Slash Fiction
Season 7 Episode 6
Robin's Rambles by Robin Vogel

Now – Sam and Dean enter a bank, looking very unsure of themselves. “Are you sure about this?” asks Sam. “Trust me,” says Dean. They separate, Dean heading over to an attractive brunette teller. “Good morning, Megan,” he says, reading her name tag, “that's a very pretty dress.” Like most of the world's female population under Dean Winchester's scrutiny, she simpers. “Thank you,” she says, “it's vintage.” “Well it looks new on you,” he says. “Thank you,” she says, aren't you sweet, sir.” “”Call me Dean,” he urges. She asks how she can help him. Sam, meanwhile, is sliding a bar through the front door of the bank, ensuring no one can enter or leave. Dean explains he doesn't have an account at the bank, but asks if he can get change of that—-and slides a 20 dollar bill across the counter towards her. Charmed by his smile, she says she thinks she can make an exception, “Just for you.” Dean turns to exchange an “all ready” look with Sam. “How do you want it, Dean?” Megan asks him, smiling provocatively. “I'm gonna have to take a rain check,” he says, grinning back, pulling a gun out of his jacket, adding, “and all your money.” She gazes down at the frightening-looking automatic firearm in horror. Dean raises it up and fires at the ceiling over and over. “HANDS IN THE AIR!” screams Sam at the guard, adding, in a lower voice, “your money's insured, so no heroes, okay?” 

They load the whimpering, terrified employees and customers into the vault. “You ready?” Sam asks his brother. Dean is. They raise their guns and fire, shooting to death every single soul in the vault-—in full view of the bank's security cameras. They survey their handiwork, pleased, and leave.

(Ed. notes: Now, I was NOT spoiled for this episode, but I was sure that wasn't Sam and Dean violently gunning down all those innocent folks. It had to be clones or duplicates of some kind. I just had to sit back and learn which, why and how. Still, it was brutal and cruel to watch our sweet brothers doing it, and funny to hear Sam assure everyone that their money was ensured, so no one be a hero. It was darkly funny. I was reminded of the OTHER bank episode which included doppelgangers, and found myself missing a certain FBI agent who was on the brothers' trail for a few delicious seasons only to lose his life at the hands of that beeatch Lilith.)

Rufus' cabin, basement – Bobby is trying out a little “fruit of the poison tree” on captive Leviathan Chet, who is chained to a chair. “Isn't that just a legal expression?”Chet asks. “You're going to wish it was,” says Bobby, injecting him in the leg. The guy sloshes something in his mouth, as if he'd taken a sip of wine. “Oaky,” he says, “similar finish to holy water, not as bitter as rock salt.” He grins, pissing off Bobby. Sam and Dean come downstairs. “And how are my two favorite meatsicles?” chortles Chet. “That thing still suckin' air?” bitches Dean. “Greatest hits didn't do the trick,” says Bobby, “I'm down to B sides and deep cuts.” “We'd better figure out something quick,” says Dean, “that whammy that witch dude put on him is only going to last for a few days, he gets his spinach back, we're gonna have to drop a car on him just to stop him.” “Actually,” says Chet, “Edgar walked away from that car. He's fine-—well, he's a little pissed at YOU, but. . .oh, you didn't know?” “Why don't you shut your cake trap?” suggests Dean. “Bobby, you've been using all this stuff and he still won't talk?” asks Sam quietly. Bobby shakes his head. Dean moves over a stool and sits very close to Chet. “Huddle over, Coach?” asks Chet. “How did you find us?” demands Dean. “Easy—-I used (?) recognition software and a basic algorithm to track your last knock aliases.” “Great, just what we need, a MENSA monster,” bitches Bobby. Sam asks, “Where did you get our aliases?” “From your trench-coated friend, obviously,” answers Chet, “when we were all nestled in at Camp Cas—kinda got the full download—-this is how we do.” "Why are you talking to us?" asks Bobby--"you're not dumb-—why are you spilling state secrets?"  Because I'm not scared of you, answers Chet—-I'm not scared of you, of any of you-—you can't kill us or stop us, you stupid little chew toys (this makes Sam swallow in both fear and anger)-—aside from which, I'm the least of your concerns, right?—-oh, you haven't watched the news today, have you? 

They turn on the TV and watch themselves (Sam and Dean Winchester, presumed dead), killing a whole slew of people, leaving no survivors. They are now the subject of a manhunt throughout the state of California. “Busy morning, you two?” asks Bobby, turning off the TV. “It's like they Xeroxed us,” says Dean. “But I don't understand how,” says Sam. Bobby suggests one of the Leviathan touched the two of them at the hospital. “It was the hair! Not so hard to lift some DNA out of a motel shower drain, guys!” yells Chet. “You can copy people like that?” asks Dean, disbelieving--”awesome!--what is their plan exactly?” “Squeeze us,” says Sam, “turn us into the most wanted men in America.” “That settles it,” says Dean, “we find these ass monkeys and kill them ourselves.” Bobby reminds them that every form of law enforcement in the country has seen their ugly mugs (Ed. note: hey!) this morning. Exactly, says Dean, so what's the point of trying to hide? Better than sticking your fool neck out, says Bobby, these things are smarter than you. Don't sugar coat it, says Sam. You don't have a clue how to kill them or slow them down and your plan is what? asks Bobby-—go right at them?--genius. They're wearing our faces, Dean reminds him, this is personal. Sam agrees. “If you're gonna be stupid, you may as well be smart about it,” says Bobby, and hands them information about a man named Frank Deveraux—a “jackass and lunatic” they must see. “He owes me one from back in Port Huron.” He hands Dean a slip of paper. “In the meantime, I'll keep workin' on Chatty Cathy here-—see if I can figure out what makes him die.” (LOL!)

They Winchesters drive to a gas station. Dean gets out to pump gas. “The usual?” asks Sam. “Rhymes with sing songs,” says Dean. (Ding Dongs?) Inside, Sam asks for protein bars. The clerk looks at him for a long moment and says they're in the back, give him a second. Sam glances under the counter and sees the guy has been watching the news broadcast featuring him and Dean and that the clerk is on the phone in the back. Sam rushes outside. “I'm sure the cashier just made me—-drive!” he says hurriedly. Dean hangs up the gas nozzle, leaps into the car and puts the pedal to the metal. He hangs a right and tears off. 

Special agents Morris and Valenti (I don't differentiate between these two till the end of the ep, sorry.) show up to investigate the killings at the Manitoc Savings Bank, where the Winchester boys have apparently killed a second group of innocents. The Sheriff asks if this, combined with the gas station, is a “psycho road trip.” “A couple of days ago, they were dead, says one of the agents, “we know what you know.”. “Actual serial killer?” one agent asks the other. “Crime spree means paper work,” the other says, “lots of it—-which you'll be doing-—we gotta go, Winchesters spotted at Gas and Sip.” “That's about a thousand miles from here.” “Must have flown?” “That or Batmobile.”

Sam and Dean pull up in front of the address Bobby gave them, unsure if it's right. It's dark and creepy as hell. (It sure would be nice to pull up in front of a nice house once in a while, right? What ep is that from? "Roadkill.") “Frank, you in there?” asks Sam, knocking. They open the unlocked door. “Frank?” calls Sam again--“anybody here?--anybody here?--anybody home?” A light is flicked on. A man sitting in a chair points a gun at them. “Well, well, spider caught some flies,” he says, grinning with pleasure. Sam and Dean exchange looks of fear.

((Ed. note: My guess is, Bobby did NOT call ahead to this guy. Why? It soon becomes evident. It always makes me laugh how nearly everyone Bobby or John sends Sam and Dean to see greets them with a weapon and seem more than a trifle nuts. I'm just sayin'.  Also, Morris and Valente seemed immediately interchangeable to me. I have no idea why.)  

“Well I'll be darned—Psycho Butch and Sundance,” exults Frank, “you're on CNN right now!” “That's not us!” protests Sam. “No, can't be, wish you had a teleporter,” jokes Frank-—”DO you have a teleporter?” (Ed. note: LMAO! If they HAD, what would crazy old Frank have done, hijacked it?) “No, sir, we don't,” says Sam. Both brothers have their hands raised in deference to the gun and Frank's apparent insanity. “My condolences on the doppelgangers,” says Frank, “who sent ya—NSA?--the Feed?--March of Dimes?”  “Bobby Singer sent us,” says Dean, lips trembling. Frank leaps to his feet, cocking his gun. “Or not,” says Dean quickly, “who?” “He said you could help us,” says Sam, “he said you owe him from Port Huron.” Frank finally drops the gun. “Guy saves your life ONE time and what—you owe him the rest of yours?” “That's usually how it works, yeah,” agrees Dean quickly. Frank raises the gun and points it at him again, then, pissed off at himself, drops it again. We see credit cards being shredded. Sam is watching himself and Dean shooting people on TV. Frank's blathering on about how he knows Bobby's into that “magic hooey” but the government's been cloning people for years, “I guess it was just your turn in the barrel.” “Actually,” begins Sam, but Dean stops him: “He's rollin'.” “Yours is being busy beavers,” says Frank, “you're number 2 on the Most Wanted List, quickest climb up the charts since Donna Summer. “So what do you think we should do?” asks Sam. “Cuba's nice this time of year,” suggests Frank. “We're not hiding,” insists Dean. “Is he always this stupid?” Frank asks Sam. “We gotta stick around and kick a coupla asses,” says Dean, “so we just need you to get us further off the grid, but keep us on the board.” Frank turns on the radio, some sappy elevator music. He says they have to get rid of all their old rock aliases, they're going to be Tom and John Smith from now on; no more plastic, cash only; change their phones on a very frequent, non-scheduled schedule basis;  stay out of view of the two hundred million cameras the government's got scattered around.” “Two hundred million?” repeats Dean. “Big Brother has many eyeballs,” warns Frank—-”you see a place that even LOOKS like it can afford security, you just ease on down the road.” To Sam's horror, he smashes his laptop—-but hands him another one. “Thank you,” says Sam uncertainly. “You owe me five grand, cash,” orders Frank. “WHAT?” asks Sam. “WHAT?” asks Dean. “Unless you want to go comparison shopping at the mall, Sweet Cheeks—-and say hi to the cops for me,” snarks Frank. “Now let's steal you up some new ID,” he says, pushing them against some white sheets hanging against the wall and taking pictures, “Mr. and Mr. Smith.” 

(Ed. note: This scene broke my heart. New aliases, and so bland for our handsome boys! No more rock aliases like we've come to know and love, their computers have been replaced, Tom and John SMITH?, everything that made them our beloved Winchester brothers hiding away was being buried. But the worst was yet to come!)

Bobby shoots bullets into Chet, but the only response he gets is “Whooo! Do it again! Come on, do it again! You're gonna touch me in the morning, then just walk away.” You still talkin'?” asks Bobby, in a very foul mood. “Aren't you sick of this yet?” asks Chet. “You bleed black snot, sure, you bleed, you can die,” insists Bobby. “Sure, sport, whatever you say,” says Chet, “try the acid again, why doncha?--poor sap, you're stumped.” “Give it a rest, mouthy,” advises Bobby. “How long do you think these chains are gonna hold when the spell wears off?” asks Chet-—"tick, tock, old man. I'm gonna really enjoy eating you—-right down to that hat (Ed. note: blasphemy!)—-and then I'm going to eat everyone you ever said hello to.” Deciding he's had enough, Bobby grabs a sword and decapitates Chet. “Hot damn, that's something,” says Bobby, when it appears to at least silence the too-chatty, too-bitchy Leviathan. 

Frank puts all the brothers' new ID's into a cigar box. “I marked all the towns your stunt doubles hit so you can see the pattern,” says Frank. “What is the pattern?” asks Sam. Frank has no clue, he can't see it. It seems random to Sam. “A little tip from a pro—there is no such thing as a random series of  murder-robberies by your evil twins. Have yourself some uppers and look at that some more. Good luck.” “Thanks,” says Sam. “For what?” asks Frank--”sending you to your deaths?--your doubles WANT to be on Candid Camera—-put YOU in the line of fire; now I'd lay low because I love life in its infinite mysteries, but if you want to be dumb, that's fine-—at least have the common sense to ditch your car.” (My heart just stopped! Not Dean's baby!) “Scuse me—-what?” demands Dean. “Your Double Mints—they're using a car just like the one outside,” says Frank. This stuns and pisses off the brothers. (Ed. note: Me, too. Aw shit!)

The newspaper headline in the USA TIMES WEEKLY reads “Killer Duo Still at Large.” Someone knocks at Bobby's door as he's unpacking groceries. He grabs a gun before opening up. Looking out the peephole, he sees his visitor is Sheriff Jody Mills. He puts down the gun and runs a quick hand through his beard to make himself look a bit more presentable before opening up. She's smiling very prettily at him. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asks. “You're all charm, Bobby,” she retorts. (I was thinking something a lot nastier, like what a shithead he is.) “So my therapist keeps tellin' me,” he says, “How'd you find me?” “I'm a cop, remember?” she asks. (You go, girl, get your man!) She holds up a six pack. “Gonna invite me in?” “You may not want me to,” he warns, “I got one of the bigmouths downstairs.” (Ed. note: So that's what they're calling them, huh?) “So I won't go downstairs,” she says simply. She's come to thank him, “considering they were fresh out of thanks for saving me from liver-eating surgeon cards at the store.” “Oh, that,” he says, “just doin' my job--which nobody pays me for.”  “Right,” she nods, “how you doin', Bobby?””I'm fine—every day's a gift,” he says. “Your HOUSE just burned down,” she reminds him. “As you can see,” he says, “I got a roof over me.” “Bobby! Let someone be nice to you for five minutes,” she chastises. (Oh, God, I loved this scene and the soft look in her eyes and obvious feelings for him on her face.) “Okay,” he shrugs, “but not too nice, I can't be goin' soft.” “Of course not,” she agrees, “you know, I can cook—ish.” She slips off her jacket. “Why don't you let me make you something, maybe put this new place of yours in some kind of order--come on, I owe you that much.”  “Okay,” he agrees, “thanks, Sheriff.” “Jody,” she corrects. Ed. note: Squee!)

Bobby returns to the basement, where he finds his prisoner's head  has reattached itself to his body. There's a lot of black goo on his basement floor. “Did you think it would be that easy?” asks Chet. “No, but it's a start,” says Bobby, beheading him again. 

Sam and Dean are driving along in a new car. (I can't discern the make or model, nor did I try too hard. I didn't want to be disloyal to Baby..) A unicorn hangs from the rear-view mirror. It makes the sound of a crying baby when Dean squeezes it, and he angrily cuts it off and tosses it into the backseat. “You OK?” asks Sam. “It's bad enough they're ganking people in our mugs,” grumbles Dean, “but now this? Driving around in this caboodle while Baby's on lock-down!” “It's temporary,” Sam reminds him.” “Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” insists Dean. “You know what that's a line from,” says Sam. “Swayze movie,” says Dean, “Swayze always gets a pass.” “Right,” says Sam, “you want some tunes or something?” Sam turns on the radio which is playing appropriately, “I'm All Outta Love” by Air Supply.” Dean urges him to just leave it, and, moments later, Sam's upset to see his rock-loving brother lip-synching--and crying--to the sappy song! Realizing he's been caught, Dean turns his eyes away. Oh, Baby, your Dean misses you so much! But Dean can't help himself; he sings along again, silently, so sad. Sam finally turns off the song.

(Ed. note: This was very hard to watch. If anything is a touchstone on SUPERNATURAL, for both Sam and Dean--and US, the audience--it's that 1967 Impala. That they would have to give it up for ANY length of time is horrific. I was crying, too, I confess!)

Looking at a map, Sam gets a vivid memory flashback to Jericho and the Woman in White, then Black Water Ridge and the Wendigo, Manitoc and the kid drowning in the lake—-all towns they worked jobs in, in order, from the day Sam left Stanford. The pattern the Leviathans appear to be following would mean their next target would be in St. Louis. “Perfect, Connor's Diner,” crows Dean, “best burgers in St. Louis, I deserve something good in my life right now!”

Sam and Dean's clones (now known as SC and DC) are making fun of their human counterparts as they sit at Connor's Diner. 

DC:  You know, he has one of these every day. In his heart, he thinks they're almost as good as sex. He tosses it down on the plate. THIS is disgusting.
SC:  (Pushing away his salad.)  Dead plants with creamy goo. It's like eating self- righteousness-—you tell me which is worse.
DC: Honestly, I can't stand the guy. Talk about a hero complex. He doesn't have relationships, he has applications for sainthood. Oh, and he thinks he's funny—thinks he's a damn comedian. 
SC: Who has two thumbs and a full blown bats in the belfry?  (Points to himself.) I'm serious. Nothing but Satanvision on the inside. How he's walking around in a jacket with attachable arms. . .beyond me. You know, I had a brother with this many issues once.
DC: Yeah?
SC: You know what I did? I ate him.
DC: Of course you did.
SC: How are these guys even a threat?
DC: Boss says they gotta go, they gotta go. 
SC: Right. Idea. Wanna trade? I'll take Chuckles over Schizo.
DC: Looking himself over. Nah, I like this one's hair better. You can stay in the big one.

(LMAO!)

SC: All right. In that case, let's turn up the heat. The sooner I get out of this into something more stable, the better. 

They take out their guns. Hold it, says SD, turning to a young man seated at a table nearby. “Hey, kid, why don't you fire up the camera on that thing?” The kid scoffs at him. “Point it over here,” orders Dean, pointing the gun at him. The frightened kid lifts up his camera. “Shall we?” says DC. “All right, everybody be cool, this is a robbery!” shouts SC, aiming his gun at the ceiling. “Anybody move and I will execute every last one of you!” yells DC, standing on the counter.  

(Ed note: Are the brothers driving a GREMLIN?) Bobby reports that chopping off the heads slows down the Leviathans pretty good, until they juice back up, anyhow. That's something, I guess, says Sam, assuming we can even get close to them. I don't want you walking right up to them either, says Bobby, I'm still looking for something you can shoot at them. Behind him, Jody prepares a meal. Have a good time, urges Dean, thanking him. “You take mayo, right, Bobby?” asks Jody. Overhearing, Dean asks, “You got a chick over there?” “What? No,” answers Bobby, lying poorly. Exchanging a look with Sam, Dean asks, “Are you even working, Richard Gere?” “Shut up, ya idjit,” says Bobby as the brothers grin at each other--”where you off to next?” Sam tells him St. Louis, but Bobby informs him that they're too late-—pumpkin and honey-bunny'd a diner there. “Connor's Diner?” demands Dean. “Yeah, how'd you know?” asks Bobby. “Lucky guess,” says Dean, pissed off. “All right, so much for that,” says Sam, “I guess we're off to Ankeny Iowa. Call us if you get anything else.”

(Ed. note: If I didn't know the lift expectancy of women characters on this show tends to be very short, I'd root for Jody and Bobby to get together. They're so good as a couple, and she knows about all the evil stuff. They'd make a great team killing off the bad supernatural creatures and cuddling in bed together at night.) 

Agents Morris and Valente enter the blood-spattered crime scene at Connor's Diner. The Sheriff sits there, utterly in shock. He was first on-scene, unfortunately. He shows them the footage from the young man's camera, including SC coming in up close, yelling at him, “Hey hey hey, keep that up! I didn't say you could put that down! I want the whole world to know what Sam and Dean Winchester are capable of! “ He guns down some elderly folks at the next booth. “That all of 'em?” asks DC. “All but one,” replies SC and grins as he guns down the camera-guy, who's begging for his life. The two clones go in for close-ups.  DC salutes and says, “Well, good night St. Louis. You've been a wonderful crowd. Grab your socks and hoes, Iowa, 'cause we're headed to you next.” Sam winks evilly. The two race off to alert federal state and local law enforcement.