack for so many years he knows exactly which words to use for maximum effect.

"It was supposed to be your father," the demon conversationally remarks. "He was supposed to bring it on. But in the end, it was you."

"Bring what on?" Dean absent-mindedly asks as he washes blood off Ruby's knife with holy water, not the slightest bit prepared for what the demon is about to say because he isn't even really paying attention, is just expecting more of the same of what he's already heard tonight, more mocking and taunting that he has already steeled himself against. But Alistair knows him inside out and knows exactly where to stick the knife.

"Oh, every night, the same offer, remember?" Alistair reminds him, as Dean starts pouring salt over the blade. "The same as your father. And finally you said 'sign me up'. Oh, the first time you picked up my razor." Dean stills as the demon's words sink in and he starts to realise that this is going to be bad, slowly turns to face Alistair as he gloats: "The first time you sliced into that weeping bitch – that was the first Seal."

Dean's face has frozen into a blank mask, but the creeping realisation of what the demon is saying slowly filters through those defences to become visible. He steps closer, struggling to gather his bravado around him once more as the shock and horror of it sets in. "You're lying."

Alistair stares him right in the eye as he maliciously, gleefully quotes: "And it is written that the first Seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks, so shall it break."

Dean broke the first Seal and therefore started the Apocalypse. As if he didn't already have the weight of the world on his shoulders. I…hardly even know where to begin with this revelation!


I will start with Alistair's claim that John was intended to be the first Seal, but since he allegedly was too strong for hell to break, their plans switched to Dean instead. I don't know what the writers intend us to make of this, but I do not believe a word of it. For one thing, as already discussed, I find it hard to believe that anyone, even John Winchester, could withstand the tortures of hell for almost a century and not break. Moreover, the notion that John was intended to be the first Seal and the start of Lilith's plan to free Lucifer is simply not plausible, given the history and timeline of the show.

What we know of demons, hell and crossroads deals makes clear that neither John nor Dean could have been the first basically good man to end up in hell – Evan Hudson of Crossroad Blues, for example, might easily have qualified, if Dean had not managed to save him from the consequences of the deal he had made to save his wife's life. There must have been countless others over the centuries. So what makes John or Dean any more righteous than any other fool who sold his soul to a demon for the sake of a loved one? Every human soul to end up in hell eventually breaks and becomes a demon, and agreeing to torture others makes a perfect first stepping stone in that process, so any one of those basically good men could have broken that Seal. What was different this time?

I would argue that timing was crucial – and is one of the reasons Alistair must be lying about John. Lilith's plot to free Lucifer from hell is an enormous undertaking, sure, one she must have been planning for a very long time…or at least, something she must have wanted to do for a very long time. There is no evidence, however, that her plan was anything more than wishful thinking until long after the devil's gate was opened, thus freeing her from hell. Her control over the crossroads demons means that she has long been ideally placed to lure a 'righteous' man into hell so that the first Seal could be broken, thus starting the whole thing – maybe even why she attained that control in the first place. But if any righteous man would do she could have started decades or even centuries ago. The world would have ended by now. There has to be more to it than that.

Any righteous man would not do, then – it had to be the right man at the right time. And John Winchester could not have been that man. Whether or not Dean could be considered any more righteous than anyone else to end up in hell, his father included, we can only speculate, having too little information on the requirements to judge. Either way, all the evidence and timing are against John having factored into Lilith's plans in any way.

John made his deal directly with Azazel, not with one of Lilith's crossroads demons, so that it was Azazel's remit he would have fallen under during his 10 month (or near century) stint in hell, rather than Lilith's, although that alone would not necessarily have prevented Lilith making use of him. Moreover, he made and paid for his deal at a time when Lilith herself was still in hell, when Azazel was the demon making all the grand plans, other demons falling into line behind him. We still don't know what Azazel's game plan was, all that intricate footwork making deals to seed psychic children, but it certainly does not appear to have involved breaking Seals or attempting to free Lucifer. Not all demons are believers. Lilith's utter rejection of Azazel's chosen champion Sam, viewing him as opposition in her quest for leadership of the demon army, is ample evidence of the fact that she is not pursuing the same aims as Azazel. The angels still don't know what Azazel was planning, but are very aware of Lilith's aims.

What is more, the crossroads demon Dean met with in Crossroad Blues was more than willing to trade John for Dean on a standard ten-year deal. If Lilith or Azazel or anyone had been working John over in hopes of breaking that first Seal, that deal would not have been offered. After all, we saw in flashback in I Know What You Did Last Summer that when Sam tried to trade himself for Dean the deal was refused outright. Because Dean was the righteous man already on his way to breaking and therefore letting him go was out of the question – as it would have been for John, if he had been in that position. Equally, if anyone had realised at that point that Dean himself was a potential Seal-breaker, if that plan had been in any way in motion at that stage, the deal offered to Dean would not have been the full ten years – a millennia down in hell. They'd have wanted him down there as soon as possible. So no, it is very clear that the breaking of the Seal was not on the cards during John's sojourn in hell.

Lilith appears to be a higher level demon than Azazel, but he was the one behind whom demonkind was united, until his death. 'Azazel was a tyrant, but he held us all together,' said demon Casey back in Sin City, continuing that only after Dean killed him did it all fell apart. We don't know much about the ability of demons to move between this world and hell, but I would suggest that until the devil's gate was opened Lilith was, for whatever reason, unable to escape from hell and therefore unable to impose her dominance over other demons. It wasn't until midway through season three that we first learned of her as a new demon leader behind which a large body of support was starting to form, in the power vacuum left behind by Azazel. Therefore clearly, she was in no position to make use of John's presence in hell as, potentially, the righteous man of prophecy until long after he had already escaped. After all, what would be the point of starting the Seal-breaking process unless she was in a position to finish it?

Once Lilith was free of hell, however, with John's spirit long gone but Dean's deal already made and his soul forfeit at the end of the year, the next righteous man expected in hell, then she was finally in a position to start turning her no-doubt long held dream of raising Lucifer into an actual game plan. Any deals made by her crossroads demon prior to that point, including Dean's deal for Sam, would have just been standard deals governed by the whim of each individual demon. Lilith was the boss they reported to, but the fine detail of individual deals was unimportant to her…until she was free and started gathering support, the opening of the devil's gate and demise of Azazel having fortuitously provided her with a ready-made army. That is the point at which she must have realised the significance of the deal Dean had made, the chance she had been dreaming of for so long. This unique confluence of circumstances could not have been anticipated or predicted in any way, and must have felt to her like fate, as if it was meant to be. She is a believer.

It is likely, perhaps, that specific circumstances had to be exactly right for the breaking of the Seal, since righteous men had been broken in hell before without the Seal breaking with them. Presumably Lilith charged Alistair with creating those circumstances, now that the time was right for her campaign to begin, maybe involving some kind of ritual Dean wasn't even aware of, so that the breaking of his soul could be used to break the seal. Or was Dean himself righteous in some special way that marked him out as The One, the timing merely coincidental, another factor working in Lilith's favour? We don't know for sure.

What is clear is that Lilith's plan, having escaped through the devil's gate, centred around getting Dean into hell when his deal came due – or earlier, if he managed to get himself killed ahead of schedule – and using him, specifically, to kickstart the Apocalypse. John can have had no part to play in those plans at all, given the timings involved. He features here only because Alistair knows Dean so well and knows how crippling it will be for him to be held up against his father in this way and found wanting, with John presented as the hero who resisted and thus prevented the Apocalypse and Dean as the weakling who broke and thus damned the entire world. It is Alistair's way of twisting the knife in the wound still further.

The words slowly sink in, Dean trying desperately to hang on to his composure and not allow any reaction to show, trying desperately not to believe what he was just told, but this was a knife blow to the gut, a knock-out punch, just like Alistair knew it would be, and he has to turn away, get some distance between them.


"We had to break the first Seal before any others," Alistair gloats, watching Dean as he struggles to hold himself together. "Only way to get the dominos to fall, right?"

The camera stays with Dean, his back to the demon, an intense close up of his utterly shattered profile as the devastating implications sink in.

"When we win," Alistair mocks. "When we bring on the Apocalypse and burn this earth down – we'll owe it all to you, Dean Winchester."

Dean Winchester: unwitting agent of the Apocalypse. The enormity of this revelation and its impact on Dean cannot be overstated. He has been burdened by responsibility and guilt most of his life and already felt crushed by the weight of expectation upon him and vast scale of the task ahead, by the lives stacking up along the road to the Apocalypse, which be believes cannot be prevented. And now he learns that he was used to start it all in the first place, that the sacrifice he made for his brother's sake – which Sam has in many ways already thrown back in his face – has been so grossly perverted for the cause of evil, that he is responsible for the end of the world. Has been made to believe that he could have prevented it all if only he had resisted Alistair's brutal and unremitting torture, made to believe that resisting was possible, if only he had been strong enough.

The words don't exist to describe how utterly, overwhelmingly, brutally devastating this is, this new and impossibly heavy blow striking hard at an already badly damaged psyche. Anna told Castiel that keeping Dean in here had the potential to ruin him, and this is it: the moment of destruction. Never mind the straw that breaks the camel's back – this is a battering ram to break the camel's back.

Dean keeps his back to the demon, eyes closed, spirit shattered.


"Believe me, son," Alistair taunts. "I wouldn't lie about this." With Dean's back still turned to him, the demon casts his eyes about the room – and notices the leaking pipe, a section of the chalk line beneath now completely worn away. "It's kind of a religious sort of thing with me," he continues, voice tailing off just slightly as he is distracted by the realisation that the trap containing him is broken.

Dean keeps his back turned. "No," he whispers. "I don't think you are lying." He nods to himself, accepting the immense weight of that guilt as if he should never have expected any better. "But even if the demons do win." He sets his resolve, looking down at the bloody knife in his hand and making a decision. "You won't be there to see it."

Dean turns, ready now to kill this demon instead of interrogating further, angelic murders or no angelic murders, to put an end to the source of the greatest suffering he has ever known …

…but Alistair is no longer tied to the Star of David. He is free, unhindered by any injuries suffered during the torture session, because Dean had the resources to hurt but not to damage him and the distinction there is crucial. And he is standing right in front of Dean, who is completely and utterly defenceless.


"You should talk to your plumber about the pipes," Alistair mocks, taking Dean down with one heavy blow.

Later

Within a few no doubt very long and painful minutes, Alistair has reduced Dean to a bloody pulp, gasping and wheezing as the demon continues to pound away at him mercilessly. He collapses to the floor as Alistair finally drops him, only to be grabbed by the throat and dragged across the room. Alistair slams his back against the Star of David and lifts him up into the air by the throat, feet dangling.

We've seen people throttled on this show many times before, usually Sam, in the early seasons especially. But we have never before seen such a graphic depiction of strangulation, Dean struggling to breathe, choking, wheezing, changing colour, his eyes rolling horribly as his windpipe is crushed, and damn, his eyes are rolling in different directions even. It looks horrible. It looks very real. He is dying.


"You're got a lot to learn, boy," Alistair exults. "So I'll see you back in class, bright and early, Monday morning."

Meaning that Alistair expects Dean to go straight back to hell when he is dead, which is imminent, intends to pick up right where they left off when Castiel pulled him out, and draws great satisfaction from that notion.

But then, right at the last, Alistair senses movement behind him. Dropping Dean, he spins around just in time for Castiel to plunge Ruby's demon-killing knife into his chest.

Just how long was Alistair brutalizing Dean before Castiel finally realised something was wrong, I wonder? How closely was he paying attention to the torture session he'd facilitated but could not bear to face up to?

Released, Dean collapses to the floor as Alistair shoves Castiel away from him. For a second time that demon-killing knife has failed to kill this particular demon.

"Oh, almost," Alistair appraisingly observes, looking at the knife sticking out of his shoulder, crackling with power yet not a kill. He smirks. "Looks like God is on my side today."

Undaunted, Castiel holds out a hand and twists, telekinetically twisting the knife in the wound. Ick! It hurts Alistair, but still doesn't kill him, because what Castiel should have done there was try to drag it down and through to the heart, as gruesome as that would have been. As it is, Alistair just pulls the knife out, drops it to the floor and charges at Castiel.


On the ground, unheeded by either combatant, Dean lies unconscious and bloody, perhaps barely even breathing.


Hand-to-hand fighting ensues. Last time we saw Castiel attempt this we soon realised that he sucked at it. Well, that's still true. Alistair gains the upper hand very swiftly. It is clearer than ever that none of those very physical tools Dean was provided with could come close to damaging the demon's demonic essence. Dean was set up to fail from the start. Alistair has been tortured, and it hurt at the time, but he is an old, old hand at controlling and mastering pain, and now that he is free is as strong as he ever was.

The angel and the demon exchange blows back and forth for a while, and then Alistair rushes at Castiel, shoving him backward…right onto a meat hook of some kind on a nearby pillar. The angel looks shocked as he is impaled, slumping on the hook so that it drags horribly through the flesh of his back. His host body's back, rather. Castiel doesn't look to be in any actual pain; this is not his body, after all. This can't kill or even really injure him, but it does restrict and successfully trap him. He knows that he is beaten – Alistair defeated him last time they tangled, as well.

I don't have much evidence to support the theory, but I still suspect that while demons are more powerful if they channel their essence through a human body, using a host body, in contrast, restricts angels. Containing themselves within physical vessels seems to impose limitations on their access to their full angelic power, exposure to which is so destructive to humans.

Castiel is defeated. Dean is down, condition unknown. Alistair is victorious. And Castiel could have prevented it all if he had listened to Anna, listened to his own conscience, and ended this sooner – or not allowed it to happen at all.

"Like roaches, you celestials," Alistair grumbles, holding Castiel in place by the throat as the angel ineffectually bats at his hands – pinned but not strangled, because the body he is wearing is not his own. "I really wish I knew how to kill you. But all I can do is send you back to heaven."

The demon starts to chant a Latin invocation, and Castiel goes limp, white light flooding his eyes and mouth as the angel begins to be pulled out of his human host…


But Alistair suddenly falls silent, the words sticking in his throat as he is flung back away from Castiel and pinned to a nearby wall.

Sam.

Released, Castiel slides to the ground, limp and useless – that spike slicing nastily through the flesh (and clothes) of his host body, en route. As the angel struggles to pick himself back up, Sam's presence dominates the room, hand outstretched, holding Alistair in place. "Who's murdering the angels? How are they doing it?" he demands.


He doesn't so much as glance sideways at Dean to reassure himself – or not – that his brother is even still alive. Did he come here to rescue Dean? Or did he come here to prove that he can achieve what Dean was unable to, what Dean should never have had to attempt in the first place, to demonstrate to the angels that they should have come to him for help and left his brother alone, instead of overlooking him and disapproving of him? Either way, his focus on the demon is absolute now that he is here. He hasn't come to pull Dean out, but to complete the interrogation, because he can.

It's not the Sam we once knew. The old Sam might have set his resolve and tried to finish the job, for the sake of preventing further murders – but he'd have wanted to check on his brother, as well. He'd have been desperate with concern at seeing him so beaten and brutalized. This Sam doesn't even seem to notice that Dean is in the room, never mind that he is lying in a bloody heap on the floor. He's on a high, compassion all shorted out, and task-focus absolute.

Castiel casts wary, marvelling eyes at Sam. He has never seen him in action before. It would never have occurred to him to ask for Sam's help with this, both because Sam's power is forbidden and because that wasn't the order.

"You think I'm going to tell you?" Alistair chuckles.

"Yeah. I do," Sam retorts, supremely confident and assured, in control of this situation in a way that Dean never was, because sending Dean in here to face his former torturer was wrong on every level.

Sam turns his wrist, reaching out with his psychic power, and the host's eyes roll back in his head to reveal the demon-white of Alistair, who chokes and gabbles frantically. Dean was able to hurt the demon without ever being able to damage him, but Sam has resources at his disposal that Dean did not, resources that can reach deep and strike right at the heart, the essence of the demon. Using that ability is dangerous, however; it's a trade-off. The warnings Sam has been given might have been vague – and put him very much on the defensive, leaving him isolated, frustrated and angry – but the escalating impact on his personality and outlook makes it increasingly clear just how dark the path is that he is heading down and how valid those concerns were. How far along this path can he travel and still remain in control, still find his way back? Will the ends ultimately justify the means? Can the eventual result be worth the price paid?


"How are the demons killing angels?" Sam bellows.

Clenched tight in Sam's non-physical grasp, Alistair painfully chokes out that he doesn't know. Unwilling to believe this, Sam clenches his fist tighter, dragging out a few more unwilling words. "It's. Not. Us. Not. Doing. It."

Castiel gazes at Sam, wide-eyed with amazement. Sam's power is forbidden, but Sam is using it to do what the angels wanted and were unable to achieve themselves: extract information from this demon. The rights and wrongs of this situation are beyond the angel's comprehension just now, his mind whirling with how quickly things have spun out of control.

"I don't believe you," says Sam, increasing the psychic pressure he is applying to the demon. Oh man, look at his face. He's enjoying this; in a way that Dean never enjoyed what he did to Alistair even when he claimed he did. Sam enjoys the power that he wields. He is exulting in it. This demon tortured his brother and being able to punish him for that feels good. Sam has always had a vengeful temper. But this is more than that. Exacting revenge is a thrill, but the sheer rush of wielding such power is even more so.


"Lilith is not behind this," Alistair chokes, and Castiel looks devastated at the thought that it might not be a demon killing his brethren – confirmation that this entire exercise was futile. "She wouldn't kill seven angels. She'd kill a hundred – a thousand."

Satisfied, Sam lets go and Alistair gasps for breath. "Oh, go ahead, send me back," he wearily grumbles. "If you can."

"I'm stronger than that now," says Sam, eyes aglow – drunk on power, by the looks of him. It is intoxicating, and that is not a good thing. "Now I can kill," he announces, all lit up with vengeful and ruthless satisfaction. Castiel's head snaps around to stare at him, shocked, appalled…and a little awestruck. He really doesn't know what Sam is.


Sam holds up a hand, palm flat, and closes his eyes as if in supplication. There is no sign whatsoever of effort or strain. He can kill now, and this very new ability comes easily to him. Too easily. Alistair cries out and struggles and Sam opens his eyes again to watch the demon die, eyes that are every bit as dead as Dean's were earlier, expression grim and implacable.

Sam has wanted revenge for what happened to Dean for a long time now. Lilith is still out of reach, but Alistair will do. Yet he still hasn't so much as glanced sideways at his fallen brother even once since he entered the room. He wanted more power and now he can kill demons with his mind, has turned himself into a living Colt, effectively. But if he had left straight away instead of taking time out for the power boost, he might perhaps have been able to get here in time to prevent Dean's near-fatal injury, which he hasn't even noticed yet. It's about priorities, and Sam's are no longer as clear-cut as they could be.

Sam has always tended toward tunnel-vision when he sets his mind to something, but that trait has never before felt quite so disquieting, although it is debatable whether this personality trait has been amplified by the demon blood or simply by Sam's despair. Maybe both, feeding off one another. Which came first, the chicken or the egg?

Earlier we watched Dean struggling to turn part of himself off in order to go through with his assigned task. Here, Sam also seems to have turned part of himself off to achieve what he felt he had to achieve, but through choice more than necessity and with no internal struggle evident whatsoever. Dean was afraid that if he did this he might not be able to find his way back. How long before Sam reaches that point of no return without even noticing?

Somewhere deep inside the body of the oh-so unfortunate host, the demon implodes in a crackle of energy and expires as completely as if shot with the long-lost Colt – the effects of which are carefully replicated, and not by chance. Mouth wide open, eyes wide and staring, face a rictus of horror, the host body crumples to the floor, also dead.


Sam lets out a deep breath, eyes fixed on the corpse wearing an expression of deep, dark satisfaction. He likes what he can do. It feels good. And he still does not look to see if his brother is even still alive, maybe can't face that just yet, instead flicking only slightly uncertain side eyes toward Castiel to see the angel's reaction, which mostly revolves around shock. There is both pride and defiance in Sam's face, because he has been warned not to use his powers, but he is glad that he did this and that Castiel saw what he can do, proud that he succeeded where Dean failed – although Dean failed not because he didn't have the courage or strength to do the job, as Sam believed, but because he did not possess the unnatural resources at Sam's disposal.

Sam wanted to prove to the angels that they should not have taken Dean and made him do this alone, or at all. He is angry that they took Dean and made him do this when he is so vulnerable, not up to it in Sam's estimation, while ignoring Sam, who could have done the job for them with no trouble at all and saved everyone a lot of pain and effort, if only they would accept his abilities. He has felt isolated and misunderstood over his use of his powers for a long time, and Pamela's warning at the end of the last episode must have set him even more on the defensive than ever. He has long been determined to prove that he can take the power given to him by a demon and use it to achieve something good, and saw this as an ideal opportunity to demonstrate his perceived success, to try to convince the angels that they can and should trust him. And part of that is genuine concern that he should be allowed to take a little of the strain from his brother, especially while Dean is struggling, but part of it is piqued pride and that growing sense of superiority, the two overlapping and intermingling until Sam himself cannot tell the difference. He has certainly made his point, but that point is all about Sam, whereas this situation should have been all about Dean.

And as for what Sam's power is doing to him…that's another issue entirely.

Hospital

Evidently either Sam or Castiel or both finally remembered that Dean was also in the room and gravely injured, for he is now in hospital, still comatose, battered and bruised, with a tube down his throat to aid his breathing and electrodes taped to his head.

This is the third time now that Dean has been hospitalised in the course of the show and his second stint on life support. Sam, in contrast, has had no hospital stays at all.


Sam is at his brother's side, and if only Dean were conscious to see it, he might actually recognise the brother before him. Gone is the powerful man who swept into that torture chamber and dominated it utterly, the man capable of killing demons with the power of his mind. In his place is a frightened little brother confronted with the awful prospect of losing his big brother all over again, because he got there too late and he can kill demons with his mind but he can't fix Dean. No matter how much power Ruby gives him there is still nothing he can do to help his brother, and he just does not know where to turn.

Castiel drifts into the doorway and looks in on the brothers, just for a moment. Sam glances up, his face the picture of misery and fear, but the moment he registers the angel's presence his expression hardens. Castiel instantly ducks away, but he doesn't go far – he knows Sam is coming after him. He's just taking the inevitable confrontation away from Dean's bedside, for which I have to give him props. And maybe he also knows that he has no place at Dean's bedside, having been the agent of his near-fatal injury, even if he still doesn't understand how it all came about.

Also, all trace of Castiel's injuries have now vanished, as if by magic, along with the damage to his outfit, which looks pristine once more. Another very handy skill, that!

"Get in there and heal him," Sam demands as he charges after the angel, the almost-tearful tremor to his voice only slightly impinging on the note of command he strikes. "Miracle. Now!" he insists, temper flaring.


Wow. Listen to Sam there firing orders at an angel and then compare that attitude to the awe he used to feel for them. He is not afraid of or intimidated by Castiel at all any more, blazing with righteous fury – and I use the word righteous advisedly there.

We are not told the precise nature of Dean's injuries, or what his prognosis is. The presence of that breathing tube tells its own story, however, and we must remember that the last two times he ended up in hospital it took a miracle to save his life, and that since then he has died and gone to hell. Whatever diagnosis his doctor may or may not have given, Sam's paranoia here is entirely justified, as is his fervent desire for Castiel to make amends, Sam's anger over Dean's condition standing as clear evidence of his deep love and concern for his brother. You broke him: you fix him.

Even so, it is breathtaking to compare Sam's attitude here with the wonder and admiration of angels he once felt, even after he knew they disapproved of him. We have watched this particular downward spiral all season, seen Sam's faith and respect for the angels whittled away a piece at a time. Familiarity breeds contempt…but then again, so do pride and arrogance. Whatever the rights and wrongs of angelic actions in this episode, it would still behove Sam to be wary. Castiel's might and ability to smite deserve respect, even if his recent flawed decision-making does not. Sam has flouted his fast-growing power right in front of this angel, despite having already received repeated warnings not to use those abilities. But between his anger over what happened to Dean and growing superiority complex, he is past caring about any of that, maybe even confidently presumes that he would be able to successfully defend himself if necessary.

"I can't," protests Castiel. Why not, I wonder? Is he not allowed to go around performing miracles willy nilly? Or is that just another of his powers that is restricted due to being contained within a human vessel?

"You and Uriel put him in there," Sam spits at the angel, just about managing to keep his voice down so as not to draw unwanted attention.


Castiel's eyes go wide with dismay. "No –" he protests, the accusation hitting hard. This is an important moment for Castiel, the moment all his doubts and suspicions and background guilt coalesce into full comprehension of his personal culpability. He can claim that he was just following orders all he likes, but the fact is that he made a choice and it was the wrong one. And now he has no one to hide behind, but instead must face up to the consequences.

"Because you can't keep a simple devil's trap together," Sam finishes, simmering with rage. The angels abducted Dean and sent him into that room against his will, knowing what it would do to him. He was completely defenceless against the demon, completely reliant on the trap Castiel had used to contain Alistair, and it failed. Yep, this one is on Castiel, and Sam's anger is entirely justified.

"I don't know what happened," Castiel hotly defends, his confusion over the sequence of events very genuine. "That trap…it shouldn't have broken. I am sorry."

An angel of the Lord apologising to the boy with demon blood, and after Sam flouted his forbidden powers right in front of him, as well. It is a very sincere apology, moreover. Castiel still doesn't understand what happened, but one thing he does know for sure is that he made that trap himself, it broke, and as a result Dean almost died.

"This whole thing. Was pointless," Sam rages. "You understand that? The demons aren't doing the hits. Something else is killing your soldiers."

Castiel looks rather as if the bottom has dropped out of his world. He does not understand what is going on and does not know what to think. And he is not used to uncertainty. "Perhaps Alistair was lying," he suggests.

"No. He wasn't," Sam firmly states. He is very definite about that.

Castiel stares at him, desperately worried by the implications of that simple truth. Having made his point, Sam whirls around and marches back to keep vigil at his brother's bedside, leaving the troubled angel to work things out for himself.


Castiel stares after Sam, stunned, his eyes dropping to the floor as he weighs up the evidence and finally starts to think for himself.

Park. Day

Uriel sits on a bench at the edge of a deserted, snow-bound children's playground, hands folded in his lap, eyes closed in supplication.

Without opening his eyes, he knows that Castiel has found him, and turns to see his troubled brother-angel. "Castiel, I received revelation from our superiors," he announces.

I like that he says these orders are from their superiors, fellow angels, rather than from God. It reinforces the seeds of doubt he is planting in his partner's head about their diluted chain of command, as well as reinforcing the image of God as an absentee Father and commander-in-chief.

"Our brothers and sister are dying," Uriel passionately continues. "And they – they want us to stop hunting the demon responsible!"

So, first Uriel relayed the message that Angel Command wanted Alistair tortured by Dean Winchester, as their most qualified interrogator, in order to find the culprit responsible for the recent murders, and now he reverses that claim completely, implying that they are embarrassed by this disaster and want to just brush it under the carpet. It makes High Command appear fickle and irresponsible, untrustworthy, and moves Uriel's campaign forward a few paces, provides him with solid material to rail against in his attempt to convince Castiel to defect with him.

Castiel sits down alongside the other angel, looking pensive.


"Something is wrong up there," Uriel worriedly moans, casting his eyes heavenward. "I mean, can you feel it?"

"The murders – maybe they aren't demonic," Castiel cautiously suggests, still not knowing quite what to believe, but reluctant now to just take Uriel's word at face value. There is too much about this situation that doesn't make sense, and finally Castiel has realised that he must proceed with caution and think for himself, instead of just following like a sheep. He might not know exactly who is at fault here, not for sure, but he knows that he should be suspicious of someone. "Sam Winchester said the demons had nothing to do with it."

"If not the demons, what could it be?" protests Uriel. It's curious that he doesn't protest against Sam having made that statement – you'd expect him to be all over that one, arguing that Sam Winchester, the boy with demon blood, is in cahoots with a demon and cannot be trusted. Then again, he could be too caught up in grief to react. He's playing it pretty cleverly.

Castiel looks alarmed. "The will of heaven," he concludes. "We are failing, Uriel. We are losing the war. Perhaps the garrison is being punished."

Bless him, he's so naïve in so many ways, too accustomed to thinking rigidly, black and white. Does he really think that if the garrison was being punished for failure they would be bumped off slowly, one by one, in secret? Presumably not, if he was thinking clearly, but he just doesn't know what to think right now. Everything that seemed certain is starting to crumble, and Castiel is crumbling with it.

"You think our Father would –?" Uriel begins.

"I think our Father isn't giving the orders any more," Castiel sadly states. "Maybe there is something wrong."

Something is wrong. The orders Castiel is receiving of late do not compute. He has been struggling to reconcile them with the Father he loves and serves and so in that sense transferring his doubt to fellow angels is a relief…but then again, it also opens up a whole new can of worms. If God is not giving the orders any more, why not? If the wrong orders are being transmitted and an angel is responsible, how does he tell which one? And why would the wrong orders come through in the first place? Because someone along the chain of command has misunderstood the will and teachings of their unseen Father? Or because someone along the chain of command is deliberately sabotaging their efforts to prevent the Apocalypse?

Accustomed as he is to rigid military discipline, Castiel's first assumption is that his orders are being intercepted and tampered with right at the top of the chain, by some unknown superior almost as distant as God himself – far easier to assign blame to such a faceless unknown quantity than to suspect anyone he has known personally and fought alongside throughout his existence. But still, deep down in his gut he has to realise that Uriel is right at the heart of everything that seems to be going so badly wrong, that every one of the orders he has found so disturbing has been relayed through his partner rather than received directly by himself. He just can't, yet, admit to that doubt.

Uriel stands. "Well, I won't wait to be gutted," he decides, and with a flutter of unseen wings he is gone.

Left alone, Castiel sits and frets.

Night

That night, Castiel finds a random location to stand and call for Anna. This is where the history between these two characters really comes into its own to drive home the profundity of Castiel's crisis. Anna was once Castiel's superior, but she Fell – made an intellectual decision that she was no longer prepared to exist within the strictures of angelic existence but instead wanted to taste the freedom of humanity. She disobeyed and she Fell and Castiel despises her for it, unable to understand the choice that she made, at the same time as being intrigued by it, more and more the longer he is exposed to humanity. Anna confuses the hell out of him and he both resents and fears it.

But he needs guidance, and has no one else to turn to. Uriel has fled, frequently holds opposing views to Castiel anyway, and is currently just another source of disquieting doubt and suspicion. Their superiors are likewise a current source of disquieting doubt and suspicion. He might have considered confiding in Dean, but Dean is currently down for the count, his blood on Castiel's hands, so to speak. So who does that leave? Only Anna, the Fallen angel, who has already offered words of wisdom about this situation; he knows that she is concerned and would, should be able to help. So he calls out for her, knowing that by so doing he is treading in very muddy waters indeed.

Silence.


Castiel turns to leave in despair…but then a rush of air gives him sudden hope. "Anna. Please," he implores, without turning around, and the street light just above him starts to flicker. He turns, and there is Anna.

"Decided to kill me after all?" she challenges. Castiel tells her that he is alone, and she asks what he wants from her.

"I'm considering disobedience," Castiel worriedly exists.

That is huge. Castiel considering disobedience, which is Murder One for angels, pushed to this end because he no longer knows who he can or can't trust.

Anna was not expecting to hear this, but is pleased. "Good," she nods.

Castiel shakes his head. "No. It isn't. For the first time, I feel…" He doesn't know how to describe what he feels, and then Anna tells him that it gets worse, which isn't exactly comforting.


"Choosing your own course of action, it's confusing," she says, stepping toward him. "Terrifying." Reaching out, she gives his arm a gentle squeeze, and Castiel, unaccustomed to physical gestures of any kind, eyes her hand worriedly, as if her version of Falling might be catching. Anna sees the look and is exasperated. "That's right," she bitterly huffs. "You're too good for my help. I'm just trash. A walking blasphemy."

Anna is well placed to offer counsel for Castiel, but she, too, is still struggling to find her way, learning and growing – discovering what it means to live with the consequences of her choices.

She turns and starts walking away, but Castiel despairingly calls after her. "Anna. I don't know what to do. Please tell me what to do."


Wow. If we cast our mind back over the history of Castiel as we know him, this moment really is huge. He started out so mighty and magnificent, swept through his scenes, terrifying and dominating and righteous. Yet little by little, as the season has gone on, his confidence and surety have been whittled away, until he is reduced to this: utter uncertainty, eaten up with unfamiliar emotions that he struggles to comprehend, begging for instruction from the Fallen angel he despises. The development of this recurring character has been very nicely handled – it will be very interesting to see where he goes from here.

A nostalgic smile pulls at the edges of Anna's lips. "Like the old days," she reminisces, but then hardens her resolve. No handholding. "No. I'm sorry. It's time to think for yourself."

A flutter of unseen wings, a rush of wind, and she is gone. Castiel is alone once again – alone with the biggest decision of his existence to make and no one to help him make it. He has never been so alone. But it is time to think for himself.

Castiel stands there casting his eyes about the place, not knowing what to do…and catches sight of a drinking fountain nearby. And he suddenly realises something.

Slaughterhouse

Castiel returns to the scene of the crime to conduct a spot of quasi-forensic examination. It's like CSI: Angel! He finds the exact spot where the devil's trap was broken and runs his finger through it, feeling the damp, then looks up at the leaky pipe above and traces the drip back to the valve, which he shuts off with a disheartened wave of a hand.

The drip stops at once, and Castiel understands just how easy it was for his trap to be sabotaged – and how easily Alistair's escape, and Dean's subsequent near-fatal injury, could have been prevented. He looks tired, grim and dejected at the sickening realisation.

"You called," Uriel's deep, throaty voice grates out from somewhere nearby. "What do you say, Castiel? Will you join me? Fight with me?"

Castiel is staring off into space again and doesn't even seem to be listening. "It's strange," he remarks. "Strange how a leaky pipe can undo the work of angels, when we ourselves are supposed to be the agents of fate."


Uriel has the grace to look slightly abashed and has to look away as he blusters, "Alistair was much more powerful than we imagined."

"No," says Castiel, at last certain in his own mind. "No demon can overpower that trap. I made it myself. We've been friends for a long time, Uriel. Fought by each other's sides. Served together, away from home, for what seems like forever. We're brothers, Uriel. Pay me that respect. Tell me the truth."

We're brothers. Pay me that respect. Tell me the truth. Dean might very well say those exact words to Sam. The parallel is a strong one.

"The truth is," Uriel admits. "The only thing that can kill an angel…is another angel."

A long, silver blade slides out of his sleeve into his hand as he speaks. Very nifty. Castiel stills, eyes fixed on the blade. He had suspected. But having that suspicion confirmed is a sucker punch. "You," he sadly concludes, understanding now the depth of his partner's betrayal. "And you broke the devil's trap, set Alistair on Dean."

Uriel shakes his head. "Alistair should never have been taken alive," he laments. Right, it was all Castiel's fault for capturing Alistair and thus forcing Uriel to take action. Not Uriel's fault for betraying his side at all. "Really inconvenient, Cas. Yes, I did turn the screw a little. Alistair should have killed Dean and escaped and you should have gone on happily scapegoating the demons."

Castiel can hardly believe what he is hearing. "For the murders," he presses. "Of our kin."


"Not murders, Castiel," protests Uriel, not liking the connotations of that word, which do not fit his self-image. "No. My work is conversion. How long have we waited here? How long have we played this game? By rules that make no sense!"

Castiel shakes his head in utter disbelief. "It is our Father's world," he insists, turning away, which – maybe not the most sensible thing to do, turning his back on the angel that has already killed seven members of their garrison.

"Our Father!" Uriel derisively dismisses. "He stopped being that, if he ever was, the moment he created them. Humanity. His favourites."

He always was a human-hating fundamentalist. There is a reason envy is categorised as a sin. Lucifer Fell because he was not prepared to bow before humanity, according to mythology. Uriel is following a dangerous precedent.

Castiel looks truly shocked by what he is hearing. Unlike his assigned partner, Castiel has always valued humanity immensely, for all their flaws, viewing them as beautiful creations of the Father he loves. "Are you trying to convert me?" he realises with astonishment. This really is a day of revelation for Castiel – but not in the traditional angelic revelation sense, of course!

"I wanted you to join me," Uriel admits. "I still do. With you we can be powerful enough to…to raise our brother."

"Lucifer." Castiel realises the full scale of Uriel's rebellion.

"You do remember him," Uriel presses, eyes aglow with the fire of a true believer. "How strong he was. How beautiful. And he didn't bow to humanity. He was punished for defending us. Now, if you want to believe in something, Cas, believe in him."

There are so many factions forming now, on all sides, it is boggling. There is no suggestion that Uriel has openly allied with Lilith – he would never lower himself to such a thing, despising demons even more than humans. But he does agree with her agenda for his own reasons, his exposure to humankind since this war began causing his inherent dislike for them to harden into full-blown hatred. Why should he and his, so perfect and mighty, suffer and die for the likes of these? Resentment in full flow, Uriel has looked back upon the Fall of his brother Lucifer and seen justification rather than error, to the extent that he is prepared to sabotage his own side if it will aid the cause of the demon now attempting to free Lucifer.

Jaded and disillusioned, Uriel has lost faith in God, so distant and unknowable – yet, ironically, he has instead placed his faith in a being equally distant and unknowable. He is trusting that Lucifer would side with him, once free, rather than with the demonkind that he created. Yet there are no guarantees of anything.

"Lucifer is not God," Castiel firmly points out, very clear on just where his allegiances lie.


"God isn't God any more," Uriel disdainfully spits. "He doesn't care what we do. I am proof of that."

Uriel is not the first to be confused and disillusioned by heaven's hands-off policy, and he will not be the last. He has been plotting and scheming behind the backs of his fellow angels, murdering those he could not persuade to his way of thinking, and no one – least of all God – has yet intervened to stop him. He has interpreted this as proof that God does not care what he does. The alternate interpretation, however, is that this non-intervention policy is actually an act of mercy, allowing every opportunity for repentance. Having been left to his own devices thus far, Uriel is assuming that this state of affairs will continue, not recognising the fact that punishment has merely not happened yet.

It is all about free will, which can be a very difficult concept to internalise. Free will does not come with a safety net. An individual possessing free will has the power to achieve great things, but also to do immeasurable damage, both to themselves and others, and must stand or fall by the consequences of their actions and decisions. Each individual has the right to choose and learn and grow. Not everyone will make it, and as a result there will be suffering along the way, but everyone has that chance. Freedom can be a terrible thing, and is easy to misuse.

"But this?" Castiel sighs. "What were you going to do, Uriel? Kill the whole garrison?"

"I only killed the ones who said no," says Uriel, with both regret and menace in his voice.

Now that is a statement laden with meaning. Uriel has been slowly but surely attempting to subvert the entire garrison, whispering sedition in the ears of his fellow angels and murdering those who refused to join his cause – both as an act of sabotage that would weaken the garrison and to prevent them informing others of his treason, satisfied that demons would take the blame, thus further deflecting any suspicion away from him. He only killed the ones who said no, he says – meaning, of course, that some have said yes. There is no way of knowing how many other angels have defected to Uriel's cause and are actively subverting their side's efforts in this war.

Castiel takes his meaning and is deeply dismayed, hangs his head.

"Others have joined me, Cas. Now please, brother, don't fight me," Uriel urges. "Help me. Help me spread the word. Help me bring on the Apocalypse. All you have to do is be unafraid."

Castiel looks sorrowful and shaken – but resolved. "For the first time in a long time," he sadly tells his brother angel. "I am."


For the first time in a long time Castiel is unafraid. Being in the world has been terribly confusing for him, a very steep learning curve, but everything makes sense again now, in a warped kind of way. Learning the truth has strengthened his resolve. It was tremendously unsettling for him to doubt his Father, but transferring that doubt to his brethren – to Uriel, revealed as a traitor – suggests a course of action he can live with, following the precepts of his own conscience and deciding for himself what is wrong and what is right, based on his restored faith in God. He still might not have all the answers, but he knows that Uriel is wrong, that it is not for angels to rebel against the cause they have been chosen to defend. Blindly following Uriel's lead on this was a mistake, but Castiel now intends to set it right. And he is unafraid.

Uriel smiles, thinking he has successfully converted his brother angel…but Castiel wipes the smile right off his face immediately by winding up for a hefty right hook that sends Uriel flying back right through the wall behind him. Just so we know that however lame the angelic hand-to-hand might look, they nonetheless pack quite a punch.

Uriel pulls himself back out of the wall, glowering. Castiel looks a little wide-eyed with shock at what he just did, attacking one of his brethren, but gathers up his resolve and sets his game face in place.

Fisticuffs ensue. The angels smack one another around quite a bit, and it is just as lame and staged as their hand-to-hand combat with the demons back in Heaven and Hell. This is why angelic battles should always be off-screen, where there is no limit to our imaginations. I choose again to rationalise with the thought that angelic might is limited when confined to a human body.

Uriel very quickly gains the upper hand, because Castiel loses every fight he ever gets into, despite the fact that he calls himself a soldier. He gamely keeps going, though, at least until Uriel swings a heavy metal pipe at his head.

Down for the count, Castiel sways gently on his knees. "You can't win, Uriel," he dazedly insists. "I still serve God."

Castiel's faith has been restored and he is stronger for it, even if he has lost this fight, since he sucks at hand-to-hand. Uriel can beat him, he can even kill him, but he can't touch that core of faith, and therefore he can't win.

"You haven't even met the man!" Uriel roars, furious at his recalcitrant brother for not seeing things the same way that he does – another somewhat uncomfortable parallel with Dean and Sam there. "There is no will," he rants, raining blows upon Castiel. "No wrath. No God."

He raises his fist for another swing…but it never falls. Anna, appearing out of nowhere, thrusts Uriel's own blade through his throat, and a sharp wind starts to blow through the room, signalling the impending death of an angel. "Maybe. Maybe not," Anna whispers fiercely in Uriel's ear. "But there's still me."

Anna has had her own issues with heaven and her Fall came as a result. She is still struggling to find her place in the world. But she understands the concept of free will in a way that Castiel is only beginning to grasp: the power of each individual to choose either to do wrong or to do right – to decide for themselves what wrong and right even mean – and to stand by the consequences of that choice. She still has her issues with heaven, but she also still stands by the principles of goodness and love that heaven should stand for. And now she, the Fallen angel, is the agent by which Uriel has now received long overdue punishment for his actions, having finally run out of time to repent.

Anna pulls the blade out and Uriel collapses to the floor. Then, as Anna moves to stand at Castiel's shoulder, Uriel's eyes and mouth open and explode with white light, the death throes of an angel. The blast takes out every window in the building.


And another innocent host is dead, without so much as a word of acknowledgement.

Castiel regains his feet and gazes down at the corpse that once contained his former colleague, that awesome wing pattern burned into the ground beneath, and then exchanges a long, uneasy glance with Anna. They are not on the same side…and yet they are. Anna is a Fallen angel, while Castiel is about as straight-laced a company man as they come, but here, today, they have found common ground and realised that they are fighting for a common cause and for common ideals, if not in support of the same regime.


Hospital

The ventilator that was formerly supporting Dean's breathing has now been replaced by a nasal cannula. That miracle Sam asked for earlier has not been necessary; he is recovering from his injuries by himself, although it will no doubt be a longer and more painful process without that miracle.

As Dean rouses, Sam is nowhere in sight, but instead Castiel is sitting at his bedside. "Are you all right?" the angel quietly asks, staring off into space. Castiel's eyes are usually glued to Dean when they share a scene, but he has avoided looking directly at him for much of this episode, clear evidence of his deeply troubled mind. A large portion of the blame for Dean's current condition attaches to Castiel, and he is uncomfortably aware of that fact.

"No thanks to you," Dean grates out, voice completely and utterly thrashed by the double whammy of strangulation and intubation. He looks away, his movements slow and sluggish, barely moving his lips when he talks, turning his head as little as possible.


Dean really has been beaten to hell, broken in both body and spirit, and Castiel still can't look at him, the living symbol of his failure. "You need to be more careful," states the angel.

"You need to learn how to manage a damn devil's trap," Dean flings back, a half-hearted attempt at something approaching his usual feisty spirit.

Castiel finally looks directly at his charge. "That's not what I mean," he says. "Uriel is dead."

"Was it the demons?" Dean asks, flicking side eyes in Castiel's direction for the first time, still not moving his head any more than absolutely necessary. Headache must be a killer. Plus, I suspect he is as reluctant to look Castiel in the eye as Castiel is to look at him.

"It was disobedience," Castiel rather unhelpfully replies, staring off into space again. You can die from disobedience? Scary! He looks back at Dean again to elaborate ever so slightly. "He was working against us."


He doesn't explain that Uriel's betrayal is the reason Dean was forced to face Alistair and almost died. Maybe Dean doesn't need to know. Maybe Castiel simply can't face that confession, because he listened to the lie and he knew it was wrong but still allowed it to happen.

Dean takes this information on board without much interest, having larger and more awful matters on his mind. "Is it true?" he asks at length, angling his head in Castiel's direction more directly than at any previous point in this conversation. "Did I break the first Seal? Did I start all this?"

Castiel makes himself hold Dean's eyes. He would never, ever have wanted Dean to find out the truth in this way – has shown no sign of wanting him to find out at all. When they first met he was intrigued by Dean's utter lack of self worth, and would not have wanted to add to that burden, clearly realised how devastating this information would be. But he owes his charge honesty now, having knowingly placed him in such an exposed position for Alistair to exploit.

"Yes," he replies, simply and honestly, and Dean has to look away again, damned by those words. "When we discovered Lilith's plan for you we laid siege to hell, and we fought our way to get to you before you –" Castiel continues.

That is an awesome, awesome image – the forces of heaven laying siege to hell, because they knew that Dean was the righteous man who could break. But they didn't get there in time. They failed. How much does that failure weigh on Castiel, the knowledge that all this could have been prevented if his team had managed to fight their way through a little faster – paralleling Dean's belief that all this could have been prevented if he had just been able to hold out? How much personal responsibility does Castiel take for Dean's situation, especially now that he has got to know him so well?

Also? This stands as further evidence that Alistair was lying about John. John was in hell a good six months longer than Dean, and no rescue attempt was mounted by heaven. If Lilith had been trying to use him to break the Seal, heaven would have heard about it, just as they heard of her attempt with Dean, and they would have tried to get there in time to prevent the Seal from breaking. No such attempt was made, because no one tried to use John to break that Seal.

That is a side issue, however. Here and now, Dean's focus is on the magnitude of his failure. As Castiel confirms the very worst, the camera stays on Dean in intense close up – absolutely shattered to his core. "So I started the Apocalypse," he interrupts, staring desolately off into space. Unsuccessful rescue attempts are immaterial to him. His own catastrophic failure is the only thing he can see, all-encompassing.


Castiel casts his eyes heavenward in grief. "We were too late," he laments.

"Why didn't you just leave me there then?" Dean bitterly demands, his despair absolute. The angels did not get there in time to prevent him from breaking, and the Seal from breaking with him, so why did they bother to pull him out when it was already too late? Why not leave him there, in eternal torment, as punishment for damning the entire world?

"It's not blame that falls on you, Dean," says Castiel, staring up at the ceiling and picking his words carefully. "It's fate. The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it." He turns worried eyes toward Dean once more, but Dean is no longer looking at him, not now that the truth has been confirmed. "You have to stop it."

This, then, is why Dean was pulled out of hell and restored to life. Not for his own sake, but for what fate had made of him. He became important only when Lilith decided to use him to break that Seal, and remains important only because she succeeded, because he broke. He has been asking the question all season: why me? Now he knows – and that knowledge is terrible. It is too much, the burden more than he can bear, more than anyone could bear. It is why Castiel did not want him to know, certainly not yet, and certainly not like this.

The righteous man who begins it is the only one who can finish it. So if Dean is the only one who can finish it, the ultimate weapon to prevent Lucifer's rise should all else fail, that adds a whole new dimension to Uriel's betrayal, as well as to Alistair's vicious verbal tormenting of his former victim. Uriel wanted the Apocalypse, and if his plan had succeeded, if Alistair had killed Dean, then a major obstacle would have been removed. Equally, it was to Alistair's advantage, as one of Lilith's chief henchmen, to break Dean all over again, to the end of rendering him incapable of fulfilling this weighty destiny.

It is a little surprising, in fact, that the demons haven't had a hit out on Dean all along, but I would imagine that most of the significant information in this war is kept on a strict need to know basis by those high enough up the chain of command to believe they have the right and wisdom to make that decision. Information can be dangerous if it falls into the wrong hands, although it is also dangerous if not shared with those who need to know. It is a fine line to walk. Lilith doesn't necessarily need Dean dead; his current desolate hopelessness and utter lack of anything approaching self-belief is more than sufficient for her purposes. If he is too beaten down to fight and too broken to get back up, then he can't stand in her way.

Anna warned Castiel that leaving Dean in that room with Alistair risked ruining the one real weapon that they had, and it seems that is exactly what has happened. Alistair did a good job, and he had plenty of raw material to work with in Dean's already battered psyche.

"Lucifer," Dean whispers, the magnitude of the crushing weight upon his shoulders becoming clear. "The Apocalypse. What does that mean?" Castiel looks away again, looking almost desperate to escape this conversation, and from the corner of his eyes, Dean sees the look on his face, and calls to him. "Hey. Don't you go disappearing on me, you son of a bitch. What does that mean?" His voice strengthens just a little, becoming growly and angry – it's a step up from defeated, but only a small step to slide back down again.

"I don't know," Castiel quietly admits. Dean fiercely cries foul, but Castiel insists it is true. He turns worried eyes back toward the human, anxious that he should understand. He wants Dean to know he is being completely honest now that the truth is out. He owes him that much. "Dean, they don't tell me much. I know our fate rests with you."

Dean looks horrified and desperate and defeated. "Well then, you guys are screwed," he hopelessly breathes and Castiel has to look away from the raw anguish in his face. "I can't do it, Cas. It's too big. Alistair was right. I'm not all here, I'm not strong enough."

Dean has given up, completely and utterly spent, defeated and destroyed. He's hit rock bottom at last – and it has been a long and painful fall. He has been fighting all his life, whether he believed success was within his ability to attain or not, has been told so many times that he was weak and pathetic and believed those words every time, but still he kept fighting because his belief in that fight was stronger. He believed it had to be done, believed that it mattered, that he had to at least try, whether victory was possible or not. But no more. He is all used up, nothing left to give, and has no hope left whatsoever. Broken in both body and mind.

And Castiel has no comfort to offer whatsoever.

Tears trickle down Dean's cheeks as he bitterly concludes, "I guess I'm not the man either of my dads wanted me to be. Find someone else. It's not me."


Damn.

This is Dean's lowest ever ebb, the ultimate emotional nadir. This is rock bottom, and there is not so much as a glimmer of hope anywhere in sight. Dean is the only person who can stop the Apocalypse, according to Castiel, because the one who started it is also the one with the power to end it. Somehow. Except that Dean is utterly, utterly shattered, both physically and emotionally, by everything he has been through, and the crushing weight of this responsibility is too much. Overwhelming. He had such little faith in himself to begin with. All his life he has believed that his best was never good enough, and whichever way he turns all he sees now is confirmation of that fact. He wasn't strong enough to prevent the Apocalypse from beginning, so how can he possibly be strong enough to end it? What little self-esteem he had has been destroyed. And even if that weren't true, he is just a man, human, with no special abilities to aid or protect him.

I have a sneaking suspicion that that is where Sam is going to come in. The brothers have been deeply divided all season, each with his own crushing issues to deal with, unable to bridge the gulf between them. But as the season winds its way toward what is sure to be a breathtaking finale, I suspect that the brothers will have to find their way back to one another and work together, combining Dean's unique situation with Sam's forbidden abilities in order to save the world.

Time will tell if I am right or not.

There is a hell of a lot more that could and should be said about this episode. With questions now beginning to be answered and mysteries beginning to be revealed, we are entering the beginning of the resolution phase of the seasonal arc – but there is still a long, long way to go. How will Castiel now balance his belief in duty with the knowledge that there are traitors among his angelic brethren? How will the loose end that is Anna be resolved? What are Ruby's intentions for Sam and will he be able to resist? When will Dean find out about Sam and the demon blood and how will he react? How can Dean possibly even begin to pick himself back up after this latest soul-shattering blow? Can the Apocalypse be prevented? The story is getting darker and denser by the minute.

April 2009

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