Supernatural (2005–…): Season 10, Episode 19 - The Werther Project - full transcript

Sam looks for a magical box built by former Men of Letters, Magnus, hoping it will cure Dean, but is surprised by a deadly alarm system.

The Mark of Cain never
lets its host die easy.

It's just a curse. It can be removed.

This is purgatory.

There was something about being there.
Most days felt like 360-degree combat.

-It felt pure.

Cuthbert Sinclair.
He was named master of spells.

His work got a little crazy.

The leadership called it
"eccentric and irresponsible".

-We're done.
-So you're choosing the Winchesters.

-I'm choosing me.
-Book of the Damned is a spell book...

for creating or undoing
any kind of damnation there is.

We translate this, I think
we can get the Mark of Cain off you.

I don't trust you, but I need help.

I need the Mark of Cain off of my brother.

Something tells me you can crack this book.
The only question is:

Would you help me?

Shall we discuss terms?

-Get lost.

My show just started.
You've a record player in your room.

-Dad's speakers are better.
-Tough luck.

I need the laundry started.

The workmen have left for the day,
and I have my hands full with dinner.

And please, none of your Betty Fredan stuff.

It's not fair. I always get stuck
with the chores just because I'm the girl.

Yeah, well, tough luck.

The house is great, Ted.

It's a bit of a fixer, but it's a real beaut.

It was caught in some
ownership muddle for years...

but it finally hit the market and I leapt.

Don't spend all day down there.


Dad, where's Mom?





Everything's gonna be okay.

Everything's gonna be okay.

Everything's gonna be just fine.

# Supernatural 10x19 #
The Werther Project
Original Air Date on April 22, 2015

There's only one thing
you could possibly do for me...

that I can't, at least
presently, do for myself.

Kill my son.

He's expecting it from me.

Already has his stinking
minions on high alert.

If you're wondering how a mother can get
to the point of wanting her own son--

No, I'm really not. I'll do it.

I'll kill Crowley.

First things first.

Can you read the book?

Of course I can.

I'm likely the only witch alive
who can understand such old dark magic.

Just not in its present form.

Drink's on me.

Hey, you're not going anywhere, pal.

I'm your mortal enemy.

I've tried to kill you and your brother.

Your brother as recently as last month.

You wouldn't have come to me
if I wasn't your last resort.

You're desperate. Ha, ha.

You can stop pretending you're not.

So rude.

Now. I can't read the book
in its present form...

but there is someone who could.


Grand Coven witch.

Where do I find her?

You don't. She's dead.

Long ago, murdered for her life's work.

Her decryption formulas, her codex...

that you can find.

Bring me Nadya's codex...

and I'll break this text right open...

and give you your cure.

Where do I look?

If I were you, I'd start at home.

Who do you think murdered Nadya
and stole the codex in the first place?

The Men of Letters.

Ha, ha.




-What happened? What is this?
-I know, right?

Sex vamps, solo.

I think that's gotta be a personal best.

-You couldn't have waited?
-For what?

-For what?
-Come on, man.

I can handle it. Did handle it.

-What if you couldn't?
-I did.

It's done.

Come on, it's the only way
I can take the edge off.

I'm sorry. I don't always
like to wait around for you.

-Especiallly with you looking
at me like that. -Like what?

Like that. Like I'm some sort of
a diseased, killer puppy.

I'm sweaty, I'm covered in vamp juice.
Can we just talk about this later?

I'd like to get back to
the bunker, get my buzz on...

and pass out watching
Speed 2: Cruise Control.

We cool?


Please, let's come to order.

Men of Letter meeting minutes,
May 16th, 1956.

On the matter of Cuthbert Sinclair expulsion.

This is hardly your first offense.

You've been cited for disciplinary infractions
seven times in the course of your tenure.

But this enchanted vault of yours...

this Werther Box...

A warding spell so potent,
it achieves a theoretical rate of...

in your own words,
"98 percent lethality".

Extreme measures were warranted.

The coven's desperate to get the codex back.

The Werther Box works.

All too well, I'd say.

Working in secret...

embarking on this project
without oversight...

you left two fellow Men of Letters
vulnerable to your most potent magics.

Fletcher and Martinez
were members in good standing.

Fletcher chanced upon
the box and died in two hours.

Martinez heroically tried to shut it down.

We found him dead
on the floor beside the box...

his wrist cut.

I already apologized for that accident.

I refuse to do so again.

Why are you all so small-minded?


We were brought here...

to do great things.

To take risks.

To bring the fight to
the monsters of this world.

And yet...

to a man, you choose instead
to moulder in these stacks.

You are not men.

You are not men.

You're librarians.

Nothing more.

Before we rule on what
is to be done with you...

I'm prepared to give you
a chance to secure our leniency.

Tell us how to shut it down.

The box is still in St. Louis
with the codex. It's still a danger.

Let me tell you what you can do
with your leniency, Markham.

You know, I saw the writing on the wall.

I knew you cowards would
shut this project down.

Which is why I built it the way I did.

There is only one way...

to silence the Werther for good.

Let's just say Martinez
was on the right track.

I doubt you lot have the guts,
but you're welcome to die trying.


would you have us keep trying?

The box is to be interred
and guarded where it stands.

in perpetuity.

Bury it.

It's a bit early.

I'm over 300 years old.

Beauty sleep isn't optional.

I've been looking into the,
uh, thing we discussed.

So I got a lead...

but it's guarded by a violent enchantment.

I need a spell to break the spell.

The Cabirian invocation.

Easy to obtain, good
all-purpose disenchantment.

Great, thanks.

But it's not recommended for amateurs.

In inexperienced hands,
the invocation has a way of fizzling out.

I could come.

You might need me.

I'll take my chances. Thanks.

-Bad idea.

-I can explain.
-Yeah, don't bother.

You got three choices.

Get arrested, get your bits
blown off, or get back.

Yeah, all right. I think I'll, uh, get back.


Ahem. Hey, Sammy.

How's the case?

What are you doing here?

Well, it looks like I, uh--
I'm here to save your sack.

Look, you were right, okay?
I shouldn't have gone off solo like I did.

It was stupid.

-And selfish. It was a douche move.

If you're doing this case
by yourself to teach me a lesson...

you don't have to, okay?

-How'd you find me?

I took an etching off your notepad.

Then I decided to take a crack
at the St. Louis suicide house.

So you know about it?

I got the basics from Google.
A family moves into a long-vacant house...

one week later, three of them
dead by their own hands.

Whole family wiped out except for the
daughter. House is still under her name.

Figured she's the one
who nearly unmanned you.

See, here's what I don't get.
I mean, a cold case is one thing...

but this is subzero.

This is nothing even in our wheelhouse.
Unless you know something I don't.

Yeah. Um, ahem.

That long-vacant home?

Used to be a Men of Letters' chapter house.

Remember Magnus?

The dickwad that tried to make
a zoo exhibit out of me? Yeah.

Before he was expelled, he built Werther...

a magical box with a deadly alarm system.

Werther is buried somewhere in that house.

It was supposed to be guarded,
but the plan went out the window...

when Abaddon massacred
the entire membership in '58.

And then the house stayed in limbo
until some lucky family bought it.

Werther is a time bomb,
and it needs to be defused.

Not only is this in our wheelhouse,
it's our responsibility.

-Our responsibility?
-We're Men of Letters.

It's our legacy.

Well, if you say this is a case...

I'm in.

If you'll have me.

What did I say?

It's-- Ah.

You're not...

Fella tried to...

What do you want?

You saw him?

Oh, tell me you did.

My name is Dwight Twilley,
I'm with the Neighborhood Watch.

We're looking into a few break-ins,
and if you saw the guy...

and you could give a description,
it would be mighty helpful.

If I could just have a minute of your time?


-Tall, white fella, pretty hair.

It's a nice house you have here...


You live alone?

Just me and Gus.


So all alone in this big house, huh?
Must get lonely.

Even with, uh, Gus.

Yeah, well, I'm used to a one.

No, no, I'm fine, thanks.

Been alone here since...


After my family died,
my Aunt Pauline moved in.

She took care of me,
raised me for a few years.

Then, well...

So, what happened to your aunt?


I told her not to go in the basement.

No one goes in the basement.

What's in the basement, Suzie?

Ma'am, you okay?

-Whoa. Suzie.
-My social skills may be rusty...

but I'm no idiot.

Doorbell hasn't rung in months...

and two visitors in one hour?

One breaking in...

the other asking all sorts of questions.

I told you, I was from
the Neighborhood Watch.

Yeah, Neighborhood Watch, right.

Boy, you seen this house?

There's only one thing
in here worth getting at...

and it sure as hell ain't me.

-You came for the box.

Whoever left that
godforsaken thing down there...

I knew someday someone would come for it.

I swore never to let that happen.

He's downstairs, isn't he?

He's my brother, and we're here to help you.

You call him up here.


You call him up here!



She wants you up here now.



Get out!

Get out!

Out, out!

You bastards!

You let it out!


Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy.

You have any idea what you've done?

Put the gun down.
We can talk about this, okay?

-What's that?
-Hey, Suzie.

-You miss me?
-Oh, my God.

-What's wrong with her?
-I don't know.

Stay back.

-Stay back!

Come on, Suze.

Is that any way to treat your family?

Hello, Suzie.

What are we gonna do? Huh?

You don't have a plan,
you don't have a defense.

-You did this to us.

You let it out.

We died while you slept.




Please, stop.




Suzie, let me in, I can help you.

-You don't have to be sad...

and you don't have to be alone.

Suzie, please.

-Not anymore.
-Suzie? Hey.

-Let me in, I can help you, okay?
-Stop. Please, stop.







Survived 40 years in this house...

keeping that thing on lockdown...

and one visit from a putz like you...

I'm sorry, okay? I'm so sorry.

Lot of good sorry does me. Look at me.

Look at me.

There she is.

The first casualty of your misguided mission.

But what's another human life to you?

Anything's worth it...

long as you two make it out alive.

And how's that search going?

Any closer to a cure?

This isn't real.

You're not real.

You think Dean's the wild card,
the loose cannon.

But don't you see?

Making deals with witches,
opening Pandora's box down there.

You're the reckless one.

You'll do anything to keep clinging
to that doomed brother of yours.

How many more will die, Sammy?

You know it.
You have to be stopped.

And the only one who can stop you is you.

Do it, Sammy!

End this farce once and for all!

Told you you'd need me.

How did you find me?

Same way I just saved you.


Had a feeling you might be in over your head.

You can't be here.

If Dean sees you...


Hey, Dean, what are you doing?

Hey, chief.

No. No, it can't be you.

Hey, hey, hey.

Wake up!

Dean, whatever you're seeing, it's not real.

-Real enough to him.
-What are you doing?

He can't see me, Sam.

He's too far gone.

Can you wake him up?

I only brought enough magic for one.
Maybe if you'd told me we'd have company--

-There is no "we".

Take this all on by yourself, but the
odds are totally stacked against you.

You're not real.

Oh, spell's got its hooks in deep.

If you want him woken up...

you'll have to rip
this enchantment by the root.

The box.

If we figure out the fail safe,
we can break the spell and get the codex.

Suzie's hallucinations drove her
to suicide. Same thing with her family.

Werther's illusions tried
to do the same thing to me.

-And so?
-So I can't leave Dean alone like this.

Well, then...

we'll just have to tie up the bonny lad.

Could be fun.

Come on, Dean.
How long you gonna keep this up?

The silent treatment for me?

-We got so much to catch up on.
-Hey, look.

It's good to see you, okay? It is.
But like I said, you ain't Benny.

I'm not?

Well, shoot.

Yeah. I'm bummed out too,
but you are just a figment.

Subconscious junk my brain's throwing up to
distract me from getting back to reality.

Figment? Junk?

Well, I'll try not to be offended.

But why not trust me?

I've gotten you out before.

Besides, if all I am is
your subconscious junk...

well, then, how can I lead you wrong?

Well, how about that?

A perfect circle.

Don't look at me, chief.

You chose the way.

Here it is.

There's some kind of inscription.

It's some kind of cursive,
but the light source has dimmed.

I know what I've said about your kind...

but the man who came up with this?

The craftsmanship of the box,
the sadism of the spell work...

it's all so...

deliciously baroque.

All right, come on.

Well, now that is just creepy.

Benny, whoever you are,
I need to get out of here.

Need and want are two
different things, ain't they?

It's all a figment, right?

You, me, left, right.

But no matter which way you turn,
you keep ending up here.

You gotta wonder.

Why this figment?

Why this place?

What are you saying?

Nothing you don't already know.

This is where you wanna be.

Your happy place.

And you don't really wanna leave.

To silence the box.


Slake its thirst...

with the blood of our own.

That's it?

The blood of its own what?

The blood of our own.

Men of Letters blood.

Legacy blood.

My blood.


Remember what you said
to me when we first met?

About the purity of this place?


slow down.

Dean, stop.



This place, you don't have
to go looking for a fight.

All you have to do is
be still for one moment...

and that fight will come to you.

That's why you're here, Dean.

That's the purity you crave.

Killing with no consequence.

No, Benny.

I don't wanna fight anymore.
I'm tired of fighting.

The Mark ain't.


you can't leave, don't wanna stay.

Bit of a bind, ain't it?

Good thing there's always a third way out.

You can't say you haven't
been thinking about it.

That ain't gonna happen, ever.

Come on, Dean.

I know you can see it.

The purity, the honor.

There's no honor in that.

You just wanna wait for
the Mark to reclaim you?

Go out swinging, die topside, then what?

Maybe kill a few humans,
kill Cass, kill your brother?

-That's mighty honorable.
-Shut up.

Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot...

about your plan.

You gonna get Sam and Cass to put you down?

You really think they're gonna
keep that agreement? Come on.

Dean, let's say they do.

Do you think they will
ever recover from that?

It will ruin them.

This little back-up plan of yours, I know
you've been thinking about it for a time.

I know it's been gnawing at you.

You can't eave that job to them.

You're right.

Out there, you're sleeping.

You make the right choice in here...

you'll sleep forever.

And you won't ever hurt anyone ever again.

No one needs to know, Dean.

What happens in purgatory stays in purgatory.

How do you know this' work?

I don't.


It's working.

I always did love it here.

It's as good a place as any
to call it a day, huh?

Slow down.

Right. Okay.

No, no, no.

It wants more, Sam.

It wants it all.

The codex.

The path to the cure, it's in there.

If it wants more, it'll get more.

I'd do it.

If I really had to...

I would.

But the real Benny would never let me.

We already covered that, chief.

It's not me.

You know what else won't let me?

This thing on my arm.

For better or worse, the Mark...

it wants me alive.

Thanks, pal...

but no, thanks.

It's opening, Sammy.

It's nearly there.


Hey. Hey, hey.

Sammy, whatever you're seeing, it's a trick.

Okay? It's not real.


Hey. No, no. Hey.


Unh! Get away from me.

Don't. Don't. Dean, it's the only way.

It needs legacy blood.
Enough to take a life.

Yeah, well...

it doesn't have to come
from just one legacy, does it?

If it needs more blood, it can have mine.

Oh, well.

Overkill, don't you think?

I mean, we broke the spell...

the box is just a box.

Well, now it's scrap metal.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm great.

You road ready?

I'll be fine.

That says something, doesn't it?

Werther splits us up and within
an hour, we're on the brink of death.

Sorry about yesterday, going rogue like that.

You know what, Dean, don't apologize.

I think that makes us even.

Universe is trying to tell us
something we both should already know.

We're stronger together than apart.

Now, what could possibly be so valuable...

that it takes a spell
that nasty to protect it, huh?

No idea.

Whatever it is...

we'll keep it safe.

Well, hello, cowboy.

Oh, you've got it.

Is it enough?

To what?

To translate the book,
find a cure for the Mark.

Oh, aye.


What in the hell is this?



We had an agreement, giant.

The agreement stands.

You'll decrypt the Book of the Damned
and find me a cure for my brother.

And that is all you'll get from the book.

I'll burn the book, and I'll kill Crowley.

-But until then--
-I'm your slave?

You can't--
You can't just leave me here.

You want out?
Hurry up and get to work.

Oh, you big bampot!

[English - US - SDH]