03x15 - Time is on my Side

3.15 Time Is on My Side

Air Date: 8 May 2008



Doctor 1

Up for a drink?

Doctor 2

No, I can't. I got to be up at the crack of dawn. Duty calls.

Doctor 1

Boob job?

Doctor 2

I wish. Nah, some crabby old broad wants the works. I need a forklift to get it all back up.

Doctor 1

All that work to have what? 15 minutes off her faces?

Doctor 2

Staying young is a brutal business.

Doctor 2 goes to his car. He is grabbed from behind and thrown in the trunk of a car.

Doctor 2

(banging on the trunk) Hey! Help! Let me out of here! Help!

Doctor 2 stumbles into the hospital.

Nurse: Sir?

Doctor 2


Nurse: It's okay, sir. Let me see what happened. Don't you worry. There's nothing I haven't seen.

Doctor 2

No, no, no...

Nurse: Let me see...

The nurse pulls at what the Doctor is clutching and begins to scream.

END Teaser



Close up of a Demon strapped to a chair having holy water thrown on him. The Demon screams and thrashes from side to side.

Dean: You ready to talk?

Demon: I don't know. I don't know anything!

Dean: Oh, you hear that, Sam? He doesn't know anything.

Sam: (Smirking) Yeah, I heard.

Demon: I'm telling you the truth.

Dean: Oh, you are? My god, then I owe you an apology. Allow me to make it up to you. (Dean forces holy water into the Demon's mouth) I'm gonna ask you one last time...Who holds my contract?!

The Demon goes quiet, head hanging. When he looks up his eyes are black and he is smiling.

Demon: Your mother. Yeah, she, uh, showed it to me right before I bent her over.

Dean: (leaning close) I want a name. Or else...

Demon: Or what? You're gonna squirt your holy water in both ends? Please. Brother, that's like a fleabite compared to what's coming to me if I tell you jack. Do what you want. The only thing I'm scared of is the demon holding your ticket.

Dean stares at the Demon then looks at Sam, who nods and begins reciting an exorcism.

Dean: How does that feel? Does that feel good?

Demon: Go ahead. Send me back to hell... 'Cause when you get there, I'll be waiting for you...with a few pals who are dying for a nice little meet and greet with Dean Winchester.

Sam: Should I?

Dean: Send him someplace he can't hurt anyone else.

Sam continues the exorcism. The Demon begins screaming.



Sam: (Into his phone) You ran the prints twice? Are you sure? Okay. Yeah, just chalk it up to lab error. Don't I know it. Okay. Thanks. Yeah, I'll tell the lieutenant.

Dean enters.

Sam: Bury the body?

Dean: Yeah. Looks like these demons ride 'em hard just for kicks. (He opens and chugs on a beer then crashes tiredly onto a couch.) What was the phone call about?

Sam: Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?

Dean: "Stripper suffocates dude with thighs"?

Sam: The other thing.

Dean: Right, the guy that walks into the E.R. and kneels over dead. His stomach's ripped out?

Sam: His liver, actually. Anyways, I just found out something pretty damn interesting.

Dean: What?

Sam: The dead body covered in bloody fingerprints, not the victim's.

Dean: Okay, great. My man Dave Caruso will be stoked to hear it.

Sam: Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981.

Dean: Really. So, what are we talking? Uh, walking dead? Walking, killing dead?

Sam: Maybe.

Dean: Zombies do like the other other white meat. Huh. Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?

Sam: What do you mean?

Dean: Well, you've been on soul-saving detail for months now. And we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden, you're interested in some hot zombie action?

Sam: Hey, man, you're the one who's been all gung ho to hunt. I just thought I'd be doing you a favor.

Dean: Hey, no, no, no, no, no. I didn't say I didn't want to do it, okay. I mean obviously I want to hunt some zombies.

Sam: Okay, fine, whatever.



Dean and Sam stand listening.


Yeah, the rest of the body was intact. The liver was the only organ missing.

Dean: Now, where the liver was ripped out, did you happen to notice any...ah...teeth marks?


(Giving them an 'are you insane' look) Can I see your badges?

Sam: Of course, sure.


Fine. So you're cops and morons.

Dean: Excuse me? No, no. We're very smart.


The liver was not ripped out. It was removed. Surgically. By someone who knew their way around a scalpel. Didn't you read my report?

Dean: Of course we did. Oh, it was riveting. It was a real page-turner, just delightful.


You done?

Dean: I think so.


Please go away.

Dean: Okay.

Sam: Sure.



Sam is smiling.

Dean: What?

Sam: Nothing. So, that kind of punches a hole in our zombie theory, huh, that scalpel thing?

Dean: Yeah, zombie with skills, "Dr. Quinn, medicine zombie".

Sam: Maybe we're on the wrong track, Dean, looking for hacked-up corpses.

Dean: What should we be looking for?

Sam: Survivors. This isn't zombie lunch. This is organ theft.




I told the cops all of this yesterday. I don't want to talk about it anymore.

Sam: It's just a couple of questions, sir.


Hey, man. I just got my kidney stolen. I'm tired.

Dean: We'll be out of here quick. Don't you want to get the guy?


Will it get me back my kidney?

Sam: So what's the last thing you remember?


Feeding my meter. I got jumped from behind...and then I wake up strapped to a table. And then the worst pain you could possibly imagine, only worse. And then I black out again. Thank God. And then I wake up screaming in some no-tell motel in a bathtub full of ice.

Dean: Do you remember anything about the surgery – you know, what the guy looked like, any details about the room?


Let me think about that. Yeah...one thing is coming back to me. You know what I remember? Getting my kidney cut out of my body!



Sam and Dean sit at the table. Sam is using the laptop and Dean is happily eating a burger.

Sam: So, I got a theory.

Dean: Yeah?

Sam: Yeah, I talked to Mr. Giggle's Doctor. Turns out his incisions were sewn up with silk.

Dean: That's weird.

Sam: Yeah, nowadays it is, but silk used to be the suture of choice back in the early 19th century. It was really problematic. Patients would get massive infections. The death rate was insane.

Dean: Good times.

Sam: Right, so Doctors, they had to do whatever they could to keep infections from spreading. One way was maggots.

Dean: Dude, I'm eating.

Sam: It actually kind of worked because maggots, they eat bad tissue, and they leave good tissue. And get this. When they found our guy, his body cavity was stuffed full of maggots.

Dean: Dude, I'm eating! Alright, let me get this straight. So, people are getting ganked, right?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: A little "antiques roadshow" surgery, some organ theft. But why is this all sounding familiar?

Sam: Because you heard it before. When you were a kid... from Dad. Doc Benton...real-life Doctor, lived in New Hampshire, brilliant and obsessed with alchemy, especially how to live forever. So, in 1816, Doc abandons his practice and...

Dean: Right, yeah, nobody hears from him for like 20 years, and all of sudden, people start showing up dead.

Sam: Dead or – or missing an organ or the hand or some other kind of part.

Dean: Cause whatever he was doing was actually working. He just kept on ticking. Parts would wear out, he'd replace them. But I thought Dad hunted him down and took his heart out.

Sam: Yeah, I guess the Doc must have plugged in a new one.

Dean: All right, where's he doing the deed?

Sam: According to this, Benton's picky about where he sets up his lab. He likes dense forest with access to a river or stream or some kind of freshwater.

Dean: (Taking another huge bite of his burger) Why?

Sam: Because that's where he likes to dump the bile and intestines and fecal matter. (Dean looks disgusted and lowers his burger, gagging slightly) Lost your appetite yet?

Dean considers this, looking at the burger and then at Sam, then back at the burger.

Dean: (to his burger) Oh baby, I can't stay mad at you.

Dean takes a huge bite, staring at Sam as he chews.



A jogger is abducted. He wakes up in Doc Benton's cabin, strapped to an operating table. Doc Benton carves open his chest and removes his heart as the man watches, horrified.


No, please. No. No, no.





Sam and Dean lean over a map on the bed.

Sam: (Pointing at map where some areas are circled in red) So these are all the cabins. Most of them have been abandoned for years.

Dean: So what the hell are we waiting for?

Dean's phone rings. He answers.

Dean: Bobby.

Bobby: Hey. Think I finally got a bead on Bela.

Dean: I'm listening.

Bobby: Rufus Turner.

Dean: Who's that? Like a Cleveland steamer?

Bobby: He's a hunter, or he used to be.

Dean: And now?

Bobby: Hermit mostly. Does a little selling on the side. Anyway. I put the word out on Bela months ago. He just called. Said a woman got in touch, wanted to buy some things.

Dean: And he thinks it's Bela?

Bobby: British accent, went by the name Mina Chandler.

Dean: She's used that before. Well, it's kinda of a sloppy move, isn't it? Getting in contact with one of your old friends.

Bobby: Friend? Haven't laid eyes on him in fifteen years. He's not the Christmas card type. I doubt she knows I know him. Canaan, Vermont.

Dean: Thanks, Bobby. We're on our way.

Bobby: One other thing. Take a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.

Dean: (To Bobby) Okay. (To Sam) Come on. We're going after Bela.

Sam: What? Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a second.

Dean: Come on. Get your stuff. The clock's ticking.

Sam: Look, I think we should stay here and finish the case.

Dean: You insane?

Sam: Dean, there's no way she still has the Colt! That was months ago! She probably sold it the second she got it.

Dean: Well, then I'll kill her. Win-win.

Sam: Dean...

Dean: Sam. We're going!

Sam: No!

Dean: Why the hell not?

Sam: Dean, this, this here. Now. This is what's gonna save you.

Dean: What? Chasing some Frankenstein?

Sam: Chasing immortality. (Dean stares at him, startled) Look, Benton can't die. We find out how he did it, we can do it to you.

Dean: What are you talking about?

Sam: You have to die before you go to hell, right? So, if you can never die, then...

Dean: Wait, wait, wait. Wait a second. Did you know that this was Doc Benton from the jump?

Sam: No. (Dean stares at Sam, tilting his head in a question) Look, I was hoping.

Dean: So the whole zombie thing, it was lying to me?

Sam: I didn't wanna say anything until I was sure, Dean. All I'm trying to do is find an answer here.

Dean: No. What you're trying to do is chase Slicy McHackey here. And to kill him? No. You wanna buy him a freaking beer. You wanna study him.

Sam: I was just trying to help.

Dean: You're not helping! You forget that if I welch on this deal, you die. Guess what, living forever is welching.

Sam: Fine! Then, whatever the magic pill is, I'll take it too!

Dean: Oh, what is this? Sid and Nancy? No. It's just like Bobby's been saying. We kill the demon who owns the contract and this whole damn thing wipes clean. That's our best shot.

Sam: Even if you had the Colt, Dean, who are you gonna shoot? We have no idea who holds the ticket.

Dean: Well, I'll shoot the hellhounds then before they slash me up. Now, you coming or not?

Sam: (Quietly) I'm staying here.

Dean: No, you're not. 'Cause I'm not gonna let you wander out in the woods alone to track some organ stealing freak.

Sam: You're not gonna let me?

Dean: No, I'm not gonna let you.

Sam: How are you gonna stop me? (Dean again looks startled) Look, man, we're trying to do the Same thing here.

Dean: I know. But I'm going. So if you wanna stay...stay.

Dean watches Sam but Sam continues to stare at the wall. Dean shrugs, puts his bag on his shoulder and heads over to open the door. Sam doesn't move.

Dean: (Hesitating then turning back) Sammy, be careful.

Sam finally turns to face Dean.

Sam: (Quietly) You too.

They stare are each other for a long moment, then Dean reaches out and closes the door behind him. Sam lets out a huge sigh.




Dean climbs the tall stairs onto the porch. A handwritten sign says "No solicitors, that means you! No asking for donations. No selling ANYTHING!"

Dean rings the buzzer, then bangs on the security door. He hears a noise and looks up to see a security camera moving to train on him.

Rufus: (via intercom) What?

We see a view of Dean through the security camera.

Dean: Hi, uh, Rufus?

Rufus: Yeah, even if I am, the question is still the Same. What?

Dean: Uh, I'm Dean Winchester. I'm a friend of Bobby Singer's.

Rufus: So?

Dean: You called him this morning.

Rufus: So?

Dean: Uh... (Dean tries to grin at the security camera)...you told Bobby about a British chick who made contact with you.

Rufus: And so?

Dean: You know where she is?

Rufus: Yeah.

Dean: Great. Could you tell me where I could find her?

Rufus: No.

Dean: (To himself) Course not. (Out loud) Look, Rufus, man...

Rufus: (Opening the door) Look, let me point something out to you. You are knocking at my door, so don't "Look, man" me. I'm not your man.

Dean: I'm sorry, sir.

Rufus: All right, let me tell you a little story. See, once upon a time, Bobby called me, asked me to call him if I got a whiff of this Bela Talbot. I got a whiff. I called. The end.

Dean: Okay, yeah, if you could just tell me where she is, I mean, that would be great.

Rufus: Dean Winchester, right?

Dean: Yeah.

Rufus: Dean, do I look like I'm here to help you?

Dean: I'm gonna say no?

Rufus: Then get the hell of my property.

Dean: All right, yeah, fair enough. I got one more question for you, though. See, I got this, uh, this bottle of scotch, and... uh, is this considered good?

Rufus eyes the bottle, eyes Dean, and starts smiling.



Dean and Rufus sit at the table with glasses in front of them. The bottle is three quarters empty.

Dean: Bottoms up.

They click glasses and drink.

Rufus: You know, I don't even bother drinking unless it's this stuff. Nectar of the Gods, I'm telling you.

Dean: Yeah, it's a nice change, you know. Most of my whiskey comes from a plastic jug. (They both laugh) So, Bela was here because...

Rufus: She wanted to buy a couple of things, which is gonna take me some time to round up.

Dean: Where is she now?

Rufus watches Dean closely.

Rufus: Can I ask you something?

Dean: Sure.

Rufus: You got three weeks left. Why are you wasting your time chasing after that skinny, stuck-up English girl?

Dean: (Suspicious) How do you know about that?

Rufus: (leaning forward) Because I know things. I know a lot of things about a lot of people.

Dean: Is that so?

Rufus: I know ain't no peashooter gonna save you.

Dean: What makes you so sure?

Rufus: Cause that's the job, kid. Even if you manage to scrape out of this one, there's just gonna be something else down the road. Folks like us...there ain't no happy ending. We all got it coming.

Dean: Well, ain't you a bucket of sunshine?

Rufus: I'm what you've got to look forward to if you survive. (Smirking and raising his glass again) But you won't.



Sam pulls over his rental car and turns off the engine. He checks his map again, gets out of the car and starts walking into the forest.


INT. Rufus's CABIN.

Dean: So, Bela...

Rufus: (By now quite drunk) Hotel Canaan. Room 39. But watch your back.

Dean: I think I can handle Bela.

Rufus: Oh, don't be so sure about that. There are things that you don't know about her.

Dean: Oh, and you do? Right. Because you know things.

Rufus: (Superior) Yep.

Dean: And let me guess...you lift her fingerprint?

Rufus: Yep.

Dean: And that got you jack.

Rufus: Yep. She burnt them off. Probably years ago.

Dean: Yeah, so you're right where we are.

Rufus: Nope. (Dean looks at him funny) You do her ear?

Dean: Sorry?

Rufus: You do her ear?

Dean: Hey, man, I'll try anything once, but I don't know. That sounds uncomfortable.

Rufus: Ears are as unique to humans as fingerprints.

Dean: No kidding.

Rufus: Of course, that don't fly in the courts over here, but in England, they're all over it. A friend of a friend...of a friend faxed me 10 pages of confidential files within a day. All I had to send him was one clean shot off the security camera.

Dean: Right. One clean shot of her ear.

Rufus: (Handing Dean a folder) The so-called Bela Talbot.



Sam enters with a torch in and looks around. He finds a journal and pockets it. He moves to the cellar. A man's dead body is lying on the operating table. He keeps looking around, hears a slight noise and through ragged curtains sees another body. He moves closer. A woman is strapped down an another the operating table, her arm stretched out beside her and covered in maggots. She is missing skin. Sam leans in to place his fingers on the pulse point of her neck. The woman gasps and her eyes spring open. Sam startles violently.

Sam: Shh! Shh! Shh! It's okay. I'm here to help you. I'm here to help you. I'm gonna help you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

Sam grabs a cloth and wraps it around her arm, shhing her the whole time.

Sam: I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

They hear a door open upstairs. The woman starts crying, unable to help herself. Sam covers her mouth but DOC BENTON hears and starts down the stairs with a lamp to investigate. The woman and Sam are gone. DOC BENTON looks up to see a window open.




Sam carries the victim to his rental car.

Sam: (placing her in the passenger seat) Okay, watch your head, watch your head. Sorry.

Sam runs around and gets into the driver's seat. BENTON comes out of nowhere, grabs Sam's head and slams it against the wheel. Sam reverses wildly, his passenger screaming. He changes gear and floors it, driving straight over BENTON. As the car speeds away BENTON rises and looks after them, his head at a crazy angle.


INT. Bela's Hotel ROOM

Bela enters, turning to close the door behind her. Dean pushes her back against the door. He lays his arm across her throat and points his gun at her face.

Dean: Where's the Colt?

Bela: (Calmly) Dean.

Dean: No extra words.

Bela: It's long gone, across the world by now.

Dean: You're lying.

He grabs her bag from her hand to look in it.

Bela: I'll call the buyer. Speak Farsi?

Dean grabs her around the waist, pulling her against him.

Bela: What the hell are you...

Dean quickly frisks her, find her gun and holds it up to her.

Dean: Don't flatter yourself.

Dean uses the point of his gun to snap on the room's lights, then points it at her again.

Dean: Don't move.

Dean begins searching the room, leaving Bela standing against the door.

Bela: I told you I don't have it.

Dean: Oh, yeah, I'm definitely gonna take your word for it.

Dean turns his back and continues rifling through her draws. Bela slides along the wall toward the door. A bullet goes through the door, inches from her head. She freezes.

Dean: Don't move.

Dean continues searching.

Bela: It's gone. Get on a plane if you must. Track down the buyer. You might catch up to him eventually.

Dean finishes searching and returns to Bela, taking a stance and pointing his gun at her head.

Bela: Are you going to kill me?

Dean: Oh, yeah.

Bela: You're not the cold-blooded type.

Dean: You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my parents.

Bela: (Shocked but regrouping) I don't know what you're talking...

Dean: Yes, you do. You were, what, 14? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela...Oh, I'm sorry, Abby...inheriting millions.

Bela: How did you even...

Dean: Doesn't matter.


Young Abby is sitting on her bed, crying. A man slowly walks into the room and turns to close the door. She looks terrified.

Bela: They were lovely people. And I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to you.

Dean pushes her roughly against the door with his arm across her throat again. A strand of woven herbs is dislodged from the ledge above the door but no one notices.

Dean: (Staring for a long tense moment.) You make me sick.

Bela: Likewise.

Dean takes a step back and again points his gun at her head, smirking. She stares back, then closes her eyes. Dean is distracted and looks up, spying the herbs hanging over the ledge. He looks back at her, thinking. Bela opens her eyes as Dean drops the gun.

Dean: You're not worth it.

Dean drags her aside and leaves. Bela lifts her hand which now has a scrap of paper in it. She looks at it, a motel receipt, [i]The Erie[i]. She grabs her phone.

Bela: It worked. He found me. No, Sam wasn't with him. But I know where they are.



(Sam's phone rings, he picks up)

Sam: Dean.

Dean: (in the Impala) Yeah.

Sam: Did you get the Colt?

Dean: What do you think?

Sam: So, does that mean Bela is, uh...

Dean: No, no, she deserves to die a dozen times over, but I couldn't do it.

Sam: Dean...

Dean: I'm really screwed, Sammy.

Sam: No, you're just...

Dean: But you were right. Bela was a goose chase. The Colt's gone, and this time I'm really screwed, Sam.

Sam: Maybe not. Look, Dean, I found Benton's cabin.

Dean: You okay? Was he there?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: Did you kill him?

Sam: No.

Dean: What do you mean, "no"?

Sam: Dean, please just listen for a second. I found his lab book, and it has the formula.

Dean: What, the live-forever formula?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: Great, let me guess. I got to drink blood out of a baby's skull?

Sam: No, that's the thing. It's not black magic. There's no blood sacrifice or anything. It's just science, Dean. Very, very extremely weird science, but...

Dean: Wait, wait, wait. What are...What are you saying? You think...

Sam: Dean, I think it might be doable. I mean, I know we've hit a lot of walls, but I...I think this formula, I think it might be it. This could save you.

Dean: Okay, so, this formula...

Sam: Well, I mean, look, look, we're not in the clear yet. There are still things that I don't get...

An arm comes from behind Sam and covers his mouth with a rag. Sam drops the phone. It is DOC BENTON.

Dean: Sam? Sammy!




Sam is strapped to an operating table. His eyes are taped open.


You can relax. It's all gonna be okay. Ain't nothing gonna happen here that you got to worry about, Sammy. Your chances of coming out of this procedure alive? Very, very high.

Sam: How do you know my name?


Oh...I know. You think I'm some kind of monster, don't you? Well, I got to tell you, I have never done one thing that I did not have to do. This whole eternal-life thing is very high-maintenance. If something goes bad, like my eyes here...you got to replace them. And sometimes things get damaged, like when your father cut out my heart. Now, that...That was very inconvenient. So, I'm sure that you can understand all the joy I felt when I read all about myself here in his journal. Kind of makes this whole thing just feel like some kind of family reunion, don't it? Well, I guess it's about time that we get this thing started.

DOC BENTON brings his scoop very close to Sam's eye. Three shots ring out, shooting DOC BENTON from behind. He turns and sees Dean.


Shoot all you want.

DOC BENTON approaches and Dean lets loose two more bullets. DOC BENTON throws Dean into the wall and he falls to the ground. DOC BENTON approaches again, leaning down. Dean plunges a knife into DOC BENTON's chest.


(Laughing) A knife? What part of immortality do you not understand? Pity about the heart, though. It was a brand-new one.

Dean: Good. It should be pumping nice and strong...(Dean holds up a bottle of chloroform) Sending this stuff throughout your whole body. See, I picked up your little bottle upstairs and dipped the knife in it.

DOC BENTON collapses.


DOC BENTON awakes strapped to the operating table. Dean and Sam stand over him.

Dean: Oh, hiya, Doc. Wakey, wakey, eggs and bac-y.



Dean: Please what? You've been killing poor bastards for over 150 years and now you got a request? Shut up.


No, you don't understand. I can help you. I know what you need.

Dean: We might have to cut him up into little bits. You know, this immortality thing is a bitch.


I can read the formula for you. You know...immortality...Forever young, never die.

Sam: Dean.

Dean: Sam.

Sam walks out of the room, indicating Dean should follow.

Dean: What?

Sam: I mean, we're talking hell in three weeks. Or needing a new pancreas in like half a century.

Dean: Yeah, well, you can't exactly get those at a Kwik-E-Mart.

Sam: It's not perfect, but it buys us more time to think of something better. We just need time, Dean. I mean, please, just...just think about it.

Dean: No.

Sam: Dean, don't you want to live?

Dean: What he is isn't living. Look, this is simple.

Sam: Simple?

Dean: To me it is, okay. Black or white; human, not human. (Dean walks back to stand in front of DOC BENTON) See, what the Doc is is a freakin' monster. I can't do it. I would rather go to hell.


(Calling out) You don't understand. I can help you!

Dean covers a rag with more chloroform and places it over DOC BENTON's mouth.

Dean: Now, I'm gonna take care of him. You can either help me or not. It's up to you.


DOC BENTON wakes and lights a match. He is in a box. He can't get the lid open.

Camera switches to viewing the box from the outside. It is a refrigerator laid in a hole in the ground. The DOC's book lies on top.


No! No! Don't! Stop it! I can help you! No!

Dean: Enjoy forever in there, Doc.

Dean and Sam begin shovelling in the hole.


Let me out! I can save you! No. Don't.




Bela slowly walks down the hallway and picks the lock on a door. She removes a gun from her jacket and quietly enters. She raises the gun and puts two bullets into the bodies lying under the covers on each bed, then moves closer, turning on a bedside lamp. A clock beside the lamp shows it is 11.56 pm.

Bela pulls back the covers to find a s*x doll slowly deflating. She checks the other bed, another s*x doll. The phone rings and she quickly picks it up.

Dean: Hiya, Bela. Here's a fun fact you may not know. I felt your hand in my pocket, when you swiped that motel receipt.

Bela: You don't understand.

Dean: (in the car with Sam) Oh, I'm pretty sure I understand perfectly. See, I noticed something interesting in your hotel room. Something tucked above the door. An herb. Devil's shoestring? There's only one use for that. Holding hellhounds at bay. So you know what I did, I went back and I took another look at your folks' obit. Turns out they died ten years ago today. You didn't kill them. A demon did your dirty work. You made a deal, didn't you, Bela. And it's come due.


Bela sits on a swing. A little girl sits beside her, very self-possessed.

Girl: I can take care of them for you. And it won't even cost you anything...for ten whole years.

The little girl's eyes turn red, then go back to normal.


Dean: Is that why you stole the Colt, huh? Try to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul?

Bela: Yes.

Dean: But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing.

Bela: They changed the deal. They wanted me to kill Sam.

Dean: Really! Wow, demons untrustworthy. Shocker. That's, uh, kind of a tight deadline too – what time is it? Well, look at that, almost midnight.

Bela: (Crying) Dean, listen, I need help.

Dean: Sweetheart, we are weeks past help.

Bela: I know I don't deserve it.

Dean: You know what, you're right, you don't. But you know what the bitch of the bunch is? If you would have just come to us sooner and asked for help we probably could have taken the Colt and saved you.

Bela: I know, and saved yourself. I know about your deal, Dean.

Dean: And who told you that?

Bela: The Demon that holds it. She holds mine too. She said she holds every deal.

Dean: She?

Bela: Her name's Lilith.

Dean: Lilith? Why should I believe you?

Bela: You shouldn't but it's the truth.

Dean: This can't help you, Bela, not now. Why you telling me this?

Bela: Because just maybe you can kill the bitch.

Dean: I'll see you in hell.

Dean hangs up.

Bela sits on the bed listening to the dial tone. She hangs up and takes a deep breath just as the clock clicks over to midnight. A deep howling starts in the distance, then closer vicious growls begin.