Supernatural (2005–…): Season 7, Episode 6 - Slash Fiction - full transcript

Two Leviathans are impersonating Sam and Dean and going on a killing spree. Now, Sam and Dean are the most wanted criminals in the country.

- Hello.
- Bobby Singer?

My surgeon is a monster.

Please get your ass here to
Sioux Falls General.

They're like shapeshifters,
only a lot more into eatin' folk.

And nothing can kill 'em.

- Anything else?
- Yep. They bleed black goo.

Hi, Sam.

Hi, Dean.

The spell only lasts for a few days.

The stuff you don't talk about
doesn't just go away.

- What the hell are you talking about?
- I'm talking about...



whatever you're not telling me about!

- We're good. Right?
- We're good.

You sure about this?

Trust me.

Good morning Megan.

That is a really,
really pretty dress.

Thank you.
It's vintage.

- Well, it looks new on you.
- Aren't you sweet, sir?

Call me Dean.

How can I help you today, Dean?

Well, I don't actually
have an account at this bank,

but I was wondering if there was any way...

I could get change for that?

I think I can make an exception.



- Just for you.
- Thanks.

How do you want it, Dean?

Well, I'm gonna have to take
a rain check and all your money.

Hands in the air!
Hands in the air!

Your money's insured,

so no heroes, okay?

Get in there.

You ready?

Yep.

Okay, Chet. Let's see how you
like a little fruit of the poison tree.

Isn't that just a legal expression?

You're gonna wish it was.

Oaky.

Similar finish to holy water,
not as bitter as rock salt.

And how are my two favorite meat-sicles?

Is he still sucking air?

Greatest hits didn't do the trick.

I'm down to B-sides and deep cuts.

Well, you better figure out something quick.

That whammy that witch dude put on
him is only gonna last for a few days.

He gets his spinach back, we're gonna end
up having to drop a car on him just to stop him.

Actually Edgar walked away from that car.

He's fine.

Well, he is a little pissed at you, but...

- You didn't know?
- Why don't you shut your caketrap?

Bobby, you've been using all
this stuff and he still won't talk?

Huddle over, coach?

How'd you find us?

It was easy.

I used pattern-recognition software and a basic
heuristic algorithm to track your known aliases.

Great. Just what we need...
a Mensa monster.

All right.

Let's just start with the start.

- Where'd you get our aliases?
- From your trench-coated friend, obviously.

When we were all nestled in at Camp Cass,

kind of got the full download.

That's just how we do.

So why are you talking to us, Chet?

You're not dumb.
Why you spilling state secrets?

'Cause I'm not scared of you.

You can't stop me.

You can't stop any of us.

We can't be killed,
you stupid little chewtoys.

You are aware that I'm the least
of your concerns, right?

You haven't watched the
news today, have you?

The two men, who up until
today were presumed dead,

locked the doors and opened fire,
leaving no survivors.

Sam and Dean Winchester are now the subjects
of a manhunt throughout the state of California.

Busy morning, you two?

Those sons of bitches xeroxed us.

But I don't understand how.

I don't know.

Maybe one of 'em touched you at the hospital.

It was the hair!

Not too hard to lift some DNA
out of a motel shower drain, guys!

You can copy people like that?

Awesome.

- Well, what is their plan, exactly?
- Squeeze us.

Turn us into the most wanted men in America.

All right. Well, that settles it. We find these
ass monkeys, and we kill them ourselves.

Wait a sec. Every form of law enforcement in the
country has seen your ugly mugs this morning.

- Exactly. So what's the point in trying to hide?
- Better than sticking your fool neck out.

- These things are smarter than you.
- Geez, Bobby, don't sugarcoat it.

You don't have a clue how to kill 'em
or slow 'em down, and your plan is, what?

Go right at 'em?
Genius.

They're wearing our faces,
Bobby. This is personal.

I'm with Dean here.

Well, if you're gonna be stupid,
you might as well be smart about it.

- You need to see a fella named Frank Devereaux.
- Who's he?

He's a jackass and a lunatic, but...

he owes me one, from back in Port Huron.

In the meantime,
I'll keep working on chatty Cathy here,

see if I can figure out what makes him die.

The usual?

Rhymes with sing-songs.

You guys sell protein bars?

Yeah.

But it's in the back, though.

Just give me a second.

Sure. Thanks.

Pretty sure the cashier just made me.
Drive.

Hell.

Thanks.

Special agent Morris.
This is special agent Valente.

Gentlemen. These Winchester
boys are keeping busy, I hear.

What is this, some type of psycho road trip?
The second bank, plus that convenience store?

Couple of days ago, they were dead.
We know about what you know.

Excuse me.

Actual serial killers?

Crime spree means paperwork.
Lots of it. Which you'll be doing.

We gotta go.

Winchesters spotted at a gas n' sip.

It's about a thousand miles
from here. That's fast.

- Must have flown.
- That or Batmobile.

You sure this is the right place?

Yeah.

Frank, you in there?

Frank?

Frank?

Frank?

Frank, anybody here?

Hello?

Anybody home?

Well, well.

Spider caught some flies.

Well, I'll be darned.

Psycho Butch and Sundance.

- You're on CNN right now.
- No, no, that's not us.

I know. Can't be.
Unless you had a teleporter.

Do you have a teleporter?

No, sir.
We don't.

Well, my condolences
on the doppelgangers.

Now, who sent you?
NSA? The feeb?

March of dimes?

Bobby Singer sent us.

Or not. Who?

He said you could help.
He said you owed him, from Port Huron.

Guy saves your life one time, and,
what, you owe him the rest of yours?

That's usually how it works, yeah.

Oh, yeah.

I know that Bobby's
into that magic hooey, but...

truth is, the government have
been cloning people for years.

Guess it was just your turn in the barrel.

- Well, actually...
- Forget it. He's rolling.

Yours have been busy beavers.

You're number two on the most wanted list.
Quickest climb up the charts since Donna Summer.

So, what do you think we should do?

Cuba's nice this time of year.

No, we're not hiding.

Is he always this stupid?

Look, we got to stick around
and kick a couple asses.

So, we just need you to
get us further off the grid,

but keep us on the board.

Well, first thing we got to do
is wipe all your old aliases.

No more rock shoutouts.
It's Tom and John Smith from now on.

And no plastic.
Cash only. And...

change your phones on a very frequent
non-schedule schedule, you understand?

And try to stay out of view
of the 200 million cameras...

that the government has access to, 'kay?

- 200 million?
- Big brother, he has many eyeballs, my friend.

You see a place that even looks
like it can afford security,

you just ease on down the road.

This...

This is your laptop, right?

Yeah. That's mine.

What are you...
What was that?!

- Thank you, I guess.
- No problem.

- You owe me five grand, cash.
- What?

Unless you wanna go comparison shop
at the mall, sweet cheeks.

Say hi to the cops for me.

Okay.

Let's blue steel you up some new I.D.,

Mr. and Mr. Smith.

Do it again!
Come on, do it again!

So you're just gonna touch me in the morning,

- then just walk away?
- Are you still talkin'?

- Aren't you sick of this yet?
- You bleed.

Black... Snot, sure,
but you bleed, you can die.

Sure, sport,
whatever you say.

Try the acid again, why don't you?

Poor sap.
You're stumped.

Give it a rest, mouthy.

How long you think these'll hold
once the spell wears off, hmm?

Tick tock, old man.

I'm gonna really enjoy eating you,

- right down to that hat.
- I said shut up.

And then I'm gonna eat everyone
you ever said hello to.

Hot damn.

Well, that's somethin'.

I marked all the towns your stunt
doubles hit so you can see the pattern.

All right, great.

So, what is the pattern?

No clue, man.
I can't see it.

- Seems random.
- Little tip from a pro...

There is no such thing as a random series
of robbery murders by your evil twins.

Well, have yourself some uppers
and look at that some more.

- Good luck.
- Thanks, Frank.

For what?
Sending you to your death?

Your doubles want to be on "Candid Camera,"
put you in the line of fire. Now,

I'd lay low, 'cause I love life
and its infinite mysteries.

But you two want to be dumb,
that's fine.

At least have the common
sense to ditch your car.

Excuse me.
What?

Your doublemints,

they're using a car just like the one outside.

What the...

What the hell are you doing here?

You're all charm, Bobby.

So my therapist keeps telling me.

- How'd you find me?
- I'm a cop, remember?

You gonna invite me in?

Well, you may not want me to.
I got one of the big mouths downstairs.

So I won't go downstairs.

I, uh...

- I wanted to come thank you.
- Thank me?

Well, yeah.
Seeing as they were fresh out of...

"thanks for saving me from
liver-eating surgeon" cards at the store.

Oh, that.

Just doing my job,
which nobody pays me for.

Right.

How you doing, Bobby?

I'm fine.

Every day is a gift.

Your house just burned down.

As you can see,
I got a roof over me.

Bobby!

Let someone be nice to you
for five minutes?

Okay.

But not too nice.
I can't be going soft.

'Course not.

I can cook.

Ish. You know?
Why don't you let me make you something?

Maybe put this new place
of yours in some kind of order.

Come on.

I owe you that much.

Okay.
Thanks, sheriff.

Jody.

Did you think it would be that easy?

No.

But it's a start.

You okay?

You know, it's bad enough that they're
ganking people, wearing our mugs,

but now this?

Have us driving around in this...

Caboodle while baby's on lockdown.

It's temporary, Dean.

Nobody puts baby in a corner.

You know that's a line from...

Swayze movie.
Swayze always gets a pass!

Right. Well, you want some tunes or something?

Here.

- Sorry, man, I...
- Just leave it.

Probably gonna be the only thing on.

- Dean.
- What?

Jericho...
the Lady in White.

Blackwater... Wendigo.

Lake Manitoc...
the kid in the lake.

- They're hitting towns we've worked jobs in.
- In order.

Since the day I left Stanford with you.

So, what, they want us to find them?

Well, one way to find out.
Next case would be in...

St. Louis.

Perfect.
Connor's Diner.

Best burgers in St. Louis.
Oh, I deserve something good in my life right now.

You know,
he has one of these every day.

And in his heart,

he thinks they're almost as good as sex.

This...

is disgusting.

Dead plants with creamy goo.

It's like eating self-righteousness.

- I mean, you tell me which is worse.
- I mean, honestly, I just... You know what?

I can't stand the guy.

Talk about a hero complex.
And he doesn't have relationships.

No, he has applications for sainthood.

Oh, and he thinks he's funny.
He thinks he's a damn comedian.

Who has two thumbs and
full-blown bats in the belfry?

I'm serious.
It's nothing but Satan-vision on the inside.

I mean, how he's walking around in a jacket
with detachable arms is beyond me.

You know, I had a brother
with this many issues once.

- Yeah?
- Know what I did?

- I ate him.
- Of course you did.

How are these guys even a threat?

Boss says they gotta go,
they gotta go.

Right.
Idea.

You wanna trade?

I mean, I'll take chuckles over schizo.

No, I like this one's hair better.

You can stay in the big one.

All right. In that case,
let's turn up the heat.

The sooner I get out of this and into
something more stable, the better.

Hold on.

Hey, kid. Hey.

Why don't you fire up
the camera on that thing?

Point it over here.

Shall we?

All right, everybody be cool!
This is a robbery!

Anybody moves,
and I'll execute every last one of you!

Choppin' their heads off won't kill 'em,

but it'll slow 'em down pretty good.

- Till they fuse back up, anyhow.
- Well, that's something, I guess.

I mean, assuming we can
even get close to them.

Believe me, I don't want you
walking right up to 'em, either.

I'm still looking for something
you can shoot at 'em.

Good times.
All right, thanks, Bobby.

Hey, you take Mayo,
right, Bobby?

You got a chick over there?

What?
No.

- Are you even working, Richard Gere?
- Shut up, you idjit.

Where are you boys off to next?

- St. Louis. That's where we...
- It's too late. They hit St. Louis.

Pumpkin-and-honeybunny'd a diner there.

Connor's Diner?

Yeah. How'd you know?

Lucky guess.

All right, so much for that.
I guess we're off to...

to Ankeny, Iowa.

- Call us if you get anything else.
- You got it.

Special agents Morris, Valente.

You were first on the scene?

- Unfortunately.
- Wanna tell us what happened?

Hey! Hey, hey, hey, hey!
Keep that up!

I didn't say you could put that down!

I want the whole world to know what
Sam and Dean Winchester are capable of.

That all of 'em?

- All but one.
- No, please, no.

Well, goodnight, St. Louis.

You've been a wonderful crowd.

Grab your socks and hose, Iowa,
'cause we're headed to you next.

- We need to alert...
- Federal, state, local... I'm on it.

Does this skin make me look fat?

Balls.

It's pretty dark in here.

High-school dropout.

A drunk like your daddy before you.

You and dad.

Now, that's a can of scorpions.

Your favorite Singer
is Joni frickin' Mitchell?

Oh, Bobby.

You are 10 pounds of sad in a 5-pound bag.

Sam, Sam.
Hold up.

Don't move.
Don't move.

Oh, no.
This is all sorts of wrong.

Those are nice wheels.

Tell you what, when this is over,
I'm stealing those rims.

Tell the kids I said hi.

Yeah.

- Bobby, we got eyes on them.
- What?

It's like looking at a funhouse mirror.

Yeah, I know the feeling.

All right, well, tell me you got something.
Otherwise, we're gonna have to get in close.

Look, just hang back for now.

It's too late. We gotta...
Hang on.

Hands in the air!

Big misunderstanding.

- Look, the guys you want...
- Shut up!

- They're right there. Just turn around. Look.
- Shut up!

Drop the phone.
Put your hands in the air.

Dean?
Dean!

Cuff 'em.

- You know the thing about you, Bobby...
- Save it.

I already know me,
handsome.

You got the gruff thing down.

Seen more death than an electric chair.

Ready to die with your boots on.

But, you know,
deep down inside...

you're no cynic.
You still hope.

You even got a thing
for that lady upstairs.

Tiny part of you thinks,

maybe after this is all done,

you and Miss Sheriff can make
your own little cabin in the woods.

That's hilarious.

You're not getting any older
than tomorrow, Bobby.

Why do you bother?

You a Browning fan?

- Come again?
- Robert Browning.

Poet.

You got that name rattling around up there
with the rest of my thoughts and feelings?

It's kind of hard to sift through
all the drunken blackouts, but...

"A man's reach should exceed his grasp."

I like that.

That's actually lovely.

Browning?

After I eat you,
I'm definitely gonna hit the library.

What the hell is that?

Get it off.
Get it off!

Get it off!
Get it off of me!

Get it off me!

Oh, sorry.
Little snafu here.

Okay, wasn't expecting that reaction.

What the hell was in that bucket?

Look, you're making a mistake.

- The real killers are back at the diner, okay?
- Is that the best you can do?

- I want my phone call.
- Oh, there'll be a call, to the FBI.

Take him to cell number one.
Take that one to the interview room.

Once they're separate and secure,
you boys call it a night.

You're making a mistake!

What, did you guys
forget something or what?

- Hey. I have a right to my phone call.
- A right?

You killed how many people last couple days,
and you want me to hop-to on your rights?

I didn't...

Please.

Just give me one...
one phone call.

Boys?

- Bobby, we got popped.
- Okay. I'll be there as soon as...

No, no, there's no time.
Look, we saw them...

they saw us.
So, we are coming to get us.

You read me?
Tell me you got something.

There's a chemical...

- Sodium borate.
- Okay, let me get Mr. Wizard on speed dial.

No, no, it ain't as weird as it sounds.
It's found in industrial cleaners and soaps...

and laundry powder.

Just look for anything
with the word borax on it.

You want me to "Desperate Housewife"
these mothers?

No, just trust me. It burns 'em
bad enough to slow 'em down.

So get the strongest
you can find. Hear me?

Borax. Burns.
Got it.

Then douse 'em,

then get close,
and then chop the heads off.

- Got it.
- And keep the heads separate!

Bobby, you're a genius.
Thanks. I...

- What'd you do that for?
- Borax? Decapitation?

What kind of sickos are
you and your friends?

Hey, you listen to me.

If you don't go get every ounce,
every drop of whatever that stuff is...

in this place right now...

- We're all gonna die!
- Well, you're crazier than I thought.

Hey!

What are you doing?

What is your problem?
We don't have time for lunch right now.

- I was hungry.
- Later.

Let's go.

What is it?

- What happened?
- I...

It's just...

I don't know what I just saw.

Let me out of here.

Okay, you listen to me,
and we'll live.

All right, keep your head down, get to the supply
closet. Get anything that says borax on it...

Bring it here.
Now. Go.

Dean!

I'm not your brother.

But I am Dean adjacent.

Sorry.

Sammy.

Not Sammy.

I just want to let you know
how much I've really grown to hate...

you and your brother
since we've been wearing you.

I just don't get it.

You could be anything.
You're strong. You're uninhibited.

You're smart enough,
believe it or not.

But you're so caught up in being
good and taking care of each other.

- What do you care?
- Because it pisses me off!

You're wasting a perfectly good
opportunity to subjugate the weak.

Cute. Really think you can
get close enough to use it?

Not until you're burning.

Here's the deal.
Dean...

thinks you're nutballs.
He thinks you're off your game.

You gonna kill me, or is this some
sort of "play with your food" bull?

All right.

All right.

You know, I guess that's why
Dean never told you that he killed Amy.

There it is.

The look on your face.
That is priceless!

That's what I've been waiting for.

Now I can eat you.

'Cause, you see,

I like my meat a little bitter.

Well, that felt good.

So...

the FBI is on the way.

Yeah, listen, about that...

Whatever I can do...

Especially if it involves lying
about everything I just saw.

Good.

I was hoping you could help us...

kind of be dead.

You know, quote unquote.

Yeah.

Yeah, I should be able to swing that.

All right.

Come on,
let's grab a mop.

Sammy?
You okay?

Yeah, I'm fine.

Let's go.

That's when I got the drop
on them and shot them both.

- You did good, sheriff.
- Here's the files.

Cause of death...
multiple gunshot wounds.

I fingerprinted them first,
of course, for your records.

Mind if we take a look at the bodies?

Their bodies were sent to
the funeral home for cremation,

as per their living wills
and religious requirements.

That must be some kind of record.
They died last night.

You can contact the funeral home.
They might still have the bodies.

As you know, once we do the autopsy,
we're obliged to release...

You had the bodies destroyed?

- What kind of backwater operation is this?
- Hey! Easy.

Forget about it.

No bodies,
no paperwork, right?

Someone once told me that was a good thing.

The good news still stands.

This case is closed.

Sam and Dean Winchester are dead.

The Winchester crime spree has
come to a violent end in Iowa,

where they were gunned down.

That should take the heat off.
For now.

Thanks, Jody.

Couldn't have done it without you.

Anytime you need me to spill something else,
you give me a call.

Actually,
there is one more thing.

Don't open it.

Even if it starts talking.

Especially if it starts talking.

When you cross over Underhill Bridge,
just toss it in the drink.

If you'll excuse me, I, um...

I got a body to bury in cement.

Dad, seriously?

Lying to the FBI, incinerating bodies,
and this stuff?

What the hell is it?
'Cause it sure isn't blood.

You're right about that, sweetie.

- It's much more than blood.
- I can explain.

Don't bother.

It's Valente.

Yes, sir, I'm with them now.

Well, unfortunately,
their heads are...

missing.

But the actual Winchesters
are dead, yes?

No, sir.
They're in the wind.

So, all that brainpower,
all those resources,

and those two field mice
are still on my to-do list?

I'm sorry, sir.

We could grab some more DNA
and double them again.

I like where your head's at,
but sometimes less is more.

Those boys coming back from the
dead again starts to strain credulity,

even for the American media, am I right?

Yes, sir.

I like a subtler approach.

Back to the vision board on this one.

Of course.

Just secure the bodies
and get back to the FBI, and...

we'll give this Winchester situation a good think.

Definitely.

- Thanks, sir.
- And, Valente?

Next time, call me with a win.
For your sake.

Please don't make me bib you.

Yes, sir.

I'm craving a latte.

You mind running across the street
before we hit the trail?

Decaf, two pumps of vanilla,
and grab yourself whatever you want.

- My treat.
- Thanks.

Mr. Roman.
I felt it was time we met in person.

I'm Crowley.
I run hell.

Yes, yes. Of course.
I agree, 100%. High time we met.

A token.

You shouldn't have.
I love a muffin.

100% organic baby uvulas.

- Gluten free.
- So considerate.

I'll cut to the chase, Mr. Roman.

Please. Dick.

Dick.

You and I control large interests...

that I feel strongly could meld,
to the benefit of all.

- You think?
- I know.

Straight talk...

we should be friends, you and I.

Why?

Why in the world would we be?

Well, I brought you here...

Dick.

I found the way to open
the door to Purgatory.

To steal every last soul, you mean.

You and that angel friend of yours.
Don't roofie me and call it romance.

I think you've got me wrong.

Now it's your turn to listen.

I'd sooner swim through hot garbage than shake
hands with a bottom-feeding mutation like you.

You demons are ugly,

lazy, gold-digging whores.

You're less than humans,

and they're not good for much
till you dip 'em in garlic sauce.

I'd never work with you, Crowley.

In fact, if I wasn't busy
with better things,

I might actively wipe your kind
from the face of the Universe.

And you'd deserve it.

Are we clear?

Keep the muffins.

Are you sure you want to dump these things?

I'm thinking they might actually
come in handy down the road.

What do you think?

Hey.

What? What is it?
Talk.

- Nothing.
- Well, that's convincing.

Did monster-us
give you the jeebs, huh?

'Cause I gotta be honest...
I ain't looking in the mirror for a while myself.

Okay.

You really want to know what's wrong?

Yeah. Yeah, you know my motto...
here to help.

"Here to help."

Kind of like you helped Amy?

- Listen, Sam...
- Don't...

don't lie to me again.

No, don't even talk to me.

Yeah, I can't.

You know what, Dean?
I can't.

- You can't what?
- I can't talk to you right now!

Dean, I can't even be around you right now!

- Okay, so...
- So I think you should just go on without me.

Go.

All right.

Sorry, Sam.