05x07 - The Curious Case of Dean Winchester

[bunniefuu]

5.07 The Curious Case of Dean Winchester

Air Date: 28 Oct 2009

PROLOGUE

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

A Woman, Mrs. XAVIER, is reading the Weekly World News, headline: "LEADING PSYCHICS AGREE: THE APOCALYPSE IS HERE! Experts confirm the end is upon us!" She Chuckles. The door opens.

Mrs. XAVIER

Hey, babe.

Mr. XAVIER hurries upstairs without a word.

Mrs. XAVIER

Nice to see you, too.

INT. BATHROOM - DAY

Mr. XAVIER rushes into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He turns on the water in the sink and leans forward, staring into the mirror. He is a young man, but ages rapidly, skin wrinkling, hair going gray and falling out, eyes going white-blind. He stumbles backward into a cabinet, smashing glass.

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

Mrs. XAVIER hears the crash and looks up.

Mrs. XAVIER

Honey?

INT. BATHROOM - DAY

Mr. XAVIER collapses.

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

Mrs. XAVIER drops her magazine.

Mrs. XAVIER

Are you okay?

She rushes upstairs.

INT. BATHROOM - DAY

Mrs. XAVIER opens the bathroom door, takes one look, and screams.

ACT ONE

HOSPITAL

INT. HOSPITAL - DAY

Sam and Dean, in suits, hold up CDC badges.

Doctor: You expect me to believe you're CDC?

Dean looks at Sam.

Sam: Excuse me?

Doctor: It's just that you're a day early. First time in history I haven't sat on my ass waiting for you people.

Dean: New administration. A change you can believe in.

Doctor: Right.

INT. MORGUE - DAY

The Doctor pulls the corpse of Mr. XAVIER out of a freezer. He looks like a dead eighty-year-old.

Doctor: Meet Xavier. Date of birth, April third, nineteen eighty-four.

THE CURIOUS CASE OF Dean Winchester

She exchanges glances with Dean and Sam.

Doctor: I know. I ran the DNA twice. That's definitely him.

Dean: Well, he wasn't big on the sunscreen, huh?

Sam: So, what's your theory?

Doctor: All I know is, decedent's male, twenty-five years old-

Starring

JARED PADALECKI

Doctor: -and he d*ed of old age.

The Doctor walks away. Sam and Dean glance at each other.

JENSEN ACKLES

PHONE CONVERSATION

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - DAY

Sam and Dean leave the morgue. Dean is on the phone.

Guest Starring

JIM BEAVER

Dean: You were right about this one. It's definitely a job.

INT. Bobby's LIVING ROOM - DAYalternating with INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - DAY

Bobby sits in his wheelchair, phone to his ear.

Bobby: Thought so. Any other stiffs in town?

HAL OZSAN

Dean: Just the one body.

Bobby: Anything else?

PASCALE HUTTON

Dean: Couple missing persons, but usual for a town this size.

Bobby: Well, check 'em out.

CHRISTOPHER RUSSELL

Dean: You think they're connected?

Bobby: Call it a hunch.

Dean: You got it. And, by the way, how you doing?

Bobby: Doing?

Dean: Yeah. You know, just...in general?

And

CHAD EVERETT

Bobby: Oh, you mean my legs. Well, I'm just weepin' in my Haagen-Dazs. Idjit.

Bobby hangs up.

HOUSE

Dean sits on an ottoman, looking at a framed photo of an Old Man, CLIFF WHITLOW. Sam sits in an armchair and Mrs. WHITLOW sits on the sofa.

Co-Producer

Jeremy CARVER

Mrs. WHITLOW

That's the most recent.

Dean hands the photo to Dean.

Co-Producers

JERRY WANEK

SERGE LADOUCEUR

The photo is of CLIFF as a golf tournament champion, Miami Palms June 2009, holding a golf club and trophy. A USMC tattoo is visible on his right arm.

Sam: How long has he been missing?

Mrs. WHITLOW

Oh, I knew right away when he didn't come home Tuesday night.

Dean: Is there someplace he likes to go after work, maybe? A favorite bar?

Mrs. WHITLOW laughs.

Mrs. WHITLOW

No. Tuesdays, he always works

a bit late, but he always comes straight home.

Producer

TODD ARONAUER

Dean: May I use your facilities, ma'am?

INT. OFFICE - DAY

Co-Executive Producer

PETER JohnSON

Dean enters the room, looking back over his shoulder.

Executive Producer

SERA GAMBLE

He scoops a pile of papers off the desk.

Executive Producer

BEN EDLUND

He r*fles the rest of the desk and the pockets of CLIFF's coat.

Executive Producer

PHIL SGRICCIA

He pulls out a receipt and looks at it: it's for Madame Liu's Golden Palace and totals over $250.

Executive Producer

McG

Dean: 'Working late' my ass.

MADAME LIU's

INT. MOTEL CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Produced by

JIM MICHAELS

Dean and Sam walk along the corridor.

Sam: Well, at least he's consistent. Same room every Tuesday, hourly rates.

Created by

ERIC KRIPKE

Dean: Hope I got that kind of kick when I'm his age.

Sam: Yeah, like either of us will live that long.

Teleplay by

SERA GAMBLE

Dean: True.

Sam: So...what do you think's in there?

They pause.

Story by

SERA GAMBLE

& JENNY KLEIN

Dean: A wrinkly, gooey corpse.

They go on to stop outside room 44.

Directed by

Robert SINGER

Sam pulls out his lockpick kit and selects two while Dean keeps watch. A Man starts shouting inside the room.

Man: Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh! Oh, God!

Sam and Dean look at each other and slam the door open.

Man: Hey! What the-

The Man, apparently naked, is in bed with a Woman, barely dressed.

Sam: Oh.

Dean: God.

Another Woman comes out from under the covers.

Sam: It's gooey.

Both WOMEN flee the bed.

Dean: Sorry. Uh, got the wrong room.

Man: Close the door!

Dean is outside and Sam is about to close the door behind them when he notices something.

Sam: Hey.

The Man has a USMC tattoo that looks exactly like CLIFF WHITLOW's.

Sam: Nice tattoo.

Sam comes back into the room.

Sam: Happen to know anybody named Cliff Whitlow?

The Man shakes his head.

Man: Never heard of him.

Sam: Well, that's weird.

Sam pulls an ID out of the wallet that was apparently in the Man's pants.

Sam: 'Cause you're carrying his wallet.

Dean goes over to the bed and yanks up the covers to look underneath.

Dean: Huh.

Dean drops the sheets.

Dean: Your wife told us about your, uh, birthmark there. That's nice. Well, you look great. Cliff. Did you get some work done?

CLIFF shakes his head and sighs.

CLIFF

Could you give us some privacy?

The two WOMEN are robed now. Dean winks at them, then goes back to glaring at CLIFF. CLIFF, also robed now, hands one of them some money and they leave. He closes the door behind them.

CLIFF

Please don't tell my wife.

Dean: slow down.

CLIFF

I'm begging you. As far as she knows, I'm dead. For the love of God, let's keep it that way.

Dean: How can you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?

CLIFF

I can't tell you.

Dean: Well, either you tell us or we tell the missus.

CLIFF

Okay! Okay! It was a game.

Sam: Like...XBox?

CLIFF

What's XBox? No. Poker. High stakes. Instead of cash, you play for years.

Dean: What is that supposed to mean?

CLIFF

Look, I know it sounds crazy. Guy comes up to me at a bar, invites me to play. Gives me twenty-five of these weirdo poker chips, right? Chants some mumbo humbo over them, says now they're twenty-five years. I'm laughing, but then I come out up. And look at me.

Sam: What was he chanting?

CLIFF laughs.

CLIFF

How should I know? All I know is, my bad hip's good, I threw away my glasses. One of those ladies was here for free! Man's some kind of miracle worker.

Dean: What does this miracle worker

look like?

CLIFF

Just a guy. Maybe thirty-five, brown hair. Irish accent. His name was Patrick.

Dean: All right, all right. Where's this game at?

CLIFF

He said he likes to keep moving. Never stays in one bar long. And he finds you.

Dean: Thank you, Cliff.

Sam and Dean head for the door.

Dean: Oh, and, uh...stay classy.

PHONE CONVERSATION

EXT. STREET - DAYand INT. Bobby's LIVING ROOM - DAYalternating

Sam and Dean walk along the street. Dean is on the phone with Bobby.

Dean: It sounds crazy, right?

Bobby: No. There's lore on it. Goes back centuries. Traveling card player pops into town. You b*at him, you get your best years back. 'Course, most folks lose.

Dean: Well, that would explain the crunchy corpse.

Bobby: Supposedly, this player's a hell of a card shark. Got a lot of years in the bank. You find the bar he's working in yet?

Dean: There's a lot of dives in this town. We're gonna have to split up.

Bobby: Well, why you still talking to me?

Bobby hangs up. Dean shuts his phone. Bobby's keys are on a stack of papers; he grabs them as he rolls past.

BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Dean is on the phone with Sam.

Sam: Find anything?

Dean: Yeah, a whole bunch of squat. You?

Sam: No, not a thing.

Dean: All right. Well, you come up dry, circle back to the motel in two. Your turn to grab dinner.

Sam: Usual?

Dean: Extra bacon.

Dean hangs up and sits down at the bar.

Dean: Can I get a beer?

Bartender: Yep.

The Bartender reaches for a beer bottle.

Dean: You wouldn't happen to know of a poker game going on in back, would you?

The Bartender opens the bottle and passes it to Dean.

Bartender: It's a bar, not a casino.

Dean digs into his pocket.

Dean: My friend Ben told me you'd know.

Bartender: Don't know any Ben.

Dean: Sure you do. You know, balding, smart-ass, real ladies' man?

The Bartender leans forward.

Bartender: Listen, pal, I told you, I don't know any Ben. I don't know nothing about a game.

Dean: You sure? 'Cause, uh...

Dean slides a hundred-dollar bill, with its picture of Ben Franklin, across the bar.

Dean: He sure seems to know you.

The Bartender glances down, then up, and takes the bill.

BEHIND THE BAR

EXT. BACK OF BAR - NIGHT

Dean walks around behind the bar.

Bartender (V.O): 'Round back. Take the elevator down.

Something clatters. Bobby rolls out of what is presumably the elevator.

Dean: Bobby? What the hell are you doing here?

Bobby: Planting daisies. What's it look like? Came in on the case.

Dean: And you b*at me here?

Dean: Well, brains trumps legs, apparently.

Bobby rolls around Dean. Dean follows.

Dean: So, you found the game?

Bobby: Yep.

Dean: Did you stop it?

Bobby doesn't answer.

Dean: Bobby?

Bobby stops and turns around.

Bobby: Not exactly.

Dean: What did you do?

Bobby: I played, okay?

Dean: And?

Bobby: I lost.

ACT TWO

BEHIND THE BAR

EXT. BACK OF BAR - NIGHT

Dean: Are you kidding me? You played some-some he-witch?

Bobby: Don't you take that tone with me.

Dean: You idiot!

Bobby: They're my years! I can do what I want!

Dean: How many did you lose?

Bobby: Twenty-five.

Bobby ages before Dean's eyes.

Dean: We're not done.

Dean heads into the elevator.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

An OLDER Man and a Young Woman sit at the bar; he is unnamed and her name is LIA. ANOTHER Man stands next to them, chewing on a toothpick. He speaks with an Irish accent: this must be PATRICK.

OLDER Man

So, you're saying that you're a mind reader.

PATRICK

Ah, come on. No such thing. But I can read people. Take your lovely companion here.

The OLDER Man and LIA smile at each other.

PATRICK

I'd say, judging from her exquisite posture, she used to be a dancer.

LIA Chuckles, indicating to the OLDER Man that PATRICK is right on the money.

PATRICK

Not much of a drinker. Very independent. Looking for adventure.

Dean comes up behind PATRICK, grabbing him by the arm.

Dean: Hey, man. Excuse me. Can I borrow you for a sec?

Dean adjusts his jacket to show PATRICK the handle of his g*n. PATRICK glances down at it, then up at Dean.

PATRICK

Oh, yeah. Of course. Great. Good to see you.

Dean grins, nodding, and glances at the OLDER Man and LIA.

Dean heads for a table across the room.

PATRICK

Would you two please excuse me?

PATRICK follows Dean to the table.

Dean: Sorry to cut you short with Mr. and Mrs. Easy Marks over there.

PATRICK

Oh, no big.

PATRICK holds up a gold wristwatch.

PATRICK

Wasn't a total loss.

Under the table, Dean pulls out his g*n.

PATRICK

Look, I don't know what it is you think I did to your wife or girlfriend-

Dean frowns, confused. PATRICK keeps fishing.

PATRICK

-mother or sister, but, uh, I just want you to know, my feelings were real.

Dean: That ain't my problem, man-witch. You owe my friend some years.

PATRICK

Oh, that's what this is. I'm sorry. He lost. Them's the breaks.

Dean: Well, then un-lose him.

Dean cocks the g*n. PATRICK flicks a glance down.

PATRICK

Oh, go ahead and sh**t me, if it makes you feel better. Besides, I could use a good...you know...tickle. You want years? Great. Play me for 'em.

Dean: Fine.

Bobby has come up to the table.

Bobby: Dean, no!

Dean: They're my years. I can do what I want.

Bobby coughs. PATRICK holds up a cough drop.

PATRICK

Lozenge?

Bobby wheezes.

PATRICK

What? It's barely linty. Okay, well, suit yourself. just trying to help.

Dean: All right, all right. Come on. Let's do this.

PATRICK

You understand the terms?

PATRICK sets a red case on the table. He opens it, chewing on a toothpick. It contains eight stacks of poker chips. He pulls out a stack of red chips. He takes the toothpick out of his mouth.

PATRICK

Buy-in's twenty-five years.

PATRICK closes the box.

Dean: Make it fifty.

Bobby glances at Dean. PATRICK takes the toothpick back out of his mouth.

PATRICK

I like the cut of your jib.

Dean smirks. PATRICK gives Dean another stack of red chips and holds his hand over them.

PATRICK

Lannraich gu dealrach a-nis.

Light flicks along both stacks. PATRICK goes back to chewing his toothpick. Dean takes them and counts the chips in one stack.

Dean: Twenty-five. That's twenty-five years. They go to him.

Dean pushes the chips into the middle of the table.

Dean: And he's cashing out.

Bobby: Dean!

Dean: Bobby.

PATRICK

You sure?

Dean: Yes.

PATRICK nods and holds his hand over the chips.

PATRICK

Las suas agus cuir ás an teine. Mar sin bitheadh.

The chips catch fire, burn to ash and blow away. Bobby is back to normal.

PATRICK

That's twenty-five years you just pissed away. Better be sure you can win them back.

Dean taps his remaining chips.

Dean: Shuffle up and deal.

PATRICK laughs.

PATRICK

This is gonna be fun.

MOTEL

INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Sam opens the door and comes in, carrying a takeout tray with burgers and two sodas. He puts it on the table.

Sam: Hey, Dean? You find anything?

Old Man: Uh, you might say.

Sam startles and draws his g*n, aiming for the Old Man in the bathrobe.

Sam: Who the hell are you!

Old Man: Dude, relax. It's me.

Sam lowers the g*n: the Old Man is very familiar.

Sam: Dean?

Dean: Hi.

Sam: What the hell happened?

Dean: I, you know...found the game.

Dean heads for the food and picks up a burger.

Sam: You f-I thought you said you were g-good at poker.

Dean: I am. Shut up. So, you were just gonna sh**t some old guy? Is that it?

Sam: I didn't know what you were. I mean, have you seen you? You look like-

Dean talks with his mouth full.

Dean: The old chick in Titanic. I know. shut up.

Sam: I was gonna say Emperor Palpatine.

The door thuds open. Bobby rolls in. The door closes.

Bobby: I see you met John McCain there.

Sam: Yeah. Either of you want to tell me what happened?

Dean: Bobby's an idiot. That's what happened.

Bobby: Hey, nobody asked you to play.

Dean: Right. I should have just let you die.

Bobby: And for damn sure, nobody asked you to lose!

Sam grins.

Sam: It's like [i]Grumpy Old Men[i].

Dean and Bobby turn to Sam and speak in unison.

Dean and Bobby

Shut up, Sam.

Dean: What the hell were you thinking? He's a witch. He's been playing poker since guys wore tights.

Bobby: You just don't get it.

Dean: Yeah, I get it, Bobby. You saw a chance to turn the hands of the clock back and get out of that damn chair. Pretty tempting. I can imagine.

Bobby: No, you can't.

Dean: You got me. I never been paralyzed. But I tell you something-I've been to hell, and there's an archangel there wanting me to drop the soap. Look at me! My junk's rustier than yours! You hear me bellyaching? Huh?

Sam: Uh, actually, yeah.

Dean: Oh!

Dean sits down, still holding his burger.

Dean: I'm having a heart att*ck.

Sam looks, worried.

Bobby: No, you're not.

Dean: What is it?

Bobby: Acid reflux. Guys your age can't digest certain foods. You're gonna need to put down that cheeseburger.

Dean sighs and puts down the burger.

Dean: So, you want to keep emoting, or you want to talk about solving this little issue of yours? It's got to be about the chips.

Dean: I slid 'em across, Patrick did his little witchy number, and you prettied up in a hurry.

Sam: I mean, what are you all thinking? Some kind of magic chips or something?

Bobby: Definitely.

Sam sits down.

Sam: You remember what he chanted?

Bobby: Yep-every word.

Sam: All right, then let's find out where he stashes his chips.

Dean: And steal me fifty. Benjamin Button me back into burger shape. What do you think?

Bobby: I think you ought to put some clothes on.

Dean, fully dressed, goes to answer a knock on the door. It's a young, pretty MAID with a cart and an armful of towels.

Maid: Ready for housekeeping, sir?

Dean grins.

Dean: Born ready.

The MAID laughs.

Dean: You're just like my grandfather.

Dean's grin fades.

Maid: He hits on anything that moves, too.

She heads past him into the room.

Maid: You're adorable.

Dean: And dangerous.

Maid: Aw.

She laughs, heading for the bathroom. Sam smirks and so does Bobby.

Dean: Can we just go?

STREET

[i]EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Bobby, Sam, and Dean sit in Bobby's van, watching people go by. PATRICK comes out of a building. He checks his watch and crosses the street without looking, noticing too late that a car is coming: it slams right into him. The DRIVER gets out and checks his injuries: it doesn't look like PATRICK can have survived. The DRIVER runs over to a construction crew nearby.

DRIVER

Guys, get some help! He came out of nowhere! Right out in front of me!

Bobby, Sam, and Dean all stare. Another car drives by: PATRICK's in the driver's seat. The DRIVER and the construction workers look between him and where PATRICK got hit by the DRIVER's car.

Dean laughs.

Dean: I got to say, I kind of like the guy.

APARTMENT BUILDING

EXT. SKYSCRAPER - NIGHT

Bobby, Sam, and Dean have followed PATRICK here, and now watch him leave the building, get in his car, and drive off. Dean looks at Sam, who looks at Bobby, who looks at Sam, who looks at Dean, who looks at PATRICK.

INT. STateSBOROUGH APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT

Dean holds the door open while Sam rolls Bobby inside. Sam and Dean let Bobby roll himself. Bobby stops and sighs.

Bobby: Well, I'm out.

A sign on the elevator reads "ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE". Sam looks at it, then at Bobby, and sighs.

INT. STAIRS - NIGHT

Sam jogs up a flight of stairs with no difficulty. Dean walks up one step at a time. Sam stops on the landing.

Sam: Dean.

Sam points to a sign with a large 2. Dean sighs. Sam continues up the stairs. Dean glares at the sign, then, determined, follows.

INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Sam leaves the stairwell. A long pause. Dean follows, breathing hard. Sam sorts through lockpicks in front of room 3701.

APARTMENT

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

The lock clicks open. Sam and Dean enter. They search the place. Dean opens an armoire, knocks on the back, moves things, and opens the false back. There's a safe.

Dean: Sam?

Sam comes over.

Dean: Dime-store model. Piece of cake.

Dean turns the dial, squinting and leaning in and out: the numbers are too blurred for him to read.

Sam: It's like Mission: Pathetic[i]. Watch out.

Sam pushes Dean out of the way and turns the dial: it opens quickly. There are quite a few poker chips in the safe.

Dean: I could have done that.

Sam frowns at him and starts to grab handfuls of chips.

LIA

What are you doing?

Sam and Dean turn around. LIA is standing there, wearing a large silver locket.

Dean: Aren't you the chick from the bar?

LIA

I'm a lot more than that.

She throws up a hand, clenches a fist, and twists. Dean doubles over. PATRICK hurries up and puts a hand on her arm.

PATRICK

It's all right, sweetheart. It's all right. They're harmless.

LIA lets Dean go. PATRICK steps forward.

PATRICK

You boys want chips? Take 'em. They're just chips, Einsteins. It's showmanship. This may come as a shock, but the magic does not lie in a pile of crappy plywood or in any phony abracadabra. It's in the nine-hundred-year-old witch. You boys want years? Score 'em the old-fashioned way. Texas hold 'em.

PATRICK chews on his toothpick.

Dean: Fine. Let's do it.

PATRICK pulls a card out of a pocket. It's the eight of hearts.

PATRICK

What card am I holding up?

Dean squints at it and doesn't answer.

PATRICK

That's what I thought. If your eyesight's that bad, what about your memory? I'm not a m*rder*r. You, on the other hand...

Dean looks back at Sam.

Dean: No, Sam.

Sam: Dean.

PATRICK

What, Sam not much of a player? Okay, well, happy trails, Dean. Enjoy the twilight of your life. Should have taken better care of that ticker, though.

PATRICK opens the door.

Dean: You're free to go.

Dean takes the hint to leave. Sam follows.

PATRICK

Oh, but, Sam...

Sam and Dean stop at the door.

PATRICK

Your brother's situation-that's punishment enough, but I can't let you leave without a small parting gift.

PATRICK claps three times.

Sam: What are you doing?

PATRICK

You'll find out soon enough.

Dean: Let's get out of here, Sam.

They leave. PATRICK closes the door behind them.

[i]INT. CORRIDOR - NIGHT

Sam and Dean head for the outside door. Sam scratches at the inside of his thighs. Sam opens the door for himself and Dean and scratches some more.

Dean: Dude...

Sam turns to Dean.

Dean: I believe that he-witch gave you the clap.

Sam goes stiff for a moment, then marches off. Dean laughs.

ACT THREE

MOTEL PARKING LOT

EXT. CICERO MOTEL - DAY

Dean, Sam, and Bobby head towards the motel. To get there, they have to go up an incline. Sam and Dean have no trouble. Bobby tries to roll himself up and can't.

Bobby: Little help here?

Dean and Sam stop. Sam goes down and pushes Bobby up the incline. Dean walks alongside.

Sam: You know, I still think I should play.

At the top of the incline. Bobby takes over rolling himself. Dean stops walking, so Sam and Bobby stop too.

Dean: No, no, no. You're not good enough. I'm better. Bobby's way better. We both lost.

Bobby: Exactly.

Sam: So, what? So I don't get a say in this anymore?

Dean: Sammy, when you get to be our age-

Sam: You're thirty, Dean! Look, I've watched you hustle plenty of poker-

Bobby: Knowing the game is not enough, Sam. It's not about playing the cards.

Sam: It's about playing the other guy. I know that.

Bobby: Well, hooray for you. All I'm saying is, I played this guy. I know his style. I can take him.

Dean: No, Bobby. You don't have enough years in the bank.

Bobby: I got enough.

Sam: No, you'll die if you lose, Bobby.

Bobby: So what if I do, huh? What exactly am I living for, huh? The damn apocalypse? Watching men die bloody while I sit in this chair, can't take a step to help 'em?

Dean: Bobby-

Bobby: No, no. It's the facts. I'm old...and broke down...and I can't...

Bobby takes a moment to breathe.

Bobby: I ain't a hunter no more. I'm useless. And if I wasn't such a coward, I'd have stuck a g*n in my mouth day I got home from the hospital.

Silence.

Sam: Bobby, you are not playing again. I'm not letting you do that. There's another way out of this. There's got to be. And I'm gonna find it.

Sam goes past Dean and Bobby.

MOTEL ROOM

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

Dean opens the door so Bobby can roll in. Bobby looks up and stops abruptly. LIA is sitting on the bed. She holds up a piece of paper.

LIA

Take it. It'll help you.

Bobby rolls closer and takes it.

Bobby: What is this?

LIA

The most powerful reversal spell you've ever laid your eyes on.

Dean: And it reverses what?

LIA

Patrick's work-all of it.

Dean: You-you saying I could be normal again?

LIA

You and everyone else he's ever played.

She corrects herself.

LIA

Who's still alive.

Dean: Why the hell should we trust you?

LIA

Trust me, don't trust me. I don't care. The spell is real.

LIA gets up and heads for the door.

Bobby: If it zaps everyone, don't that include your man?

LIA

And me, too. I look good for my age.

Bobby: Lady, this don't add up for squat. Why would you want that?

LIA

I have my reasons.

LIA looks at her silver locket.

LIA

Do it quick. We leave town tomorrow.

LIA leaves. Dean and Bobby watch her go, then look at each other.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK chews on a toothpick. There's a glass of whiskey in front of him. On the table are five cards in a row, the eight of spades, five and four of clubs, king of diamonds, and jack of hearts, and a pile of poker chips, about three dozen. His opponent, an old man named HESH, clinks his poker chips against each other (he has at most ten), looking at his two face-down cards. PATRICK looks at his own cards: the kings of hearts and spades, for three of a kind. HESH has the nines of clubs and diamonds for one pair. HESH throws a few chips on the pile.

HESH

Bet.

PATRICK takes out his toothpick.

PATRICK

I sense you've got me by the jewels on this one, Hesh. I fold.

HESH collects his chips.

PATRICK

What are you up-like thirteen years there, Hesh? What do you say we call it a day?

HESH Chuckles.

HESH

Thanks, Patrick.

PATRICK looks up. HESH, when he realizes PATRICK is talking to someone behind him, turns: it's Sam.

PATRICK

Hesh here is gonna live to see his granddaughter's bat mitzvah. Isn't that right, Hesh?

HESH turns back.

HESH

Thanks again, Patrick.

PATRICK

Shalom, my friend. Shalom.

HESH gets up and leaves. PATRICK shuffles the cards.

Sam: That was nice of you.

PATRICK

I'm a nice guy. What can I do you for?

PATRICK keeps shuffling. Sam sits down.

Sam: Deal.

PATRICK smirks.

GRAVEYARD

EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT

Bobby sits at the foot of a grave while Dean digs.

Dean: Jawbone of a m*rder*r. Great.

He sticks the shovel in the dirt, breathing hard.

Dean: You know, this really sucks. How do we even know her spell's gonna work?

Bobby: We don't. But we ain't got a Plan B. Now, less flappin' and more diggin'.

Dean goes to move another scoop of dirt. Something cracks.

Dean: Oh, God!

Dean moans. Bobby rolls his eyes.

Dean: My elbows! I'm all creaky.

Bobby: Hurry up, you crybaby.

Dean: Pound it up your ass, Ironsides.

Bobby: One little grave.

Dean: Then you do it.

Bobby: Fine. I'll hop right in.

Dean: Well, least your legs are numb.

Bobby: Shut up and dig, Grandma.

Dean goes back to digging.

Dean: Oh! Now it's my back!

Bobby: Can you straighten up?

Dean: Yeah, but a little sympathy wouldn't hurt.

Bobby: Butt cheek tingling?

Dean: Well, that's kind of personal.

Bobby: So yeah?

Dean looks up.

Bobby: It's sciatica. You'll live. Keep digging.

Dean: You know, Bobby, k*lling you is officially on my bucket list.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK is chewing on his toothpick. He has a glass of whiskey on the table, two cards in his hand, and several stacks of chips. Several chips are piled in the middle of the table next to the four of diamonds, a red court card, a black seven, the three of hearts, and a black two. PATRICK takes the toothpick out.

PATRICK

I like you, Sam. I do. You're smart, and your heart's clearly in the right place.

Sam doesn't answer.

PATRICK throws down his toothpick and drinks his whiskey.

PATRICK

I can tell a lot about a guy by looking.

Sam: You mean you're psychic.

PATRICK

No. That'd be cheating. I'm talking about good old-fashioned intuition.

Sam nods.

Sam: Right. Let's just play.

PATRICK drinks more whiskey.

PATRICK

We are playing.

He puts the glass down next to the toothpick.

PATRICK

Does your big brother know you're here?

Sam: Bet five.

Sam drops a stack of five chips on the pile. He has a lot fewer chips left than PATRICK.

PATRICK

Didn't think so.

PATRICK puts one stack of five on another and adds that stack to the pile.

PATRICK

I raise. Here you are, right? Trying to clean up their mess, and they still want to sit you at the kiddie table.

Sam looks down. PATRICK toys with a few chips.

PATRICK

You're not the little brother anymore, Sam.

Sam looks up.

PATRICK

Then again, maybe you are. You're in over your head here, Sam. I mean, you can keep making these moves-you know, playing it cautious, playing the percentages. But I'm still gonna kick your ass into the nursing home.

Sam: Does this armchair-psychology routine usually work for you?

PATRICK laughs.

PATRICK

You tell me. You're the one who's losing.

PATRICK chews his toothpick.

A little later, PATRICK shuffles the cards, chewing his toothpick. He has thirty or thirty-five chips and Sam fifteen or twenty. Sam plays with a few of his chips. LIA walks in. PATRICK puts down the toothpick. LIA leans down to kiss PATRICK. PATRICK looks at Sam and winks.

PATRICK

Little break?

BEHIND BAR

EXT. BEHIND BAR - NIGHT

Sam bursts out of doors that read "EMMIT's PUB DELIVERY RING". He looks around and spots Dean.

Dean: How's it going in there?

Sam scoffs.

Sam: How do you think it's going? What about you? You have everything you need?

Dean: We still need a little he-witch DNA.

Sam: He was chewing it.

Sam holds up a toothpick. Dean takes it.

Sam: Hurry up, Dean. Please.

Dean: All right. Just keep him busy. And, Sammy...don't lose.

Sam goes back inside. Dean heads away, pausing to rub at his aching arm.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Sam plays with his chips. PATRICK sits back down. LIA stands behind PATRICK, who pushes the deck of cards across the table.

Bobby (V.O): Airmidh mi air maponus, dia-

BEHIND BAR

EXT. BEHIND BAR - NIGHT

A car drives in front of where Bobby and Dean are set up, Bobby reading from LIA's paper while Dean stands at the bowl full of burning things.

Bobby: -na hogalachd. Gairmidh mi air sucellus, dia na time.

Dean throws a handful of something in the flames, which flare up blue.

Bobby: Till an-dràsda obair uile gu bheilair a bhith deànta. Mar sin bitheadh. Drop it in.

Dean looks at the toothpick and adds it to the fire. A pause.

Dean: Well? How do I look?

Bobby doesn't reply; the truthful answer is 'eighty years old'.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK looks at Sam.

PATRICK.

Question.

PATRICK holds up a toothpick.

PATRICK

Is this what you meant to give your big brother?

Sam doesn't let his expression change. LIA flicks a glance at the toothpick.

PATRICK

The one you gave him never passed my lips. Won't do a scrap of good.

PATRICK throws the toothpick across the table.

PATRICK

I don't like cheating, Sam.

PATRICK stretches out his hand and clenches a fist. Sam stiffens, gasping for breath, while LIA watches. Sam puts a hand to his throat.

ACT FOUR

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK is still choking Sam via witchcraft.

LIA

Stop it!

LIA grabs PATRICK's wrist.

LIA

Patrick, let him go!

PATRICK

He tried to k*ll us!

LIA

I did it! I gave him the spell!

PATRICK, shocked, releases Sam and looks up at LIA. Sam gasps in air.

PATRICK

What?

PATRICK stands up and touches LIA's face.

PATRICK

Why...why would you do that?

LIA

You know why.

LIA touches her silver locket.

LIA

You know.

PATRICK looks away for a moment, then sits down.

PATRICK

Keep. Playing.

LIA looks away. Sam glances at her.

Bobby's VAN

INT. Bobby's VAN - NIGHT

Bobby is driving, Dean next to him.

Bobby: Everything we put in that spell was kosher.

Dean: Yeah, everything except the damn toothpick.

Bobby: You got to go get a speck of DNA. Strap on your track shoes.

Dean: Oh, goody. More stairs.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

More than a dozen chips are piled next to the eight of hearts, the queens of clubs and diamonds, and the two of diamonds. PATRICK discards a card and deals the ace of clubs. Sam has his hands folded against his mouth.

PHONE CONVERSATION

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHTalternating with INT. Bobby's VAN - NIGHT

Dean is on the phone with Bobby while he looks around PATRICK and LIA's apartment.

Dean: It's too damn clean in here. First witch I ever heard of didn't spew bodily fluids all over the place.

Bobby: Toothbrush, comb-anything.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Sam stacks five chips next to another five next to the pile.

PATRICK

Well, look at you-the percentage player betting the farm. Awful transparent of you, Sam. I mean, if I had a monster hand like you have, I'd trap you. But you get so excited, you bet yourself

right out of a big pot.

PATRICK sniffs and picks up his face-down cards.

PATRICK

I fold.

He discards his cards.

PATRICK

Set of ladies, I'm guessing.

Sam collects a couple dozen chips and turns over his cards: the three of clubs and five of diamonds, for one pair of queens. Sam stacks his chips.

PATRICK

Nice bluff. If we had time, I could make a real player out of you.

Sam: I got time.

PATRICK grins.

PATRICK

Maybe. But I can't say the Same for Dean. Your brother's gonna be dead soon.

Sam looks up.

PATRICK

And when I say 'soon'...

PATRICK leans forward.

PATRICK

I mean minutes.

Sam's expression changes, fearful, and he stands up. PATRICK extends a fist to yank him back down with witchcraft.

PATRICK

The game's not over till I say it is. Blinds.

PATRICK slaps down two chips and Sam one.

APARTMENT

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean spots a wine glass on a table, still with a little wine left undrunk. He starts toward it.

Dean: Sam...

Dean slumps to the floor, groaning.

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK deals two face-down cards apiece. Sam glances at his and adds another chip to the pot.

PATRICK

So.

PATRICK slaps down three cards and spreads them out: the ace of spades and fours of hearts and clubs. Sam eyes the cards.

PATRICK

When it's about your brother, you get so emotional, your brain just flies right out the window.

PATRICK illustrates with a hand gesture.

PATRICK

Good to know.

Sam: Go to hell.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean lies on the floor.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Sam shoves all his chips into the middle.

Sam: I'm all in.

LIA glances at him. PATRICK sighs, checking his cards.

PATRICK

Don't do that, Sam.

Sam: I can't leave until it's over? Fine. It's over. Now, where's my brother?

PATRICK

Look, there's poker and then there's su1c1de.

Sam: Just play the hand.

INT. Bobby's VAN

Bobby is on the phone with Dean.

Bobby: Dean? Dean, you there?

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean lies on the floor, gasping weakly.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK adds all his chips to the pot.

PATRICK

Fine.

PATRICK discards a card and deals the seven of diamonds.

INT. Bobby's VAN - NIGHT

Bobby is on the phone with Dean.

Bobby: Dean?!

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK deals the nine of spades.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean lies on the floor.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Sam and PATRICK stare each other down, Sam worried, PATRICK smug, LIA nervous.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean lies still.

INT. Bobby's VAN

Bobby holds the phone, worried.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK turns over his face-down cards: aces of clubs and diamonds.

PATRICK

I'm sorry, kid. Aces full.

Sam looks at the cards.

INT. APARTMENT - NIGHT

Dean exhales.

INT. BAR - NIGHT

Sam lets out a breath. He glances at LIA.

Sam: You're crying.

LIA sniffles, looking away. PATRICK and Sam watch her.

Sam: For a witch, you're so nice, it's actually kind of creepy. It's okay.

Sam looks at PATRICK.

Sam: It was a great hand.

PATRICK moves to collect the chips: the only hands that can b*at a full house with three aces are a four of a kind and a straight flush. The flop cards are three different suits, so he knows Sam cannot possibly have a straight flush, and he knows the odds are very slim that Sam has the remaining two fours.

Sam: Just-

PATRICK looks up.

Sam: -not as great as-

Sam turns over his face-down cards, the fours of diamonds and spades. He knew he had a four of a kind from the moment the flop cards were dealt; the only way to b*at a four of a kind is with a straight flush, which he knew PATRICK could not possibly have.

Sam: -as four fours.

PATRICK glances up at Sam, then down at the cards. Sam takes a deep breath and lets it out. PATRICK leans back.

PATRICK

Well played. You know, that whole...going-out-of-your-head bit-very method.

Sam smirks.

PATRICK

Well, there's more to you than meets the eye.

PATRICK raises his glass. Sam nods.

Sam: Cash these in for Dean, please.

PATRICK nods. He sets down the glass.

PATRICK

With pleasure.

APARTMENT BUILDING

INT. Bobby's VAN - NIGHT

Bobby is still on the phone.

Bobby: Dean, you hear me? Damn it, Dean!

Bobby spots something inside the building and turns to look. Someone comes out the door: it's Dean, thirty again. He holds out his arms, grinning, and does a little dance as he approaches the van. Bobby stares. Dean jumps up, clicking his heels in the air.

Bobby: Idjit.

EPILOGUE

BELOW BAR

INT. BAR - NIGHT

PATRICK and LIA sit at the poker table. PATRICK speaks in a whisper.

PATRICK

I can't do this, Lia.

LIA

Yes, you can.

PATRICK

Don't make me. I don't want to win.

LIA opens her locket. There are two photos inside.

LIA

I buried my daughter.

The right-hand photo is clearly decades old, of a very small child. The left-hand photo is much more recent, of an elderly woman.

LIA

And she looked like this.

LIA shakes her head.

LIA

It's not natural.

LIA closes the locket.

PATRICK

You knew. When you decided to come with me.

LIA looks down.

PATRICK

This is what you wanted. You're still young. You're so beautiful. You have me.

LIA

I miss my family. I'm sorry, Patrick.

PATRICK

I thought you loved me.

LIA

I do. Sweetheart, of course I do. I thought I was cut out for this, but I'm not.

PATRICK

I don't think I can do this

without you.

LIA

You got on okay for a long time before you met me.

PATRICK

Check.

LIA pushes her stacks of poker chips, spilling them over the chips already in the middle of the table.

LIA

All in.

A long pause. PATRICK does the Same with his chips.

PATRICK

All in.

The face-up cards are the nine of hearts, queen of diamonds, king of clubs, and six and seven of spades. PATRICK hesitates, then turns over his face-down cards, the king and queen of hearts, for two pair. Lia turns over her cards, the three of clubs and five of diamonds. LIA ages rapidly.

LIA

Thank you.

PATRICK puts his head in his hands.

MOTEL

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY

Bobby: No tricks-you actually b*at the guy?

Sam spreads his arms.

Bobby: How the hell?

Sam smirks.

Sam: Just lucky.

Sam heads for the door, passing Dean, who's on the way in with a burger.

Sam: Hey. I'll see y'all guys later.

Sam grabs his jacket.

Dean: Where you going?

Sam: Uh...mm, nowhere.

Bobby and Dean look at him.

Sam: A booster sh*t. Don't say it.

Sam leaves. Dean comes in and puts his burger down. Bobby groans.

Bobby: Well, I guess we can get the van loaded.

Dean holds up a finger and clears his throat.

Dean: I shouldn't have called you an idiot.

Bobby: Which time?

Dean: I'm sorry. I mean, I actually-I, I-I get it. Getting old ain't a bachelor party. And dealing with the crap you got to deal with-

Bobby: Don't you go on pity patrol.

Dean: I'm not. I'm not. I'm just...I'm saying, you know, if I was in your shoes...

Bobby: You'd never stop complaining.

Dean stares for a moment.

Dean: Fair enough. You're not useless, Bobby.

Bobby: Okay. Good talk.

Bobby goes to roll away. Dean steps in his path.

Dean: No, wait a minute. Listen to me.

Dean sits down and sighs.

Dean: You don't stop being a soldier 'cause you got wounded in battle. Okay? No matter what shape you're in, bottom line is, you're family. I don't know if you've noticed, but me and Sam, we don't have much left. I can't do this without you. I can't. So don't you dare think about checking out. I don't want to hear that again.

A long silence.

Bobby: Okay.

Dean: Okay. Good.

Bobby: Thanks. Now, we done feeling our feelings? 'Cause I'd like to get out of this room before we both start growing lady parts.

Dean: Yeah, we're done.

Dean gets up. He picks up his burger, looks at it, and puts it back down. He picks up his bag.

Dean: Let's go, Ironsides.

Dean slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door.

Bobby: Oh, that one's sticking, huh?

Dean looks back, smiling, and leaves. Bobby sighs.