A blond woman is running in her house, clearly terrified. She runs into her room, slamming the door behind her and locking it. Something pounds on the door, but it can’t get in. The noise stops, and she pushes a dresser in front of the door, then goes to sit on the bed, panting. Something is watching her feet from under the bed. “Oh my God,” she pants, putting her hands over her face. Suddenly, something grabs her ankles and starts to pull her under the bed. Screaming, she reaches for her nightstand, looking for something to hold onto. But she loses her grip and is pulled under, knocking over the nightstand. A picture falls off. It’s a picture of John Winchester.
Sam is leaning on the Impala, it’s parked by a lake. He’s brushing his teeth, and Dean is sleeping in the car. Dean wakes up, opens the car door, and falls out onto the ground. “Hey!” Sam says. “How’d you sleep?” Dean slowly stands up. “How’d you think?” He closes the door. “I’m starving, let’s get breakfast.” Sam stops brushing his teeth. “Where? We’re like two hours from anything.” “But I’m hungry now,” Dean replies. “There’s probably still a sandwich in the back seat,” Sam offers, and Dean turns to go look, rubbing his face. He pulls out a brown bag, opens it, and sniffs. He coughs and pulls away, making a face. “It’s tuna.” Suddenly a phone rings, and they both turn. Dean checks his pockets, then reaches into the glove compartment, bumping his head on the roof on the way out. “Is that Dad’s phone?” Sam asks. Dean nods. “Hello?” “Uh, is this John?” a voice on the other end asks. “He can’t come to the phone, can I help you?” Dean says. “Uh, no no no, I need to talk to John, this is Adam Milligan. He knows me,” the voice goes on. “Well sorry to be the one to break this to you, pal, but John died. More than two years ago,” Dean replies. Sam turns around to look at him. “Who is this?” Dean asks. “I – I’m his son,” the young man says.
Windom, Minnesota
The boys park the car and get out, Dean heads to the trunk, obviously agitated. Sam follows more slowly. “Dean, look – the best I can tell, Adam Milligan is real. Born on June 29th, 1992, to Kate Milligan. No father listed on the birth certificate. He’s an Eagle Scout, graduated from high school with honours, and currently goes to the University of Wisconsin, Biology major Pre-med.” Dean grabs a bunch of weapons and closes the trunk. “Dean, you listening?” Sam asks. “This is a trap,” Dean replies firmly.
Café
The boys head into a café, and Dean turns and heads over to a table for four. He pulls one of the chairs over so there’s three on one side. Sam sits. “Dean, I’m telling you. The kid checks out.” “Great, so he’s an actual person on the planet Earth,” Dean replies, sitting down next to him. “Sucks he’s got a demon in him.” “Hi, welcome to Cousin Oliver’s,” a waitress says, putting down glasses of water. “Can I…?” “We’re actually waiting on somebody,” Dean interrupts. She looks irritated and throws down two menus. “Thank you,” Sam says, giving Dean a look, which he ignores. Dean checks that the waitress is gone, then grabs one of the glasses of water and empties it into the plant behind him. “What’re you-?” Sam begins, then watches as Dean pulls out his metal flask and begins filling the glass with holy water. “Holy water?” he says incredulously. “Yup,” Dean replies. “Once he drinks that Jesus Juice, this evil bitch is gonna be in a world of hurt.” “And what if he’s not possessed?” Sam asks. “Then he is a shapeshifter,” Dean replies, unwrapping some cutlery. “Hence the silver,” Sam notices. Dean puts it down in place of the original cutlery. “Look, either way this thing is gonna bleed,” Dean says. “I mean, using Dad as bait? That’s the last mistake of it’s short pitiful life.” Sam looks at him. Dean glances over. “What? What?” “Dean,” Sam begins, “Listen. There’s an entry in Dad’s journal from January, 1990. Saying he’s headed to Minnesota to check out a case. That’s roughly, oh, about nine months before the kid was born.” “Coincidence,” Dean says firmly. “Coincidence? Next two pages in the journal… torn out,” Sam replies, showing him the jagged edges. Dean looks in silence for a second. “You’re not actually buying this, are you?” “Look man, I don’t wanna believe it either, I’m just saying, it’s possible,” Sam replies. “I mean Dad would be gone for weeks at a time, and he wasn’t exactly a monk. I mean, hunter rolls into town, kills a monster, saves the girl… sometimes the girl’s grateful.” Dean makes a face. “Well now I’m thinking about dad sex. Stop talking.” “Maybe he slipped one past the goalie,” Sam goes on. “Dude!” Dean says loudly.
Just then, a young man walks into the café. “Adam?” Sam says. The kid slowly walks over. “You Sam?” “Yeah. This is Dean,” Sam replies, pointing. “Hey,” Adam says, sitting down. “So, um… how did you know my dad?” “Uh, we worked together,” Sam replies. Adam nods. “How did he die?” “On the job,” Sam says. “He was a mechanic, right?” Adam asks, looking vaguely confused. “A car fell on him,” Dean snaps. “Hey Adam, how you doing?” the waitress asks, walking up with another glass of water. “I’ll take that,” Dean says, grabbing it quickly. “I’m very thirsty.” “The usual, Adam?” the waitress asks. “Yeah, thanks Denise,” Adam replies. He takes the glass of holy water and drinks, as Dean watches intently. Nothing happens.
“So, uh, when’s the last time you saw John?” Sam asks. “I don’t even know. Couple of years,” Adam answers as Dean slowly takes his gun out of his jacket, keeping it under the table. “Why’d you decide to call him now?” Sam asks. “I didn’t know who else to call? He’s the only family I got,” Adam replies. “My Mom’s missing.” “Really, I’m sorry – for how long?” Sam asks. “That’s tragic – really. But if you’re John’s kid, how come we’ve never heard of you?” Dean interrupts. “Cause John and me didn’t really know each other,” Adam says. “Not until a few years ago, anyway.” “What do you mean?” Sam asks. “My mom never talked about him. I knew some stuff…” “What kind of stuff?” Dean cuts in. “My mom’s a nurse. And Dad came into the ER, pretty torn up – hunting accident, or something – I knew his name. John Winchester. That’s about it. We’re not exactly a nuclear family,” Adam explains. “Yeah well who is these days,” Sam says. “So when – when did you finally meet him?” Dean asks. “When I was twelve. My mom had one of his old numbers, and after I begged her – God, twenty four seven – she finally called him. God, when John heard he had a son, he raised the town. I mean, he dropped everything. He drove all night…” The waitress brings his food. “Well that’s heartwarming,” Dean says coldly. “You mind?” Adam asks, gesturing to his food. “No please, dig in,” Dean replies. He cocks the gun as Adam reaches for his fork. “He would swing by, once a year or so…” Adam goes on, picking up the fork. Dean uncocks the gun, looking disappointed. “Called when he could. But still, he taught me poker, pool… even bought me my first beer when I was fifteen,” Adam finishes, smiling. Dean is openly glaring now. “And, uh he showed me how to drive. Dad, he had this beautiful sixty-seven Impala…”
“Oh, this is crap! You know what, you’re lying!” Dean cuts in suddenly. “No I’m not,” Adam says. “Yeah you are,” Dean insists, glaring angrily. “I’m sorry, but the who the hell are you to call me a liar?” Adam asks. “We’re John Winchester’s sons, that’s who. WE are his sons!” Dean points at Sam and himself. Adam stares. “I’ve got brothers?” “No, you don’t have brothers! Look man, I don’t know if you’re a hunter or what kinda game you’re playing here…” Dean goes on. “I have never been hunting in my life!” Adam says. “Whatever. I’m out of here. Come on, Sam,” Dean says, standing up and starting to leave. “I can prove it!” Adam calls.
Dean and Sam stare at a picture of John and Adam. “He took you to a baseball game?” Dean asks, looking up at Adam, who’s standing watching. “Yeah, when I turned fourteen,” Adam smiles. “Dad was around for a few of my birthdays.” “September 29th, 2004,” Sam reads in the journal. “One word. Minnesota.” Dean is still staring at the picture. “He took you to a friggin baseball game?” he says again. “Yeah. Why, what’d Dad do with you on your birthday?” Adam asks. Dean gives him a fake smile and says nothing. Adam looks away, and Dean throws a shocked glance at Sam, but Sam is still looking at Adam. “Adam, you said you called Dad cause your mom was missing?” Sam clarifies. “How long has she been gone?” “Three days,” Adam replies. “Who was the last person to see her?” Dean asks, clearly still struggling with the situation. Adam says it was their neighbour, who saw her come home Tuesday night but never show up at work Wednesday. “Did you call the police?” Sam asks. “Mom’s supervisor at the hospital did,” Adam says. “And then I drove down here as fast as I could. I shoulda been here.” “Uh, what did the cops say?” Dean asks. “They searched the house, they didn’t find anything,” Adam says. “She wouldn’t leave without telling anybody. It was like she just dropped off the face of the earth, you know?”
Dean is looking behind the dresser. He notices more pictures of John and Adam and Kate on top of it, and can’t help but stare. He hears a creak behind him, and turns to see Adam in the doorway. Dean clears his throat. “The nightstand was knocked over… was there anything else?” “Well not really. The sheriff said there’s no sign of a break-in,” Adam replies. “Why, you think the cops missed something?” “Maybe – they don’t have my eyes,” Dean says. “You’re a mechanic,” Adam says. Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s right.” Adam sighs. “Dean – what else can you tell me about Dad?” Dean shrugs. “You knew him.” “Not as well as you,” Adam insists. “Trust me, kid. You don’t wanna know,” Dean replies. Sam walks in at that moment, holding up some paper, and Dean goes to join him.
“You talk to the cops?” Dean asks. “Yeah,” Sam replies. “Like Adam said, no leads on his mom.” “Hmm. Shocker there,” Dean says. “But, I did find this. In 1990 there was seventeen grave robberies in Windom,” Sam shows him the paper. “Think that’s why Dad came through here?” Dean asks. “I’d say so. Check it out,” Sam says, pointing at the picture accompanying the article. John is just visible in the background, behind some other people. “Alright, so he was hunting something. What?” Dean wonders. “No idea. Those were the pages he tore out of the journal. But last month the corpse statute started up again. Three bodies from the local cemetery,” Sam replies. “So whatever he was after… he didn’t kill it, and it’s back,” Dean says. “And what – it’s stepped up it’s game to fresh meat?” Sam asks. “I mean, Kate’s missing and… so’s a local bartender.” He shows Dean a black and white picture of a man. “A guy named Joe Barton.”
Dean walks over to where Adam is waiting on his mom’s bed and shows him the picture. “Hey, does your mom know Joe Barton?” “I don’t think so. Why?” Adam asks. Dean doesn’t reply, but suddenly he notices something by the bottom of the bed. Scratches on the floor. “Gimme hand with the mattress,” he says, and Adam helps him lift it. Under the bed is a grate leading into the air ducts. Dean looks at Sam, and together they put up their fists. Dean throws scissors, Sam throws rock. “Every time!” Dean growls, frustrated.
Dean shines his flashlight down into the ducts first, then slowly lowers himself down head first. “Aww – why didn’t I throw paper?” he sighs, and continues down the narrow tunnel. He can see some blood on the side of the ducts, and quickly throws himself around the corner. In one direction there is only another grate, leading out into a room. He turns to the left, gun at the ready, and is greeted by the sight of blood splashed all over the ducts and several pieces of flesh and hair.
Motel
Dean is cleaning a shotgun and Sam is sitting nearby when there’s a knock at the door. Sam gets up to answer it, it’s Adam. “Who the hell are you?” he says, pushing his way inside. “Adam, take it easy,” Sam begins as Dean quickly throws the cloth over the shotgun. “No, don’t tell me to take it easy, okay? My house is a crime scene. My mom’s probably dead, and you two - well you tell me to call the cops, but you gotta bail before they show? So who are you really?” The boys are silent. “Cops didn’t know where to look for my mom, Dean, but you did,” Adam goes on. “Now I heard you talking earlier. Something about grave robberies.” He notices the edge of the shotgun under the cloth, and looks at Sam. “You’re not mechanics. I just wanna know what’s going on.” Dean looks back at Sam. “Please,” Adam says. “We’re hunters,” Sam says. “Sammy!” Dean cuts in loudly. “He deserves to know, Dean,” Sam says firmly. “What do you mean, hunters?” Adam asks. Dean shakes his head.
“Okay, so basically you’re saying that every movie monster, every nightmare I’ve ever had… that’s all real?” Adam asks. “Godzilla’s just a movie,” Dean replies. Sam is sitting near Adam on the bed, Dean is sitting a ways away by the window. “We hunt them. So did Dad,” Sam says. “Okay,” Adam says. “Okay?” Dean says loudly. “That’s it?” “What am I supposed to say?” Adam asks. “That we’re liars, that we’re crazy – nobody just says okay,” Dean snaps. “Well you’re my brothers. You’re telling me the truth, right?” Adam replies. “Yeah,” Sam says. “Then I believe you,” Adam says. “So what took my mom?” “We don’t know yet. Something’s in town stealing bodies,” Sam explains. “Living and dead. But we don’t know what.” “There’s a long list of freaks that fit the bill,” Dean says. “You think maybe she might still be alive?” Adam asks. The boys look away. “Oh. How can I help?” “You can’t,” Dean says. “This thing killed my mom. If you’re hunting it, I want in,” Adam replies. “No,” Dean says. “Dean, look, maybe…” Sam begins. “Maybe what?” Dean snaps angrily. “He lost his mother. Maybe we can understand what that feels like,” Sam says. Dean stands up. “Why do you think Dad never told us about this kid, Sam, huh? Why do you think he ripped out the pages?” “Because…” Sam begins. “Because he was protecting him!” Dean says loudly. “Dad’s dead, Dean,” Sam says. “It doesn’t matter!” Dean yells. “He didn’t want Adam to have our lives, okay? And we’re gonna respect his wishes!” “Do I get a say in this?” Adam begins. “No!” Dean yells. “No,” Sam says. “Baby sit the kid,” Dean says, heading for the door. “Where’re you going?” Sam asks. “I’m going out!” Dean yells, slamming the door behind him.
Sam sighs. “Is he always like that?” Adam asks. Sam laughs. “Welcome to the family.” He pulls out a gun. “Here. I’m gonna teach you a few things.” “Uh… Dean said…” Adam begins. “I know what Dean said,” Sam says, holding the gun out to Adam. “And I know what it’s like to want revenge.”
Graveyard
“This tomb was built in 1926,” a man in a suit is telling Dean as they enter the mausoleum. “Four generations of the Milsat family were interred here.” “They don’t build ‘em like this anymore,” Dean comments, looking at the broken open coffins. “Tell me, Agent Nugent - have you thought about where you might like to spend eternity?” the man asks. “All the damn time,” Dean replies, heading into the tomb. “So three bodies went missing. Any idea who did it?” “Hooligans – sick, deranged hooligans,” the man says. Dean looks around and notices something wet on the side of one of the coffins. He touches it, it’s sticky. “This isn’t blood, what is this?” he asks. “No, it’s embalming fluid,” the man explains. “Whoever commited this crime didn’t just take the corpses. They opened them up.”
Bar
Dean sits down at a bar, and the bartender goes over and fills up a glass. “First beer’s on the house for cops,” she says. “Feds, too.” “Am I that obvious?” Dean asks. “I know all the local badges. And you’ve got that ‘Law and Order’ vibe,” she says, handing him his drink. “So? What’s the FBI doing in Windom?” “Looking into the disappearance of Joe Barton,” Dean replies, showing her the picture. She’s silent. “I assume you knew him?” Dean asks. “A little,” she says. “I’m his wife. Lisa.” Dean nods. “Well, Lisa, what can you tell me about his disappearance?” Dean asks. “Same thing I told the sheriff. He stayed late, Friday before last, to do inventory. Never came home,” she says. “And the police?” Dean asks. “Nothing,” she replies. “Truth is I was scared they stopped looking. But now you’re here.” Dean smiles, and looks up behind the bar. There are pictures of Lisa and Joe together, and a picture of Joe in a police uniform. “Joe was a cop?” Dean says. “Deputy,” she says. “For a little whlie. That was a long time ago.” “He didn’t happen to work the grave robbery case, back in ’90?” Dean asks. “He did, yeah,” she says. “Joe was the one who found those bodies. He got an award for that.” “Huh. That was interesting case,” Dean says, looking at the pictures again. The one of his dad at the crime scene is there, too. “He ever tell you how he did it?” “Most of the time, he said it was good, solid police work. But after a few beers, he’d admit he had a little help,” she says. “From who?” Dean asks. “A specialist. That’s all he’d say,” she replies. “Cops ever find the guy who stole the bodies?” Dean asks. “No. But when I asked Joe about it he would say not to worry, that they took care of what done it,” she says.
Motel
Adam is practicing taking apart the gun as Sam cleans a shotgun. “Sam… how did Dad really die?” he asks. “Demon,” Sam says shortly. “He hunted it down?” Adam asks. “Got revenge?” “Dean killed it,” Sam says. “So it’s over for you?” Adam asks. “It’s never over,” Sam replies. Suddenly, the lights go out. “What the…” Adam begins. “Shhh,” Sam says quickly. They can hear creaking. “Stay here,” Sam says, holding up his hand. He heads towards the bathroom, where the creaking is coming from. He kicks open the door, but there’s nothing there. They hear the creaking again, it seems to be moving around the room. “It’s in the vents,” Sam says, “Go!” He pushes Adam out of the room, and shoots at the wall as they go.
Outside, they run for Adam’s car. Sam is unlocking the doors when suddenly he’s pulled down onto his back, something has his ankles, and it’s under the car. Adam runs to help just as the Impala pulls up, Dean jumps out of the car and comes running. Together they pull Sam out of it’s grip, and Dean fires a round under the car. It’s gone.
Adam moves the car. Underneath is an open manhole. Dean finds blood at the entrance. “I winged it,” he says, walking over to Sam. “Did you see anything?” Sam shrugs. “I didn’t get a good look.” “What the hell is this thing?” Dean wonders, after putting his shotgun back in the trunk. “Should we go after it?” Adam asks. “No, no. In that maze that thing’s long gone,” Dean replies. “Alright, so we don’t know what it is, but we do know who it’s going after,” Sam says. “Joe Barton, Adam’s mom…” “And Adam,” Dean says. “It was under his truck, just waiting for him.” “It set a trap. And I walked right into it,” Sam says. “It doesn’t matter. You’re right, there’s a pattern. Joe Barton was a cop. I’m pretty sure he helped out Dad. So we got him, Dad’s girl, and his son,” Dean finishes. “All the people Dad knew in town,” Sam says. “At least we know why it’s back,” Dean says. “It wants revenge,” Adam says.
Adam’s house
“Grab your stuff, we’ll hit the road,” Dean orders once they’re in. Adam goes to do so, Sam sits down at the table and props up his ankle, preparing to bandage it. “We shouldn’t leave,” he says. “Yeah, stay here where the kid’s mom got ganked. Good one,” Dean says. “I’m serious,” Sam replies. “No, Sam. We’re gonna take the kid, we’re gonna drop him off at Bobby’s, and then you and me are gonna come back here and finish what Dad started,” Dean says firmly. “How?” Sam asks after a moment. “We got no leads, no witnesses. We do have what this thing wants.” Dean stares at him, then walks closer. “You wanna use the kid as bait? That’s why you want to stay here?” “Maybe this thing’ll come back,” Sam says. “We can train Adam. Get him ready.” “He could die, Sam,” Dean says. “We could all die, Dean,” Sam snaps. “Even if we do kill this thing, there are tons of other freaks that want revenge. On Dad. On us. What if they find the kid instead, and he’s not ready?” “I’ll do it,” Adam says from the doorway. “Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. I wanna do it.”
Sam fires three bullets into a metal sign, smack in the middle. Adam is standing next to him, watching. “Whoa,” he says. “It’s easy. Just feel the recoil, and time the trigger pulls,” Sam replies. “Three taps.” He hands him the gun. Adam gets ready, and takes three shots. They’re all grouped together nicely. “Beginner’s luck, right?” Adam says. Dean, who is watching by the Impala, shakes his head and looks away. “Come on man, you’re a natural,” Sam says.
“So, then we lit it on fire,” Sam is saying to Adam. They’re sitting at a table together, Dean is sitting in the next room, watching. “With a home-made flame thrower?” Adam asks incredulously. “Yeah, they’re easy to build. I’ll show ya,” Sam says with a smile. “That is some job you got man,” Adam says. “Being a hunter isn’t a job, Adam. It’s life,” Sam says. “You’re pre-med. You got a girlfriend, friends?” Adam nods. “Not anymore you don’t,” Sam says. “If you’re really gonna do this, you can’t have those kinds of connections. Ever. They’re weaknesses. You’ll just put those people in danger, get them killed.” Dean watches silently, then looks away. “It’s the price we pay,” Sam goes on, glancing at Dean. “You cut them out, and then you don’t look back. There’s only one thing you can count on. Family.” “Sam?” Dean says suddenly. “Can I talk to you?”
Sam joins Dean in the other room. “What the hell was that?” Dean asks. “What?” Sam asks. “Hunting is life? You can’t have connections? Dad gave you that exact same speech, remember? It was just before you ditched us for Stanford. You hated Dad for saying that stuff, and now you’re quoting him?” Dean says. “Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right,” Sam replies. “Since when?” Dean gapes. “Since always,” Sam says. “Dean, when I look at Adam, you know what I see?” “A normal kid!” Dean says. “No. Meat,” Sam says. “Because to the demons and monsters out there, that’s all he is. I hated Dad for a long time. I did. But now, I think I understand. So we didn’t have a dog, and white picket fence. So what? Dad did right by us. He taught us how to protect ourselves. Adam deserves the same.” Dean stares at him. “Listen to yourself, man.” “You think I’m wrong?” Sam gapes. “I think it’s too late for us,” Dean says after a moment. “This is our life. This is who we are. Okay, and it’s fine. I accept that. But with Adam? He’s still got a chance, man. He can go to school, he can be a doctor…” “What makes Adam so special?” Sam interrupts. “What, are you jealous of the kid?” Dean asks. “Are you?” Sam asks. Dean stares at him silently. Sam looks away. “Dean. All this? It’s not real. The Dad Adam knew? He wasn’t real. The things out there in shadows – they are real. The world is coming to an end. That’s real. Everything else is just part of the crap people tell themselves to get through the day!” “Dad didn’t have a choice with us, okay? But with Adam, he did,” Dean replies. “Adam doesn’t have to be cursed!” “He’s a Winchester,” Sam says, smiling humourlessly. “He’s already cursed.” Dean shakes his head. “No. No, whatever’s hunting Adam, I’m gonna find it.” “You already looked everywhere, Dean,” Sam reminds him. “Well then I’ll look again,” Dean snaps, and walks past Sam.
Tomb, night
Dean’s back in the tomb he was in before, where the bodies were stolen. He heads to the back, and sighs, seeing nothing. After a second, he hears a breeze coming from somewhere, and notices there are a couple of loose cement blocks behind one of the coffins. He manages to move the blocks, and crouches down, shining the flashlight in. It’s a tunnel. Dean sighs and heads in. He comes out in a small room, with some coffins and bones on the floor. “Home sweet home,” he says, and turns only to step in something squishy. He crouches down – there’s blood and bones and an arm. He finds a pair of glasses on the floor – Joe Barton’s glasses. “Sloppy Joe,” he comments. Suddenly, he hears the blocks shifting at the entrance. He looks up and shines the flashlight down – something is moving the blocks back over the hole. He fires his shotgun down the tunnel, but dirt falls down suddenly and fills up the tunnel. He crouches, hiding his eyes, until it’s stopped falling, then stands. It’s completely full of dirt. “Ah, son of a bitch,” he curses. He quickly pulls out his cellphone, but soon finds there’s no signal. “Son of a bitch,” he repeats.
Adam’s house
Sam is pouring salt at all the entrances, and Adam’s hammering wood over all the windows as well. “Alright,” Sam says as the two guys stand over the opened grate. “We’ve closed off every other way into the house. If this thing’s coming, it’s coming through here.” Suddenly, they hear a door open. “You were saying?” Adam says. “Adam? Adam!” cries a voice. “Mom?” he shouts, and runs out of the room. “Adam!” Sam yells, and runs after him with his shotgun. Adam rounds the corner to see his mother, standing in the kitchen, her arm wrapped around her middle. “Mom!” he yells, running forward and ignoring Sam’s warnings. “I got away, I got away!” she sobs as he hugs her. “Adam, step away from her!” Sam yells. “Sam, what the hell!” Adam says. “She’s not your mother!” Sam insists. “Adam – who – what is going on?” Kate asks.
Tomb
Dean kicks uselessly at various places in the tomb, but nothing moves. He walks back across, stepping over skeletons, and notices a fairly new looking coffin at the side. He opens it to find Kate. She’s dead, the bottom half of her bloody and torn apart.
House
“Get away from him!” Sam yells. “What is going on?” Kate asks. “You listen to me…” Sam begins. “It’s really her, okay?” Adam says. “There was too much blood. Your mother’s dead,” Sam replies. “There was too much blood in the vent!” Adam grabs the shotgun from him and pulls it away. “Shoot it!” Sam yells. “He’s crazy! Honey, it’s me!” his mom tries again. Adam moves the shotgun to aim at Sam. “Adam, it’s not your mother!” Sam yells. Adam aims at his mom again. “Shoot it, it’s not human!” Sam orders. Adam smiles. “I know.” He then hits Sam in the face with the shotgun, knocking him out. Adam smiles at his mom.
Tomb
Dean opens a second coffin to find Adam’s dead body, also torn apart. He runs for the doors again, desperately looking for a way out. Frantic, he notices a stained-glass window above him.
House
Sam wakes up to humming. He is tied down to the kitchen table. He sees Kate, nearby, cutting her fingernails with a silver knife. “Silver,” he says. “No wonder the tests worked. You’re not shapeshifters. You’re ghouls.” She turns around. “Now I find that term racist.” She comes over and sniffs him, smiling. “Mmm – fresh meat. So much better than we’re used to.” “I shoulda known,” Sam says. “It was the first kills that threw me. Ghouls don’t usually go after the living. See, you’re just filthy scavengers. Feeding off the dead. Taking the form of the last corpse you choked down.” “And their thoughts, and their memories,” Adam adds, walking in. “Like Adam, for instance.” “Yeah, well we are what we eat,” Kate says. “You’re monsters,” Sam says, and Adam cuts his arm. Kate crosses to his arm and begins to drink his blood. “You use that word a lot, Sam,” Adam comments. He stabs the knife into the table by Sam’s head. “I don’t think you know what it means.” “His blood, it tastes different,” Kate says, lifting her head. “Our father was a monster?” Adam asks. “Why? Cause of what he ate? He never hurt anyone, Sam. Living, anyway.” “No. He was no monster,” Kate says, tracing the knife over Sam’s chest. “But the thing that killed him was. A monster named John Winchester.”
Tomb
Dean has pulled a coffin over under the window. “Holy crap,” he says, then climbs up. Once up, he smashes the window with his crowbar, and then slips it up so it’s over the hole. He then pulls himself up, and climbs out.
House
Adam digs his finger into a wound on Sam’s side, ignoring his yells of pain. “Thanks to your daddy, my brother and I grew up on our own,” Kate says. “At least we had each other.” Adam licks his finger off. “Like you and your brother, inseparable.” “Actually, it was very hard to get you on your own,” Kate comments. “Like you said Sam, the only thing you can count on is family,” Adam adds. Kate goes back to drinking the blood off his arm. “Mmhmm – and for twenty years, we lived like rats.” “Graveyard after graveyard, all that stinking flesh…” Adam says. “And then we thought, hey! Why not move up to fresher game?” Kate says. “And we knew just where to start,” Adam continues. He pokes the knife into the cut on Sam’s arm, and Sam growls in pain. “Revenge, it’s never over, is it Sam?” “First, it was John’s cop friend. And then his slut, and then his son,” Kate says. “And I called John, but… son of a bitch was already dead,” Adam adds. “So, I guess you and Dean’ll have to do instead,” Kate says, touching his face. “Dean won’t interrupt us this time,” Adam says. “We’re gonna feed on you nice and slow. Like we did with Adam.” “Oh, and by the way?” Kate says. “He really was your brother.” Sam clenches his fists, trying desperately to break out of the ropes. “You should know that,” Kate says. “He was still alive when we took our first bites,” Adam says. “And he was a screamer,” Kate hisses. She stands, and cuts Sam’s arm from the wrist up to his elbow, and then again. Sam screams. His blood starts dripping into bowls underneath. “Sam! The more you struggle, the faster you’re gonna bleed out,” Adam says. “So you might as well lie back and relax.” Sam ignores him, and his blood is dripping faster and faster.
“Hey!” They look up to see Dean, who shoots Adam into the wall. “Dean, they’re ghouls!” Sam yells. Dean glances at him, then shoots Kate in the head. She falls dead. “Which means headshots,” Dean says. He moves to untie Sam, and suddenly Adam grabs him and throws him through the window into the next room. Sam is bleeding more and more. Dean continues to fight with Adam, finally throwing him down and hitting him repeatedly in the head with the crowbar until he’s dead. “Dean!” Sam calls. Dean quickly hurries over and cuts the ropes, helping Sam sit up. He quickly wraps towels around Sam’s arms. “Thank you,” Sam says. Dean looks at him. “That’s what family’s for, right? Keep pressure on that.”
Outside, night
“You sure we should do this?” Sam asks. Adam’s body is wrapped up and on a pile of wood. “Ghouls didn’t fake those pictures,” Dean replies, “And they didn’t fake Dad’s journal… Adam was our brother.” He pours holy water on the body. “He died like a hunter, he deserves to go out like one.” “Maybe we can bring him back,” Sam suggests. “Get a hold of Cas, call in a favour.” “No, Adam’s in a better place,” Dean replies. He strikes a match and throws it on the funeral pier. They watch for a moment in silence, and then Dean says “You know, I finally get why and Dad butted heads so much. You two are practically the same person. I mean, I worshipped the guy. I dressed like him, I acted like him, I listened to the same music… but you are more like him than I will ever be. I see that now.” Sam watches him for a second. “I’ll take that as compliment.” “You can take it any way you want,” Dean replies. He looks away, jaw tight.
