Inside the house, it's still all bicker, bicker, bicker. At this point, even Sam has to be kind of hoping the hellhound takes them all out. With his own pair of special glasses on, he peers out the window. A dog-shaped blob of smoke creeps around outside. While Sam's back is turned, Alice slips out of her cuffs and makes a run for it. Sam chases after her and catches her as she reaches her car. The hound snarls somewhere nearby. Sam pushes her back toward the house for her own safety.
Ellie tells Dean the story of how she came to make a deal with Crowley. She was a kid, living with her mother who worked for the Cassitys. On the night of that dinner party, Crowley found her and asked if she had a wish. "My mom, she had Parkinson's," she says. "Early stages, but I know how that story would end. So I took the deal." Her mother is alive and well in Phoenix. "Stupid move, Ellie," Dean says. "I did it for my mom, Dean," she says. "What would you do for your mom?" So Dean tells her all about the time he did the same thing for his brother and it almost led to the annihilation of the human race. Actually, he doesn't say any of that. But he does found out that Crowley didn't divulge a lot of important details when he made his deal with Ellie. Dean should totally try to get the deal nullified on those grounds, but these are Herculean trials, not Law & Order trials, as we've established.
A hound howls nearby. When Ellie looks to Dean for reassurance, the face staring back at her is monstrous. Dean's eyes are milky white, his flesh rotting and gray. He's got a nice frosting job going on with his hair, though. Ellie backs away. "Ellie, whatever you're seeing, it's not real," he says. "It means the hellhound is close." He draws a circle of goofer dust and instructs her to stay inside it.
He heads into the barn to confront the hound. With his glasses on, he can see its amorphous outline. "Ah, so you're Crowley's bitch. I guess pets really do look like their owners!" Crowley really looks more like a Boston terrier. He keeps taunting the hound, trying to get it to come at him. Somebody screams in the distance. Dean is distracted just enough for the hound to take a swipe at him and throw him across the floor. The knife goes one way, his glasses another. Defenseless, blind and bleeding, Dean can only lie there as the hound's smoky breath signals its approach. Ever so luckily, Sam is there to shoot the beast. It leaves Dean and lunges for Sam. Sam dives for Dean's fallen knife and stabs the hound in the throat as it looms over him. Sam is doused -- or bathed by its black, tarry blood. Dean, who's been struggling to prop himself up this whole time, finally collapses to the ground.