Supernatural 4.18 The Monster At The End Of This Book

"It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight."

Wow, this is an episode I appreciate more and more the more I watch and study it. My initial reaction to it revolved around uncertainty, as it is extremely self-referential in places, stuffed full of internal meta, and while I have no problem with Show poking fun at itself and its fans, there is always the danger of taking it too far. I tend not to be too fond of anything that tears down the fourth wall and threatens my suspension of disbelief.

Happily, a few cringe-worthy moments aside, this episode is made of awesome. It is a classic bait-and-switch episode. The first half relentlessly tosses out the meta, full of self-referential jokes and humorous gimmicks, but the real strength of the episode is that this meta-fictional approach is never self-indulgent, but rather built into the storyline as an integral plot device that enables the writers to examine crucial seasonal themes such as destiny versus free will, not to mention character motivation. The second half of the episode, meanwhile, takes a far darker and more meaningful turn, the overall combination resulting in heavyweight character development and forward plot movement.

No Then. No Now

House

In a gloomy, grimy pit of a bachelor pad's lounge, beer cans and dirty dishes strewn everywhere, an unkempt young man sprawls across his couch in a drunken stupor.

While sleeping, the man dreams. He dreams of scenes that will later take place in this very episode – in reverse order, as far as I can tell. He sees Dean. He sees Sam. He sees the Impala. He sees himself. He sees a motel. He sees a young woman he knows to be his publisher. He sees a box of fake IDs in the Impala's trunk. He sees Sam's laptop. He sees Dean again. He sees Sam again.

Fade to…reality.

Comic Store

Dean and Sam wander into a random comic book store, and oh wow. They are wearing their long black trench coats and serious 'I'm an FBI Agent, ask me how' expressions. Hee! We haven't even had the titles yet, but already this episode is off to a flyer.



The store assistant – let us call him the Comic Guru – eyes these newcomers warily, since they don't resemble his usual customers in the slightest, and asks if he can help them. Dean sure hopes so, pulling out his fake FBI ID and introducing himself and Sam as agents De Young and Shaw, thus prompting a somewhat incredulous double take from the Comic Guru, who has heard those names before, but not in this context.

Between them, the brothers ask the Comic Guru if he has noticed anything unusual in the building recently, quoting other tenants as having reported flickering lights or scratching noises in the walls. The Comic Guru stares at them in blank incomprehension as he wonders why the FBI would be investigating a rodent problem. Undeterred, Sam asks about cold spots, if he has noticed any sudden drops in temperature…and a slow smile spreads across the man's face as he suddenly thinks he knows what this is about.

"I knew it!" he crows. "You guys are LARPing, aren't you?"

Dean blinks. "Excuse me?"

"You're fans," the Comic Guru elaborates, oblivious to the fantastic wtf expressions rapidly spreading across both brothers' faces.

"Fans of what?" Sam suspiciously asks.

"What is LARPing?" Dean equally suspiciously adds.



"Like you don't know," chuckles the Comic Guru, but he still gets nothing but blank stares in response. They really don't know, so he explains that it stands for Live Action Role Playing. "And pretty hardcore, too," he adds, gesturing at their trench coats, because he inhabits a safe little world where trench coats are hardcore.

Dean still has no idea what he is talking about.

"You're asking questions like the building's haunted," the Comic Guru points out, and he is right – they are. "Like those guys, from the books – what are they called? Supernatural."

…and now we are into the world of serious self-referentialism, a tightrope act that this episode wobbles its way through, but mostly manages to successfully pull off.

Since the Comic Guru is still getting nothing but blank looks, he keeps talking, like he thinks if he explains the concept in enough detail the brothers will eventually give up, drop out of character, and admit that he's been right all along. "Two guys use fake IDs with rock aliases – hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires." But far from admitting to the role-play, the brothers are starting to look more than a little freaked out by now, hearing their lives recapped by a complete stranger like this. "What are their names?" the Comic Guru tries to recall. "Steve and Dirk? Sal and Dane?"

"Sam and Dean?" Sam tentatively proposes.



The Comic Guru delightedly agrees that that's it, and Sam looks alarmed. Dean plays it cool, questioning the Comic Guru on this book, and is informed that it is books plural – a whole series, in fact. Or rather, it was a series, past tense, since it "didn't sell a lot of copies, though. Kind of more of an underground cult following."

You know, we could be here forever if we tried to dissect every piece of internal meta in this episode, since we find ourselves tripping over it in just about every scene, so we'll just note that little shout out at Show's decidedly sparse viewing figures, but passionate cult following, and move on.

An example of one of the Supernatural books is unearthed from the bargain bin for the brothers' elucidation, and, yes – the bargain bin location is another snippet of internal meta for us to fall over and giggle at, one of the more subtle offerings that really works. Ah, Show and its relative obscurity.

The book the Comic Guru digs out is the very first one, titled Supernatural, by Carver Edlund.



Carver. Edlund. Heh. And…oh, oh, oh. Marvellous! The front cover bears an image of the Impala with the brothers standing alongside it like a pair of Harlequin models, a rugged, chiselled-featured Dean carrying a heavy bag of rock salt on his shoulder, while Sam has been drawn as Fabio, shirtless, for no apparent reason, all sculpted abs and long flowing locks and bearing a shotgun, and it is the long flowing locks that really just about kill me, because Sam's hair is always such a fabulous target for mockery. Hee!

The back cover summarises the case of the Woman in White and John's disappearance…although it seems to causally link the one to the other, which is blatantly not how that story worked, but the inaccuracy is fairly typical of back cover blurbs. The brothers are stunned – and decidedly creeped out.

"We're going to need all the copies of Supernatural you've got," Sam fiercely instructs the Comic Guru, snatching the book from his brother's hands.

Titles

Fake Supernatural book series titles! It's a montage of cover-art based around various monsters from season one: the wendigo, the scarecrow, the racist truck and Pa Bender, who I initially thought was meant to be Bobby and then was sad when I realised I was wrong, because Bobby in the fake titles would be awesome.

Motel

Dean lounges attractively on a bed strewn with books, reading. He is in the middle of Route 666, and getting more disturbed by the minute. "This is freaking insane!" he grumbles, flipping a page and looking thoroughly squicked out. "How's this guy know all this stuff?"



Sam, sitting at the table frowning over his laptop, has no explanation to offer.

"Everything is in here. I mean everything!" Dean disbelieves. "From the racist truck to me having sex – I'm full frontal in here, dude."

Heh. There was no full frontal nudity in the version we got to see! It was all very tastefully edited for television viewing….

Sam wrinkles his nose in disgust at the thought of his brother naked, no doubt resolving never to read that page, even in the interest of research. Hee!

Pushing off the bed to join Sam at the laptop, Dean wonders how they have never heard of these books before, since it is their life story being captured in print, and all. Having been buried in research while Dean was buried in the books, Sam can answer that question, at least, explaining that the books are pretty obscure. "Almost zero circulation. Started in '05 – publisher put out a couple of dozen before going bankrupt. And, uh, the last one – No Rest For The Wicked – ends with you going to hell."

The publisher went bankrupt…not unlike the CW has been threatening to do pretty much since its inception. Heh.



The list of titles Sam has found is curious. It appears to be a complete list of all the titles in the Supernatural series…but condenses three seasons of episodes into just 24 books and, judging by the titles, there are some pretty major omissions! The books jump from Salvation to Bloodlust, for example, so unless three full episodes got crammed into the Salvation book, John's deal with Azazel and subsequent death are completely skipped. Similarly, there is an even bigger jump from Heart to Sin City, so those two books must be pretty huge and involve some pretty major editing together of crucial storylines if Sam's death and Dean's crossroads deal are to be touched on at all. And they must be dealt with in the books, for the series to end with Dean going to hell. Unless he just randomly goes to hell with no explanation, that is!

Dean stares at the screen in bewilderment. "I reiterate: freaking insane," he disgustedly complains. Dean likes the word 'reiterate'. He says it quite a lot. He continues browsing the pages Sam's research has uncovered, and is intrigued. "Check it out – there's actually fans. There's not many of them, but still." And again with the relative obscurity jibe – this whole permanently on the bubble thing is on the mind of the writers, or what? "Did you read this?" Dean queries, deeply bemused.

Yep, Sam did. He keeps quiet about what he found, though, letting Dean embark on his own little voyage of discovery.

"Well, for fans, they sure do complain a lot," observes Dean. Hee! Okay, that little shout-out to the small but oh-so critical fanbase really is amusing, because it is so, so true. Overall, though, this is the scene that makes me cringe most. "Listen to this," Dean continues. "Simpatico says: 'the demon storyline is trite, clichéd and overall craptastic'. Yeah, well screw you, Simpatico. We lived it."

Sam snorts and tells his brother to keep reading. "It gets better."

"There's Sam girls and Dean girls," Dean enthuses, amused – and then perplexed. "And…what's a slash fan?"

Ah, yes. The slash. Gay porn written by straight women about straight men, with added incest squick to boot, because if Show has it, then Show's self-referential books have to have it, too. Because Kripke is an equal opportunity mocker who likes to poke fun at all things ridiculous, from his own team of writers to Show's avid but oh-so critical (and insane) fans.

"As in…Sam slash Dean. Together," Sam delicately explains, nose once more crinkled with distaste.



It takes a moment for Dean to put two and two together there, because the very concept is so far out of left field. "Like…together, together?" He is scandalised – and it takes a lot to scandalise Dean! "They do know we're brothers, right?"



"Doesn't seem to matter," Sam sniffs, equally grossed out.

"Oh, come on. That's just sick," Dean groans, slamming the laptop shut in disgust.



Well, they can't say it any plainer than that. They are both straight and they are brothers. They really are not sleeping together, no matter how many people inexplicably think they would be more attractive if they did.

"We've got to find this Carver Edlund," Dean declares, but Sam tiredly sighs that it might not be so easy. He can't find any trace of Carver Edlund – no tax records, no known address – and has concluded that it must be a pen name. However, as Dean points out, somebody has to know who he is.

Publisher's house

The head of the now defunct Flying Wiccan Press, publisher of the Supernatural books, is a Fan. Her office features several large, framed originals of the series' cover art, along with a full, mint-condition set of the books themselves.

Also, although she is not named on-screen, I am informed that the publisher's name is Sera Siege, another shout-out to Show's writing team.

Also? Actress Keegan Connor Tracy previously played the grieving widow in The Usual Suspects (which, incidentally, is not one of the titles listed for the books). Seeing her again here, throughout this scene I keep forgetting that her previous character is dead and constantly expect this new character to comment on how familiar the boys look and has she seen them before. Recasting actors as different characters is confusing!



"These books – they never really got the attention they deserved," Sera Siege fondly gushes. "All anybody wants to read any more is that romance crap – you know: Doctor Sexy, MD. Please."

Heh. Nice little shout out to Grey's Anatomy there, what with the majority of America's viewing public apparently preferring to watch that in the 9pm Thursday timeslot rather than Our Beloved Show, thus robbing it of the attention it deserves.

"Well, we're hoping that our article can shine a light on an under appreciated series," Sam offers, niftily informing us of the brothers' current cover story, as well as offering still more internal meta on Show's relative obscurity, not to mention its chronic lack of publicity.

Sera Siege is all over this idea and enthuses that maybe if they got some good press they could start publishing again. The thought of it horrifies Dean…who then has to back peddle on his fervent, much too quick denial of the idea, since they are meant to be fans. And it kills me that he is so appalled by the idea of still more books chronicling his life, while Sam either doesn't get why this bothers him so much or has suddenly become really good at maintaining his poker face.

"Why would you want to do that? It's such a complete series," Dean babbles, deeply uncomfortable but trying hard not to show it. "What with…Dean going to hell and all."



Sera Siege melts into a gooey puddle at the mere mention of that particular storyline, squeaking that it was one of her favourite books, what with Dean being so strong and sad and brave, and she doesn't say the word 'pretty' out loud but you just know she's thinking it. "And Sam," she wibbles, because she is bibro and loves both brothers equally, and she is so breathy and over-emotional and wild-eyed it is hilarious, she sounds just like any number of gushing post-episode squee posts I could point to! "I mean – the best parts are when they cry!"

The brothers squirm uncomfortably, getting more and more deeply disturbed by the minute as, almost in tears herself at the beautiful memory, she relates various occasions on which they were each reduced to tears, such as in Heart, when Sam had to kill Madison, the first woman he'd loved since Jessica, or when Dean phoned John from Lawrence in Home.

Dean mouths a flabbergasted 'what the –' at Sam, whose eyebrows are somewhere up near his hairline, eyes wide as dinner plates.

"If only real men were so open and in touch with their feelings," she fervently concludes, whirling around to level an almost accusatory glare at Dean for not being the kind of Real Man she so adores in those books, except that he is, but she doesn't know that, and the referentialism there is so circular it makes my head hurt just thinking about it! "No offence – how often do you cry like that, huh?"

Ha. I'm not even going to go there.

"Well, right now I'm crying on the inside," Dean offers, stunned by all of this.

"Is that supposed to be funny?" she snits, offended.

"Lady, this whole thing is funny," snorts Dean, almost breathless with disbelief. I really love the reactions of the brothers to this whole self-referential situation – so stunned and disbelieving and creeped out.



Not liking his attitude, Sera Siege suspiciously wonders how she knows the brothers are legit, snipping that she doesn't want any smartass article making fun of 'her boys'. Aww. Heh.

The brothers hasten to assure her that they would never do that, and are in fact big fans themselves – Dean is honestly able to state that he has read the books cover to cover.

Sera Siege remains sceptical and fires off a pop quiz. Year and model of the car? That's an easy one – 1967 Chevy Impala, and I adore that even in the midst of this insane and ridiculous situation Dean is so proud and happy to be able to talk about his beloved car. May 2nd is Sam's birthday, although he only just remembers to refer to himself in the third person. January 24th is Dean's, Dean quickly, nonchalantly adds, even though she hasn't asked.

Then Sera Siege asks for Sam's score in the LSAT test…and Sam has to think really hard to remember that it was 174, which is a heartbreaking little detail that I really love, because it is so sad and feels so real. Once upon a time that test and what it meant for his future were everything to him, but he is so far removed from those dreams now it isn't funny. I also love that Dean clearly has no idea what his brother's score was; he was never a part of that life.

The final question, though, Dean has no trouble answering: his favourite song. It's a tie, he says, smiling – Zep's Rambling On and Travelling Riverside Blues.



A broad grin breaks out all over Sera Siege's face as she is finally convinced and cheerfully asks what they want to know. Sam immediately gets right down to business and asks what Carver Edlund's real name is, because that single piece of information is the only reason they've put themselves through this whole insane interview, but she promptly clams right back up again and starts hemming and hawing that she couldn't possible divulge this information. Sam keeps smooth talking that they just want to talk to him and get the Supernatural story in his own words, but Publisher insists that he is very private – like Salinger.

Sam gets the Salinger reference. Dean doesn't.

"Please," Sam implores, bringing out the big guns and deploying his most super-duper puppy dog eyes of utter sincerity. "Like I said, we are big, big fans."



By way of convincing her of this, he opens his coat and starts to unbutton his shirt, at which Dean double takes a little, but the purpose of this minor undressing is to reveal the protective tattoo on his breast, rather than an actual striptease, and Sam flicks meaningful side eyes at his brother to follow his example. Rolling his eyes, Dean complies.



Sera Siege is delighted, as she should be. The tats are awesome. Giggling, she gleefully turns around and shows them her own tat – which is on her backside. "Wow," Dean breathes, staring, unable to keep his most lecherous grin off his face. "You are a fan."

You know, for all that he is so unnerved by those books, Dean smiles an awful lot in this scene – more than we've seen him smile in months, in fact! It is fantastic. I want to see Dean smile more! Alas, circumstances being what they are, it doesn't seem likely.

Giddy with delight, Sera Siege starts scribbling down an address on a piece of notepaper, explaining that the writer's name is Chuck Shurley. "And he's a genius, so don't piss him off," she warns.

Oh, but now my inner Data Protection Officer is wailing that she should have first contacted Chuck Shurley to ask if a) he is willing to give an interview, and b) he minds her giving his name and address out to random journalists fans just because they know his books off by heart and have awesome tattoos on their breasts. Never divulge personal information without permission! Unless she has standing permission to exercise her discretion in such circumstances, but if he is such a recluse I would doubt it.

Chuck's house

Chuck Shurley, of course, is the drunken visionary from the teaser, unkempt and unshaven, and I would like to make note at this point of the fact that the way he wears his beard, more 'can't be bothered shaving' than fashion statement, is exactly how my brother wears his beard, and within the family we nickname him John the Baptist (fresh from the wilderness) because of it. And, of course, John the Baptist? He was a prophet.

Just tossing that thought out there, nice and early. Good one, Show.

By light of day, Chuck drifts around his cluttered and filthy house wearing a ratty old bathrobe over faded boxer shorts and vest, beer can in hand, to collect the latest pages from his printer. Sitting down, he starts proof reading his work, which sees Sam and Dean approaching a rundown ramshackle house with trepidation.

Chuck's voiceover continues as, outside, Sam and Dean exit the Impala and start walking toward his house, his narrative more or less exactly matching their actions – give or take a little dramatic licence. "Did they really want to learn the secrets that lay beyond that door? Sam and Dean traded soulful looks," he reads.

Soulful? It looked more quizzical to me, but what do I know? I'm not a published author! Chuck is writing the book. He gets to describe events however he chooses, even if that description is blatantly wrong.

Oh, but I kinda love the fact that what Chuck writes is the story of what happens, but told through the haze of his personal interpretation, to suit his particular writing style and the expectations of his readers – it reminds me so much of how folklore and mythology form. Something happens, and someone, who may or may not have been there at the time, turns it into a story, carefully parsing the details to make use of the bits they consider most interesting (or that best suit their particular political ambitions) while discarding anything that doesn't quite suit the story they want to tell, picking their words carefully to apply the specific slant they have chosen to promulgate. The event as it happened slowly gets twisted by all kinds of narrative constructs and political strictures, re-told and re-written over and over until the people who were actually there might not recognise the story being told about them at all. Even first hand eyewitness accounts are always shaded by the personal bias of the observer. No two witnesses ever tell the exact same story; they always notice or prioritise different details. Chinese whispers.

Chuck's narrative continues. "Then, with determination, Dean pushed the doorbell, with forceful determination."

Heh. So just how determined is Dean to get through that door? That word repetition will have to be edited for a later draft! Right now, however, Chuck has other matters on his mind – firstly, his disgust with his own writing, and secondly, the doorbell, which rings at that moment. Rather surprised, since a) he wasn't expecting anyone, and b) he was just reading about the doorbell ringing, he goes to see who is there.

"You Chuck Shurley?" "The Chuck Shurley who wrote the Supernatural books?" Dean and Sam demand by way of hello when Chuck opens the door. He cautiously agrees that he might be and wonders why. "I'm Dean, this is Sam," Dean bluntly informs him. "The Dean and Sam you've been writing about."



Unsurprisingly, Chuck immediately closes the door in their faces, smiling faintly and nodding as you might to a madman you want to get rid of without antagonising.

Dean promptly rings the bell again, and Chuck warily opens the door. "Look," he offers. "I appreciate your enthusiasm. Really, I do – it's always nice to hear from the fans. But, uh, for your own good, I strongly suggest you get a life."



Hmm. Is that a subtle dig at Show's more…over-committed fans?

Dean blocks the door with his arm before Chuck can close it again. "See, here's the thing," he growls. "We have a life. You've been using it to write your books."

The brothers barge their way in past the nervous and befuddled Chuck, demanding to know how he is doing it. Retreating apace, he protests that he isn't doing anything. Dean asks if he is a hunter. Chuck boggles in disbelief and insists that he is a writer. Menacingly advancing, Dean demands to know how Chuck knows so much about demons and tulpas and changelings, and the cringing Chuck falls over backward onto the couch in his effort to get away, babbling that this must be some kind of misery thing.

I have no idea what he is talking about, so have to go away and Google it. Stephen King novel about an obsessive fan. Okay, the reference makes more sense now.

"It's not a Misery thing, believe me – we are not fans," Dean snaps, frustrated and still creeped out by the whole situation. And hey – a reference that Dean immediately understood, no doubt because a) horror, and b) it is a film as well as a book.

Equally freaked out, although for a different reason, Chuck asks what they want from him. By way of answer, Sam introduces himself and his brother Dean again, but Chuck squeaks that Dean and Sam are fictional characters. "I made them up! They're not real!" he insists.

Outside

"Are those real guns?" Chuck gapes, having been hauled outside to take a look at the Impala's trunk as evidence of the reality of the brothers' lives.



Dean agrees that the guns are indeed real. "And this is real rock salt, and these are real fake IDs." Heh.

Chuck chuckles nervously. "I've got to hand it to you guys. You really are my number one fans." He looks at the guns again and backs away, stammering that he has some posters in the house… Dean sternly calls to him to stop, and he holds his hands up, begs for them not to hurt him. He's genuine. But so are they. It is quite the conundrum.

"How much do you know?" Sam demands. "Do you know about the angels? Or Lilith breaking the Seals?"

Chuck's fear dissolves into incomprehension. "How do you know about that?" he gasps.

"The question is: how do you?" Dean counters.

Chuck looks blank and says that he knows about it because he wrote it – he carried on writing after the publisher went bankrupt, but those books were never released. If Dean and Sam were just readers, in other words, fans of his work, they couldn't know the content of those books. Freaking out all over again, Chuck nervously wonders if this is some kind of joke.

Dean rolls his eyes, because all this is too ridiculous for words, and tries for a third introduction. "Well, nice to meet you. I'm Dean Winchester and this is my brother, Sam."

Chuck gapes. Again. Evidently he never put the surname in his books, never told anyone what it was, never even wrote it down, which…why not, I wonder? Also, just how much did he have to amend the details of various storylines in order to avoid saying the name? John's voicemail message in season one, for example. Curious.

Inside

Back indoors, Chuck frantically pours and knocks back a few fingers of whisky to settle his jangling nerves…but then he turns around and Dean and Sam are still standing right there, damning him with their continued existence.

"Oh, you're still there," he groans. "You're not a hallucination." He thinks for a moment about all this insanity, reaches a conclusion and sighs. "Well, there's only one explanation. Obviously I'm a god."

Hee. I love Chuck. Also? His microphone is very clearly visible in this shot, poking out from behind his ratty bathrobe.



Sam rolls his eyes and firmly informs the man that he is not a god, but Chuck is on a roll now. "How else do you explain it?" he insists. "I write things and then they come to life! Yeah, I'm definitely a god – a cruel, cruel capricious god. The things I put you through! The physical beatings alone –"

"We're still in one piece," Dean quietly points out, lounging attractively against the wall.

Clearly not one to take a hint, not least because he is still half-cut, Chuck keeps on talking, diving headfirst into a seemingly bottomless well of guilt as he rakes over all kinds of past hurts he believes he has personally subjected the brothers to. "I killed your father!" he moans. "I burned your mother alive! And then you had to go through the whole, horrific deal again with Jessica?"



Sam, tense and fierce, tries through gritted teeth to shut him up there, since this is the second time today he has been reminded of Jessica, an old wound he had managed to put behind him, but Chuck still won't stop talking. "And for what?" he wails. "All for the sake of literary symmetry! Toying with your lives – your emotions – for entertainment!"

"You didn't toy with us, Chuck, okay?" Dean objects. "You didn't create us!"

Chuck isn't listening. "Did you really have to live through the bugs?" he gasps, appalled. Yes, they did. Chuck is aghast. "What about the ghost ship?" Yes, that too. "I am so sorry," he fervently exclaims. "I mean, horror is one thing, but to be forced to live bad writing! If I would've known it was real, I would've done another pass."

Ha. I love that even Show's writers hate Red Sky At Morning. Bugs gets a bad rap, though – it's not the strongest episode, perhaps, but it's got a lot of good stuff in it! It also tickles me that to Chuck, being forced to live through bad writing is up there on a par with – maybe even worse than – having your entire family murdered; that's the writers poking fun at themselves and their pretentiousness.

"Chuck, you're not a god," Dean insists, exasperated. He's met a few minor gods now, plus an angel or three, so can claim some authority on the subject.

"We think you're probably just psychic," Sam offers, rather more conciliatory.



Chuck dismisses this suggestion out of hand. "If I was psychic, you think I'd be writing? Writing is hard!"

Hee. I love how he whines that line. He sounds so put upon. He's just reeled off a litany of horror and trauma that the Winchester brothers have lived through, but hey – writing is hard. And…in a way, you know, he really is put upon, because it turns out he is kind of being compelled to keep writing, whether he wants to or not and in spite of the fact that no one is publishing his books any more, and it is hard.



The brothers maintain their theory, proposing that Chuck has somehow focused on their lives. Laser focus. They ask if he is working on anything right now, and Chuck gasps, suddenly realising something. "Holy crap," he exclaims, slumping into his desk chair. "The latest book," he explains, "is very Vonnegut."

"Slaughterhouse-Five Vonnegut or Cat's Cradle Vonnegut?" Dean leans in to ask, and Sam turns startled eyes upon him, amazed to hear such literary referencing from his brother's lips. He can't hold back a startled 'what?' to which Dean offers a nonplussed 'what?' right back at him, but Sam can hardly come out and say 'you mean to tell me you're not, in fact, illiterate', so must drop the subject fast…and Dean then smirks at having successfully pushed his brother's buttons. Heh.

There is a fair deal of this kind of interaction in this episode, Dean teasing and mocking his brother in solid, old school brotherly fashion, his way of at least trying to ease some of the tension that has developed between them in recent weeks and months, trying to at least pretend that things are normal. Their out of character experience in It's A Terrible Life served as a timely reminder of how easy their relationship once was, and it comes as no surprise to see Dean trying to reclaim a little of that the only way he knows how: by being his typically obnoxious big brother self.

Also, it is good to see that Dean's general knowledge remains as eclectic as ever.



"Kilgore Trout Vonnegut," Chuck explains. "I wrote myself into it. I wrote myself, in my house…confronted by my characters."

And…it only just occurred to him that he was living that very scene, the scene he just wrote and was just reading seconds before the doorbell rang? And he didn't recognise the brothers from the dreams we know he's been having of them?

Laundromat

ZOMG the brothers are in a Laundromat, doing laundry. Domesticity, ahoy! We've only been waiting four seasons for this scene! Marvellous, marvellous. I love it.



It seems the brothers have appropriated the draft of Chuck's latest work and retired to a safe, neutral location to peruse it. Dean is perusing it, at least, while Sam busily sorts through his washing, and I have to pause and squee over the domesticity all over again.

"I'm sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself sitting in a Laundromat reading about myself," Dean grumbles, except that he pronounces it 'laundry-mat', which is blatantly wrong but very Dean. "My head hurts." Heh. Yes, indeedy. Welcome to the wonderful world of modernism and post-modernism.

"There's got to be something this guy's not telling us," Sam feels, stuffing an armful of clothes into the nearest machine.

Dean watches him, then returns his attention to the page in his hand and narrates, after the fact. "'Sam tossed his gigantic darks into the machine. He was starting to have doubts about Chuck, about whether he was telling the whole truth'." Sam snaps at him to stop it, his irritation levels rising fast, but Dean keeps reading. "'Stop it, Sam said.' Guess what you do next."



Refusing to play this game, Sam glares at him and turns around to continue futzing with his laundry.

"'Sam turned his back on Dean'," Dean reads, "'his face brooding and pensive.' I mean, I don't know how he's doing it, but this guy is doing it. I can't see your face, but those are definitely your brooding and pensive shoulders."

Hee.

Keeping his back to his brother, Sam glowers. Dean looks back down at the page and frowns. "You just thought I was a dick."



Now Sam decides to be impressed with the insight of the written word, because, yes – that was the gist of what he was thinking. "Guy's good," he allows, although Dean doesn't look thrilled that this is what convinced him. And…this scene is played for laughs, but that reaction right there, confirmation that yes, Sam was thinking smack about his brother, even though Dean could have guessed it himself and would probably apply the same description to his own behaviour at that moment…it's uncomfortable, because even through the blur of Chuck's interpretation of what he sees, those pages provide the brothers with unfiltered insight into one another's thoughts. But private thoughts are private for a reason, so it's kind of invasive. It's another reason to be disturbed by the existence of these books and Chuck's continued writing of them.



Chuck's house

Drunk again, Chuck has fallen asleep at his desk, but he is not sleeping peacefully. Images flash through his mind: a grim-faced Sam in a motel room with a woman, who sits on the bed and pats it invitingly, runs her hand up his thigh, eyes demon-white, Sam slowly lowering himself onto the bed with her…

Chuck wakes up with a start and looks horrified, and I wonder: have his visions always been like this? Or is it worse for him this time because he knows now that what he sees is real, not merely the product of his fevered and alcohol-fuelled imagination?

Morning

Hey, that framed poster Chuck has on his wall is the cover of one of the comics! So…does that mean Chuck's books also have an attached spin-off comic series, which may or may not comply with the continuity of the series?

Chuck has invited Dean and Sam around so that he can tell them about his latest creative/visionary offering, because he clearly feels weirdly responsible for them now that he knows that they are real people and that he is writing their actual future rather than just fantasy/horror fiction. "This was all so much easier before you were real," he moans. Dean assures him that they can take it, if he just spits it out, but Chuck still hesitates, flicking wary side eyes at him. "You especially are not going to like this," he warns.

"I didn't like hell," Dean deadpans, and ouch. He doesn't talk about hell much, but when he does, little zingers like that speak far louder than any amount of hand wringing ever could. It's all about what's unsaid. Understatement for the win!



Chuck sighs and spits it out. "It's Lilith. She's coming for Sam."

Okay, so this moment right here is where the episode really kicks into gear, because…damn but all the issues both brothers have had simmering away in the background for what seems like forever come straight into sharp, sharp focus right on the spot, just like that.

The reactions of each brother just to the idea of Lilith being in town are hugely revealing. Dean is fearful and concerned. "Coming…to kill him?" he queries, worried.

But Sam's eyes light up something rather more akin to eagerness. "When?" he asks, stepping toward Chuck all aglow with anticipation. Chuck says tonight and Sam looks pleased. He wants to confront Lilith. He's wanted that fight for a long time. He feels ready. He wants it all to be over already.

"She's just going to show up, here?" frowns Dean, alarmed.

Sitting down, Chuck puts his specs on and finds the page in question, starts to read. "Lilith patted the bed seductively," he begins, and Dean executes a perfect double take – whatever he was expecting to hear, that wasn't it. "Unable to deny his desire," Chuck continues, "Sam succumbed and they sank into the throes of fiery demonic passion."

Say what again?

Sam laughs out loud…but then realises no one else seems to see the joke. "You're kidding me, right?" he splutters, utterly incredulous, because he has been hell bent for leather on revenge against Lilith for months now, hates her more than he has ever hated anything since Azazel – more than Azazel, even. The idea of him sinking into 'fiery demonic passion' with her is preposterous.



But. "You think this is funny?" Dean reproves, and, oh man, he is taking this very seriously. Sam has been lying to him for months, sneaking around behind his back with a demon, and once upon a time he might have laughed at this as loud as Sam, but he can't tell any more what Sam might or might not do, has been forced to stand by helplessly and watch while his brother hurtles down that slippery slope that looks to be leading to the dark side, and it just really hurts to see this manifestation of all that broken trust.

"You don't?" Sam retorts. "Come on! 'Fiery demonic passion'?"

"It's just a first draft," Chuck self-consciously interjects, and hee, yeah, that one is funny. It is also a reminder that what Chuck is sharing with the brothers here is not the final product. The vision – prophecy – is incomplete at this stage. Nothing is written in stone. And yet he is pretty definite about what he saw and what it meant, expects to change only the semantics with which he describes it.

"Wait, wait, wait." Dean is freaking out over all kinds of things about the scenario Chuck is painting here, so deals with them one at a time. First and foremost is the issue of the form Lilith usually chooses to take. "Lilith is a little girl."

Chuck shakes his head and refers back to the first draft he is clutching. "No. This time she's a 'comely dental hygienist from Bloomington, Indiana'."

Comely dental hygienist instead of little girl means that Sam's predicted fiery demonic passion with the brothers' deadliest foe is rather more of a possibility.

"Great," frets Dean, voice tight and face grim, because he is prepared to believe this. Sam has already admitted to having sex with one demon that Dean doesn't trust further than he can spit, after all, has been evasive and deceptive, aloof and increasingly ruthless, and Dean has been worrying about what this means for months. Sam has been not only exercising his demon-given psychic abilities but strengthening them, and Dean doesn't know how, knows only that half the time he barely even recognises his little brother any more and that, after the crazy rollercoaster ride this season has been, just about anything seems possible at this stage. "Perfect. So what happens after the…fiery, demonic…whatever?" he reluctantly, angrily asks, biting the words out.



Chuck doesn't know. "It hasn't come to me yet," he apologises, and that's a fairly important point right there. Chuck's vision was incomplete. He saw only part of the encounter between Sam and Lilith, saw how it begins, but not how it ends.

"Dean, look – there's nothing to worry about," Sam placates, still incredulous at the bizarre and incomprehensible turn this conversation has taken. "Lilith and me? In bed?"

Sam's whole attitude has changed since the fiery demonic passion was mentioned, especially since he realised Dean was taking the prediction so seriously. Gone is his delight at the prospect of an imminent confrontation with Lilith, replaced by utter incredulity and increasing desperation to reassure his brother that never in a million years could the predicted fiery demonic passion take place, not with Lilith, whose bloody head he wants on a platter so very much.

Once upon a time Dean wouldn't have doubted Sam for a moment – but then again, once upon a time he would never have believed that Sam would sleep with Ruby, either. He just cannot trust Sam any more – can't trust his word and can't trust his judgement – and that hurts, even as it satisfies, in storytelling terms, because this is the consequence, painful, hard-earned consequence, of every lie Sam has told him. And Sam is so dismayed to see how little his brother trusts him, but he has brought it on himself by the choices that he has made, has been pushing Dean away for months, and he's so damn isolated now, no one on his side except Ruby, who is manipulating him for her own ends, and just…damn. This scene completely encapsulates everything that has disintegrated in their relationship this season. It has been painful to watch it unfold on screen, but the development has been amazing, and with these issues now beginning to be openly addressed it feels like we are finally getting somewhere, slowly building up to the eventual pay-off, as shattering as it is likely to be.

So, Dean doesn't know what to believe, but right now he is prepared to believe that just about anything is possible, either way. Shooting grim and severe side eyes at his brother, he carries on questioning Chuck, wanting as much information as possible on which to base his judgement. "How does this whole psychic thing of yours work?"

Chuck rather primly corrects that it is his process, rather than a psychic thing, which amuses me, and explains. "Well, it usually starts with a headache – a really bad headache. Aspirin is useless, so…I drink. Until I fall asleep. The first time it happened I thought it was just a crazy dream." The first time he dreamt about the brothers, Dean clarifies, and Chuck nods. "It flowed. It just – it kept flowing. It still does. I can't stop it, really."



You know, I really like Chuck. He kinda reminds me of Andy, of whom I was also extremely fond, and his story fills me with all kinds of questions. Such as – was he already a writer before he started having these prophetic visions, or did he become a writer because of them? The former seems most likely, which in turn leads me to wonder what his previous work was like and how far the Supernatural series is a departure from that style. I also wonder if he already had an alcohol abuse problem before the visions started, or if it developed because of the visions. Plus, I realise I've already mentioned in more than one recap how much it bugs me that fans have been casually describing Dean as an alcoholic because they saw him get drunk once, but nevertheless it has to be mentioned again here, because Chuck stands as clear and present evidence of someone who actually does have an alcohol abuse problem: relying heavily on alcohol to get through every day, not just the really difficult ones, using it as an anaesthetic, turning to it for comfort at the slightest provocation, waking up still drunk from the night before and then drinking more, and so on. It is a pattern of behaviour that Dean very plainly does not follow, and never has. Case closed!

So. Chuck has been having these prophetic visions, but has been deep in denial about what was happening, because it was crazy, and so reasoned that he was making all this stuff up, because he is a genius, rather than acknowledge that the stories were arriving in his brain fully formed and needing only to be written down. I wonder if knowing the truth will affect his 'process' in any way, now he knows that rather than just having vivid dreams to interpret as he will, he is having visions of actual flesh and blood people, people he has met and interacted with, knows as individuals. Does interacting with his 'characters' affect his ability to write about them objectively? After all, the observer inseparability theory states that objective observation from outside a system is not possible, that the act of observing makes the observer part of the system under study – the act of observing impacts on the observer. Once Chuck has become a part of the story, in other words, he can't go back, can't ever view his work or the characters therein in the same way again – his actions and reactions in this episode prove that. It makes me wonder if there will be a change of style in his work from this point on that is visible to future readers.

And there are also related concepts there to do with observer dependence – the concept that knowledge of reality is dependent upon the perceptions of the observer. The detail of what Chuck writes matters, because what is written down is what becomes accepted as 'true'. At this stage, Chuck clearly believes that Sam and Lilith will have sex, so that is how he has written his new chapter…but is this how the final draft will read, or merely a preliminary interpretation based on an incomplete vision? Will he see more later that allows him to complete the work accurately? Will he amend his work based on his own experiences in this episode? Or will the story remain as it currently stands, whether proved right or not? It all takes me back to my earlier musings on the development of folklore and mythology, wherein what is accepted as true by future generations is what is written down, rather than what actually happened. The role of the scribe is a very important one, and I would like to think that Chuck will take it a lot more seriously in the future, once he understands just what is happening, that it's not just about writing a good story, but keeping a historical record of actual events.

Sam is still laughing, unable to believe that anyone would take this seriously, and not knowing how else to react because all the arguing in the world is not going to change the fact that Dean doesn't trust him any more. "You can't seriously believe –" he begins.



"Humour me," Dean snaps, standing up. "Look, why don't we just –" He stops in his tracks when he sees Chuck holding out the pages bearing this latest chapter. "Take a look at these and see what's what," he finishes, taking the papers, while Sam shakes his head in disbelief. "You –"

"Knew you were going to ask for that," Chuck nods.

You know, it's really kind of hard to fully understand how Chuck's thing works, based on the tiny glimpses we've had. There is so much minute detail that he gets exactly right, and yet other, bigger details – such as Sam's foreseen interaction with Lilith – seem less complete and therefore entirely open to misleading interpretation.

Road

The Impala zooms along, two very disgruntled Winchesters inside.

"Dean, come on," Sam argues, Chuck's new chapter in hand. He mockingly reads aloud, voice positively dripping with derision. "The minivan accident wasn't that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars. He scratched absently at the pink flower bandaids on his face." Dean chuckles and refuses to be drawn, and Sam explodes. "I've seen you gushing blood – you'd use duct tape and bar rags before you'd put on a pink flower band aid!"



Oh, now I really want to see Dean gushing blood and self-ministering to his wounds with duct tape and bar rags! So unhygienic – which Sam could point out to him! Come on, you know it would be a truly awesome scene!

"What's your point?" Dean gruffs.

"My point is this – all of this – is totally implausible!" Sam insists. "It's nuts."



"He's been right about everything so far," Dean points out. "You think he's just going to ground out at first now?"

I really like the consistency that Sam has been sceptical from the start while Dean has been prepared to believe and be impressed from the start, and that those two differing standpoints have suddenly become this huge bone of contention, because this is no longer about what Chuck has written about their past, but what he has written about their future, which is both considerably more disturbing and pretty much impossible to quantify at this stage. It becomes all about how far they are prepared to trust one another, or to compromise for one another, and that right there is a very thorny issue indeed these days.

Sam starts reading again. "Dean slid behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drove off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow."

Dean blinks. "A tarp?"

"Yeah. On the rear window. And you drive it like that," Sam disbelieves.

Dean's having a hard time believing this one, too, and it absolutely kills me that he is more prepared to believe he would wear pink flower bandaids than that he would ever drive the Impala with a tarp over the window. "Well, he might be wrong about the details," he grudgingly allows, "but it doesn't mean he's wrong about the end result."

"So we're just going to run?" Sam grumbles.

"We are a long way from ready for a face-to-face death match with Lilith," Dean fiercely insists.



Oh, man – this is a very familiar argument. The brothers keep coming back to this fundamental difference of opinion, but this is the most openly and honestly they have ever discussed it, no yelling and no supernatural interference to first force the issue and then hide behind. Just this very simple, basic issue laid bare: Sam sees flight where Dean sees strategic retreat.

Sam sighs and rolls his eyes. Note that he isn't arguing this course of action, though, not at this stage. He isn't insisting that they stay and confront Lilith in spite of what Chuck has written, even though he has been spoiling for that fight ever since Dean died. He is willing to let Dean have his way on this one, because Dean is freaking out about Chuck's predictions and trying to soothe those troubled waters is what matters right now, might help Sam regain a little lost ground, rebuild a little trust…but he's not happy about it.

Just a few moments later, however, the brothers run into a roadblock and stop to ask what's going on. It seems the bridge ahead is out, and it is the only way out of town, no detours. No side roads to take them to the highway – to get to the highway they have to cross the river, which means taking that bridge, which they can't do. So the brothers are going to have to spend the night in town. Apparently.

Which, um…what? So, this town is, like, some kind of island? A bottleneck, completely ring-fenced, with only the one way in and out? Seriously?

Right. Okay. Whatever. We'll just go with it. The important point to note is that fate is making itself felt, despite initial attempts at subverting Chuck's prediction.

Diner

The Diner is called Kripke's Hollow Diner. For real. So does that mean that this town is called Kripke's Hollow? Mwahahahah. Marvellous.

Sam sits studying the menu while Dean takes his turn browsing the pages of Chuck's new chapter. "Hey, this could be a good thing," he decides at length. "I mean, if this is what puts us on the path to Lilith, then all we've got to do is get off the path. It's a blueprint of what not to do. If the pages say that we go left…"



"Then we go right," Sam finishes for him, in measured tones. And again – we saw how much he wants to confront Lilith, but still, for now at least he is willing to play along with Dean's fervent desire not to. He doesn't want to rock the boat, since the whole fiery demonic passion thing is wigging them both out.

"Exactly," Dean agrees, pleased with his deductions. "We get off-book, we never make it to the end. It's Opposite Day. It says that we, uh, we get into a fight. So, no fighting." Sam nods, willing enough to agree to these terms, and Dean scans another page. "No research for you," he adds.

"No bacon cheeseburger for you," Sam rather smugly chips in, which amuses me immensely, for the implication that bacon cheeseburgers for Dean are the equivalent of research for Sam, so that if Sam has to give up something he values then so does Dean, and also because he looks so pleased with himself for finding such a harmless way of poking fun at his brother, so that this particular little detail is as much about winding Dean up as it is changing the course of the day, because he knows Dean can't refuse, because Opposite Day was Dean's idea. And it is just so brotherly and normal and really unusual for Sam of late, and it comes as such a relief to see him making the effort to meet his brother halfway, trying to play at normal. It's A Terrible Life was a salutary reminder for Sam, too, of the relationship they used to have and that they both miss so much.



Dean hesitates for just a beat, because he really loves bacon cheeseburgers, before agreeing to order something else, no problem. With that, the waitress arrives – and promptly declares the bacon cheeseburger the best thing on the menu, much to Dean's chagrin.

Chuckling, Sam orders a cob salad, thus vindicating every viewer who has ever believed that Sam is totally the type who would eat salad for preference. Then, grimacing his reluctance, and shooting reproachful side eyes at his brother, Dean determinedly orders a veggie tofu burger, as the most direct opposite to the bacon cheeseburger he can come up with. And his face! His face is a picture. And Sam! Sam's face is likewise a picture, because he is so very amused by his own success at having made Dean order something he would never, ever voluntarily choose to eat under normal circumstances, and he's also kind of impressed that Dean actually went through with it. And then Dean gives him fierce 'and?' eyes, having gone through with it and made his minor sacrifice in deference to this being his idea and Sam not really wanting to do any of it, and, just…oh, boys. We must make the most of these snippets of utter brotherliness, because they are so few and far between these days.

"This whole thing's ridiculous," Sam snorts as the waitress leaves. He's been going along with Dean so far, but he still isn't taking any of it seriously – not Chuck's prediction, not Dean's evasive manoeuvres, none of it.



"Lilith is ridiculous?" Dean frowns. Dean is taking this very seriously, so it piques him that Sam doesn't, his brother's dismissive attitude reminiscent of his recent lies and evasiveness and therefore more worrying than reassuring.



"The idea of me hooking up with her is," Sam firmly insists. He's thought the very notion of that was laughable from the start, because it is – he hates Lilith with a fiery passion, is obsessed with exacting vengeance upon her. And yet…Chuck saw what he saw, and we saw it too. But we caught only vague glimpses of that scene, easy to misinterpret, without any wider context.

"Right. 'Cause something like that could never happen," Dean bitterly mocks, because once upon a time he would never have believed that Sam would hook up with Ruby, and yet it happened, and once upon a time he never would have believed that Sam would actively experiment with his demon-given powers, and yet he now does, so he really cannot tell what Sam will or won't do these days. He feels as if he doesn't know his brother at all any more.

And…because the brothers know about Chuck's prediction, it has become all either one can see, this one particular detail standing out in neon lights, blinding them both, so that their whole attention is focused around either preventing or denying it, instead of stepping back and trying to find a way of regaining some kind of objectivity about the situation as a whole.

While Dean returns his attention to Chuck's writing, Sam, stung by that little dig at his relationship with Ruby, the backhanded accusation of untrustworthiness – which he really has brought on himself – looks as if he would dearly love to argue the point and defend himself. But he agreed: no fighting. Not today. Not when an argument is among Chuck's predictions for the day, which they are trying to find a way around.

Except that he just can't let this go, because he doesn't believe a word of what Chuck wrote about him hooking up with Lilith but he does believe the prediction that she will be in town – which is kind of contradictory, no? But what each brother chooses to believe and focuses on most strongly is very much based around their own personal issues. Sam is itching to confront Lilith. He never was the most patient guy ever. And Chuck's prediction places her here, in this town, this very night. "Dean, for the first time we have warning that Lilith is close," he points out, and then waits for Dean to react to this careful initial gambit.

Dean obliges. "So?"

"So." Given the opening to make his point, Sam proceeds to do just that. "We've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where… This is an opportunity."

"Are you –?" Dean fiercely begins, but then catches himself. No fighting. Not today. It was his rule, after all. He takes a moment to compose himself, before picking his words oh-so very carefully. "It frustrates me when you say such reckless things."

Sam rolls his eyes. "Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide than fight," he snaps.



Ouch. That is basically a repeat of the accusations he flung at Dean under the siren's influence, but this time there is no supernatural force at play, so that nothing hurtful said here can later be denied away. The brothers are finally, finally having an actual conversation about at least one of the major issues hanging between them, plain and simple, no external factors clouding the picture. Sam thinks Dean is too cautious since his return from hell. Dean thinks Sam is not cautious enough since his time alone. Sam wants Dean to be more gung-ho. Dean wants Sam to be less gung-ho. East is east and west is west, and never the twain shall meet, and all that. They could meet in the middle, find a place to stand that is neither too reckless nor too cautious, but right now neither one can see where to even begin looking for that place.

So, Dean thinks that Sam's gung-ho desire to rush headlong into battle with Lilith is reckless, that by so doing his brother would be leaving himself wide open to all kinds of danger – the danger of Lilith besting him in battle, the danger of Lilith somehow seducing him as Chuck foresaw, the danger of Sam's continued use of his psychic powers corrupting him or backfiring on him, the danger of Sam slip-sliding over to the dark side – which could be tied in with that predicted seduction. It is dangerous all around, but Sam shows no sign of appreciating any of those dangers, and that scares Dean. The changes in Sam scare him more than Lilith does, because he does not know where they are leading, but fears the worst because those changes are mostly manifesting in highly negative ways. Sleeping with a demon. Sneaking around with a demon. Lies. Deception. Evasion. Coldness. Ruthlessness. Recklessness. Yep, from where Dean is standing he has every reason to be concerned.

Sam, in contrast, sees only the opportunity afforded by this situation. He has waited months for a chance to take out Lilith, has been spoiling to take her on all season. He has held back out of deference for Dean's caution and to allow his own power time to build and grow, as well as because Lilith is hard to track down, but the longer they've waited the more frustrated he has become, because the build-up is both hard and costly and he desperately wants to get it all over with. And now here she is. And he is right that they can't run forever. Lilith has been actively breaking Seals left, right and centre, each one bringing the world one step closer to the Apocalypse. She needs to be stopped, and nobody else seems either willing or capable of achieving it.

But Sam does not seem prepared to take any other factors into consideration, such as the fact that Lilith must be here for a reason, no doubt also knows full well that the brothers are here also, and therefore won't be taken by surprise at all – in fact will more than likely be planning something herself, could have all kinds of nasty tricks up her sleeve. Or the fact that Chuck has been right about every other detail so far, which means that the scene of fiery demonic passion he predicted is surely going to play out at some point, in some form, however ludicrous it sounds, and denying it doesn't change that fact.

Dean holds Sam's eyes silently for a long moment, fierce and hurt, because Sam is essentially calling him a coward, again, and this time it is coming from him alone, can't be blamed on any outside influence, this is what Sam thinks of him, after everything he has been through and survived. Sam stares back, unrepentant but increasingly uncomfortable.



Dean thinks that Sam is sliding toward the dark side. Sam thinks that Dean is weak and cowardly. Who is right? Who is wrong? Maybe both. Maybe neither.

Also? I'm afraid that despite all their best intentions, this totally counts as a fight. Another of Chuck's predictions has come true.

Fortunately, the waitress returns with their order to interrupt this moment of escalating tension, forestalling any further debate and giving both brothers a chance to cool off and regroup, just for a moment.

The moment she is gone, though, Dean leans toward Sam and fiercely defends his decision to avoid Lilith. "It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight."



Once upon a time, Sam might have spoken those words. The Sam that we first met, way back when, was the consummate strategist who saw charging into battle half-cocked as the option of last resort only, preferring to carefully plan in advance, seeking out the most effective tactics to deploy against each enemy to minimise the danger to all concerned – both to himself and his family, and to any victims in the offing. Dean was the brother who tended to fly by the seat of his pants, operating more off instinct and intuition than anything else.

Yet now the roles have reversed completely, Sam becoming the gung-ho shoot-first-ask-questions-later brother, while Dean hangs back to weigh up pros and cons. But this change has not come out of the blue. It has developed slowly but surely over the course of four seasons, as a result of everything the characters have been through, while the seeds of that change were in each of their personalities from the start – in fact, this entire argument almost exactly mirrors the argument the brothers had at the start of Devil's Trap, whether they realise it or not. Then, too, Sam wanted to dive headlong into a potentially suicidal death-match with his deadliest foe without stopping to think twice, while Dean, terrified of losing his family, argued in favour of re-grouping and strategising.

Everything the brothers have each become has stemmed completely and utterly from the combination of who they always were and what they have been through. Dean has always taken generic danger in his stride, and still does, but any threat that is more personal and specific to his family has always been a source of great alarm, prompting a more careful and cautious approach. Likewise, Sam has always been mild, measured and sympathetic, yet has also always had that more reckless, vengeful streak that came out whenever danger or tragedy struck too close to home. Dean's shattering experiences in hell, and the fact that so much about the approaching Apocalypse is highly personal and specific to his family, have brought the more cautious side of his personality very much to the fore these days. The stakes are just too high all the time to risk any misstep on this. For Sam, though, this very personal stake in the wider picture has the opposite effect. He has come to feel that he cannot afford either caution or compassion, instead focusing almost exclusively on ruthlessness, revenge and victory at any cost.

So, should the brothers stay and face Lilith, or should they attempt to evade her? Chuck's prediction appears to suggest that the confrontation is inevitable, but Dean is right when he says that they are not ready. Sam has a lot of power, more every time he drinks Ruby's blood, apparently, but where his head is at right now? His thought processes and motivations are getting more and more clouded by the episode, and that kind of blurred judgement is dangerous to take into any battle.

A divided team is also dangerous to take into any battle. Somehow, the brothers need to find a way of coming together to take on the enemy as a unified force. They just don't seem to know how to do that at the moment, with no compromise seeming possible between their standpoints.

Sam looks sullen, but doesn't attempt to argue any further – there is nothing more he can say to sway Dean to his way of thinking on this matter. He can't persuade Dean to fight Lilith. He could try forcing him, but however ruthless Sam has become and however much he longs for that battle, he isn't ready to try browbeating his brother into submission on the issue, not yet. Pick your battles, Dean said, so that's what Sam does right here. It's Lilith he wants to fight, not Dean. He's not happy about having to back down, though.



Having made his point, Dean digs into his veggie tofu burger – and take note! Sam is also eating! He puts food into his mouth and chews!

Dean is amazed at how delicious the burger is, and is still raving about the amazing tofu when the waitress appears to whip the plate away. It seems she screwed up Dean's order and gave him the bacon cheeseburger by mistake. The brothers gaze at one another in dismay. Once again, Chuck's prediction has caught up with them, despite all efforts to thwart it. No matter what they do, one by one every detail is coming true, the walls of fate seemingly closing in all around them.

Toreador Motel

"Dude. This place charges by the hour," Sam disbelieves as Dean drives them up to the sleaziest motel he could find.

"Yeah, well, the book says Lilith finds you at the Red Motel," says Dean. "Hence the, uh, hooker inn. It's Opposite Day, remember."

Oh, bless him, he is just so, so determined to thwart that prediction, in spite of the mounting evidence that fate will run its course no matter what he attempts to avoid it. It has been quite some time since we saw Dean so resolute and pro-active – and it is no coincidence that it is a threat to Sam prompting this drive and determination. Dean is a guy who needs to be needed. As screwed up as it is, if Sam is threatened or distressed in any way, Dean is able to push aside his own fears and trauma to do whatever it takes to resolve things for his brother. Being needed is what allows Dean to function in spite of being broken, and being needed is exactly what he has been lacking all season. It has been increasingly obvious pretty much since the season premiere just how much Sam does not need his brother any more, how much he doesn't want to need his brother any more, and as a result Dean has been left to flounder, drowning in his own issues. But now, with what Dean perceives as a clear and present threat to Sam right on the horizon, whether Sam is concerned or cooperative or not, Dean has snapped right out of his recent depression and apathy and back into clear, decisive action. Sam in peril provides Dean with clarity of thought like nothing else.

Once the brothers have checked into their room, Dean rifles through his duffle to find a handful of hex bags, which he then determinedly sets out around the room to prevent Lilith finding them.

I'm going to assume that those are the hex bags Ruby provided the brothers with, way back when, to shield them from Lilith, but now I'm wondering how they work, exactly. I mean, do they have to be spaced out around the room like that? Just stuffing them into a pocket has always seemed pretty effective in the past! So I'm going to guess that leaving them in the bag would have worked just as well – but the plot demanded that Dean make a point of placing them out in plain view.

"So, what – I'm supposed to just hole up here all night?" Sam protests. Back in the diner he was sullen, but now he is beginning to get angry. Sam has always resented being treated like a kid, hates not being trusted to make his own decisions or to know the difference between right and wrong – more especially now that he is walking that moral tightrope with Ruby, because any slur on his judgement threatens the foundations of those walls of justification he has built up around his actions.



"That's exactly what you're going to do," Dean firmly states. "And no research. I don't care what you do. Use the magic fingers or watch Casa Erotica on pay-per-view…" He stops dead, spotting one of the bags Sam has brought in with him. It's the laptop, which he promptly confiscates, much to Sam's dismay. "Just call it a little insurance," he insists.

Sam sullenly asks what Dean is going to do, and he announces that since the pages say he spends all day driving around in the Impala, he is going to go and park her.

But…the Impala is already parked, right there outside their motel room. So, in order to avoid driving around in her, Dean is going to drive around in her. That makes no sense! If he really wanted to do the opposite of what was written, he'd leave the car right where it is and stay in that room with Sam, thus preventing him ever being alone with Lilith.

On the other hand, though, I do love the call back to Bad Day At Black Rock that this scene provides, Dean determinedly getting Sam set up in a motel room and then charging off to sort things out.

"Behave yourself, would you?" is Dean's parting shot. "No homework. Watch some porn."

Heh. Dean thinks about what he just said, the irony and reverse-parentalism of it, and smirks as he heads out. Oh, Dean. He is still trying so hard to play at normal, poking fun at Sam with a bit of light-hearted teasing and banter, like old times, even as the immense differences between the brothers undermine those efforts totally.

Left alone, Sam glowers morosely at the door.



This sullenness at being ordered around is such a classic Sam reaction, accentuated now because he's become so accustomed to doing his own thing. But, you know, he can't have it both ways. He can't have both a Dean who is a decisive action man and a Dean who hangs back and lets him do whatever he wants. He wants his cake and eat it too – he wants Dean to be strong and bold and not broken any more, but he also wants his brother to meekly follow along with what Sam wants to do, without argument, because Sam is convinced that he is right and can't face the thought of serious self-examination.

Not that Dean being bossy has ever really stopped Sam from doing whatever the hell he wants to do, of course, least of all this season.

Outside, as Dean drives away from the motel, we focus on the sign. Toreador Motel. But as he peels out of the parking lot, however, that neon sign shorts out, turning 'Toreador' into 'Red'.

Red Motel – where Chuck predicted that Sam's encounter with Lilith would take place. And Dean has just unwittingly left Sam alone there. The wheels of fate continue to thwart all efforts at subverting them.

Street

Although it remains unclear why Dean was reluctant to leave the Impala parked outside the motel, he seems satisfied with the new parking spot he has found for it, in a nearby street – and actually locks and checks the door before walking away.

Remember the days when that car never seemed to be locked, ever?



Satisfied, Dean turns and wanders away – maybe heading back to the motel, maybe heading somewhere else entirely. We will never know, for he glances back toward the Impala just in time to see a couple of youths attempting to break into it with crowbars! In broad daylight and everything! Vandals!

Outraged, naturally enough, Dean shouts and hurries back over the road to remonstrate with the heartless delinquents for desecrating his pride and joy…but walks straight into the path of an oncoming minivan, which sends him flying. Ouch!

That's the second time now that a car has hit Dean – but fortunately this one wasn't going as fast as the one that killed him in Mystery Spot. Even so, as he tumbles to the ground he hits his head and is knocked out.



Motel

Chuck arrives at the motel and knocks tentatively at the door.

"You wanted to see me?" he warily asks when Sam answers, and Sam nods and invites him in, thanks him for coming, and wow – Sam really is a giant standing alongside Chuck.

Locking the door once more, Sam shuffles awkwardly, trying to find the right words to ask the question he needs to ask without betraying his anxiety and desperation. Chuck sees everything. He has been right about everything. And Sam has a massive, massive secret that he is terrified his brother will find out.



"I was just wondering how much you know? About me?" he dully asks at last, eyes downcast. Ashamed, because asking the question means confessing what he is doing – means admitting out loud that he is conflicted about what he is doing, because if he was really sure, it wouldn't be such a secret – and he has never spoken about this to anyone other than Ruby, who eggs him on. Saying it out loud makes it real. Still wary, Chuck wonders what he means, and Sam is forced to spell it out a little more clearly. "Have you seen visions of me? When I'm not with Dean?"

"Oh." Chuck fidgets. "You want to know if I know about the demon blood."

Hearing the words spoken out loud, Sam has to look away again, on the verge of choking up with emotion before he clamps down on it, hard. Sam has become very good at repressing his emotions, and it is not healthy. "You didn't tell Dean," he observes, and it isn't a question, and yet it is.

"I didn't even write it into the books," Chuck quietly says, and, you know – I really, really like Chuck. He's a drunk and he's in over his head and he knows it, but he's basically a good person. He feels a sense of responsibility for the brothers. He cares. "I was afraid it would make you look unsympathetic," he adds.

"Unsympathetic?" Sam snits, offended, because he's been tying himself in knots over what he's doing, has convinced himself that it is the only way forward, that everything he is doing is for the best, that his motives are sound…and along comes Chuck telling him that he comes across as unsympathetic.



I really, really love this conversation. As wary as I am of self-referentialism and internal meta in general, I love the concept of the writer sitting down with his character and telling him that the way he is behaving makes him appear unsympathetic, nudging him to explain himself and to confront his decision-making process in a way that hasn't been possible previously, given the narrative constraints of the televisual medium. The breakdown of Sam's relationship with Dean has meant that he no longer has a natural confidante, and I love how this scene gets around that problem by making use of Chuck as an objective third party to provide Sam with a sounding board, thereby neatly providing us with access to his unfiltered thoughts for the first time in a very long time.

It is a fabulous piece of internal meta, because having Chuck set up as a writer concerned about his character, trying to understand him better, allows the writers of the Show to address this issue: that the path they have sent Sam down has prevented them from openly examining his innermost thoughts and motivations, thus keeping the bulk of his character exploration at a surface level only. His motivations have been readable enough based on his behaviour and what we know of his character, but only to those who know him well. To anyone lacking that insight, yeah, this cold and ruthless Sam does look unsympathetic – heck, even those who know him well have struggled at times, he's become so closed-off – but it stands to reason that Sam, despite being the one so consciously keeping all the secrets and locking his emotions away, would be shocked to realise that this course of action, which he entered into with the best of intentions for making the world a better place for everyone, would appear unsympathetic to anyone.

"Yeah. Come on, Sam," Chuck mildly protests. "I mean, sucking blood? You've got to know that's wrong."



Fabulous. I love that he just comes out and says it, what everyone has been thinking, but also that he says it without condemnation or judgement, sounds sympathetic and concerned, and so is able to gently nudge Sam toward opening up about what he is doing. It is the first opportunity Sam has had to talk about how he truly feels all season. Dean has given him plenty of openings, sure, but Sam has always forced himself to remain on his guard around his brother, even when he opened up and talked about his summer of grief, because he has always had this deep, dark secret to protect. Because of that secret, because he believes that Dean needs him to be strong, in spite of the fact that he can see how much his reserve and deception hurts his brother, Sam keeps up a permanent façade of steely resolve in Dean's presence. He keeps it up in front of Ruby, too, because he is trying to be the implacable soldier she wants him to be, in order to win the war, and because she is a demon and their relationship remains adversarial, despite their twisted intimacy. But with Chuck, an outsider, because he already knows the worst, which means there is no reason for Sam to maintain that front, he is finally able to let those walls drop and unburden himself.

And it is great characterisation for Sam, because we have seen so many times in the past how little it often takes for Dean to persuade him to unburden himself, but Sam has been denying himself that outlet all season, because he doesn't want to burden Dean, because he is afraid of how Dean will react, and because he closed himself off so completely while Dean was dead and can't find his way back from that. But then along comes Chuck, a neutral outsider from whom he has both nothing to hide and nothing to fear, and out it comes.



Sam has to look away once again, eyes threatening to fill up, but no more than threatening. He's in control of his emotions, at least – he's had plenty of practice. "It scares the hell out of me," he reluctantly admits, sitting down and staring out of the window. He admitted way back in Lazarus Rising that he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, but he said it to Ruby, who has a vested interest in persuading him to continue down this road. Lacking any more impartial sounding board, or any plausible alternative course of action, unable to confide in his brother, he has been repressing his concerns ever since he resumed his 'training' with Ruby. "I feel it, inside of me," he murmurs, unable to look Chuck in the eye. "I wish to God I could stop."

It is easy to say you'd like to be able to stop doing something, though, but for that sentiment to mean anything you have to want to do it, have to want to stop. And Sam doesn't. For whatever reason, rightly or wrongly, he doesn't want to stop, even as he wishes he could. He's not in control of it any more.

"But you keep going back," Chuck points out, still striking the perfect tone for this conversation: non-judgemental, but concerned, because he thinks Sam is making a mistake and is trying, very gently, to get him to see it too.

"What choice have I got?" Sam insists. "If it helps me kill Lilith and stop the Apocalypse –"



What choice have I got? That simple question tells us so much about Sam's desperate state of mind. Everything that he says in this scene is more or less what we had all predicted, but hearing him finally say it out loud makes his motivations and inner conflict so much more concrete. He is scared, but he doesn't feel he has any choice other than the path he is pursuing – Sam, to who control over his own life and destiny has always been so important, more important than the impact his choices had on other people, even his nearest and dearest, who has always pursued that freedom and independence with laser focus.

It's just so messed up, because you can see clearly that he really doesn't feel he has any choice, because every choice that he has made so far has ended up leading him inexorably back to the same place: the demon blood flowing through his veins and the dark destiny it seems to run hand in hand with. So, on the one hand he has given up and given into that destiny, decided to embrace it and attempt to bend it to his own ends – achieve something good out of something bad – because he feels he has no other choice. The demon blood is not going to go away. Someone has to kill Lilith and stop the Apocalypse, and if the demon blood means that Sam is best placed to achieve that then so be it. It has to be done and no one else seems willing or able to do it. No choice.

But on the other hand, the fact that he made that decision demonstrates that he clearly does have a choice. He had a choice back in the summer when Dean was dead. He could have accepted his brother's death and moved on, but instead he chose to listen to Ruby when she offered him the chance of avenging Dean. He had a choice when he decided to lie to Dean about his powers. He had a choice in Metamorphosis when he decided to give it all up for fear of what it was doing to him – he even said it himself, it's my choice. And when he later went back on that resolve and returned to first the exercise of his powers and then later to their enhancement by ingesting more demon blood, that was also a choice. They might none of them have been good choices, but they were still choices that Sam made – and making them allowed him to feel a little more in control of his life and destiny once more, even as he tells himself that he has no other choice than the choices that he has made.

Like I said, it's all so messed up.

"I thought that was Dean's job," Chuck shrugs. "That's what the angels say, right?"

Sam is not surprised to hear this. He clearly knows all about Dean and the Apocalypse, the righteous man who started it and therefore the only one who can stop it. That makes sense. For all that I can't see Dean opening up to Sam about his feelings again any time soon, it figures that he would not have tried to keep this vital piece of information secret from his brother once he knew. Dean has had a determined policy of openness and honesty going on all season, in direct contrast to Sam's secrets and lies, plus he was too beaten down at the end of On The Head Of A Pin to try to hide anything, even if he wanted to.

Sam doesn't like being reminded about this little detail, though – doesn't like the thought of Dean being the only one who can stop the Apocalypse. It doesn't jibe with the justifications he has built up for what he is doing, his belief that he has to take the burden of this war from his brother completely rather than share the load by fighting at his side, his perception that Dean is weak in comparison to his own strength, his conviction that he, Sam, is the only one who can end this, because that's what Ruby's been telling him, after all, and if it isn't true, if everything that he has done and sacrificed was for naught, leads only to failure…well, he just isn't prepared to face up to what that might mean.

"Dean's not… He's not Dean lately," Sam earnestly says. "Ever since he got out of hell. He needs help."



This has been a recurring theme with the brothers lately. They each think the other has changed, and not for the better, and although the changes in Sam are far more pronounced and worrying than the changes in Dean, Sam continues to cling to Dean as his excuse, as if that is the only reason he is doing this – making it Dean's fault for being broken rather than Sam's own choice. Passing the buck. It ties in with his earlier claim that he has no choice, in spite of his usual emphasis on taking responsibility for his own life and making his own decisions, for better or for worse. This particular decision is one he has struggled with, and continues to struggle with, and so he must provide rationalisations for it to satisfy his own mind.

"So you've got to carry the weight?" Chuck gently asks.

"Well, he's looked out for me my whole life." Sam looks the other man in the eye now. "I can't return the favour?"

God, it's just heartbreaking to hear him saying it out loud like that, his heartfelt desire to repay his brother for everything Dean has done for him. Dean really has been taking care of Sam his entire life; we've seen it throughout the show, and have also watched, over the course of the seasons, Sam's slow realisation of just how much he owes his brother. When Sam first realised that Dean remembered his cripplingly traumatic experience in hell his first instinct was to try and help…only to be crushed by the shattering realisation that he couldn't. He didn't know what to say and he didn't know what to do, because he can't change what happened, and it was for him, the price paid for his life. He can't fix Dean, can only stand by and watch as he continues to suffer, and it was Dean's steady downward spiral into depression that triggered Sam's decision to embrace his powers completely, because putting an end to the impending Apocalypse by whatever means, and thereby providing his brother with some semblance of hope for the future, was the only way Sam could think of helping him.

And…I can't help remembering the Sam of, for example, Time Is On My Side, because he was so sure then, too, that he had come up with a solid plan that would allow him to save his brother, and yet it was so, so wrong. Sam in peril gives Dean clarity of thought like nothing else. Dean in peril clouds Sam's judgement like nothing else, and since he is using Dean's distress as a major portion of his justification for following this path, that's a point well worth bearing in mind.

Also…even in his moment of making that decision, setting his resolve to do something he knew in his gut was repulsive and wrong, drinking demon blood…how much of that decision was genuinely about helping Dean and stopping the Apocalypse, and how much was about addiction, about Sam's own desire, his need, to resume the habit he had developed and then put on hold and tried so hard to repress?

Dean's not Dean lately, Sam argued by way of justifying his decision to boost his powers by drinking demon blood, and yet that argument falls flat right now because Dean is more his old self in this episode than he has been in a long time, and yet Sam either can't or won't acknowledge that fact. He needs Dean to be weak, because without that his wall of justification begins to crumble.

Hell has undeniably left its stamp on Dean. He is, in general, quieter and more cautious, more brittle, than he once was. And yet he has not changed as much as Sam seems to think. Trauma and depression aside, in essence, he is much as he ever was. Sam has been railing against Dean's reluctance to go after Lilith as evidence of his supposed 'weakness', as a sign of how much he has changed, and yet, as previously mentioned, we have only to look back at episodes such as Salvation or Devil's Trap in season one to see how much this reluctance to allow his family to commit suicide in the name of revenge has always been a part of who Dean is.

No doubt while Dean was dead Sam would have built up in his mind an idealised image of who his brother was, an idealised image that the traumatised brother he got back cannot live up to, but it is more than that. It harks back to season three, when Sam first began to consciously toughen himself up and stated that it was because he felt he had to turn himself into Dean in order to survive, because it was clear even then that Sam in fact had a very flawed understanding of who his brother actually is.

We saw it over and over in season three: Sam consciously and deliberately forcing himself to be more ruthless, choosing cold, hard practicality over compassion, and he admitted in Malleus Maleficarum that he was doing it deliberately in an attempt to be more like his brother – or at least, to be more like he perceived his brother to be. Now, Dean has always been a practical soul to his core, and the circumstances of his life have frequently forced him to be ruthless, but his pragmatism has always been counter-balanced by empathy and compassion. Yet empathy and compassion were precisely what Sam chose to strip himself of in his attempt to become who he felt he had to be in order to survive, and he described it as becoming more like Dean, but was always more about what Sam felt would enable him to cope alone than who his brother really is.

That Sam erroneously felt he had to rid himself of his compassion in order to be more like Dean was troubling back then, and the continuation of that theme is even more troubling now. It is also a large part of the perception problem Sam is having with his brother at the moment, because he is comparing the Dean who returned from hell against a false impression he has long held that was reinforced by their separation, the reality and the image clashing badly. The further distortion of Sam's perception by his psychic abilities only makes that worse – after all, anyone would look weak alongside the power Sam wields these days.

Dean has always been the more flexible of the two brothers. It is no coincidence that although Sam was the one who so desperately wanted a normal life, every time a case has involved spending time in any kind of normal society – Hollywood Babylon, Folsom Prison Blues, heck even It's A Terrible Life – Dean has fitted in smoothly and easily, adapting himself to that community while remaining always himself, while Sam has remained awkward and aloof, because he can't be that flexible, can't be part of that world and yet not of it. And partly it ties in with Dean being such a social animal by nature while Sam is more introverted, but also it's because Sam always seems to feel he has to change who he is in order to suit his circumstances, so that the Sam who is a hunter cannot co-exist with the Sam who leads a normal life in the normal world, and whenever he finds himself in a situation that calls for both, he struggles. Much the same principle applies here. In order to be the person he believes he has to be in order to win this war, single-handedly as he believes he must, Sam has had to change his whole self, ruthlessly locking away a whole huge portion of his personality, and it is affecting the way he views everything and everyone around him.

Sam is scared of what he is doing and where it might lead, but he believes he has no choice, that he is doing what must be done in order to prevent the Apocalypse and exact vengeance on Lilith. He believes that he is being strong so that his brother won't have to be. He's looked out for me my whole life. I can't return the favour? And yet there is also an element of defiance in there, because this sentiment is wholly heartfelt and yet it is also an excuse, transferring his deeply conflicted emotions onto Dean by way of justifying his actions, and deep down he has to know it, whether he is prepared to admit it or not.

"Sure you can," Chuck mildly agrees. "If that's what this is."



If that's what this is. And therein lies the crux of the matter. Sam claims that he is doing what he is doing in order to help his brother, yet what he is actually doing is working against him. It was the only thing he could think to do, at the time, but now he's in over his head. Helping Dean and trying to prevent the Apocalypse were undoubtedly his chief intentions when he got into this, but that doesn't mean they remain his driving motivations now. He has already admitted that he knows he may no longer be in complete control of his habit, but remains extremely reluctant to look any deeper.

"What else would it be?" Sam looks worried.

Chuck sits down opposite. "I don't know. Maybe the demon blood makes you feel stronger. More in control," he suggests.

And that rather neatly brings us back to Sam's seemingly never-ending quest to be in control of his own life, something he never quite manages to achieve. Chuck has seen Sam when he is with Ruby, has seen his desire for the power her blood gives him, and has seen the rush he gets from wielding that power. I think he is quite right when he points out that the buzz that comes from feeling strong and powerful is influencing Sam's decision-making process more than he is willing to admit, as it grants him at least the illusion of being in control.

Hearing the suggestion, however, Sam shuts down at once, a raw nerve very definitely struck there. "No," he fiercely denies, and he is denying it to himself as much as to Chuck. "That's not true."



Oh, bless him, he is so, so deep in denial about his addiction to that demon blood and the power it grants him. He just cannot bring himself to examine his motivations at all, because he just knows that if he tries the whole house of cards he has built for himself will come crashing down all around him.

Chuck looks worried. "I'm sorry, Sam. I know it's a terrible burden, feeling that it all rests on your shoulders."

Oh man, I really love Chuck. I love him for sympathising with Sam and acknowledging the pressure that he is under – but also feel compelled to note that he said only that Sam feels like it all rests on his shoulders, not that it actually does.

"Does it? All rest on my shoulders?" Sam looks desperate. He took that burden on himself, and yet is terrified of it; he wants Dean to man up and take it from him again, and yet resents it when he tries, because he can't let go of it, can't see any way off the path he has chosen to follow. And he has strenuously denied that Chuck's vision of him with Lilith will come true and yet now appeals to Chuck as the fount of all knowledge for the future, because he so desperately needs guidance and reassurance and to know that everything will be all right in the end. Once upon a time he knew he could always turn to Dean and his brother would make him feel better with just a word, but he has denied himself of that comfort now by pushing Dean away to protect his dirty little secret. And he's just so miserable and confused and afraid and trapped, and oh Sam.

"That seems to be where the story is headed," Chuck reluctantly admits. But which story, I wonder – the seasonal arc or just the current episode plot? Plus, of course, 'seems to be' is a wonderfully vague statement, because what Chuck knows of the future is extremely limited and therefore open to interpretation in just about any direction he chooses. So, 'seems to be', maybe – but not necessarily 'is'.

"Am I strong enough to stop Lilith tonight?" Sam anxiously asks, so, so desperate to get this over, because he doesn't know how much longer he can carry on like this, but does know that he is not prepared to back down from that confrontation.

"I don't know, I haven't seen that far yet," Chuck murmurs, a salutary reminder that Chuck does not have all the answers. He hasn't yet seen the end of this scene, and his knowledge is limited to what he sees and how he interprets it.

Sam looks dismayed, no comfort anywhere in sight.

Street

Prone on the asphalt in the middle of the road, Dean rouses following his little man versus minivan collision.

"Oh, thank God," a tinny, echoey voice declares. "Just take it easy, you're going to be okay."



So, the minivan accident wasn't really that bad, but even so, when he opens his eyes, Dean still finds himself seeing stars – just as Chuck predicted. Literally seeing stars, which frame a blurry face just above him. "Stars," he groggily murmurs, blinking and trying to sit up.

"I'm so sorry – I just didn't see you. Are you okay?" squeaks the blur, which slowly resolves itself into a woman, the driver of the van that hit him. A woman wearing large, dangly star earrings.

Stars. Minivan. This is another of Chuck's predictions that has come true despite all efforts at thwarting it.

As the still-dazed Dean finally manages to shove up into a sitting position, the woman falters an apology, saying that her daughter – a little cutie no more than seven years old – is going through a doctor phase. Dean doesn't know what she is talking about, and the little girl's cheerful declaration that he is all better now leaves him none the wiser.



As the camera pulls around to reveal to viewers what Dean remains unaware of – pink flower bandaids all over the side of his face, which in fact is remarkably unscathed – he notices something across the street and is outraged. Those hoodlums the minivan accident prevented him from accosting have succeeded in breaking into the Impala – the driver's door is open and the rear windshield has been shattered.

Vandals!

Post-accident grogginess is quickly shoved aside. Groaning, Dean clambers back to his feet and hurries over to the car, the little crowd that had gathered around to gawk in the wake of the accident swiftly dispersing before they can be asked why no one bothered the youths from breaking into the car in broad daylight right in front of them. Presumably the vandals were scared away by the growing crowd before they could take anything, or find the weapons cache in the trunk, but we are not told, for it is at this moment that Dean catches sight of himself in the window and sees the pink flower bandaids all over his face. Dumbfounded, he peels them off, realising that yet another prediction has come true in full.

And I pause at this point to wonder why on earth the woman would let her child plaster Dean with bandaids but not call an ambulance. He was unconscious! And he was her responsibility, after she hit him with her van, and all. I know, I know, we aren't meant to ask these questions, but it always bugs me when credibility is sacrificed for the sake of a throwaway joke.

Road

The plastic tarp taped over the Impala's rear windshield in rather slapdash fashion flaps in the wind, just as Chuck wrote. Dean drives along, seething with indignity of having to drive his car in this condition.

All of Dean's best efforts at thwarting destiny seem doomed to failure so far. He has managed to change minor details, perhaps, but the predicted sequence of events always ends up playing out anyway, even if reached via a slightly different path. This implies that fate cannot be thwarted, that Sam's encounter with Lilith is inevitable…but Chuck saw him being seduced by her, and Dean cannot allow that to happen. Yet the harder he tries, the more destiny seems to laugh in his face, and so his desperation levels are rising fast.

As the Impala drives out of shot, an actual crow caws. Cute, Show. Very cute.

Chuck's house

Chuck arrives back home with an armful of booze, to reinforce the fact that he appears to exist on a staple diet of alcohol and not much else. He lets himself into the house and carries his armful of booze through to the lounge, where he finds Dean sitting waiting for him, looking unbelievably annoyed, which is an expression he always wears so beautifully well.



"I take it you knew I'd be here," Dean opens, and Chuck certainly does not seem surprised to see him, although he does start a little.

"You look terrible," the writer offers.

Dean takes a moment to clutch at what little patience he has left before replying. "That's because I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck," he grates out, deadpan, slurring his words very slightly as if he hasn't quite shaken off the mild concussion yet.

"Oh." Clutching at his armful of healing booze as if it were a shield with which to fend off all comers, Chuck sounds apologetic but really doesn't know what to say – he is so completely out of his depth, having to interact with these real life versions of the characters he'd thought he had created, and dealing with the reality of the painful situations they find themselves in on a daily basis. Talk about culture shock!

"Every damn thing you write about me comes true, and that's all you have to say is 'oh'?" Dean growls, incensed by this entire situation, from the fact of Chuck's predictions coming true to the substance of the predictions that have yet to come true.

Chuck cringes. "Please don't yell at me," he implores, no doubt hungover and headachey, and…you know, it must be quite the vicious circle Chuck has got himself into, wherein he drinks to escape the headaches his visions cause, but then his drinking leads to hangovers, which leads to more drinking, and so on. Round and round he goes.

"Why do I get the feeling that there's something you're not telling us?" Dean demands, standing up and advancing on Chuck, practically radiating menace, and Chuck is suitably intimidated. It's been a while since we saw Dean looking so dangerous – and it is no surprise that it is a threat to Sam that has got him all fired up.

Chuck falteringly asks what he wouldn't be telling them, and Dean shouts that how he knows what he knows will do for starters. Scared, Chuck can only stammer that he doesn't know how he knows, he just does.

"That's not good enough," Dean grits. Because if he can find out where the predictions are coming from and how they are controlled, what causes them to always come true, then maybe, just maybe, he stands a chance of keeping Sam away from Lilith. He's going for the source, which is why he hasn't hung around the motel room trying to thwart destiny by being there when Lilith arrives. And he's just so tired and bruised and angry and very afraid, and, you know…Dean has been in remarkably good form in this episode so far, considering everything that's happened lately – On The Head Of A Pin, in particular. The health spa of It's A Terrible Life clearly did him a lot of good. He's back on his feet and back in the game, just as Zachariah wanted…but the cracks are still very clearly visible, as they should be. He's on his feet, but it really wouldn't take much to knock him back down again. There is no such thing as a miracle cure.

Shoving Chuck against the wall, Dean yells at him. "How the hell are you doing this?"



"Dean! Let him go!" a strident voice immediately calls out, drowning out the flutter of wings. Startled, Dean does just that, spinning around to see Castiel standing behind him. "This man is to be protected," the angel declares, eyes fixed on Dean, as usual.

Castiel always watches Dean so very closely, trying to see how much he understands and trying to predict how he will react. He still finds Dean such a puzzle, even now.

Dean regards the angel searchingly. "Why?" he cautiously asks. He wanted answers, and now he has a potential new source, one that promises to be rather more enlightening than the oh-so befuddled Chuck.

"He is a Prophet of the Lord," Castiel lugubriously announces.



…

A prophet? Seriously, Show? That's…that's ridiculous. And I kinda hate the delivery of the line – it really made me cringe the first time around. I've come around to the idea since, to the point where I actually enjoy the ridiculousness, and appreciate what they are trying to do with the concept: both exploring the role of the scribe in the formation of legends, and continuing their ongoing exploration of the tug-of-war between destiny and free will. But I still think that line sounds lame.

Since he is already having a really bad day, and all, Dean is rendered speechless by this latest revelation and gapes at the angel in disbelief. Behind him, Chuck can barely breathe, he's so bowled over by the events of the last couple of days. "You. You're Castiel, aren't you?" he realises, awestruck at being in the same room as an angel.

"It's an honour to meet you, Chuck," the angel gravely intones, carefully picking his way across the cluttered floor to pick up a random copy of Scarecrow that Chuck just happens to have lying around. "I…admire your work."

See, since it has been established that Chuck's writing really isn't good, that actually is funny. Because what Castiel is admiring isn't the quality of the writing, but the substance, the fact that he is creating a permanent record of this battle, and the fact that he keeps working at it despite the fact that there is no longer anything in it for him, since his books are not being published any more.

But then I remember that Chuck started writing his books back in 2005, right around about the time that John first went missing and Dean first went to Stanford to ask Sam to help look for him and Jessica died, way back before anyone sold their soul and went to hell, before anyone opened any devil's gates, before Lilith had any opportunity to set the Apocalypse in notion. All those years ago, Chuck started receiving visions of the Winchester brothers. Because it was already known, on high, that things would come to this. And this is where the story starts tripping over itself in terms of that ongoing exploration of the tug-of-war between destiny and free will, because on the one hand it seems to loudly declare that fate cannot be averted, that what will be will be, but on the other hand Show has always extolled the virtues of free will and the ability of each individual to forge their own destiny. The place where those two concepts meet is this episode, and it gets kinda murky.

"What, this guy – a prophet? He's practically a Penthouse Forum writer," Dean protests to Castiel, who doesn't answer, being rather preoccupied by his oh-so reverent examination of the oh-so lousy book in his hand, while Chuck frantically grabs a bottle of whisky and scurries to fetch a glass, dropping onto a nearby armchair as if his legs will no longer hold him. "Did you know about this?" Dean bellows at the writer, who flinches.



"I, uh, I might have dreamt about it," he admits, nervously pouring himself an extremely generous helping of alcohol to settle his jangling nerves.

Okay, I'm now intrigued by Chuck's angle, living the scenes that he has dreamed. Because on the one hand I wonder if he feels he should memorise the dreams featuring himself, to make sure he gets his lines right, or whatever, but that clearly isn't the case, because on the other hand what he sees is what happens, so that whatever he says and whatever he does, it will always be right, so he doesn't have to worry about it. Not that he would worry about it, of course, because he has plenty of other things to worry about already.

"You knew about this and didn't tell us!" Dean fumes. Anger is Dean's default reaction to fear and confusion.

"It was too preposterous!" Chuck wails, and you know what else I love about Chuck? I love that he's the kind of guy who can use the word 'preposterous' in a sentence and mean it. "Not to mention arrogant! I mean writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night level douchiness."

Heh.

Dean rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Castiel, who is still engrossed in Scarecrow. "This is the guy who decides our fate?" he angrily disbelieves.

"He isn't deciding anything. He is a mouthpiece," Castiel rather absently explains, never once lifting his eyes from the pages in his hand. "A conduit for the Inspired Word."



So, basically Chuck's role is that of the court scribe. His function is to keep a record of events for posterity.

Dean frowns. "The word? The word of God? What, like the New, New Testament?"

Hunched up in his armchair, Chuck buries his head in his hands in utter despair at the mere thought of it, while Castiel actually caresses the spine of the book in his hands as he reverently announces that, "One day, these books, they'll be known as the Winchester Gospel."

Um. Do the writers even know what the Gospels are? There are 66 books in the Bible, and only four of them are given the name 'gospel', which means 'good news' – those being the four that deal, very specifically, with the life of Christ. Also, they are all named after the person who wrote them, rather than the subject: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John – not Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. So…the Winchester Gospel? Please.

They could have called it the Book of Winchester, though. That might sound more plausible.

Also, if Castiel knows that these books will one day be known as 'the Winchester Gospel' that means he must know the eventual outcome of the war, because if the Apocalypse is unleashed and humanity is destroyed, there would be no one left to know those books as anything! Which brings me back to that whole destiny versus free will thing, because…I can buy the concept of free will and destiny co-existing, with individuals on earth free to make their own decisions, but because God and his heavenly host exist outside of time they know what those decisions will be, because they see the future as well as the past and don't really distinguish between the two. So decisions made by free will can be predicted with absolute accuracy, without interfering with the exercise of that free will. It is known that a particular person will make a particular decision because they already have. Fate. But if that is the case, then this whole thing about sending angels into the world to fight a battle where they already know the outcome…it does weird, paradoxical things to my head. Not to mention the fact that Castiel has never shown the slightest sign of omniscience before. In fact there seems to be an awful lot he doesn't know.

So. When he talks about people knowing Chuck's books as 'the Winchester Gospel' in the future, does he actually know this for sure? Or is he just making an optimistic prediction as a statement of confidence in the outcome of the war and as a symbol of what the books mean?

"You've got to be kidding me," Dean and Chuck protest in unison, taking the words right out of my mouth.

Castiel finally puts the book down. "I am not…'kidding' you," he delicately insists, and you can totally hear the inverted commas dropping into place around the colloquialism there.

Dean continues to stare at him incredulously, while Chuck can take no more and makes a break for the stairs, bottle in hand, to drown his disbelief in private, away from all this insanity. Dean watches him go and then turns back to Castiel, scathing. "Him? Really?"



Castiel just gazes off into space, with a nostalgic look on his face. "You should have seen Luke," he remarks with a little shake of his head.

Um. You know what, Show? If you want to mock a prophet, it might help if you picked an actual prophet. Which, Luke wasn't. He was a doctor. He wrote his Gospel based on eyewitness accounts and he wrote the Acts of the Apostles based on both eyewitness accounts and his own firsthand experience; there was no prophecy involved whatsoever. None of the Gospel writers were prophets, except for John, but his prophecy was Revelation, not his Gospel. I suppose if Castiel had said John rather than Luke, folk might have got confused with John Winchester. So maybe the writers should have picked an Old Testament prophet like Elijah – or Moses! Moses might have been good. He was a bit of a spoiled brat, perfect for the mockery of that line!

So, yeah. I know a lot of people loved that line, but it fell totally flat for me.

Dean is still struggling to wrap his brains around this whole concept, because Chuck and prophet just don't jibe. "Why'd he get tapped?" he wonders.

"I don't know how prophets are chosen," Castiel admits, very neatly bringing me back to the point I just made – that he doesn't know much, does he? And yet he just made a pretty sweeping prediction himself. "The order comes from high up the celestial chain of command."

"How high?" Dean asks, as the human and the angel exchange a long, searching look, appraising one another.

"Very," Castiel replies.

You know, I do love the way Dean and Castiel talk to one another – there is something so simple and honest and open about it, has been almost from the beginning. Although Dean remains a tad wary, since they've been at odds plenty, he finds that he trusts Castiel instinctively, isn't afraid to ask questions because he knows that while he may not get a straight answer he will get an honest one. Castiel has never lied to him, at least not directly. And it is important to Castiel that Dean trusts him. He still can't predict Dean, but wants him to understand.



"Well, whatever." Dean decides to dismiss the entire prophecy situation completely, since he is focused on finding a solution to his problem. "How do we get around this?" Castiel isn't sure what he means. "This Sam-Lilith love connection," Dean impatiently explains. "How do we stop it from happening?"

Castiel sighs. "What the prophet has written," he rather reluctantly states, with the air of a man delivering bad news that he knows will not go down well – which, in fact, he absolutely is. "Can't be unwritten. As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass."

That's…not strictly true, not the bit about it being written. It isn't the act of writing the prophecy down that makes it inevitable. After all, Chuck doesn't write everything down – Sam and the demon blood, for example. Plus, a lot of what he does write is subject to his interpretation, and therefore not necessarily true – that 'soulful' look, for example. It is the second part of Castiel's statement there that seems most relevant: as he has seen it, so it shall come to pass. Chuck sees something happening, and that is what makes it inevitable.

And yet it seems to be possible to change some details. Or is it? We have seen Dean attempting to change what was written, only for the sequence of events to play out anyway, and I wonder now just how detailed Chuck's account of those scenes was. If he précised what he saw very concisely, it is possible that the scene in the diner, for example, played out exactly as he saw it despite all Dean's efforts, that he saw those efforts at thwarting fate, but didn't write them in detail.

It is all rather confusing.



Unhappy with Castiel's answer, because it implies that Sam and Lilith's fiery demonic passion is inevitable, Dean sets his jaw.

Motel

A grim-faced Dean returns to the motel, and the first thing he sees when he gets out of the car is the sign, which now reads Red Motel instead of Toreador Motel. Another reminder that Chuck's prophecies always come true, somehow.



He charges into the room. "Come on, we're getting out of here," he urgently tells his brother, who is startled and asks where they are going.

"Anywhere!" Dean insists. "Out of this motel, out of this town – I don't care if we have to swim, we are getting out."

His desperation is just heart-rending, because he already knows that Chuck's prophecy can't be avoided, he's spent all day trying to change things only for the prophecy to become fact anyway, but he just will not give up, because it is Sam. And he is so very afraid, because he just doesn't have any faith in his brother any more, not where demons are concerned, but even so he simply is not prepared to just give up on Sam, will keep fighting for him with every last breath he has, and just…oh, boys.

And Sam just stands there in the middle of the room, shuffling from foot to foot looking uncomfortable, and the reason why becomes apparent a moment later when Dean spots something – or rather, the lack of something. "Dude, where are all the hex bags?" he frowns, and this scene, right here, this is why he had to arrange them around the room instead of leaving them to do their thing in the duffle, because he'd never have noticed they were missing otherwise.

Sam hesitates just slightly before coming out with it. "I burned them," he unrepentantly admits.



Burned them? But…what if they need them again in the future? Except that, of course, Sam doesn't expect to need them again in the future, because he thinks this is it, the moment of truth, that he will either take Lilith out completely tonight or maybe die in the attempt, and either way he doesn't expect to need hex bags to hide from her any more. Although if he died in the attempt, but Dean wasn't there, then Dean might need the hex bags in the future…but Sam isn't thinking that far ahead, I suspect. All he can see is Lilith and tonight and how much he wants this all over with. And he couldn't just put the hex bags away, because they would be just as effective a shield in the bag as out on the table, and the bottom line is that he knew when he destroyed them that Dean would find out about it and be both furious and terrified, but he did it anyway. Because all he can see is Lilith and tonight, and his tunnel vision is absolute. He is prepared to stand by his decision whatever the consequences.

Dean can't believe what he is hearing, and Sam urgently attempts to explain. "Look, if Lilith is coming, which is a big if –"

"Oh, no. It's more than an if," interrupts Dean, and Sam rolls his eyes, still deeply sceptical, so Dean explains the latest revelation. "Chuck is not a psychic. He's a prophet."

"What?" Sam was not expecting that.

"Cas showed up," Dean wearily explains, and I really wish there was a reaction shot of Sam on that statement, because the last time Castiel showed up Dean ended up on life support, so you might expect Sam to be a little twitchy at the thought of the angel near his brother again. "And apparently he's writing the Gospel of Us."

Heh. Okay, I still don't like that they are calling Chuck's books a 'gospel', but that line is funny.

Sam is stunned. "Okay," he finally says, not knowing what to think.

"Okay. Let's get the hell out of here," Dean repeats, satisfied that he and Sam are on the same page at last.



But he has misinterpreted Sam's reply as agreement to his strategic retreat plan, when in fact all Sam was doing was adjusting his worldview to accommodate the Prophet Chuck. Sam watches Dean getting his things together and sets his resolve. "No."

Frustrated, Dean turns back to him. "Lilith is going to slaughter you," he despairs, and it is interesting that he expresses Sam getting killed as his fear, when what Chuck predicted was seduction.

"Maybe she will. Maybe she won't," Sam shrugs.

Dean's eyebrows hit his hairline. "So what, you think you can take her?"

"Only one way to find out, Dean, and I say bring her on," Sam declares, as gung-ho as we've ever seen him, and there is it again, that façade of steely resolve he maintains at all times in his brother's presence. When he was alone with Chuck we saw his fear, but in front of Dean there is nothing but bravado.

"Sam!" Dean seethes.

"You think I'll do it, don't you?" Sam quietly asks, seeing clearly just how far he has pushed his brother away, just how bad the damage is. "You think I'll go dark side."



"Yes!" Dean shouts, too angry and confused and afraid to mince his words. "Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately, the things you've been doing!"



Sam hangs his head and regards his brother through his eyelashes, sullen and hurt but unable to argue because he has brought this on himself, and he is still more afraid of the consequences of honesty than the clear and present damage caused by his continued evasion.

"Oh, I know," adds Dean, and oh man, the dread that creeps across Sam's face on hearing that, because Dean finding out his dirty little secret is his greatest fear, and if Dean knows…. "How you ripped Alistair apart like it was nothing," Dean continues, "Like you were swatting a fly."

Sam's relief is palpable, because for a moment there he'd really thought Dean was talking about the demon blood, which Dean can't know about – Dean finding out about that scares Sam more than anything, which is a fact that tells its own story. If he was really sure it was the right thing to do, Dean finding out wouldn't matter, but he isn't, and it does. He is utterly, utterly terrified that if Dean finds out it will be the absolute end of them, that it will cost him his brother's love forever, and that is the one price that he is not willing to pay. It is why he has never been able to take Dean up on the many openings he has offered Sam to come clean. Dean has opened that door so many times, begged Sam to talk to him, to be honest with him, but Sam just can't bring himself to do it. By maintaining his silence, protecting his secret, he is trying desperately to preserve what is left of his fragile relationship with his brother…and yet by so doing he is driving Dean further and further away, destroying what little trust his brother still has in him. Damned if he does and damned if he doesn't – Sam really has manoeuvred himself into a corner that he can't see any way out of.

"Cas told me, okay," continues Dean, raw and angry, and rightly so, because that statement right there tells us clearly that all the communication is one-sided still. It was Castiel who told Dean what happened between Sam and Alistair, not Sam himself – how could he? If he told Dean what he did to Alistair, Dean's first question would have been how, and Sam can't answer that, for all the reasons stated above. And yet Dean has told Sam about his role in the Apocalypse, desperately painful as that confession must have been, but still Sam won't reciprocate.

Oh man. Boys. Damn, but it all hurts so much!

"What else did he tell you?" Sam grates out, still terribly afraid that someone is going to tell Dean his dirty little secret, maybe already has. And again, that reaction right there should be a warning to Sam. If it is that important to him that Dean doesn't find out what he is doing, then clearly it is something he should not be doing, no matter how strong the justifications he feels he has. And yet he just cannot see any viable alternatives, because his results so far speak for themselves, despite the damage to his relationship with his brother and the risk to his own soul. What he is doing has worked, unlike just about anything else anyone else has tried, at least that he can see. So he just doesn't know what else to do.

He could try trust, of course. Dean is apparently destined to stop the Apocalypse, somehow, so Sam could try supporting that effort instead of working at cross purposes, but he thinks he knows better. It is just such a terribly tangled mess of emotions and motivations and justifications, doubt and fear and broken trust all around.

"Nothing I don't already know," Dean angrily but sadly replies. "That you've been using your psychic crap and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why and we don't know how."



Once upon a time Dean'n'Sam were an almost exclusive 'we', but here and now 'we' means Dean-Castiel instead. On the one hand it is a good thing that they each have a confidante outside of each other now, because God knows their extreme co-dependence was not healthy, but on the other hand, while Dean's relationship with Castiel is a healthy one, providing him with an outlet he has desperately needed, Sam's relationship with Ruby is not healthy at all, however invaluable her support was in keeping him alive while Dean was dead. And the fact that they are each turning to others stands also as a sign of everything that has gone wrong between them this season.

Also, the fact that Castiel does not know what Sam is doing to strengthen his powers stands as further evidence of the limitations to the angel's knowledge.

Sam looks heartbroken but resolved. "It's not what you think," he insists, but still offers absolutely nothing to back up that statement, not so much as a crumb for his brother to grasp at.

"Then what is it, Sam?" Dean shouts, so very, very afraid. "'Cause I am at a total loss."

But Sam just stands there and stares hopelessly at him. He isn't going to explain – can't explain, not without incriminating himself. It is a total impasse.



It really, really hurts to know that Sam feels living like this, with the lies and the secrets and the deep, deep hurt, is preferable to facing Dean's reaction to the truth. That seemingly inevitable reaction has been built up in his head into an insurmountable obstacle to ever telling the truth – but is that fear justified? Would Dean's reaction be that bad or should Sam have more faith in his brother? Has this become just another excuse for carrying on with what he is doing? Because if Dean found out, then not only would Sam have to face his reaction, but he would also have to face up to his own personal demons, confront his deepest, darkest motivations for maintaining his habit, and if he did that there is the risk that his entire wall of justification might come crashing down. So instead of risking any of that, he buries his head in denial, blinkers firmly in place, determined to just keep going until he has completed the task he has set for himself, no matter what it takes and no matter what the collateral damage along the way, because the only hope he really has at this stage is the hope that the results of his actions will ultimately vindicate the means in his brother's eyes, and somehow make it all worthwhile.

Sam isn't going to tell the truth, even now when Dean is laying his fear and desperation right on the line for him to see, and you can see that realisation stabbing at Dean. He has been hammering his head against this brick wall for weeks now, and it has been beating him down just as effectively as anything else he's gone through.

He grabs his bag and heads for the door and Sam just stands there looking miserable, watching him go. He has brought all of this on himself. This is the price he must pay for maintaining his secret, the effective destruction of his relationship with his brother. Is it worth it?

At the door, Dean stops and turns back. "Are you coming or not?"

Oh, Dean. He keeps giving Sam so, so many opportunities, tossing lifeline after lifeline in a desperate attempt to build bridges and repair the damage, even now, but Sam just will not take him up on those advances. It is reassuring that Dean still keeps trying, in spite of it all, but every time Sam rejects those offers causes still more damage, incalculable damage.

Sam slowly turns to face his brother, unhappy but determined. "No," he declares, in such a small, sad voice that it tears at my heart.



Sam just can't bring himself to back down. He can't provide Dean with any verbal reassurances, because he is too afraid of betraying his secret, so instead he has resolved to show him, desperate to prove that despite Dean's lack of faith, despite Chuck's prophecy, he will not be seduced by the demon. Being challenged and not being trusted puts Sam's back up, always, and he never backs down when he has set his mind to something. He remains eager for the opportunity to pit his strength against Lilith, no doubt buoyed by his success against Alistair, and believes that if he can just get through this night, if he can defeat Lilith once and for all, here and now, then everything that he has done up till now will be validated. Justified. He has too much to lose not to go through with it, and so very deliberately closes his eyes both to the risks and to his brother's obvious pain and despair.

Deadlock. Sam has called Dean's bluff – will his brother leave town without him, abandon him to his fate?

Dean fixes his brother with a long, hard glare, hurt and angry and afraid, and desperately willing him to bend just a little, to cooperate, almost frantic to save him from himself. But Sam refuses to back down, and how many times have we seen that now? Too many. When the brothers are at odds, it is almost always Dean who is forced to back down, because he cannot leave his brother in danger. Sam has always been the more ruthless of the two, prepared to cause pain if it will get him his own way.



Dean turns away again and continues to the door, hesitates, and knows he can't go through with it, closes his eyes in abject despair. Then he slams his bag down onto the chair as surety that he isn't going far and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

Outside

Unable to go far, because Lilith is coming and Sam is determined to face her and Dean is terrified for his brother, he takes his frustration out on a nearby soda machine, panic and despair flooding through him because he believes, absolutely, that Sam is about to get himself killed – or worse. And Dean does not have any special powers that allow him to go riding to the rescue. He has to rely on other means of defeating an enemy, but right now he has absolutely nowhere to turn. He has tried every avenue, but come up short every time.

Despairing, he casts his eyes heavenward. He has learned to believe in a higher power. And for Sam's sake he is prepared to beg – which is interesting to compare with Sam's high-handedness in On The Head Of A Pin, demanding a miracle.

"Well, I feel stupid doing this," Dean despondently aims at the heavens. "But I am fresh out of options. Please. I need some help." A beat passes. "I'm praying, okay. Come on! Please."



Oh, Dean. He just sounds so raw and desolate, and he's begging, and it's for Sam, and a few months ago he refused to even acknowledge that God exists, and he has come so far, but is just absolutely at the end of his tether. It is all just too much – trying to save the world and trying to save Sam. Yet it is notable that the threat to Sam has galvanised him so completely, all his protective big brother instincts firing on all cylinders for the first time in a long time, whereas the Apocalypse just paralyses him completely with its sheer scale.

"Prayer is a sign of faith," Castiel's even voice intones from somewhere behind Dean, with a tiny thump-flutter of wings as he lands. "This is a good thing, Dean."

Yeah, I suppose it is a good thing, from Castiel's point of view. The man with no faith has grabbed hold of a lifeline in his time of need, and since heaven needs him cooperative, this is a good start. Although I'm not really sure how much it can be regarded as faith, as such, since Dean has incontrovertible evidence that angels exist and has exhausted every other possible avenue before trying this one. The angel regards Dean with compassion…but he also looks a little worried, because he has come in response to Dean's prayer, but doesn't think there is anything he can actually do.

"Does that mean you'll help me?" Dean asks, wide-eyed, and oh man, he sounds so hopeful, and it is heartbreaking to see how desperate he is to feel that someone is on his side, that he doesn't have to keep fighting this uphill battle all on his own.

"I'm not sure what I can do," Castiel regretfully admits.

Dean has a few ideas. "Drag Sam out of here, now, before Lilith shows up," he urgently, frantically tells the angel, looking pale and washed out and desperate.



"It's a prophecy," Castiel sighs. "I can't interfere."

Oh man. Dean looks so, so betrayed. He prayed for help, only to have that faith thrown back in his face, or so Castiel's refusal feels. "You have tested me and thrown me every which way and I have never asked for anything, not a damn thing," he reminds the angel, advancing toward him, voice raw and hurt, and…remember when Dean was so intimidated by Castiel? Not any more. He isn't the slightest bit afraid to get right up in the angel's face now, and that is partly because their relationship is far more equal these days, but also because this is for Sam, and Dean will risk anything and everything for his brother. "But now I'm asking. I need your help. Please."

Castiel looks torn and casts his eyes heavenward as if praying for a little support of his own, because he wants to help and needs to help – he can't bear seeing Dean distressed, again, and knows also how important it is to keep him on side. But rules are rules and they exist for a reason. "What you're asking – it's not within my power to do," he murmurs.



"Because it's 'divine prophecy'?" Dean spits, and Castiel hotly says yes, that's it. "So what?" Dean snarls. "We're supposed to just sit around and wait for it to happen?"

It is so good to see Dean railing against destiny again, instead of just bring crushed by it.

Dean is frantic, but Castiel sets his resolve. "I'm sorry."

Dean reacts to this denial. He draws back and he draws into himself, gathers his anger and betrayal and fear around him, and throws his defensive walls up high. He doesn't usually bother with those emotional defences around Castiel, allows himself to be hurt and vulnerable in front of the angel, who looks alarmed to see the shutters come down between them now. Dean prayed for help – Dean, of all people – and Castiel's first thought was what a good sign it was. But if that prayer is answered with refusal and rejection, the damage could be immense, destroying his fledgling faith completely. And heaven needs him.



"Screw you," Dean declares through gritted teeth, feeling impossibly alone, and Castiel has to look away, guilty as charged, when Dean matters to him, and it hurts. "You and your mission," Dean snarls, then pushes it one step further, goading, "Your God."



Oh, but at that little blasphemy Castiel shoots angry side eyes at the human, as if warning him not to push too hard, while also alarmed because that warning cuts both ways. Dean is pushing hard, deliberately spelling out his betrayal in a way he knows will hurt, and the warning explicit in that fact is that Dean, too, can't be pushed too hard. The angels went to a lot of trouble to put him back together again, first when he was dragged out of hell and then after Alistair almost destroyed him. He is back on his feet and fighting once more, but the cracks are very, very clearly visible. It won't take much to knock him off his feet for good – and this could well be it.

"If you don't help me now," Dean fiercely declares. "Then when the time comes and you need me, don't bother knocking."



Huge kudos to the actor; you can really see how very tightly wound Dean is, that he is just barely hanging on. But he is also very determined to do whatever it takes to save Sam, even if he has to do it alone, and that is a good sign given his crippling lack of self-determination lately.

So, yeah. This would be one of those times when a good company man needs to know when to exercise a little judgement and discretion.

"Dean," Castiel almost whispers as Dean walks away from him, and there is so much emotion and fear packed into that one word – the fact that Dean is needed and they cannot afford to lose him now, the fact that Castiel has let him down and knows it and regrets it. He calls more loudly. "Dean."

"What?" Dean snaps, turning back.

Castiel turns to face him once more. "You must understand why I can't intercede," he says in his usual level voice, holding Dean's eyes. "Prophets are protected –"

"I get that," Dean interrupts, angry.

Castiel carries on as if he hasn't spoken, determined that Dean should take his full meaning. "If anything threatens a prophet – anything at all – an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They are heaven's most terrifying weapon."

Right, so, I have a few thoughts here. The first is all about Castiel's face, which is just hilarious, because he is trying to be sneaky, finding a compromise between helping Dean and serving heaven, and he didn't know he could do it, and it is a completely new sensation for him, bless him.



The second thought revolves around that scene back at Chuck's house when Castiel first appeared, because Dean was threatening Chuck in that scene, so Castiel must have feared that the archangel would take action against him, which…would be interesting, no? Heaven needs Dean alive. Would the archangel take that into consideration before charging in to protect the prophet? You'd think a being that powerful would exercise a little discretion…but then again, given what we've seen of angels so far, I wouldn't actually bet on it.

My third thought is that prophets in the Bible got slaughtered all the time, without any archangels popping up to protect them.

And my fourth thought is that if archangels are heaven's most terrifying weapon, why the heck have they not been deployed in this war against Lilith? Why has clueless Castiel been sent to flail around in ignorance, when a few strategically placed archangels could wipe Lilith out in one fell swoop? Or is this something else that is all about what is prophesied, since prophecies can't be interfered with?

Dean listens intently, realises that Castiel is trying to tell him something important here. "And these archangels, they're tied to prophets?" he clarifies. He sounds exhausted, but he's thinking clearly, resolute. Castiel says yes, and Dean steps closer, wanting to be absolutely sure. "So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon…"



"Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon," Castiel nods, eyes wide. Oh, and his face! He is being devious and it is such a new sensation for him! "Just so you understand," he shrugs, as nonchalantly as he can manage. "Why I can't help."



Hee. And then he glances away, all shifty and pleased with himself, but can't resist casting sneaky side eyes back at Dean to make sure he has understood.

Dean gets it all right, and is grateful. "Thanks, Cas."



"Good luck," Castiel sincerely wishes, which – he's kind of blowing his studied air of neutrality there. But then again, we've known for a long time that he really isn't neutral any more, not where Dean is concerned, and this was a good and important thing that he did here. It was vital to the war effort that Dean's oh-so reluctant prayer be granted, somehow, in order to nurture that tiny seed of faith that is just beginning to germinate, and it was important for the growing relationship between angelic handler and human charge that Castiel give Dean this support in his time of need.

Road

The Impala zooms through the night.

Chuck's house

Chuck is huddled up on the sofa in a blanket drowning his complete incomprehension and culture shock in copious quantities of healing alcohol when Dean comes charging in.

I love that Dean feels it is quite all right to just let himself into this man's house whenever he feels like it. This is the second time now.

"What are you doing here?" Chuck slurs. "I didn't write this."

That's quite an important point to note there. Chuck didn't write this. Now, he doesn't write everything down, we know that, but he also wasn't expecting Dean to turn up, which means he also didn't see this. Dean has finally achieved what he has been trying to do all along. He has gone off book. Chuck doesn't see everything, and the end of this particular prophecy remains unclear.

But then again, minor changes have been possible before, but always led ultimately to the same sequence of events playing out. This whole destiny versus free will that this episode has got going on remains confusing as all heck.

Dean takes the bottle out of Chuck's hand and sets it on the table, then hauls the startled man to his feet. "I need you to come with me," he declares, in a tone that brooks no refusal.

"What?" Chuck is bemused, because he didn't foresee this and because he is drunk and because he cannot begin to imagine where Dean might want to take him. "Where?"

"To the motel, where Sam is," Dean impatiently explains, as if it should be obvious.

"But that's where Lilith is," Chuck remembers from his vision with no little dismay.

"Yeah, exactly. I need you to stop her," Dean rather unhelpfully informs the sozzled prophet, who immediately twists out of his grasp.

"Are you insane?" Chuck protests, not unreasonably. "Lilith? I know what she's capable of, Dean. I wrote her!"

Except that he didn't write her. Or rather, he did, but he didn't create her. What he means is that he has seen what she can do, and is quite rightly afraid.

"All right, listen to me," Dean growls, advancing on Chuck, who backs away. It's like having the old Dean back again! "You have an archangel tethered to you, okay. All you've got to do is show up and boom. Lilith gets smoked."

Heh, I love how Chuck jumps out of his skin when Dean shouts 'boom' there.

"But I – I – I – I haven't seen that yet," Chuck protests again. "It – the story –"

I like his use of the word 'yet' there. I wonder how long it takes him to receive a complete story. Maybe some parts come in advance and then the holes are filled later, but he never knew before that any of it was time-sensitive, because he never knew before that it was real. Either way, he has fallen into the trap of being unwilling to take any action now that he hasn't foreseen, surrendering his own agency to fate, because it is easier to let destiny decide than to have the courage of making a stand. Especially when drunk and confused.

Dean closes his eyes in despair. "Chuck you're the only shot that I've got left," he tremulously breathes, and it is almost a prayer, most definitely a plea. Oh bless him, Dean must feel like he is fighting an uphill battle underwater to try and get anyone at all to help him, even those supposedly playing on his team.

"But…I'm just a writer," Chuck wails.

Dean's frustration simmers back to the boil, raw and desperate. "This isn't a story any more, man! This is real! And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your ass and fight. Come on, Chuck."



Aww, that's quite the pep talk – with a little clenched fist of determination and everything. And it kills me that it's pretty much exactly what Sam has been saying to Dean for a while now – 'get off your ass and fight' – and now Dean is the one saying it to someone else. But when Sam said it, it was all about Lilith and the Apocalypse and the big picture, and Dean couldn't do it because it is too big, whereas Dean saying it here is still about Lilith but mostly about Sam, small scale and personal. And partly it's that it's as much as Dean can manage to get one foot in front of the other at the moment, but also it completely encapsulates one of the major differences between the brothers – Sam has always been all about long-term planning, while Dean is all about the immediate.

I love the way the background music is played in this moment, rising to a stirring crescendo, as Chuck contemplates those inspiring words…and then crashing, as he refuses point blank to consider the idea. "No friggin' way," he insists, sipping at the booze he has managed to reclaim at some point during the conversation.

"Okay, then, how about this?" offers Dean, tone dangerously bright, bordering on manic, because he really, really is teetering right on the edge of losing it completely. "I've got a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with me, I'll blow your brains out."

Now there speaks a man with absolutely nothing left to lose.

Chuck thinks about that for a moment, and tries to be clever – badly, because he is drunk. "I thought you said I was protected by an archangel."

It is Dean's turn to think for a moment. "Interesting exercise," he deadpans. "Let's see who the quicker draw is."



Interesting exercise indeed! Would the archangel smite Dean, since he is needed to prevent the Apocalypse? Who is more important, in the grand scheme of things, the righteous man or the prophet? Fascinating way to call Chuck's bluff!

Chuck's jaw drops slightly as he realises just how deadly serious Dean is.

Motel

This is probably the weakest scene of the episode, so we'll rattle through it as quickly as possible.

There is a knock at the door, which Sam very cautiously and nervously opens. He has been left alone to face Lilith, because Dean doesn't trust him. For all his bravado and determination, of course he is scared. He thinks he is strong enough to take her on, hopes he is, but he has no way of knowing for sure. Sam, too, feels he is fighting an uphill battle alone, with no one on his side, but that is mostly because he has deliberately cut himself off from the players on his own team.

There's no one there. Sam tenses up, knowing what he will see when he turns around once more. Sure enough, Lilith and her comely dental hygienist host are standing right behind him, all unbuttoned and come-hither sexuality. She did not choose this body by coincidence. "Hello, Sam," she coos.



Sam's fear disappears at once, replaced by implacable resolve, and his lip curls as her eyes shine white. "I've been waiting for you," he says.



Lilith cuts right to the chase, rather than wasting any time on idle chitchat. "Where's the knife, Sam?" she demands, a patronising sneer to her voice. Glowering, Sam tells her it is on the nightstand, by the bed, and she strolls casually toward it but stops short before stepping onto the rug.

Of course it was never going to be that easy, for either of them. Why would Sam be so cooperative if he wasn't trying to trap her? And why does she care so much about that knife anyway? She doesn't want it used against her, sure, but Alistair seemed pretty immune to its power, so it isn't a huge threat.

Anyway. Beneath the rug, of course, is a devil's trap, which Lilith disdainfully destroys with a touch of a finger, and Sam fidgets, annoyed and a little disconcerted that his first salvo has been shot down in flames already. Lilith raises her eyebrows. "You're going to have to try a lot harder than that."

"How 'bout this?" Sam offers, raising a hand to blast her with the same power he used to destroy Alistair.



Lilith's hair flutters in the wind, as if she's a model in a shampoo advert, but Sam's best effort otherwise has no effect on her whatsoever, no matter how hard he strains – and he is trying much harder than he did against Alistair.

That was two episodes ago now, and there has been no suggestion that he called Ruby for a boost before this encounter. Having defeated Alistair, Sam was confident that he also now had what it would take to defeat Lilith. So now I'm curious about how the demon blood works. Does the power Ruby gives Sam wear off after a while? How does that tie in with the 22 years incubation and the way the special children seemed to grow stronger with time and practice, rather than weaker? Or is it just that Lilith is more immune to Sam's abilities than Alistair was, despite being much the same level of demon, but if so, why?

For whatever reason, Sam can't touch her, and he is deeply dismayed. He was so sure that he was ready, that this was his chance to finally end it all, had his heart set on it, but he has failed, and is freaked at the thought of what she might do next.



"You're strong," Lilith simpers. "But you're not that strong. Not yet."

She might want to bear in mind, however, that Alistair said much the same thing – and Sam destroyed him the very next time they met.

"So why don't you throw me around then?" Sam challenges, and he sounds both angry and scared.

"Because I can't, and you know it." Lilith also sounds angry. "You're immune to my charms."

Ooh, I kind of love the double meaning in that statement, because she is referring to her powers, mostly, but there is also a level of sexual innuendo in there, as well, which she throws down almost as a challenge, baiting Sam. Chuck's prophecy has her seducing him, after all. But that prophecy remains incomplete, even now.

Stalemate. It is actually kind of awesome that these two are both so very powerful, and yet cancel one another out, so that their big showdown sees them reduced to trading verbal blows.

"Seems we're at a stalemate." Lilith sounds disgusted. Sam asks her why she is here, and she shrugs. "To talk."

Sam laughs out loud at that, a humourless laugh of disbelief. "Yeah, well. I'm not interested," he states, right up front.

Lilith prowls around him like a cat circling its prey. "Even if I'm offering to stand down?" she goads. Sam is taken aback, and she presses her advantage, elaborating, "From the Seals, the Apocalypse – all of it."

Sam is deeply sceptical, as well he should be. "You expect me to believe that?"



"Honestly? No," she admits. "You were always the smart one. But it's the truth. You can end it, Sam, right here, right now. I'll stop breaking Seals, Lucifer keeps rotting in his cage. All you have to do is agree to my terms."

It's a fascinating offer, not least because she is so deliberately tapping into what Sam wants more than anything: to end the war here and now. It is a hook – but for what?

"Why would you back down?" Sam shoots back at her, scathing, wearing his bravado like a shield. "Why now?"

Lilith turns away from him. "Turns out I don't survive this war," she casually explains. "Killed off right before the good part starts."

Right. And she knows this how, exactly? As far as I recall, demons can't usually see the future…although, having said that, Sam's visions came from the demon blood, so who knows? But even if she has got her hooks into a psychic of some kind, they don't usually see that far into the future. It is curious, not least because if Lilith is telling the truth and really has foreseen her own doom, she clearly believes that she will be able to change that fate, much as Sam managed to change the outcome of events from several of his visions – the difference between a psychic and a prophet, I suppose.

But is she telling the truth? Or is this just another elaborate bluff? We just don't know the character well enough to judge, as she has remained such a murky, background figure always, preferring to send minions to do her bidding rather than get her hands dirty. This appearance does her no favours, either, as she comes across as startlingly ineffectual for Show's current major antagonist.

Sam keeps his guard high. "What do you want?" he hisses.



Lilith shrugs. "For it to go back to the way it was – before I had angels to deal with 24/7. The good old days when it was all baby blood at the time."

Ick, the imagery! Okay, that line paints a nice picture of who Lilith is supposed to be, but it is still all talk and no action. Come on, Show – show, don't tell!

Sam remains focused. "And what do you want in return?" he pointedly asks. Demons always have an ulterior motive – a point he should, perhaps, bear in mind in terms of Ruby.

"Your head on a stick," Lilith immediately, blithely explains, taking great pleasure in making him squirm. Sam scoffs in reaction, as if he should have guessed it would be something of the kind, and Lilith is quick to add her second condition. "Dean's too."

Ooh. Sam's nostril flares, although he manages to keep his poker face otherwise intact. Yeah, he's not so keen on that idea. His own life for an end to the Apocalypse might not sound so unreasonable; it is his to trade, after all. But his brother? And yet this is Sam, who has frequently proved willing to bargain with the lives of others in exchange for what he wants in the past, so it isn't so completely out of the question as it might seem, and adds up to an intriguing gambit on Lilith's part.

It is still a ridiculous offer, though, when you think about it. Lilith has announced that she is going to die, which suggests that the brothers might actually win. And she wants Sam to exchange that future for one in which he and his brother are dead and Lilith is free to do whatever she wants, including continue her nefarious plans via some inevitable loophole in the deal she is offering.

"Call it a consolation prize," Lilith continues. "So, what do you say, Sam? Self-sacrifice is the Winchester way, isn't it?"

Well, she's right about that, at least!

"You really think I'm stupid enough to fall for this?" Sam grits out.



You know, this scene works pretty hard to get just enough doubt layered in there to create an element of tension. We all know that Sam isn't going to fall for Lilith's wiles – but will he be suckered in by her offer? He has to decide what to do, if she is telling the truth, if the end is worth the means, and he has to make that decision by himself, because there is no one else. This particular story really has ended up all on Sam's shoulders – but is that what Chuck was referring to? Sam still believes that the battle as a whole is all on his shoulders, as well, which is why he has to take Lilith seriously, whether he actually considers taking her offer or not.

But then again, we all know that he could never take the deal she is offering, not least because it would condemn Dean to hell again, and Sam could never do that to his brother, surely not even to save the world.

"I make a deal, I have to follow through. Those are the rules and you know it," Lilith insists, stepping right up close into his personal space. But, again, is she telling the truth? It is unlikely – there can be no doubt that she would find a loophole that would allow her to continue with her plans. "Are you really so arrogant that you would put your life before the lives of six billion people?" she goads. "Maybe it's all that demon blood pumping through your pipes. A man after my own heart."

Ooh, way to hit Sam right where it hurts, taunting him with his fear of becoming a monster. Kudos to Sam for not falling for it, for retaining a clear head and not letting her get to him. "You think I'm like you?" he seethes. "I am nothing like you."

"Then prove it," Lilith coldly snaps.

She is applying a lot of pressure to get him to take the deal – and no demon does anything without an ulterior motive. She really wants Dean and Sam out of the picture, and that tells a story of its own. According to the angels, Dean is the only person who can stop the Apocalypse. Sam is wielding some pretty awesome power these days. Lilith is scared – regards them both as a real obstacle to her plans. And, of course, she could take Dean out with a snap of her fingers, if she so chose, because he is defenceless against her powers, but that wouldn't help her with the Sam problem, since he is so completely immune to her, and any direct attack upon his brother would only serve to set him all the more upon the warpath, so she had to try something a little more elaborate and cunning. This, apparently, is what she came up with.

She steps away and turns her back, crooning, "Going once, going twice…"

"Fine," Sam angrily snaps, and it is a moment that sends chills down the spine, because he just agreed to sacrifice his brother's life as well as his own. The demon's lip curls in triumph, where he can't see it, because she thinks she's got him right where she wants him, and the parallel with Dean's crossroads deal back in All Hell Breaks Loose is striking – and stands as evidence of just how wrong this deal would be. And even though we know Sam well enough to be sure that he is trying to play the demon at her own game it is still chilling to see him playing with fire like this – especially after this family's history with demonic deals.



Lilith swivels on her heel to face Sam again. "Swell," she beams. "By the way, a contract with me will take more than a kiss. A lot more."

She sits on the bed and pats it invitingly, and something like alarm flickers across Sam's face, because this is Chuck's vision and he knows it, and hates it, but it is also an opportunity, because the knife is still sitting on the nightstand alongside the bed, and he's been making this up as he goes along ever since his powers failed to make any impression on Lilith, trying to find his way to just such an opportunity as this.

But, you know, he really, really should have set up some kind of trap under the bed, or something, since the vision so definitively placed Lilith there – but he rejected that vision too completely to have taken such precaution, perhaps. Multiple hidden traps around the room would give him more room to manoeuvre.

"Don't worry," Lilith coos. "The dental hygienist in here? She wants it bad."

I like that reminder that there is an innocent host trapped inside that body who cannot give her consent. Regular viewers know Sam too well to believe that he would really do this, but the scene is definitely aiming at making us doubt, highlighting Sam's recent deceptions and ruthlessness by having him play it so very stone cold.



Ominous music plays as Sam walks slowly toward the bed. Show has been playing on the concept of Sam going dark side, whether knowingly or unwittingly, for a long time now, and this episode and this scene are very much aimed as making us wonder if this might be just another milestone along that path, another step in the wrong direction taken in the name of good intentions.

Eyes flicking white, Lilith lies back and runs a hand up Sam's thigh – and he curls his fingers away from her, reflexively recoiling from her touch, but then steels his nerve and slowly lowers himself onto the bed to straddle her….

At the last moment he grabs the knife off the nightstand, revealing the double cross he was attempting, but Lilith is too fast and too strong, anticipates this ploy and overpowers him with ease, snatching the knife out of his hand and raising it for the killing blow…

And at that moment the door bursts open and Dean and Chuck come charging in.

Wow, talk about good timing – fortunate for Sam, perhaps, that they didn't arrive just a few seconds earlier to catch him in what would have looked like an incredibly compromising position indeed! As it is, Dean has arrived just in the nick of time to save Sam's life, and it is a timely rescue in more ways than one. Sam has accused his brother more than once of being weak and cowardly, too afraid of Lilith to attempt to fight her, and now here he is, charging to the rescue despite the fact that he is so very vulnerable to her powers. No running and no hiding. It's about picking your battles, he told Sam earlier. This confrontation was enforced, partly because Sam insisted on it and partly because it was fated to take place, but Dean has made it work by seeking out a strategy that he believes stands a chance of success, rather than diving in half-cocked. I hope Sam takes note.

"I am the prophet Chuck!" Chuck declares, trying to instil as much command into his quavering voice as he possibly can, and it is adorable, and now I wonder how he will write all this up, a story that he has participated in rather than something he saw in a dream. How will his narrative style be affected by his experiences?



Lilith snarls, stepping away from Sam and advancing toward the newcomers. "You have got to be joking," she protests, while I wonder why she is bothering with physical threats and verbal sparring instead of just tossing her usual blast of white light at them to get it all over with, but I don't have time to wonder for long, for at that moment the room starts to shake.

"Oh, this is no joke," Dean announces, satisfied that his plan is working. "See, Chuck here has got an archangel on his shoulder." The room begins to flood with brilliant white light, and Dean has to shout to be heard above the rumbling. "You've got about 10 seconds before this room is full of wrath and you're a piece of charcoal! You want to tangle with that?"



Again, I wonder why an archangel hasn't been sent after Lilith from the beginning, to end the war neatly and easily. Is it that heaven struggles to pinpoint her location most of the time because she shields herself, or something? Or maybe it is still all about prophecy and non-interference, allowing events to work themselves out and seeing what everyone does in the process.

Regardless, the structural damage the archangel's approach seems to be causing within the room strikes me as something of a note for concern, bearing in mind how damaging we know pure angelic power is to humans – surely endangering the prophet's life in the process of the rescue mission would be considered counter productive!

Lilith looks from Dean's face of steely determination to Sam's shocked and dumbstruck expression, and gives up, exiting her appropriated body in a rush of black smoke and fleeing through the back window, while the dental hygienist collapses to the floor unconscious.

Immediately the rumbling and crashing and white light vanish as the archangel withdraws. It's about picking your battles, Dean said. The archangel could have ended the war here and now if it had been a little quicker on the draw, but then again doing so would have risked three human lives.

Struggling to regain his composure, Sam shoots anxious little glances at Dean, who only meets his eyes once, for the briefest of seconds, and then looks away again, because damn but there is still so, so much hanging between them, between Sam's lies and Dean's mistrust. It feels like such a horribly long time since they represented a unified front.

And it seems Chuck never did see the end of this scene in his dreams, so we have no way of knowing if Dean actually did change the course of events or if this is how the scenario was always going to play out, one way or another.

Road

The tarp on the Impala's read window continues to flap in the wind as the car zooms along, the brothers leaving town now that this is all over.

I wonder where they are going. Back to the haunting they abandoned in the teaser, perhaps? I also wonder how they left things with Chuck. Did they agree to keep in touch? After all, they know now that they can't stop him writing, and you'd think they would consider his prophecies potentially useful – although this experience should have clearly demonstrated the pitfalls therein.

"So, a deal, huh?" Dean muses, at the wheel, revealing that Sam has, on this occasion, been completely honest and told him everything. But then again, Sam had nothing to hide regarding that encounter, since it had nothing to do with his secret.

"That's what she said," Sam wearily agrees, sounding almost as despondent as Dean did at the start of On The Head Of A Pin. Life and fate and war are wearing them both down so very badly.

"Calling the whole thing off? Angels, Seals, Lucifer rising – the whole nine?" Dean continues, and Sam agrees that that was the gist of it. Dean contemplates this. "Huh."

"What?" Sam's interest is sparked enough that for the first time in this scene he begins to look engaged with the conversation.

Dean keeps his eyes on the road. "You didn't think once about taking it?" he asks in measured tones, this scene providing a direct parallel to the closing scene of Crossroad Blues, when Sam asked Dean if he had considered taking the proposed Dean to resurrect John.

"Are you kidding me?" Sam scoffs, indignant, but Dean shoots hard eyes at him. Yes, he very seriously wants to know the answer to the question. "You just spent all day trying to talk me off the Lilith track!" Sam points out. "She'd have found some way to weasel out of it. And all it'd cost us was our lives." He sounds bitter.

"I guess you're right," Dean agrees, sounding very noncommittal. It is hard to tell if he is suggesting that he would consider taking such a deal if he thought it was genuine, or if he is just testing Sam to try and find out just how tempted he was.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Sam continues, a fierce kind of satisfaction flooding his face and voice, and Dean wonders what the point it, then. Sam elaborates on his line of thought. "The point is she's scared. I could see it. Lilith is running."

Oh, man, Sam's face – he looks so very, very vengeful and so very delighted to think of his enemy on the run. It is the kind of grim satisfaction that is highly reminiscent of John on the trail of the Yellow-Eyed Demon, and it is the side of Sam that is scariest. He is so very badass and so very, very obsessed.

"Running from what?" Dean looks worried, because he finds this side of Sam pretty alarming, too.

"Don't know," Sam shrugs. "But she was telling the truth about one thing. She's not going to survive the Apocalypse. I'll make sure of that."

Whoa, Sammy – way to send shivers down my spine. Dean looks very worried about where all this is leading.

Chuck's house

Sleeping off his recent crazy experiences on the couch, Chuck experiences yet another vision and wakes up horrified by what he saw.

"Did you see it?" a level voice nearby mildly asks, and Chuck jumps out of his skin all over again, shooting upright to see a strange man sitting nearby watching him. It is Zachariah, who introduces himself with a rather shark-like smile when asked. "You may know me from your work," the angel adds, which kind of amuses me.



I'm also now wondering just how upset Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc are about losing one of their senior managers to the heavenly chorus!

"What do you want?" Chuck tremulously asks, terrified by the double-whammy of nightmare and unexpected celestial visitor.

Instead of answering, Zachariah repeats his earlier question. "Did you see it?"

Chuck nods. "Is it true?" he quavers. "Is all of that really going to happen?"

Zachariah shrugs eloquently. "Have you been wrong so far?" he pointedly asks, because heaven forefend that any angel should ever give a straight answer to a straight question.

But hang on. Is Zachariah implying that he knows what Chuck saw? Because that would imply that Zachariah has knowledge of the future, which brings us again back to that brainteaser of angels participating in a war of which they already know the outcome. Although, again, Castiel doesn't seem to know that much, but then again he is a foot-soldier, while Zachariah is more of a commanding officer, but still – it all does weird, paradoxical things to my brain.

Freaking out at the implication – which is, of course, that he just got spoiled for the season finale – Chuck determinedly bounces to his feet. "I've got to warn Sam and Dean," he declares, which goes at least some way to answering my earlier musings. Clearly he and the brothers have exchanged numbers, at the very least, in the interest of ostensibly keeping in touch.

"I wouldn't advise it," Zachariah coolly retorts and Chuck is startled and stares in shock at the angel as he smilingly explains, "People shouldn't know too much about their own destiny."

See, now, I kind of agree with that, and really enjoy that Zachariah is such a morally ambiguous character. Because…the more they know about the future the more they will centre their actions and reactions around what they know, getting more and more mired in that one set of circumstances, instead of acting and reacting freely and with open minds. Plus, of course, this whole episode has clearly demonstrated the folly of trying to operate based off Chuck's initial interpretation of a vision that may not yet be complete. But on the other hand, Zachariah could just be trying to steer events in the direction he wants them to go, preventing them from even trying to change the future. Which again makes me puzzle over the fact that one the one hand angels are actively fighting to prevent the Apocalypse but on the other at least some of them already seem to know the prophesied outcome and so are merely taking steps to ensure that destiny remains on track, for better or for worse, and…it is very confusing!

Show likes to hedge its bets.

Chuck's face falls and he turns away, and the angel calls after him. "You try. And I'll stop you." Ooh, so damn menacing.

Chuck sees clearly that he is basically completely screwed and trudges toward the other room, heavy-hearted and despairing. Zachariah asks where he is going, and Chuck wearily snaps, "To go kill myself."

Eh, that's such a melodramatic reaction, but makes the point loud and clear of just how horrified Chuck is by what he saw, and he is such a fabulous character because he is so very ridiculous and feeble and a drunk, but he also has this quiet air of gravitas, and right now he just looks so damn tired and hopeless, which…why? What did he see? Does the Apocalypse happen? Do the brothers fail? Will they be torn apart? What???

Zachariah has the gall to chuckle, and breezily replies, "Don't be melodramatic, Chuck. We'd only bring you back to life."

Ooh, I love that that is both a threat and a promise, and that this heavenly being can be so sinister – exactly what an Old Testament style angel should be, in a way I never really felt with Uriel. He was always too earthy and gritty for my taste, for all his disdain for humanity.

Also, hearing Zachariah so casually talking about bringing Chuck back to life, I wonder how serious he is about that, and if the same thing would be done for Dean if he managed to get himself killed again along the way, since he is considered so important in the grand scheme of things. If that were possible, it could explain why they haven't been too bothered about protecting him since his return, despite the many life-threatening situations he's got himself into. Then again, a lot would depend on what happened to his soul after he died – after all, it took them a lot of time and effort to get him out of hell last time. But we have no way of knowing what would happen to his soul if he died again, one way or another.

A look of impossibly weary despair washes across Chuck's face. "What am I supposed to do?" he quavers.



"What you always do," Zachariah assures him. "Write."

Because…it kind of makes sense that heaven would want Chuck to keep a record of what is happening – biblical events always had someone to act as scribe in some way, so that a permanent record would be preserved for posterity.

The episode fades out on Chuck, despairing.

So. This episode is entitled The Monster At The End Of This Book in reference to a children's book of the same name based on the television series Sesame Street. In this book, Grover is horrified to learn that there is a monster at the end of the book. He begs the reader not to finish the book, so as to avoid the monster, constructs a series of obstacles in an attempt to prevent the reader from advancing, and is awed by the staying power of the reader who carries on regardless. However, the monster at the end of the book turns out to be lovable, furry Grover himself. Grover jokes that he tried to convince the reader that the monster would not be scary – but we see at the end that he is embarrassed.

Such a self-referential work strongly reflects the self-referential nature of this episode, of course, and also begs the question: just who is the monster at the end of this book, and is that supposed monster really so monstrous after all?

April 2009

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