Created on Sunday, 12 October 2008 22:54
Last Updated on Sunday, 09 June 2013 22:44
Written by Alice Jester
Page 2 of 4
â€œIf I didnâ€™t know you, I would want to hunt youâ€
Back at the Willow Tree and Samâ€™s reading a book, alone. Dean enters in a snit and starts packing his things. Yep, still mad. Sam, walking on pins and needles, comes over to talk and Dean whips around and clocks him right in the jaw! Sam recovers and then Dean does it again! Heâ€™s not mad, heâ€™s livid.
Sam takes it like a man and Dean goes off on him for his inhuman behavior. â€œIâ€™m just exorcising demons,â€ Sam defends. â€œWith your mind!â€ Deanâ€™s got you there Sammy. He wants to know what else Sam can do. Sam says nothing, what he does only works with demons. Dean rightfully doesnâ€™t believe him.
Sam makes his pitch that what heâ€™s doing is saving lives because he isnâ€™t killing the victim. Heâ€™s saved more people in five months than they usually do in a year. Dean isnâ€™t convinced itâ€™s a good idea, probably because itâ€™s Rubyâ€™s. â€œItâ€™s gonna get darker, and darker, and God knows where it ends.â€ Sam replies, â€œIâ€™m not going to let it go too far,â€ and Dean responds by whacking a lamp across the room. Wrong answer!
This part is where my jaw hit the floor. Dean, complete with steely glare and tough guy stance that he usually reserves for the worst of the monsters he faces tells Sam, â€œIf I didnâ€™t know you, I would want to hunt you.â€ That causes the tears to pool in Samâ€™s eyes. Mine too. Sam defends, â€œYou were gone, I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you. And what Iâ€™m doing, it works.â€
Deanâ€™s got a better argument. â€œThen whyâ€™d you lie about it to me? Why did an angel tell me to stop you?â€ Samâ€™s weepy eyes go to panic. â€œThat means that God doesnâ€™t want you doing this. So you just going to stand there and tell me everything is all good?â€ Deanâ€™s got tears in his eyes now too, and Samâ€™s despondent now. Me too, and this weekâ€™s TiVo pause for a meltdown happens only seven minutes in.
Somehow Sam manages to answer the phone, even though his voice is so broken he barely gets the words out. He takes down the info, and weâ€™re onto the freak of the week. Iâ€™m not going to focus much on Jack for while his story fit the monster MO this show does so well, there are too many other emotional elements of greater importance. In summary, Jack canâ€™t eat enough and his bones are changing.
The Impala zooms to Carthage, Missouri and hereâ€™s another great moment for brothers to share info. This episode is a character development dream! Dean tells Sam about his trip back in time, revealing Mary was a hunter that could kick ass and how hopeful and full of life she and John were until that night of horror. Sam doesnâ€™t get the whole tragedy. â€œOur whole family murdered and for what, so Yellow Eyes could get in my nursery and bleed in my mouth?â€
Dean gets that puzzled â€œwait a secondâ€ reaction, hinting he never mentioned that to Sam. Then he says it. â€œI never said anything about demon blood.â€ Busted! Sam admits heâ€™s known about it for a year. He apologizes, but itâ€™s way too late for that. Deanâ€™s offended and lets him know in a biting way. Sam wants to explain, but backs off. At least Dean canâ€™t punch him right now.
Sam and Dean now check out Jack with binoculars, uncertain why this guy is so unusual. Oh, but wait for it, Jack gets super hungry and after devouring some leftover chicken helps himself to a package of raw beef, just to work in the ick requirement. After all, this is a horror show. Sam and Dean are now pretty stunned, for they see what's so unusual now.
New motel room and thereâ€™s Travis, the ill fated hunter for the week. Why does almost every hunter that runs into Sam and Dean end up dead? I wouldnâ€™t be calling them for a favor, thus making Travis the stupidest hunter ever. We learn the monster is a Rugaru, starting to turn in some sort of metamorphosis. Thereâ€™s the dual meaning for the title. Travis killed Jackâ€™s dad and didnâ€™t realize until it was too late he had a kid.
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