John quickens and gasps for breath. Mary caresses him, kisses him, whispers his name. Dean looks on -- full of love, full of pain, full of pity, full of shame. Dean's shoulders look much broader to us than they feel to him. Castiel lays a hand on one, and Dean's eyes seek out his. Already a pillar of salt, Mary looks back over her shoulder, and Dean is gone, but John is here and that's all that matters to her now, and will be all that matters to her, until January 24, 1979.
At the Willow Tree, Castiel stands in the shadows. Dean wakes, breathing rapidly. "I couldn't stop any of it. She still made the deal. She still died in the nursery, didn't she?" Castiel doesn't look at him. "Don't be too hard on yourself; you couldn't have stopped it." Dean rises. "Destiny can't be changed, Dean. All roads lead to the same destination." Does Dean have to choke an angel? "Why'd you send me back, then?" The you sadistic son of a wing is implied. Castiel looks compassionate but seems distant, still. "Now you know everything we do." Dean is furious. "What the Hell are you talking about?" Castiel looks over to Sam's empty, undisturbed bed. Dean's eyes follow. "Where's Sam?" Castiel says, "We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why -- what his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up." Dean doesn't care. Dean cares about the one thing he's cared most about since November 2, 1983. "Where's Sam?" Castiel says, "425 Waterman." Dean walks past him, grabs his coat, puts it on. Castiel is not done. "Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads, so stop it, or we will." Dean looks up at Castiel, his eyes full of fury or fear. DUN! Obvo. We fade to black with the nastiest three words in the English language splashed across the screen in stark white: "To be continued..."
Cindy McLennan is now a broken shell of a recapper, beaten and battered by this angst-filled piece of manipulative pulp that left her bleeding, crying and begging for more. You can e-mail her at CynthiaMcLennan[at]gmail.com, to tell her how much funnier Demian and Raoul are...unless you're Raoul.