Robin’s Rambles – “Hello Cruel World”

“You’re not real,” gasps Sam, Lucifer’s hand around his throat. “Right,” chortles Luci, “you think this fruit-packed fevered dream is reality? You come back, I’m sorry, with no soul, like some peppy AMERICAN PSYCHO, till Saint Dean glues you back together again by buying you some magic amnesia?” He lets Sam drop. “You’re real,” says Luci, “I’m very real, everything between is what we call set-dressing.” “No,” protests Sam. “You’re still in my cell,” says Luci, “you’re still my little biiitch in every sense of the term, Sam.” “Sam! Sam!” calls Dean, merging with Sam’s hallucination, “you hear me?” His brother’s hand on Sam makes him flinch. “Look at me,” orders Dean, staring into his brother’s eyes, “hey, we gotta button this up. Come on, let’s get outta here.” Trailing Dean and Bobby, Sam looks fearfully back into the cellar-like room.

Cas, now pretty much covered in blood, his hair flowing bloody tendrils down his face, comes to a fence with a locked gate protecting municipal waters. He wades in, arms outstretched. By the time Bobby, Sam and Dean catch up to him, the water has consumed him, swirling around in a clockwise eddy that turns to black, looking like the world’s most horrific water pollution has just been introduced into the public water supply–which, it has. “Aw, hell,” laments Bobby.

 

 

The Leviathan are in the pipes, realize the hunters, and now they’ve got themselves a conduit to anywhere. “Awesome,” says Dean, who spies Cas’ trench-coat lying in the water. Gulping down a sob, bundling up the iconic garment, Dean says, “OK, so he’s gone.” “Rest in peace,” adds Bobby, “if that’s in the cards.” “Dumb son-of-a-bitch,” says Dean, sounding near tears.” “He was friends with us, wa’nt he?” asks Bobby, “can’t get much dumber than that. Come on, those things’ll be comin’ up for air soon.” They retreat, the Doobie Brothers aptly singing “Black Water” as they exit. A sign reading MUNICIPAL RESERVOIR, NO ENTRANCE FOR ANY PURPOSE, VIOLATORS SUBJECT TO PROSECUTION BY LAW hangs on the fence. Irony, we know.

Water is life. A batch of pretty girls in bikinis are having a car wash. A woman fills a pitcher with water in her kitchen. A little dark-haired girl suddenly finds herself drinking something inky black from a water fountain; at first, she convulses, then she smiles evilly. A man working on his car in his garage notices his wet sink acting oddly; he turns off the radio playing “Black Water”, goes to check it out and is splattered with the same ichor that filled the little girl’s mouth.

Sam, asleep on Bobby’s couch, hears Luci’s voice, “Wake up, sunshine! Up and at em, Adam Ant!” It’s Dean waking him, who decides 12 straight hours of sleep is enough, gives him a bottle of water and tells him to “Hydrate” and a protein bar and tells him to “Protein- ate.” “Breakfast in bed,” declares Sam. Dean advises him not to get used to it and asks to see Sam’s injured hand (which was bandaged in last week’s ep, too). “Aw, he wants to hold your widdle hand,” mocks Luci, sitting just feet away, “how sweet.” Dean removes the bandage. “You’ll live,” he says, pouring booze on it. Sam hisses in pain and asks if there’s any news. Bobby takes over, bandaging the hand, explaining that there’s nothing as blatant as anything going MOTHRA down Main Street. He’s sure they’ll turn up; they seem pretty eager to stretch their legs. “On to our other big problem,” says Dean to his brother, “how are YOU doing–and don’t say okay.” “I’m not okay,” confesses Sam calmly. “Ya thank?” says Dean. “Hey,” says Bobby, “go a little easy.” “There’s nothin’ easy about it,” says Dean, “we acted like he had everything under control.” (Ed. note: What’s this WE stuff, Dean, YOU acted like Sam had it under control! Bobby was the one who had doubts.) “I get it,” says Sam, “I’m sorry, I didn’t exactly want to crack up.” When Dean presses, Sam confesses, “It’s not just flashbacks anymore, it’s more like I’m seeing through the cracks–I’m having a difficult time figuring what what’s real” “Hallucinations,” says Dean. “For starters,” says Sam. “If you’re trippin’ to hell’s bells, why would you hide that?” demands Dean angrily. “I wasn’t hiding it,” says Sam, “I just wasn’t talking about it; it seemed as if you two had enough going on as it was–I figured try and hold onto the safety bar and ride it out, you know? But it’s getting more specific.” “As if specifically what?” demands Dean.

It’s a bit later, soothing alcohol has been poured. “What the hell, Sam?” asks Dean. “I told you,” says Sam. “How do you argue with that?” demands Dean. “I know, it’s a problem,” agrees Sam, shrugging. “I got it,” says Dean, “why would the devil Holodeck you a whole new life when he could just kick your ass all over the cage?” “Cause, as he puts it,” says Sam (and the rest is said by Sam and Luci in tandem), “you can’t torture someone who has nothing left for you to take away.” “Very good, Sam,” says Luci, pointing an approving finger at him. “OK, fine,” says Dean, “but this Malibu dream mansion that he makes for you to take away is this post-apocalyptic mess?” “It had to be a mess, Sam,” Luci whispers to him, winking, “or you wouldn’t believe it was your life.” Noting that Sam is staring at a chair filled with books, Dean says, “Wait, are you seeing him right now?” Sam nods. “You know that he’s not real, right? says Dean. “He says the same thing about you,” counters Sam. Bobby and Dean exchange a look. “I’m going back to work,” the older man says.

On TV, the little girl who received the mouthful of Leviathan water watches the discussion of the mysterious, inexplicable eclipse that occurred. She changes channels, coming across a commercial for Biggerson’s pie buffet and a commercial for Dr. Sexy, MD, where being head surgeon means being able to cut into whatever body you want and taking out whatever organ pleases you–without any paperwork whatsoever. The little girl smiles.

Bobby and Dean are watching Sam. “At least he’s not curled up under the sink,” opines Bobby.” “No, he’s just silently sitting there, field-stripping his weapons,” says Dean, who turns on the GPS in Sam’s phone “just in case he decides to flee the cuckoo’s nest.” Dean is concerned that Sam’s the kind of crazy that can’t be fixed. Bobby’s worried, too, but he has a pertinent question for the elder Winchester: “How are YOU?” “Who cares?” asks Dean–“don’t you think our mailbox is a little full right now?–I’m fine.” “Riiight,” says Bobby in disbelief, “and weren’t you pissed at him just a coupla hours before he spilled his marbles all over the floor?” “Yeah, well,” says Dean, pouring a coffee, “I’m not Sam. I keep my marbles in a (?) free box.” “Yeah, sure,” says Bobby sarcastically, “just lost one of the best friends you ever had, your brother’s in the Bell Jar, and Purgatory’s most-wanted is surfin’ the sewer lines, but you’re fiiine.” “Good,” says Dean. “Of course,” says Bobby, “if at any time you decide that’s utter horse crap, I’ll be where I always am–right here.” “You wanna do couples’ yoga,” says Dean, “or do you wanna go back to huntin’ the big bads?” “Shaddup. . .idjit,” orders Bobby, half-smiling. Dean grins crookedly. (One of those moments I can watch over and over. I should have known something bad was going to befall Bobby!)

Stockville High School – “Up yours, Manning, I still got .06 on your time,” one guy brags to another, good-naturedly smacking his buddy’s chest. Two teammates who got there earlier and “heard something weird” close and lock the door. Although it’s pointed out to them that they’re going to get in trouble for being tardy, they guess they’re just “too hungry to care.” The two attack the other three, leaving gobs of blood spatter in their wake.

Sioux Falls General Hospital – Bobby’s friend, Sheriff Jody Mills, is in her hospital bed, post-appendectomy. Her roomie is regaling her with horror stories of a woman who had so many hospital tools left inside her, it was like she was a pinata! Dr. Gaines, Jody’s doctor, comes to sit on her bed, assuring her that hers was a textbook appendectomy. “I know you’re tough,” he says, “but I want you to take it easy tonight.” “Works for me, Doc,” she says, smiling happily. “The good news is,” he says, “I put you down for some pretty fun painkillers.” (His voice reminds me too much of that of creepy Pestilence!) She’s pleased. He promises to check on her first thing and assures her she’ll be back home in no time. Jody is grinning happily. “Charming, isn’t he?” asks her roomie, Mrs. Hackett. “Did you know that a study showed that three-quarters of all doctors cheat on their exams? He might not know your appendix from your vagina.” (Ed. note: The mental image that crept into my brain is not printable ANYWHERE. Seriously, folks, you’d have to be pretty stupid to mix up those two, right? Imagine attempting to TAKE OUT a vagina? You could accidentally take out a clitoris, I guess, but. . .never mind, the mind boggles, and I don’t even want to go there.)

Dean, returning from a supply run, gets bad news from Sam: Stockville, North Kansas – Most of the swim team got mangled to death in their locker room. Bobby adds that it looked like some wild animal attack; whatever attacked them is about the size of a linebacker. “It’s a lead,” points out Sam, and agrees that while HE isn’t going out on a hunt, Dean is: “Bobby’s running the hub, I’m 51-50’d, which leaves you to follow this thing up.” “Sam, you’re in the middle of a psychotic break!” protests Dean. “It’s a couple of hours drive,” points out Sam, “and it could be our Leviathan thing.” “What am I?” asks Bobby–“chopped brains on toast?–I can eyeball the kid, go–work off some of these nerves on something useful.” Bobby sits across the desk from Sam. “Fine,” says Dean, sounding almost insulted.

Playground – The guy from the garage stands over the little girl who took the first mouthful of Leviathan water. She’s sitting on a swing. “You took an awfully small body,” he says. “Too small, she didn’t know anything,” the child complains, “can’t even see over the counter.” “This one–Edgar,” he says, indicating his own vessel, sitting on the swing next to hers, “Edgar worked on something called a demolitions crew–watching things blow up is apparently very satisfying.” “Annie knew where babies come from,” the child says, “disgusting, by the way. I’m hungry. We all are.” “Yes, about that,” he says. “I’m sorry!” she says. “Sorry?” he repeats–“they ate the swim team.” “Like I said–hungry,” she repeats. “That’s no excuse,” he says. “Well what do you want me to do?” she asks, belligerent. “Get them in line,” he orders, “I don’t care how. For God’s sake, it made the papers. Look, the Boss, honestly, he just wants to hear it’s taken care of, so take care of it–quickly–I don’t like bringing him bad news. Are we clear?” Actually,” she says, “I have an idea. I could use your help.”

Sioux Falls Hospital – Dr. Gaines comes across Annie humming “Ring Around the Rosy” behind a privacy screen. She asks, “Are you a Dr. Sexy?” Grinning, embarrassed, he asks where her parents are. “Is it true?” she asks–“surgeons can just cut into whatever body they want?” “WHAT?” he asks. “And remove whichever organs they please?” she continues. “Where in the world did you hear. . .?? “I want to be a surgeon when I grow up!” cries Annie. She grabs his arm and squeezes, hard, her strength apparently leviathan. “LET ME GO!” he shouts, in agony. “AND I WANT TO GROW UP NOW!” she insists, sending Dr. Gaines to his knees. There is the horrific sound of smashing, cracking bones, and we see TWO Dr. Gaines, one on his knees, one standing. The screen is splattered with blood.

A bit later, Dean, aka Special Agent Ian Anderson reports for duty and is told to watch out for the NC-17 schznickel by CSI. (No clue here, folks!) Lockers are toppled over. There’s sure a lot of blood. “Damn it,” says Dean.

Jody Mills awakens to find Dr. Gaines standing over her roomie, trying to force anesthesia on her in the middle of the night. “Shhh, Just breathe deeply,” he whispers. “But my surgery isn’t till tomorrow,” she protests. “I’m Dr. Sexy–your surgery is when I say it is,” the surgeon insists. He knocks her out and wheels her out. Jody pretends to be asleep, but when they’re gone, she says, “Not weird at all.”