Robin’s Rambles: “Defending Your Life”

Dearborn, Michigan – A man, sweaty and breathless, runs from a car chasing him. When he thinks he has averted it, he turns to find it’s mysteriously appeared on his other side. “That’s impossible!” he gasps, as it chases him down again. He ducks into a building, unlocks a door, runs up to the 10th floor and closes it behind him. “You’re OK,” he assures himself–until he realizes he’s able to see the air he’s breathing. He turns, horrified– the car is bearing down on him. “NOOOOOOOO!” he cries. His body is smashed to a pulp, matching the credits. 

Dean and Sam, gorgeously suited up, pull up in the Impala where the case is being investigated. Sam, apparently feeling Lucifer’s presence, presses his thumb into his healed hand, reminding himself what is real. “Feels wonky,” remarks Dean. “WHAT?” asks Sam, thinking he’s been caught. “Working a regular job,” says Dean. “Bobby will call if anything flares up on he Leviathan front,” says Sam. Dean thinks it’s good they’re working something regular, cut and dry–“and you seem good,” he remarks. “I am,” says Sam, “and thanks–for Amy–I know you didn’t want to let her go, but it was the right thing to do, so thanks.” (Hello, guilt meter is reflected on Dean’s face!) “No problem,” says Dean. The brothers flash their FBI badges and enter the crime scene. The cop in charge welcomes them to Crazy Town, population one dead guy. The vic was Matthew Hammond, and he was crushed to death. “If it weren’t on the 10th floor, I’d say by a car.” CSI takes pictures of the bloody hole in the brick wall. Sam’s EMF meter is going crazy. “Some kind of ghost–with a license?” says Dean, quipping “license to KILL.” “Seriously?” asks Sam. Sam finds red residue on the carpet, but it’s not powder or sulfur, just dirt. “Possessed cars can’t do stairs,” says Dean, looking through a bowl of what I guess are the vic’s personal effects, “it’s something spectral.” He finds an AA chip, 10 years. “Dead and sober, double crappy,” says Dean, tossing the chip to Sam. Sam finds a $50 a month charge to a place called Jane’s. He tosses back the chip to Dean, who says he gave up sobriety for Lent. (LOL!) “We’re not Catholic,” says Sam. “Always with the details,” says Dean, “AA gives me the jeeves.” “Wow, shocking,” says Sam, “I’ll get the meeting, you go ahead on Jane.” He hands him the paperwork.

At the Dearborn Outreach Center, a woman explains to Sam that Matt was a tortured soul who had a lot going on, but he played it all close to the vest. Something was eating at him the last time she saw him. He almost slipped just before he died. “He called me from Neal’s Tavern, said he was an inch away from drinking, I ran over and talked him off the ledge–but like I said, he didn’t share much.”

Dean grins at a pretty girl exiting a flower shop. Dean explains to the shopgirl about Matt’s death. That explains a lot, she says–apparently he paid three years in advance to keep his monthly delivery going–to a Miss Elizabeth Duren. Dean asks for the latter’s address. 

The brothers find that Miss Duran is buried in a cemetery and was only 10 when she died. Dean suggests they chew on who she was back at the hotel. Checking the computer, they learn Elizabeth Duran was killed when a neighbor ran her over while she was riding her bike. “Kinda makes you wonder if the guy wasn’t drunk when he ran her over,” says Dean, eying his beer as he takes a gulp. “Now that we got a decent bead on Ghost Rider, let’s burn her bones,” says Sam, “put her to rest.” “The fun never stops,” complains Dean. 

A man, pursued by a dog, locks himself in a restaurant. “Keep that thing away from me!” he screams, racing to the men’s room and locking himself in. He dials 911, explaining he’s in a restaurant somewhere and needs help, but turns to find the dog there with him. It goes for him. There’s blood splattered all over the walls. The 911 operator is calling to him, promising to send paramedics if he tells her where he is, but it’s obvious he won’t need them–he’s very much dead. 

Editor’s notes: I found this portion of the show pretty dull. I guess these investigation have taken on a “been there done that” air for me that just doesn’t engross me anymore. I like the quips between the brothers, but I found myself squirming in my seat, waiting for something more interesting to happen.

The brothers enter their hotel room. “Another night at the office,” growls Dean, “why don’t you take the first shower.” Sam reads to Dean from the local newspaper about a man being torn to shreds by a wild animal the previous night. Turns out the guy had a history with dogs–five years ago, he was arrested for running a dog-fighting ring. “So some rottie goes Cujo on him beyond the grave? suggests Dean–do dogs even have ghosts?” This is the first Sam’s heard of it. Ghost dog?  Ghost car?  Both weird. Vengeance on the guy who Michael Vicked you makes sense, says Dean–I’m no one to judge, but it sounds like that guy had it coming. Maybe, but maybe not, says Sam–he got busted, got probation, continued working for an animal shelter long after he had to and raised a lot of money for them–people change. Tell that to ghost dog, advises Dean. (LOL!) Get suited up, says Sam, we’ll go check out the body. Dean isn’t thrilled. At the Wayne County Coroner’s Office, Dean waits outside. Sam joins him and tells him he found the same red dirt under this guy’s nails and on his feet that they found on the car crash guy’s floor, so there’s got to be some place they both walked–which turns out to be an apple farm. “Apparently what’s in red dirt makes great apples,” reveals Sam. “I’d be SO interested in that if I ate apples,” says Dean sarcastically. “This place is old, abandoned, a few hundred acres,” says Sam, which doesn’t please Dean: “We’ll be searching all year!” he bitches. 

They finally catch a break in the case when they nearly run down an old black man running away from two people he shot and killed in a liquor store robbery in 1981. He’s just been sentenced to death, he claims, which makes little sense to the brothers, especially since he just got out of prison. “I did 30 years, just got paroled,” the man explains. “I was running from the trial! One minute I’m at the bar, and the next I get jumped! Wake up in a damn courtroom! There was a judge; everything was crazy–it was in a barn.” “At the apple farm?” asks Sam. “Yeah,” the guy replies. He was grabbed at Neal’s Tavern. Same place as Matt Hammond, Sam reminds Dean. “You believe me–who the hell are you?” the guy asks them. Sam asks him if the judge has a name. No, but there were symbols. Sam asks him to draw them for him. 

Dean, puzzled, takes Sam outside their Rainier Hotel for a discussion while the guy is drawing. A drunk driver, Michael Vick, a murderer–when did our black and white case turn to mud?  It’s not on us to judge, says Sam. Complete crap, says Dean, everyone judges all day long; I’m just supposed to ignore what that guy did?–I have a hard time not rooting for the ghosts on this one. We’ve shot people, Sam reminds him, more than two. Yeah, and when those ghosts come to kick my ass, they’ve got a compelling case, says Dean.  So you’re saying you don’t want to work the job anymore.” Sam asks. Dean just wants one simple day on the job, that’s all. Sam heads to work the barn, Dean the bar. To work or drink? asks Sam. Dean hasn’t decided.

Sam tries to convince the man they saved to go with him to find the barn, but, nearly hysterical, he refuses, safer with Sam or not. The people he shot are out there waiting for him! Sam seats the guy in a salt circle and tells him to stay put, then sends the symbols the guy drew to Bobby via cell phone.

Bar – Dean orders a double scotch from a stunning blond bartender named Mia. He asks if she works the night shift, and she asks if he’s planning on making this a regular thing. She believes him when he tells her he’s a cop cop–you look like you’ve seen some crap, she says. When he downs two quick doubles, she asks if it’s work or love life, has to be one. I’m like a captive shrink with unlimited alcohol, she points out. She gets curious, on occasion, to hear people’s problems, and pours one for each of them. A man listens intently to what Dean is telling Mia. Work thing, he says–“You ever do something behind someone’s back because you had to?” If you had to, she says, why feel bad, it doesn’t make any sense. “We don’t have enough room for the worms popping from that can, sister,” insists Dean. When she says she’s off in an hour and suggests he slow down on his booze, he switches to beer. “Good choice,” she grins. (Ed. note: Dean looked SO good, but the way he was putting away the booze, I can’t figure out how he’s going to get it up.)

Red barn – Sam arrives in the Impala, finds the red dirt on the floor inside. Bobby calls to tell him the “chicken scratches” are Egyptian, Book of the Dead. They ID the god Osiris, real authoritarian type. He gets hold of you and becomes judge, jury and executioner. Lore says he sees directly into the human heart, weighs the guilt, finds more than a feather’s worth, you’re done. He pops up, does the circuit judge gig, and leaves. Which means Sam and Dean must get the he’ll out of Dodge, insists Bobby. Who feels guiltier than the Winchesters? Sam gulps.

Dean waits for Mia in front of the bar, giving himself a pep talk: “Enjoy yourself, it’s been a while, put your mitt down, you are Dean Winchester, this is what you do.” His phone rings, but before he can answer, he’s grabbed by a shadowy hand and dragged away.

Editor’s note: What pisses me off about Osiris is that he doesn’t give credit for time served or the fact that people who do wrong more than make up for their crimes. The man Sam and Dean nearly ran over already served his time and was out on parole. Dog Fight Guy more than made up for his crime (well, maybe, to some people) by working more than his allotted time at the animal shelter, then raising large amounts of money on their behalf. They paid their debt to society, but if Osiris was going to judge folks on the guilt in their hearts, he was going to be one very busy god, because we usually judge ourselves more harshly than our peers do. So while Sam managed to make Dean see he shouldn’t feel guilty over what happened to Jo or Sam, that third witness, Amy, even though she wasn’t even called, only needed to be brought back into MEMORY for Dean to convict himself. He felt guilty not just for killing Amy, but for lying about her behind Sam’s back. Notice Sam doesn’t learn about Dean’s betrayal, not from Osiris or from a confession from Dean. If not for Bobby’s timely knowledge about how to do away with Osiris, Dean would have died at Jo’s hand–because of the overwhelming guilt at killing Amy.

Sam leaves his brother a third cell phone message: “You’d better not be loaded. Call me, this is important.” 

Mia, waiting outside the bar for Dean, picks the ringing phone up off the pavement. She asks if this is Dean’s phone. Learning it is, she explains he was supposed to meet her here. Sam rushes to Mia’s side.

When ghosts disrupt the TV and lights in the hotel room, the guy they saved runs out of the protective salt circle, the room–and directly into the ghosts he murdered. They have a gun. “You did it to us!” rasps the husband, and shoots him dead.

Mia tells Sam she hopes Dean is OK and shows him where she found the phone. Sam kneels, locates the telltale red dirt, and heads off where he needs to go. He enters a barn, where a gleaming gold throne sits and Egyptian symbols abound.

In another room, Dean is secured to a chair with chains. He pushes futilely against the bonds. “Quit squirming, Mr. Winchester, they’re Houdini-proof,” warns Osiris, “now, you wanna talk about charges, or. . .” Dean prefers to discuss “Your Bukowski shtick at the bar–what, can’t jump a guy when he’s sober?” “You and that waitress had quite a talk, huh?” states Osiris, “get a couple of drinks in you and the guilt comes POURING out!” “Eavesdropping, that’s cute,” says Dean. “Speaking of, are you gonna skulk all night, Sam?” asks Osiris. Sam joins them. Osiris praises him for finding him, and for figuring out who he is. “You wanna fill me in?” asks Dean roughly. “Osiris, an Egyptian god,” supplies Sam. “TA DA!” crows Osiris, who then orders Sam to leave, go about his business. Sam has a better idea: “If anyone should be on trial, it’s me.” “That’s for me to decide, now GO AWAY,” orders the god. “He has the right to an attorney,” insists Sam, “let me defend him.” “That’s unusual,” remarks Osiris. “Are you going to respect his rights or not?” pushes Sam. “Why not,” says Osiris, inviting Sam to sit beside Dean, who reminds his brother he was only PRE-law. Osiris points out that he has an ENDLESS list of witnesses to call. “Objection!” calls Sam, “this isn’t fair!” “FAIR? I’m sorry. Moving on,” says Osiris, “I can make it very simple–three witnesses.” “OBJECTION!” calls Sam again–“witnesses being called without prior notice. “Good one,” praises Dean. Sam saw that on GOOD WIFE. “Very fine objection,” says Osiris–“DENIED!” “WHAT? WHY?” demands Sam. “Because I’m the judge, sit,” says Osiris, “now stop objecting, or I’ll find you in contempt, that is, kill you–so I advise you to let me move it along!” (Wow, kangaroo court much?) First witness: Joanna Beth Harvelle. She looks. . .dead, attired in hunter garb. “Jo,” greets Dean. “Dean. . .Sam,” she says, “long time.” Osiris asks her to sit down and state her name for the court and her relationship to Dean. “We worked together,” she replies. (We see their first meeting, when she disarmed him and thrust a gun into his back, working together on her first case, with the murdered blonds.) “Did you admire him?” asks Osiris. “As a hunter,” Jo answers, “as a guy, he was kind of a jerk.” “So, you saw him as a mentor of sorts?” Osiris continues. “I wouldn’t put it like that,” she says, “I trusted him, so if you’re trying to say he was a bad guy. . .” “Was it hard, working with him?” asks Osiris, “considering your feelings?” “No, what feelings?” Jo asks. “You would have followed him into any battle,” says Osiris. “I know what you’re getting at,” says Jo, “and it’s bull!” “So Dean had nothing to do with your first case, the one that started it all,” prods Osiris. (A few quick scenes Dean recalls from “No Exit”: he’s tossing her father’s knife, following her through a very narrow wall, hacking through a wall to save her, Jo covering her eyes when she’s enclosed in a wooden box by a ghost, then grabbed and thrown up and down by the ghost.) “It wasn’t like that,” insists Jo. “No feelings–none at all,” says Osiris–“you would have chosen the exact same vote–ended up in that hardware store, holding a fuse.” “You’re a piece of work,” accuses Dean, “you know that?–put words in her mouth?” Osiris silences Dean, stopping any words from coming out of HIS mouth, leaving him gasping for air. “Keep him under control, Counsel,” he warns Sam, “or I’ll cut out his tongue. Your witness.” 

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