01x01 - The Pilot

1.01 Pilot

Air Date: 13 Sep 2005



Lawrence, Kansas

22 years ago

These scenes are definitively dated to 2 Nov 2005.

Crickets chirp. A large deciduous tree with no leaves stands outside one of several suburban homes.


A Woman, Mary Winchester, wearing a white nightgown, carries a SMALL CHILD, her son Dean, into a dark room.

Mary: Come on, let's say good night to your brother.

Mary turns on the lights: it's the nursery of a BABY, Sam, who is lying in his crib and looking over at Mary and Dean. Mary sets Dean down. Dean leans over the side of the crib and kisses Sam on the forehead.

Dean: 'Night, Sam.

Mary leans over Sam as well.

Mary: Good night, love.

Mary brushes Sam's hair back and kisses his forehead.

Man: Hey, Dean.

Dean turns. The Man in the doorway wearing a USMC T-shirt is John. Dean rushes over to him.

Dean: Daddy!

John: Hey, buddy.

John scoops Dean up.

John: So what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet?

Dean shakes his head, laughing.

Dean: No, Daddy.

John laughs.

John: No.

Mary passes John and Dean on the way out of the room.

Mary: You got him?

John: I got him.

John hugs Dean closer.

John: Sweet dreams, Sam.

John carries Dean out of the room, flipping off the lights. Sam watches them go, gurgling, then tries to reach his toes.

The baseball-themed mobile above Sam's crib begins to spin on its own while Sam watches. The transportation-themed clock on the wall ticks, ticks, stops. The moon-shaped nightlight flickers.


Lights flicker on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises come through the monitor. Mary, asleep in bed, stirs. She turns on the light on the nightstand.

Mary: John?

Mary turns: she's alone. She gets up.


Mary walks down the hall to Sam's nursery. John, seen only in silhouette, stands over Sam's crib.

Mary: John? Is he hungry?

John turns his head.

Man: Shhh.

Mary: All right.

Mary heads back down the hallway. The light by the stairs is flickering. Mary frowns and goes to tap at it till the light steadies.

Mary: Hm.

More flickering light is coming from downstairs: Mary investigates. A war movie is on TV and John has fallen asleep watching it. If John is here, Mary realizes, then the Man upstairs cannot be John and must be a danger. She runs back upstairs.

Mary: Sammy! Sammy!

Mary enters Sam's nursery and stops short.


Upstairs, Mary screams. John wakes up.

John: Mary?

John scrambles out of the chair.

John: Mary!

John runs upstairs.


John bursts through the closed door of the nursery.

John: Mary.

The room is quiet and appears empty except for Sam awake in his crib and John. John glances around and pushes down the side of Sam's crib.

John: Hey, Sammy. You okay?

Something dark drips next to Sam. John touches it. Two more drops land on the back of John's hand. It looks like blood. John looks up. Mary is sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood, staring at John and struggling to breathe. John collapses onto the floor, staring at Mary.

John: No! Mary!

Mary bursts into flame. The fire spreads over the ceiling. John stares, frozen. Sam wails. John, reminded he's not alone, gets up and scoops Sam out of his crib and rushes out of the room.


Dean is awake and coming to investigate.

Dean: Daddy!

John shoves Sam at Dean.

John: Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!

Dean turns and runs. John turns back to the nursery.

John: Mary!

The entire room is on fire. Mary herself can barely be seen.

John: No!


Dean runs outside, holding Sam.

Dean: It's okay, Sammy.

Dean turns to look up at Sam's window, which is lit with gold.

John runs outside, scoops up Dean and Sam, and carries them both away.

John: I gotcha.

Fire explodes out of Sam's nursery window.


The Lawrence fire department has arrived. A FIREFIGHTER gets out of a fire truck and takes over at the gauges for another firefighter.

Firefighter: I got it. You go hold the line up.

The second firefighter goes to the back of the truck and takes a hose from a third firefighter. That firefighter takes the hose towards the house where a fourth firefighter is spraying through Sam's nursery window. A paramedic opens the back of an ambulance. A Police Officer waves some neighbors back.

Officer: Stay back. You have to stay back.

Across the street from the house, John and Dean sit on the hood of John's Impala, John holding Sam. John looks up at the remnants of the fire.


Stanford University

Present Day

It is 31 Oct 2005.

"Gasoline" by Ginger begins to play.



Young Woman: Sam!

The Young Woman, Jess, comes around a corner; she is wearing a sexy-nurse costume and adjusting her hat. The photo of Mary and John from earlier is on the dresser.

Jess: Get a move on, would you?

Music: I've been shot from a cannon

Jess: We were supposed to be there like fifteen minutes ago.

Jess walks off.

Jess: Sam!

Music: I'm a human cannonball

Jess: You coming or what?



A Young Man pokes his head around the corner; this is Sam. He's wearing jeans and three shirts, not a costume.

Sam: Do I have to?

Jess: Yes!

Music: I'm gonna fly high

Jess: It'll be fun.

Sam comes into the room.

Jess: And where's your costume?

Music: I'm gonna fall fall fall

Sam laughs and ducks his head.


Sam: You know how I feel about Halloween.



Classic's "What Cha Gonna Do" begins to play.

Music: Show me whatcha gonna do

Yeah whatcha gonna do

Are you trying to get in

Yeah whatcha gonna do

The bar is decorated for Halloween (including a gargoyle with cobwebs and a baseball hat that says "GET NAKED"). Someone pours someone else a shot. Everyone is in costume.

Guest Starring


Music: Are you gonna ride

Jess raises a glass as a Young Man in a ghoul costume, Luis, comes up to the table where Sam and Jess are. Sam is still not in costume.

Jess: So here's to Sam-

Music: Baby


Jess: -and his awesome LSAT victory.

Sam: All right, all right, it's not that big a deal.

Jess, Sam, and Luis clink glasses.

Jess: Yeah, he acts all humble.


Jess: But he scored a one seventy-four.

Luis drinks his shot and so does Sam.

Luis: Is that good?


Jess: Scary good.

Jess drinks.

Luis: So there you go. You are a first-round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want!

Luis sits next to Sam.


Sam: Actually, I got an interview here. Monday. If it goes okay I think I got a shot at a full ride next year.

Jess: Hey. It's gonna go great.

Sam: It better.


Luis: How does it feel to be the golden boy of your family?

Sam: Ah, they don't know.

Luis: Oh, no, I would be gloating! Why not?

Sam: Because we're not exactly the Bradys.

Luis: And I'm not exactly the Huxtables. More shots?

Jess and Sam speak in chorus.

Jess and Sam: No. No.

Sam: No.

Luis goes up to the bar anyway.

Jess: No, seriously. I'm proud of you. And you're gonna knock 'em dead on Monday-



Jess: -and you're gonna get that full ride. I know it.

Sam: What would I do without you?

Jess: Crash and burn.

Jess smiles and pulls Sam in for a kiss.

Music: Are you trying to get in

Yeah whatcha gonna do



Music: Are you gonna ride baby

Supervising Producer


Sam and Jess lie in bed, asleep back to back. Jess shifts position.

Executive Producer


A sound outside the room, like a window opening. Sam opens his eyes.


Sam leaves the bedroom and looks around the apartment.

Executive Producer


A window is open; earlier it must have been closed. Footsteps. A Man walks past the strings of beads at the far end of the hall. Sam moves to another part of the apartment and waits. The Man enters the room. Sam lunges forward and grabs the Man at the shoulder. The Man knocks Sam's arm away and aims a strike at Sam, who ducks. The Man grabs Sam's arm, swings him around, and shoves him back. Sam kicks and is blocked, then pushed back into another room. If the Man hadn't seen Sam's face before, he sees it now; Sam gets his first glimpse of the Man. The Man elbows Sam in the face; Sam kicks at his head. The Man ducks and swings and Sam blocks. The Man knocks Sam down and pins him to the floor, one hand at Sam's neck and the other holding Sam's wrist.

Man: Whoa, easy, tiger.

Sam breathes hard.

Sam: Dean?

Dean laughs.

Sam: You scared the crap out of me!

Dean: That's 'cause you're out of practice.

Sam grabs Dean's hand and yanks, slamming his heel into Dean's back and Dean to the floor.

Dean: Or not.

Sam taps Dean twice where Sam is holding him.

Dean: Get off of me.

Sam rolls to his feet and pulls Dean up.

Sam: What the hell are you doing here?

Dean: Well, I was looking for a beer.

Produced by


Dean puts his hands on Sam's shoulders, shakes once, and lets go.

Sam: What the hell are you doing here?

Dean: Okay. All right. We gotta talk.

Created by


Sam: Uh, the phone?

Dean: If I'd'a called, would you have picked up?

Jess turns the light on. She is wearing very short shorts and a cropped Smurfs shirt.

Jess: Sam?

Sam and Dean turn their heads in unison.

Sam: Jess. Hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Jessica.

Dean looks at her appreciatively.

Jess: Wait, your brother Dean?

Jess smiles. Sam nods. Dean grins at her and moves closer.

Dean: Oh, I love the Smurfs. You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league.

Jess: Just let me put something on.

Jess turns to go. Dean's voice stops her.

Written by


Dean: No, no, no, I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously.

Dean goes back over to Sam without taking his eyes off Jess. Sam watches him, his expression stony.

Dean: Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business.

Directed by


Dean: But, uh, nice meeting you.

Sam: No.

Sam goes over to Jess and puts an arm around her.

Sam: No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her.

Dean: Okay.

Dean turns to look at them both straight on.

Dean: Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days.

Sam: So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later.

Dean ducks his head and looks back up.

Dean: Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days.

Sam's expression doesn't change while he takes this in. Jess glances up at him.




Sam and Dean head downstairs. Sam has put on jeans and a hoodie.

Sam: I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you.

Dean: You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him.

Sam: You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine.

Dean stops and turns around. Sam stops too.

Dean: Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with me or not?

Sam: I'm not.

Dean: Why not?

Sam: I swore I was done hunting. For good.

Dean: Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad.

Dean starts downstairs again. Sam follows.


Dean stops at the door to the outside.

Dean: Well, what was he supposed to do?



Sam: Yeah, I know, but still. The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her.

Dean glances outside.

Sam: But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can[i]find.

Dean: We save a lot of people doing it, too.

A pause.

Sam: You think Mom would have wanted this for us?

Dean rolls his eyes and slams the door open.


There's a short flight of stairs from the door to the parking lot. Dean and Sam climb it.

Sam: The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors.

They cross the parking lot to the Impala from the prologue.

Dean: So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?

Sam: No. Not normal. Safe.

Dean: And that's why you ran away.

Dean looks away.

Sam: I was just going to college. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing.

Dean: Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it.

Sam is silent.

Dean: I can't do this alone.

Sam: Yes you can.

Dean looks down.

Dean: Yeah, well, I don't want to.

Sam sighs and looks down, thinking, then up.

Sam: What was he hunting?

Dean opens the trunk of the Impala, then the spare-tire compartment. It's an arsenal. He props the compartment open with a shotgun and digs through the clutter.

Dean: All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?

Sam: So when Dad left, why didn't you go with him?

Dean: I was working my own gig. This, uh, voodoo thing, down in New Orleans.


Dean looks over at Sam.

Dean: I'm twenty-six, dude.

Dean pulls some papers out of a folder.

Dean: All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy.

Dean hands one of the papers to Sam.

Dean: They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA.

The paper is a printout of an article from the Jericho Herald[i], headlined "Centennial Highway Disappearance" and dated Sept. 19th 2005; it has a man's picture, captioned "Andrew Carey MISSING". Sam reads it and glances up.

Sam: So maybe he was kidnapped.

Dean: Yeah. Well, here's another one in April.

Dean tosses down another [i]Jericho Herald[i]article for each date he mentions.

Dean: Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years.

Dean takes the article back from Sam and picks up the rest of the stack, putting them back in the folder.

Dean: All men, all the Same five-mile stretch of road.

Dean pulls a bag out of another part of the arsenal.

Dean: It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough.

Dean grabs a handheld tape recorder.

Dean: Then I get this voicemail yesterday.

He presses play. The recording is staticky and the signal was clearly breaking up.

John: Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

Dean presses stop.

Sam: You know there's EVP on that?

Dean: Not bad, Sammy. Kinda like riding a bike, isn't it?

Sam shakes his head.

Dean: All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got.

He presses play again.

Woman: I can never go home...

Dean presses stop.

Sam: Never go home.

Dean drops the recorder, puts down the shotgun, stands straight, and shuts the trunk, then leans on it.

Dean: You know, in almost two years I've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.

Sam looks away and sighs, then looks back.

Sam: All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him.

Dean nods.

Sam: But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here.

Sam turns to go back to the apartment. He turns back when Dean speaks.

Dean: What's first thing Monday?

Sam: I have this...I have an interview.

Dean: What, a job interview? Skip it.

Sam: It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate.

Dean: Law school?

Dean smirks.

Sam: So we got a deal or not?

Dean says nothing.



Sam is packing a duffel bag. He pulls out a large hook-shaped knife and slides it inside. Jess comes into the room.

Jess: Wait, you're taking off?

Sam looks up.

Sam: Is this about your dad? Is he all right?

Sam: Yeah. You know, just a little family drama.

Sam goes over to the dresser and turns on the lamp atop it.

Jess: Your brother said he was on some kind of hunting trip.

Jess sits on the bed. Sam rummages in one of the drawers and comes out with a couple shirts, which go in the duffel.

Sam: Oh, yeah, he's just deer hunting up at the cabin, he's probably got Jim, Jack, and José along with him. I'm just going to go bring him back.

Jess: What about the interview?

Sam: I'll make the interview. This is only for a couple days.

Sam goes around the bed. Jess gets up and follows.

Jess: Sam, I mean, please.

Sam stops and turns.

Jess: Just stop for a second. You sure you're okay?

Sam laughs a little.

Sam: I'm fine.

Jess: It's just...you won't even talk about your family. And now you're taking off in the middle of the night to spend a weekend with them? And with Monday coming up, which is kind of a huge deal.

Sam: Hey. Everything's going to be okay. I will be back in time, I promise.

He kisses her on the cheek and leaves.

Jess: At least tell me where you're going.



Jericho, California

The Eagles of Death Metal's "Speaking in Tongues" plays. A Young Man, Troy, is driving down the highway, talking on his cell phone.

Troy: Amy, I can't come over tonight. Because I've got work in the morning, that's why. ...Yeah, okay, I miss it and my dad's gonna have my ass.

A high-pitched whine. Troy looks over and sees a Woman in a white dress on the side of the road. She's moving as though dancing; she flickers, and for a moment she's gone.

Troy: Hey, ah, Amy, let me call you back?

Music: I got this feeling and it's deep in my bah-tay

It gives me wiggles and it makes my rump shake

I said ho!

Troy tries several times to turn off the radio, which is flickering. Nothing happens.

Music: If I should touch you

Might be electrocuted

I said ho!

Deep in your body

Troy pulls up next to the Woman, whose dress is torn in several places, and stops, leaning across the shotgun seat.

Troy: Car trouble or something?

A long pause.

Woman: Take me home?

The voice is the Same one from the altered voicemail. Troy opens the passenger door.

Troy: Sure, get in.

The Woman, who is barefoot, climbs in and closes the door.

Troy: So, where do you live?

Woman: At the end of Breckenridge Road.

Troy nods.

Troy: You coming from a Halloween party or something?

The Woman's dress is very low-cut. Troy notices, stares, and looks away, laughing nervously.

Troy: You know, a girl like you really shouldn't be alone out here.

She looks at him mournfully, seductively, and pulls her skirt up over her thigh.

Woman: I'm with you.

Troy looks away. The Woman takes Troy's chin and turns his face towards her.

Woman: Do you think I'm pretty?

Troy nods, eyes stuck on her cleavage.

Troy: Uh...huh.

Woman: Will you come home with me?

Troy: Um. Hell yeah.

He drives off.


They pull up to an old abandoned house at the end of a road. The Woman stares at it sadly.

Troy: Come on. You don't live here.

Woman: I can never go home.


He turns, and she's gone. He checks the back seat, also empty, and gets out of the car, nervous.

Troy: That's good. Joke's over, okay? You want me to leave?

Troy looks around: no signs of life except crickets. He walks towards the house.

Troy: Hello? Hello?

There's a picture of the Woman and two CHILDREN inside the house; the picture is covered in dust.

Troy peers through the hole in the screen door. A bird flies at his face, scaring him into falling over. He yells, leaps to his feet, and runs back to the car. He gets in and drives off.


Troy looks behind him-no one's there-then in the rearview mirror. The Woman is in the back seat. Troy yells again and drives straight through a "Bridge Closed" sign, stopping about halfway across the bridge. He screams. Blood spatters the windows.




It is 1 Nov 2005.

The Impala is parked in front of a pump. "Ramblin' Man" by the Allman Brothers plays.

Music: Lord, I was born a ramblin' man

Dean comes out of the convenience mart carrying junk food.

Music: Tryin' to make a livin' and doin' the best I can

Sam is sitting in the shotgun seat with the door open, rifling through a box of tapes.

Dean: Hey!

Sam leans out and looks at him.

Dean: You want breakfast?

Sam: No, thanks.

Music: And when it's time for leavin'

Sam: So how'd you pay for that stuff?

Music: I hope you'll understand

Sam: You and Dad still running credit card scams?

Music: That I was born a ramblin' man

Dean: Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career.

Dean puts the nozzle back on the pump.

Dean: Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards.

Sam: Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?

Sam swings his legs back inside the car and closes the door.

Dean: Uh, Burt Aframian.

Dean gets into the driver seat and puts his soda and chips down.

Dean: And his son Hector. Scored two cards out of the deal.

Dean closes the door.

Sam: That sounds about right. I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection.

There are at least a dozen cassettes in the box on Sam's lap; some have album art, others are hand-labeled.

Dean: Why?

Sam: Well, for one, they're cassette tapes. And two.

Sam holds up a tape for every band he names.

Sam: Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?

Dean takes the box labeled Metallica from Sam.

Sam: It's the greatest hits of mullet rock.

Dean: Well, house rules, Sammy.

Dean pops the tape in the player.

Dean: Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

Dean drops the Metallica box back in the box of tapes and starts the engine.

Sam: You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old.

AC/DC's "Back in Black" begins to play.

Sam: It's Sam, okay?

Dean: Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud.

Dean drives off.



Music: Back in black

I hit the sack

I've been too long

I'm glad to be back

Yes I'm let loose

They drive past a sign that says "JERICHO 7".

Music: From the noose

That's kept me hanging about

Sam is talking on his cell phone.

Sam: Thank you.

Sam closes his phone.

Music: Lookin' at the sky

'Cause it's gettin' me high

Sam: All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue.

Music: Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die

Sam: So that's something, I guess.

Dean glances over at Sam, then back at the road. At a bridge ahead of them, there are two police cars and several officers.

Music: I got nine lives

Cat's eyes

Abusin' every one of them and running wild

Dean: Check it out.

Sam leans forward for a closer look.

Music: 'Cause I'm back

Yes I'm back

Dean pulls over. They take a long look before Dean turns off the engine. Kid Gloves Music's "My Cheatin' Ways" begins to play. Dean opens the glove compartment and pulls out a box full of ID cards with his and John's faces: visible ones include FBI and DEA. He picks one out and grins at Sam, who stares.

Dean: Let's go.

Dean gets out of the car.

On the bridge, the lead Deputy, Deputy Jaffe, leans over the railing to yell down to two MEN in wetsuits who were poking around the river.

Jaffe: You guys find anything?

Man: No! Nothing!

Jaffe turns back to the car in the middle of the bridge. It's familiar: it's Troy's, the blood gone. Another Deputy, Deputy Hein, is at the driver's side looking around inside the car.

Hein: No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean.

Dean and Sam walk into the crime scene like they belong there.

Jaffe: So, this kid Troy. He's dating your daughter, isn't he?

Hein: Yeah.

Jaffe: How's Amy doing?

Hein: She's putting up missing posters downtown.

Dean: You fellas had another one like this just last month, didn't you?

Jaffe looks up when Dean starts talking and straightens up to talk to him.

Jaffe: And who are you?

Dean flashes his badge.

Dean: Federal marshals.

Jaffe: You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?

Dean laughs.

Dean: Thanks, that's awfully kind of you.

Dean goes over to the car.

Dean: You did have another one just like this, correct?

Jaffe: Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.

Sam: So, this victim, you knew him?

Jaffe nods.

Jaffe: Town like this, everybody knows everybody.

Dean circles the car, looking around.

Dean: Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?

Jaffe: No. Not so far as we can tell.

Sam: So what's the theory?

Sam goes over to Dean.

Jaffe: Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?

Dean: Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys.

Sam stomps on Dean's foot.

Sam: Thank you for your time.

Sam starts to walk away. Dean follows.

Sam: Gentlemen.

Jaffe watches them go. Dean smacks Sam on the head.

Sam: Ow! What was that for?

Dean: Why'd you have to step on my foot?

Sam: Why do you have to talk to the police like that?

Dean looks at Sam and moves in front of him, forcing Sam to stop walking.

Dean: Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves.

Sam clears his throat and looks over Dean's shoulder. Dean turns. It's Sheriff PIERCE and two FBI AGENTS.

Sheriff: Can I help you boys?

Dean: No, sir, we were just leaving.

As the FBI AGENTS walk past Dean, he nods at each of them.

Dean: Agent Mulder. Agent Scully.

Dean and Sam head past the Sheriff, who turns to watch them go.



The marquee on the Highland Movie Theater reads: EMERGENCY TOWN HALL MEETING



A Young Woman is tacking up posters with Troy's face and the caption "MISSING Troy SQUIRE". Dean and Sam approach.

Dean: I'll bet you that's her.

Sam: Yeah.

Dean and Sam walk up to the Young Woman.

Dean: You must be Amy.

Amy: Yeah.

Dean: Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles. I'm Dean, this is Sammy.

Amy: He never mentioned you to me.

Amy walks away. Dean and Sam walk with her.

Dean: Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto.

Sam: So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around.

Another Young Woman, Rachel, comes up to Amy and puts a hand on her arm.

Rachel: Hey, are you okay?

Amy: Yeah.

Sam: You mind if we ask you a couple questions?

Another poster that says MISSING Troy SQUIRE flaps in the breeze.


The four of them are sitting in a booth, Dean and Sam opposite Amy and Rachel.

Amy: I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did.

Sam: He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?

Amy shakes her head.

Amy: No. Nothing I can remember.

Sam: I like your necklace.

Amy holds the pendant she's wearing, a pentagram in a circle, and looks down at it.

Amy: Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents-

Amy laughs.

Amy: -with all that devil stuff.

Sam laughs a little and looks down, then up. Dean looks over.

Sam: Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.

Dean: Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries.

Dean takes his arm off the back of Sam's seat and leans forward.

Dean: Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything...

Amy and Rachel look at each other.

Dean: What is it?

Rachel: Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk.

Dean and Sam speak in chorus.

Dean and Sam: What do they talk about?

Rachel: It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago.

Dean looks at Sam, who watches Rachel attentively, nodding.

Rachel: Well, supposedly she's still out there.

Sam nods.

Rachel: She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.

Sam and Dean look at each other.



A web browser is open to the archive search page for the Jericho Herald[i]. The words "Female Murder Hitchhiking" are typed into the search box. Dean clicks GO; the screen tells him there are "(0) Result". Dean replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" with the Same response. Sam is sitting next to him, watching.

Sam: Let me try.

Dean smacks Sam's hand.

Dean: I got it.

Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over.

Dean: Dude!

Dean hits Sam in the shoulder.

Dean: You're such a control freak.


Dean: Yeah.

Sam: Well, maybe it's not murder.

Sam replaces "Murder" with "Suicide" and finds an article entitled "Suicide on Centennial". Dean glances at Sam. Sam opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

  • A local woman's drowning death was ruled a suicide, the county Sheriff's Department said earlier today. Constance Welch, 24, of 4636 Breckenridge Road, leapt off Sylvania Bridge, at mile 33 of Centennial Highway, and subsequently drowned last night.
  • Deputy J. Pierce told reporters that, hours before her death, Ms. Welch logged a call with 911 emergency services. In a panicked tone, Ms. Welch described how she found her two young children, 5 and 6, in the bathtub, after leaving them alone for several [minutes]. She reported that their complex-[...]
  • What happened to my children was a terrible accident. And it must have been too much for my wife. Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it," said husband Joseph Welch. "Now I ask that you all please respect my privacy during this trying time."
  • At the time of the children's death and Ms. Welch's subsequent suicide, Mr. Welch was at the Frontier auto salvage yard, where he works the graveyard shift as associate manager.
  • "Connie might have been quiet, but she was the sweetest, most caring girl I ever knew," said Deanna Kripke, a neighbor. "She just doted on those children."

Sam: This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river.

There's a picture of Constance; it's the Woman who killed Troy.

Dean: Does it say why she did it?

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: What?

Sam: An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die.

Dean raises his eyebrows.

Dean: Hm.

The article has a picture of Joseph next to a picture of Sylvania Bridge; it's the place Troy died.

Sam: "'Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch."

Dean: The bridge look familiar to you?



Dean and Sam walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river.

Dean: So this is where Constance took the swan dive.

Sam: So you think Dad would have been here?

Sam looks over at Dean.

Dean: Well, he's chasing the Same story and we're chasing him.

Dean continues walking. Sam follows.

Sam: Okay, so now what?

Dean: Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while.

Sam stops.

Sam: Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday-

Dean turns around.

Dean: Monday. Right. The interview.

Sam: Yeah.

Dean: Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some Lawyer? Marry your girl?

Sam: Maybe. Why not?


Sam steps closer.

Sam: No, and she's not ever going to know.

Dean: Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.

Dean turns around and keeps walking. Sam follows.

Sam: And who's that?

Dean: You're one of us.

Sam hurries to get in front of Dean.

Sam: No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.

Dean: You have a responsibility to-

Sam: To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.

Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge. A long pause.

Dean: Don't talk about her like that.

Dean releases Sam and walks away. He sees Constance standing at the edge of the bridge.

Dean: Sam.

Sam comes to stand next to Dean. Constance looks over at them, then steps forward off the edge. Sam and Dean run to the railing and look over.

Dean: Where'd she go?

Sam: I don't know.

Behind them, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. Dean and Sam turn to look.

Dean: What the-

Sam: Who's driving your car?

Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. Sam glances at them. The car jerks into motion, heading straight for them. They turn and run.

Sam: Dean? Go! Go!

The car is moving faster than they are; when it gets too close, Sam and Dean dive over the railing. The car comes to a halt.




Establishing shot of the bridge.

Sam has caught himself on the edge of the bridge and is hanging on. He pulls himself up onto the bridge and looks around.

Sam: Dean? Dean!

Below, a filthy and annoyed Dean crawls out of the water and onto the mud, panting.

Dean: What?

Sam: Hey! Are you all right?

Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign.

Dean: I'm super.

Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.


Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it.

Sam: Your car all right?

Dean: Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch[i]!

Sam: Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?

Sam settles on the hood next to Dean. Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands. Sam sniffs, then looks at Dean.

Sam: You smell like a toilet.

Dean looks down.



It is 2 Nov 2005.

A VersaBank MasterCard in the name of Hector Aframian lands on a handwritten guest ledger.

Dean: One room, please.

Dean is standing at the motel check-in desk, still filthy, with Sam right behind him. The CLERK picks up the card and looks at it.

Clerk: You guys having a reunion or something?

Sam: What do you mean?

Clerk: I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month.

Dean looks back at Sam.

John's ROOM


The motel door swings open. Sam is on the other side, having just picked the lock. Sam hides the picks and stands up. Dean is just outside, playing lookout, until Sam reaches out of the room to grab his shoulder and yank him inside. Sam closes the door behind them. They look around-every vertical surface has papers pinned to it: maps, newspaper clippings, pictures, notes. There are books on the desk and assorted junk on the floor and bed, including something with a hazardous-materials symbol.

Sam: Whoa.

Dean turns on a light by the bed and picks up a half-eaten hamburger sitting there. Sam steps over a line of salt on the floor. Dean sniffs the burger and recoils.

Dean: I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least.

Sam fingers the salt on the floor and looks up.

Sam: Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in.

Dean looks at the papers covering one wall.

Sam: What have you got here?

Dean: Centennial Highway victims.

Sam nods. The victims seen on the wall include Mark somebody, William Durrell, Scott Nifong who disappeared in 1987 at age 25, and somebody Parks. Mark, Durrell, and Nifong are all white males, judging by the photos.

Dean: I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs-

Sam crosses the room.

Dean: -ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?

While Dean talks, Sam looks at the papers taped to the other walls. There's something about the Bell Witch, two people being burned alive, a skeletal person blowing a horn at several scared people with the note "MORTIS DANSE", a column about "Devils + Demons", another about "Sirens, Witches, the possessed", a wooden pentacle, and a note that says "Woman in White" above a printout of the Jericho Herald[i]article on Constance's suicide.

Sam turns on another lamp.

Sam: Dad figured it out.

Dean turns to look.

Dean: What do you mean?

Sam: He found the Same article we did. Constance Welch. She's a woman in white.

Dean looks at the photos of Constance's victims.

Dean: You sly dogs.

Dean turns back to Sam.

Dean: All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and desTroyed it.

Sam: She might have another weakness.

Dean: Well, Dad would want to make sure.

Dean crosses to Sam.

Dean: He'd dig her up. Does it say where she's buried?

Sam: No, not that I can tell. If I were Dad, though, I'd go ask her husband.

Sam taps the picture of Joseph WELCH. The caption says he's thirty; the article dates to 1981, so he must be sixty-four.

Sam: If he's still alive.

Sam goes to look at something else. Dean looks at the picture below the [i]Herald[i]article, of a woman in a white dress.

Dean: All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up.

Dean starts to walk away. Sam turns.

Sam: Hey, Dean?

Dean stops and turns back.

Sam: What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry.

Dean holds up a hand.

Dean: No chick-flick moments.

Sam laughs and nods.

Sam: All right. Jerk.

Dean: Bitch.

Sam laughs again. Dean disappears, presumably into the bathroom. Sam notices something, his smile disappearing, and crosses over for a closer look. A rosary hangs in front of a large mirror, and stuck into the mirror frame is a photo of John sitting on the hood of the Impala, next to a Boy in a baseball cap who is presumably Dean and with a YOUNGER Boy, presumably Sam, on John's lap. Sam takes the photo off the mirror and holds it, smiling sadly.



Sam paces, holding his phone, and sits down on the bed. A voicemail message is playing.

Jess: Hey, it's me, it's about ten-twenty Saturday night-

Dean, clean again, comes out of the bathroom and grabs his jacket. He shrugs it on one shoulder as he crosses the room.

Dean: Hey, man. I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?

Sam: No.

Dean: Aframian's buying.

Sam shakes his head.

Sam: Mm-mm.


Dean leaves the motel room. He gets the jacket the rest of the way on as he crosses the lot. He looks over and sees a police car, where the MOTEL CLERK is talking to Deputy Jaffe and Deputy Hein. The CLERK points at Dean, who turns away and pulls out his cell phone.

INT. MOTEL ROOM - DAY[i]and [i]EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY[i], alternating

Sam is sitting on the bed, still listening to the message.


The phone beeps. Sam looks at it and presses a button, then puts it back to his ear.

Sam: What?

Outside, the DEPUTIES are approaching Dean.

Dean: Dude, five-oh, take off.

Sam stands up.

Sam: What about you?

Dean: Uh, they kinda spotted me. Go find Dad.

Dean hangs up the phone as the DEPUTIES approach. He turns and grins at them.

Dean: Problem, officers?

Jaffe: Where's your partner?

Dean: Partner? What, what partner?

Jaffe glances over his shoulder and jerks his thumb towards the motel room. Hein heads over there. Dean fidgets.

Sam sees Hein approaching and darts away from the window.

Jaffe: So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?

Dean: My boobs.

Dean grins.

Hein slams Dean over the hood of the cop car.

Jaffe: You have the right to remain silent-


Sheriff's OFFICE

[i]INT. Sheriff's OFFICE - DAY

Sheriff PIERCE enters the room, carrying a box. He sets the box on the table at which Dean sits and goes around the table to face Dean across it.

Sheriff: So you want to give us your real name?

Dean: I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent.

Sheriff: I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here.

Dean: We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?

Sheriff: You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall.

Dean looks away.

Dean: Along with a whole lot of Satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.

Dean: That makes sense. Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three.

Sheriff: I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean.

The Sheriff tosses a brown leather-covered journal on the table.

Sheriff: This his?

Dean stares at it. The Sheriff sits on the edge of the table. He flips through the journal: it's filled with newspaper clippings, notes, and pictures, just like what's on the walls of John's motel room.

Sheriff: I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out-I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy.

Dean leans forward for a closer look.

Sheriff: But I found this, too.

He opens the journal to a page that reads "Dean 35-111", circled, with nothing else on that page.

Sheriff: Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means.

Dean stares down at the page, then looks up.



Sam, seen through the chain-link covering a grimy glass window, knocks on the door the window is in. An Old Man opens it: it's recognizably Joseph WELCH.

Sam: Hi. Are you Joseph Welch?

Joseph: Yeah.


Sam and Joseph are walking down the junk-filled driveway, Joseph holding the photo Sam found on John's motel room mirror.

Joseph: Yeah, he was older, but that's him.

Joseph hands the photo back to Sam.

Joseph: He came by three or four days ago. Said he was a reporter.

Sam: That's right. We're working on a story together.

Joseph: Well, I don't know what the hell kinda story you're working on. The questions he asked me?

Sam: About your wife Constance?

Joseph: He asked me where she was buried.

Sam: And where is that again?

Joseph: What, I gotta go through this twice?

Sam: It's fact-checking. If you don't mind.

Joseph: In a plot. Behind my old place over on Breckenridge.

Sam: And why did you move?

Joseph: I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died.

Sam stops walking. Joseph stops too.

Sam: Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?


Sam: So you had a happy marriage?

Joseph hesitates.

Joseph: Definitely.

Sam: Well, that should do it. Thanks for your time.

Sam turns toward the Impala. Joseph walks away. Sam waits a moment, then looks back up at Joseph.

Sam: Mr. Welch, did you ever hear of a woman in white?

Joseph turns around.

Joseph: A what?

Sam: A woman in white. Or sometimes weeping woman?

Joseph just looks.

Sam: It's a ghost story. Well, it's more of a phenomenon, really.

Sam starts back toward Joseph.

Sam: Um, they're spirits. They've been sighted for hundreds of years, dozens of places, in Hawaii, Mexico, lately Arizona, Indiana. All these are different women.

Sam stops in front of Joseph.

Sam: You understand. But all share the Same story.

Joseph: Boy, I don't care much for nonsense.

Joseph walks away. Sam follows.

Sam: See, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them.

Joseph stops.

Sam: And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children.

Joseph turns around.

Sam: Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed, walking back roads, waterways. And if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him. And that man is never seen again.

Joseph: You think...you think that has something to do with...Constance? You smartass!

Sam: You tell me.

Joseph: I mean, maybe...maybe I made some mistakes. But no matter what I did, Constance, she never would have killed her own children. Now, you get the hell out of here! And you don't come back!

Joseph's face shakes, whether from anger or grief it's impossible to tell. After a long moment, he turns away. Sam sighs.

Sheriff's OFFICE


Dean: I don't know how many times I gotta tell you. It's my high school locker combo.

Sheriff PIERCE is still interrogating Dean over the "Dean 35-111" page.

Sheriff: We gonna do this all night long?

A Deputy leans into the room.

Deputy: We just got a 911, shots fired over at Whiteford Road.

Sheriff: You have to go to the bathroom?

Dean: No.

Sheriff: Good.

The Sheriff handcuffs Dean to the table and leaves. Dean sees a paper clip poking out of the journal, pulls it out, and looks at it. Moments later, as the Sheriff and Deputy are gearing up to leave, he is out of the cuffs. Dean watches through the window in the door, ducks out of sight as the Deputy approaches the door, and waits.


Dean climbs down the fire escape, carrying John's journal.


EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT[i]and [i]EXT. STREET - NIGHT[i], alternating

Sam is driving the Impala when his phone rings. He pulls it out and answers it. Dean is in a phone booth; apparently his phone was confiscated and he didn't take the time to steal it back.

Dean: Fake 911 phone call? Sammy, I don't know, that's pretty illegal.

Sam: You're welcome.

Sam grins.

Dean: Listen, we gotta talk.

Sam: Tell me about it. So the husband [i]was[i]unfaithful. We [i]are[i]dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop.

Dean: Sammy, would you shut up for a second?

Sam: I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't desTroyed the corpse yet.

Dean: Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. He's gone. Dad left Jericho.

Sam: What? How do you know?

Dean: I've got his journal.

Sam: He doesn't go anywhere without that thing.

Dean: Yeah, well, he did this time.

Sam: What's it say?

Dean: Ah, the Same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going.

Sam: Coordinates. Where to?

Dean: I'm not sure yet.

Sam: I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?

Sam looks up and slams the brake, dropping the phone: Constance appeared on the road in front of him. The car goes right through her as Sam brings it to a halt.

Dean: Sam? Sam!

Inside the car, Sam breathes hard. Constance is sitting in the back seat.

Constance: Take me home.




Constance: Take me home!

Sam: No.

Constance glares and the doors lock themselves. Sam struggles to reopen them. The gas pedal presses down and the car begins to drive itself. Sam tries to steer, but Constance is doing that too. Sam continues to try to get the door open. In the back seat, Constance flickers.



The car pulls up in front of Constance's house and stops. The engine shuts off and so do the lights.

Sam: Don't do this.

Constance flickers. Her voice is sad.

Constance: I can never go home.

Sam: You're scared to go home.

Sam looks back and Constance isn't there. He glances around and back and sees her in the shotgun seat. She climbs into his lap, shoving him back against the seat hard enough to recline the seat. Sam struggles.

Constance: Hold me. I'm so cold.

Sam: You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!

Constance: You will be. Just hold me.

Constance kisses Sam as he continues to struggle, reaching for the keys. She pulls back and disappears, a flash of something horrible behind her face as she vanishes. Sam looks around for a moment, then yells in pain and yanks his hoodie open. There are five new holes burned through the fabric, matching to Constance's fingers: she flickers in front of him, her hand reaching into his chest. A gunshot goes off, shattering the window and startling Constance. Dean approaches, still firing at her. She glares at him and vanishes, then reappears, and Dean keeps firing until she disappears again. Sam manages to sit up and start the car.

Sam: I'm taking you home.

Sam drives forward. Dean stares after the car. Sam smashes through the side of the house. Dean hurries through the wreckage to the passenger side of the car.

Dean: Sam! Sam! You okay?

Sam: I think...

Dean: Can you move?

Sam: Yeah. Help me?

Dean leans through the window to give Sam a hand.

Constance picks up a large framed photograph seen when she brought Troy here: the Woman is Constance and the children are presumably hers.

Dean helps Sam out of the car.

Dean: There you go.

Dean closes the car door. They look around and see Constance; she looks up. She glares at them and throws the picture down. A bureau scoots towards Sam and Dean, pinning them against the car. The lights flicker; Constance looks around, scared. Water begins to pour down the staircase. She goes over. At the top are the Boy and Girl from the photograph. They hold hands and speak in chorus.

Children: You've come home to us, Mommy.

Constance looks at them, distraught. Suddenly they are behind her; they embrace her tightly and she screams, her image flickering. In a surge of energy, still screaming, Constance and the two CHILDREN melt into a puddle in the floor. Sam and Dean shove the bureau over and go look at the spot where Constance and her CHILDREN vanished.

Dean: So this is where she drowned her kids.

Sam nods.

Sam: That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.

Dean: You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.

He slaps Sam on the chest where he's been injured and walks away. Sam laughs through the pain.

Sam: Yeah, I wish I could say the Same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?

Dean: Hey. Saved your ass.

"Highway to Hell" by AC/DC begins to play.

Dean leans over to look at the car.

Dean: I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car?

Dean twists around to look at Sam.

Dean: I'll kill you.

Sam laughs.



The Impala tears down the road; the right headlight is out.

Music: Living easy, loving free

Season ticket on a one-way ride

Sam has the journal open to "Dean 35-111" and a map open on his lap and is finding coordinates with a ruler, a flashlight tucked between chin and shoulder.

Music: Asking nothing

Sam: Okay, here's where Dad went.

Music: Leave me be

Sam: It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.

Music: Taking everythin' in my stride

Dean nods.

Dean: Sounds charming. How far?

Music: Don't need reason

Sam: About six hundred miles.

Music: Don't need rhyme

Dean: Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning.

Music: Ain't nothing I would rather do

Sam looks at him, hesitating.

Sam: Dean, I, um...

Music: Going down

Dean glances at the road and back.

Music: Party time

Dean: You're not going.

Music: My friends are gonna be there too

Sam: The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there.

Dean nods, disappointed, and returns his attention to the road.

Dean: Yeah. Yeah, whatever.

Dean glances at Sam.

Dean: I'll take you home.

Sam turns the flashlight off. They drive on.

Music: Highway to hell



Music: I'm on the highway to hell

They pull up in front of the apartment, Dean still frowning. Sam gets out and leans over to look through the window.

Sam: Call me if you find him?

Dean nods.

Sam: And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?

Dean: Yeah, all right.

Sam pats the car door twice and turns away. Dean leans toward the passenger door, one arm going over the back of the seat.

Dean: Sam?

Sam turns back.

Dean: You know, we made a hell of a team back there.

Sam: Yeah.

Dean drives off. Sam watches him go and sighs.


Sam lets himself in. Everything is dark and quiet.

Sam: Jess?

Sam closes the door.

Sam: You home?

Sam notices a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the table, with a note that reads "Missed you! Love you!", next to a National Geographic[i]. Sam picks one up and eats it as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. The shower is audibly running. Sam sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and flops onto his back.

Blood drips onto Sam's forehead, one drop, then another; he flinches and opens his eyes. He gasps in horror: Jess is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the belly.

Sam: No!

Jess bursts into flame; the fire spreads across the ceiling.

Dean kicks the front door open.

Dean: Sam!

Sam raises one arm to shield his face.

Sam: Jess!

Dean comes running into the bedroom.

Dean: Sam! Sam!

Dean looks up and sees Jess.

Sam: No! No!

Dean grabs Sam off the bed and bodily shoves him out the door, Sam struggling all the way.

Sam: Jess! Jess! No!

Flames engulf the apartment.



In a scene much like the end of the flashback, a fire truck is parked outside the building, firemen and police keeping back gawkers. Dean looks on, then turns and walks back to his car. Sam is standing behind the open trunk, loading a shotgun. Dean looks at the trunk, then at Sam, whose face is set in a mask of desperate anger. Sam looks up, then sighs, nods, and tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

Sam: We got work to do.

Sam shuts the trunk.



Deleted Scenes


SC 13

0:47 RT

Stanford University

Palo Alto, California

Present Day


It is 31 Oct 2005.

Luis, already in full zombie costume, comes around a telephone pole and starts down the sidewalk. He suddenly turns left, throwing out his arms in an attempt to startle.

Luis: Ha!

Sam shakes his head and smiles. Jess, in her nurse outfit, grins.

Luis: What do you think, huh?

Sam: Whatever.

Sam heads down the sidewalk. Jess and Luis follow, Sam taking Jess's hand.

Luis: At least I wore a costume. Man, if your sorry ass was trick-or-treating at my house, there would be no popcorn balls for you.

Sam glances over his shoulder at Luis.

Sam: You gave out popcorn balls?

They start across the street.

Luis: You could at least have gone as a slutty version of something. Slutty Dorothy, slutty Alice, slutty nurse-

Jess looks back at Luis.

Jess: Hey.

Luis: I-I didn't mean you.

Sam: Man, what can I say? I just never been a big fan of the whole thing.

Luis: Never been a fan-what, what, are you a Communist? Who doesn't like Halloween?

Sam, no longer smiling, looks away as they pass a Halloween decoration hanging from a fence: a skeleton in a black hooded cloak.


Deleted Scenes


SC 89

1:13 RT


Sam lets himself in. Everything is dark and quiet.

Sam: Jess?

Sam closes the door.

Sam: You home?


[i]INT. Impala - NIGHT

Dean drives. He looks at his watch: it is not ticking. He reaches for the steering wheel.


The Impala makes a U-turn.


Sam continues to eat the cookie as he sneaks into the bedroom, smiling. He sits on the bed, shuts his eyes, and flops onto his back with a sigh.

Sam flinches twice just as in the aired scene, though the first time there is no blood; he opens his eyes. He gasps in horror: Jess is pinned to the ceiling, staring down at him and bleeding from the belly.

Sam: No!

Jess bursts into flame.



Dean: Hey. How you doing?

Sam looks up, then sighs and looks back down.

Sam: I'm fine.

Sam tosses the shotgun into the trunk.

Sam: Come on. We got work to do.

Sam shuts the trunk.

The Impala drives away, Sam riding shotgun. Music begins to play.