Metallicar. Sam, miraculously healed of all his wounds, attempts once more to reach Ava, but ends up leaving her yet another message when the call falls into voice mail. Our Dear Boys natter about Gordon's prospects in prison for a bit before Dean shoots an affectionate side-eye at Sam and playfully warns, "Dude, you ever take off like that again..." "...you'll kill me?" Sam just as playfully finishes for him. "So not funny," Dean grumps. "So, where to next, then?" Sam wonders, changing the subject because the script says he must, because the script says we need to stop everything fun to listen to an endless dialogue about Capital-D Destiny with fewer than three minutes left to go in the episode. It's making me wish Raoul were awake to scream for more gore. "Snurf? Gore?" Ooops! Go back to sleep! No gore! Well, not yet anyway.
So, where were we? Oh, yeah. Dean replies, "One word: Amsterdam," because Dean's still on his whole "screw the job, let's have some fun" kick from the end of the last episode, though I must admit it's not nearly as fraught with The Angst this time around. Long story short, Sam ends up insisting, "You can't run from this, and you can't protect me." At this last, Dean shoots Sam A Look. "I can try." Fangirls by the thousands spontaneously combust. "Thanks for that," Sam offers softly with his trademark sincerity. And the fangirls that didn't blow up at Dean's line just blew up at Sam's. "Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting," Sam states. "Whatever's coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, I guess you're gonna have to stick around." Dean shakes his head, knowing he was going to stick around anyway, and snorts, "Bitch." "Jyeeeerk!" Sam replies, completing the familiar call-and-response refrain. They enjoy an easy-going silence for a moment until Sam redials Ava's number. It hits her voice mail again, which -- because the script says it must -- activates Sam's Spidey-sense this time around. Sam quickly convinces Dean to make a side trip to Peoria. DUN!
House Of Ava, later that night. Our Intrepid Heroes, pulling a little bit of flashlight-fu, barge into the place like they own it and start bellowing for its occupants. They both shut up quickly enough, though, when they round a corner into the bedroom to find Ava's fiancÃ© swimming in a pool of his own blood beneath the duvet. "...gooooooooooooooore!..." Raoul croons in his sleep, his nostrils flaring to emit a tiny puff of smoke as he unconsciously tightens his grip on the Special Moments With My Special Agent scrapbook. Awww. Precious. Dean runs his flashlight's beam up the guy's blood-spattered leg and across his crimson torso before landing it squarely on the near-decapitating gash torn through his throat. Dean then shifts his attention to the windowsill, which he finds sprinkled with sulphur. "Demon's been here," Dean needlessly elaborates. Sam looks deeply pained -- a pain that instantly deepens into Action Sammy's Super-Emo Wincing Mien Of Agony when he quite literally stumbles across Ava's antique engagement ring in the middle of a rapidly drying bloodstain on the carpet. "Ava!" Sam whispers bonelessly as The Plaintive Piano Of Oh, Jesus, Here We Go Again With The Goddamned Angst escorts us into the final blackout.