[Dream a Little Dream of Me]
MOTEL ROOM
Bobby was asleep on the bed. The door unlocked from the outside and a maid entered. After a few steps, she saw Bobby on the bed, who hadn't reacted to the noses she'd made.
"Oh! I'm sorry," the maid apologized.
She began walking out again, but as she retrieved the keys from the door, and Bobby still hadn't moved. She looked a little worried.
"Sir?"
Since he still wasn't moving, she left her keys in the door and walked over between the bed and the desk.
The maid touched Bobby on the shoulder. "Wake up."
Bobby didn't react. In the kitchen, a woman was screaming and Bobby was trying to survive the attack. She slammed his head against the floor.
The maid grabbed Bobby's shoulders, trying to wake him up.
"Wake up, you hear me? Wake up. Sir, wake up!" the maid called.
She turned to the door, panicked. "Help! I need some help in here!"
BAR
The bartender turned, a bottle in hand, to a man and woman. He grabbed a glass and walked down the bar. "Cheers!"
The bartender poured a drink. Sam was nursing a drink of his own. He tilted his glass back and forth slowly, almost spilling out the contents as a sad expression covered his face. The door opened behind him and Dean and Francesca walked in. When they saw Sam, they walked over with furrowed brows.
"There you are," Dean said. "What are you doing?"
Sam turned to them. "Having a drink."
Francesca's brow furrowed. "It's two in the afternoon. Drinking whiskey?"
"I drink whiskey all the time."
"No, you don't."
"What's the big deal? Dean, you get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can't I?"
Dean looked around and saw a woman around 40. "It does have slim pickings in here." He turned back to Sam. "What's going on with you?"
Sam shook his head and didn't say anything for a few moments, looking completely lost. "I tried, Dean, Frankie."
Dean and Francesca looked confused. "To do what?"
Sam glanced at Dean. "To save you."
Dean sat next to him and Francesca sat on the other side as Dean said, "Could I get a whiskey, double, neat."
"I'm serious, Dean."
"No, you're drunk."
"I mean, where you're going... what you're gonna become." He looked close to tears and scoffed. "I can't stop it." He paused a beat. "I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it. But really, the thing is, no one can save you."
"What I've been telling you and Frankie."
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you because you don't wanna be saved, how can you care so little about yourself."
Francesca glanced at the eldest Winchester. "Dean, is that true?"
Dean took it all in, scoffed, and smiled a little.
"What's wrong with you?" Sam asked.
Dean looked over to meet Sam's eyes, but before they got a chance to say anything else, Dean's cell rang.
Dean answered. "Hello?" ... "Yes, this is Mr. Sniderson." ... He looked surprised. "What?" ... He looked over at Sam and Francesca. "Where?"
ROAD
The Impala zoomed down the road.
HOSPITAL
Bobby was lying in a hospital bed. Dean, Sam and Francesca were standing next to Bobby's bed.
"So, what's the diagnosis?" Sam questioned.
"We've tested everything we can think to test," the doctor replied. "He seems perfectly healthy."
"Except that he's comatose," Dean said.
"Mr. Sniderson, you're his emergency contact. Anything we should know? Any illnesses?"
"No, he-he never gets sick. I mean, he doesn't even catch a cold."
"Doctor, is there anything you can do?" Francesca asked.
"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know what's causing it... so we don't know how to treat it. He just... went to sleep, and didn't wake up."
Dean, Sam and Francesca shared a look, then looked over at Bobby.
MOTEL ROOM
The three hunters entered the room.
Sam asked, "So, what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?"
"Unless he was taking an extremely lame vacation..." He closed the door as they walked into the center of the room.
"He was working a job," Sam guessed as the trio walked around the room.
Francesca let out a sigh. "Well, you think there'd be some sort of sign of something, you know?"
Sam opened a drawer, but it was empty. Dean and Francesca did the same, and it was also empty. The room looked completely clean.
"Research, news clippings..." Dean began as Sam turned to the closet. "Or a frigging pizza box or a beer can."
Dean walked away from the dresser he was looking in and Sam walked over to the closet. After a moment, Francesca joined him. Bobby's clothes were hanging there, with a gap to separate them. Sam turned on the light and Dean turned around to them.
"How 'bout this?" Sam asked.
Francesca moved the clothes out of the way and on the wall behind them hung all the news clippings, maps and pictures they were looking for. There were pictures of roots, mushrooms, seeds and a map where Bobby had written "Pittsburgh" in big letters and underlined it. There were Post-Its with addresses and numbers. There was a piece of paper about a plant.
Dean chuckled. "Good old Bobby, always covering up his tracks."
"Either of you make heads or tails of any of this?" Sam asked.
Francesca took one of the papers about a plant and read the title of it. ""Slene capensis." Not sure what that means. Seems Dean doesn't either."
"Here, obit." He took a newspaper clipping and read from it as he skimmed it. ""Dr. Walker Gregg, 64, university neurologist.""
"How'd he bite it?" Dean asked.
"Um... actually, they don't know. They say he just went to sleep and didn't wake up."
Dean took the clipping and read it himself. "That sound familiar to either of you?"
Francesca read over the clipping. "All right, uh... So let's say Bobby was looking into the doc's death. You know, hunting after something-"
Dean glanced up at her. "That started hunting him."
"Yeah."
"All right, stay here. See if you and Sam can make heads or tails of this." He pointed to the closet.
"What are you gonna do?" Sam questioned.
"Look into the doctor myself."
"Be careful," Francesca warned.
"Yeah, you too."
DR. GREGG'S OFFICE
Books and boxes were cluttered over the office, ready to be packed up and removed. Dean and Dr. Gregg's assistant came in.
"So you're Dr. Gregg's lab assistant?" Dean asked.
"That's right," Sanders replied.
"Well, his death must have come as a shock to you."
"Yeah, it did."
Dean looked around the office while Sanders stood behind him.
"But still, go in your sleep, peaceful... That's what you wish for, right?" Sanders said.
"Yeah. Right," Dean agreed.
Dean looked at a book on the doctor's desk as he questioned, "Dr. Gregg uh... studied sleeping disorders?"
He picked up a book and held it up for Sanders. "Dreams?"
"I don't understand," Sanders replied. "I went over all of this with the other detectives."
Dean put the book down and looked at her, curious. "You already spoke to another detective?"
"Yes. A very nice older man with a beard and his rookie partner."
"Well, we'd love to hear it again if you don't mind."
"Thing is, I'm sort of busy. Maybe we could do this later?"
"Sure. Yeah. Just bring you down to the station later this afternoon." His face fell. "Get your statement, do it all official-like."
"Look, okay, I didn't know about Dr. Gregg's experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files."
"His experiments, uh...? The ones he was conducting on sleeping?"
"No one knew, okay? Not the university, not anybody. I already spoke with a lawyer and he told me I can't be held liable for anything."
"Maybe you couldn't, but that was before the new evidence came to light."
"New evidence?"
"Mhm," Dean hummed.
"What new evidence?"
"My I'm not at liberty to say."
Sanders let out a sigh. "Look, I'm just a grad student, this was a gig to cover tuition."
"Maybe so. But, uh, still this-this... this could go on your permanent record. Unless you hand over the doctor's research to us. All of it."
JEREMY FROST RESIDENCE
Dean held up his badge, that stated Dean was a detective for the Pittsburgh Police Department. Jeremy moved away from the door so Dean could come in.
"Look, I don't know what the RA said, but, ah, I was growing ferns," Jeremy told him as they walked in.
Dean scoffed. "Take it easy, Phish, that's not why I'm here."
"Really?"
Dean turned around to him, a file in his hands.
Jeremy was relieved. "Oh, thank God. Okay."
"I wanna talk to you about Dr. Gregg's sleep study."
"Yeah. Dr. Gregg just died, right?"
"You were one of his test subjects, right?"
"Yeah." Jeremy opened his fridge and took out two beers. He held them up a bit, motioning as a question. He held out one to Dean. "Unless you're on duty or whatever?"
Dean looked to the door for a second, then decided to go for the beer. "I guess I can make an exception."
Dean took the bottle and Jeremy grabbed the bottle opened. He opened his bottle and Dean opened his. They held up their beers and took a swig. Dean closed his eyes as he took in the beer, enjoying the taste.
Dean gave a small smile before continuing with the interview. "Now, Dr. Gregg was testing treatments for a, uh, "Charcot-Wilbrand Syndrome"? Which means...?"
"Um... I, uh... I can't dream," Jeremy explained as Dean made a "huh" face. "I had this bike accident when I was a kid and banged my head pretty good and I haven't had a dream since. Till the study. You know. Sort of."
"What'd the doc give you?"
"It's this yellow team. It... it smelled awful, tasted worse."
"What did it do?"
"Just passed right out. And uh, I had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Like a bad acid trip, you know?"
Dean forgot he was in character. "Totally." He remembered his role. "I mean, no."
"That was it. I dropped out of the study right after that. I didn't... like it. To tell you the truth... it kind of scared me."
Dean looked at him, thoughtful.
HOSPITAL
Dean was sitting by Bobby's bed, looking at him, thoughtful. Sam and Francesca entered after a few seconds. Dean turned around to look at them. They shared a look before Sam and Francesca walked further into the room.
"How is he?" Sam and Francesca asked.
Dean rubbed his hand over his chin as he turned back to Bobby. Sam and Francesca walked to stand by the foot of the bed. Sam was holding files.
"No change. What you two got?" Dean asked, getting up and walking up to Sam and Francesca to see what they'd brought.
"Well, considering what you told me and Frankie about the doc's experiments..." Sam sighed, "...Bobby's wall is starting to make a hell of a lot more sense."
"How so?" Dean questioned.
Sam held up a picture of a plant from the folder. "This plant, Silene capensis, is also known as African Dream Root. It's been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries."
"Let me guess. They dose up, bust out didjeridus, start kicking around the hackey."
"Not quite," Francesca replied. "If you believe the legends, it's used for dream-walking. I mean, entering another person's dreams, poking around in their heads. Loco stuff."
"I take it we believe the legends."
The three of them shared a look before Sam said, "When don't we? But dream-walking is just the tip of the iceberg."
They picked up a newspaper from the folder that contains info on the root and a drawing of it.
"What do you mean?" Dean wondered.
"I mean, this Dream Root is some serious mojo. You take enough of it, with practice, you can become a regular Freddy Krueger. You can control anything. You could turn bad dreams good, you could turn good dreams bad."
"And killing people in their sleep?"
Sam nodded. "For example." Dean and Francesca sighed. "So let's say uh, let's say this doc was testing this stuff on his patients, Tim Leary-style."
"Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream visit, he goes nighty-night."
"What about Bobby?" Francesca wondered. "I mean, if the killer came after him, how come he's still alive?"
Dean met her eyes. "I don't know."
HOUSE - DREAM
Bobby was holding a door closed as the woman banged on it, making it rattle. She continued to scream and Bobby was panting, scared. He looked around for something to hold the door, and grabbed an old suitcase. He desperately grabbed around the space, which was a closet, for anything to hold the door. He grabbed a broom and held his back to the door, trying to keep it closed.
"Help me!" Bobby screamed. "Somebody help me!"
The closet was gone and instead a very long hallway.
"HELP ME!"
HALLWAY
Sam, Dean and Francesca exited Bobby's room and walked down the hallway.
"So how do we find our homicidal sandman?" Dean questioned.
"Could be anyone," Sam replied.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Anyone who knew the doctor and had access to his dream shrooms."
"Maybe one of his test subjects or something?"
"Possible. But his research was pretty sketchy. I mean... I don't know how many subjects he had or who all of them were."
Sam scoffed and Dean and Francesca looked at him and asked, "What?"
Sam sighed loudly. "Any other case, we'd be calling Bobby and asking him for help right now."
A sudden thought occurred to Dean and Francesca and they grabbed Sam by the arms to stop him and looked at him.
"You know what? You're right," Dean told Sam.
"What?"
"Let's go talk to him," Francesca decided.
Sam was confused. "Sure, I think we might find the conversation a bit one-sided."
Francesca had a sudden thought and grinned slyly. "Not if we're tripping on some Dream Root."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"You all wanna go dream walking inside Bobby's head?"
"Yeah. Why not?" Dean replied. "Maybe we could help."
"We have no idea what's crawling around in there."
"How bad could it be?"
"Bad."
"Dude, it's Bobby."
"Yeah, you're right." He scoffed. "One problem though. We're fresh out of African Dream Root, so unless any of you know someone who can score some it..."
"Crap," Dean and Francesca said.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Bela."
"Bela? Crap."
Sam scoffed and continued. "You're both actually suggesting we ask her a favor?"
"I'm feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah," Dean replied.
Francesca stared up at Sam. "As much as I hate it, I think Bela's our only way to wake him."
Dean and Francesca walked away. Sam didn't move for a moment then sighed and followed.
MOTEL ROOM
Sam was sitting by his laptop when a knock on the door sounded. He closed the computer, sighed, and walked over to the door. He cautiously opened it a few inches and when he saw who it was, he opened it up completely, walking with hit, and held it up.
Bela walked in in a trench coat. "Hey, Sam."
Sam closed the door as Bela stopped in the room, turned around, then faced him.
Sam, in an annoyed tone, said, "Bela, I didn't think there's a chance in hell you'd show up." He stood across from her, putting his hands on his hips.
She smiled at him. "Well, I'm full of surprises. Though, truthfully..." She took hold of the belt of her trench coat and began walking towards Sam. "You wanna know why I'm here?"
Sam took a few steps back as Bela came up in front of him. "Okay."
Bela opened and took off her coat, revealing she was only in her underwear. "Because of you."
Sam looked to the side, unsure and a little embarrassed, as the coat fell to the floor. "Uh... What are you doing?" He looked at her and she put her hand on his cheek, her eyes on his lips.
"I can't stop thinking about you."
Sam, confused, asked, "What?"
She leaned in and kissed him. He responded and put his hand on her arm. They breathed in with the kiss and she put her other hand on his waist.
"Are you sure?"
Sam landed on his back on the bed with Bela on top of him as they continued kissing. They rolled over as Bela moaned and ended up beneath Sam.
"Sam. Sam. Sam. Oh," Bela said.
"Sam!" Dean and Francesca called. "Wake up."
Sam was by the desk, resting his head on his arm. Drool covered his hand and he had a smile on his face. Dean and Francesca were sitting behind him looking through papers about the case. Sam smiled a little more, then realized it was a dream. His smile disappeared and sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. The same hand he had drool on, which he discovered. He wiped his face with his other arm.
Dean smiled at him. "Dude, you were out. Making some serious happy noises." Sam looked uncomfortable and didn't look at Dean. "Who were you dreaming about?"
"What? No one. Nothing," Sam replied.
"Come on, you can tell us. Angelina Jolie?"
"No."
"Brad Pitt?"
Sam turned around, almost looking at him. "No. No. Dude, it doesn't matter."
"Whatever."
Francesca turned to Dean. "Are you ever embarrassed by what you say?"
Dean shook his head. "No, not really."
"Ain't that the least surprising."
"Whatever," Sam said to himself.
"I called Bela," Dean said.
Sam froze and a quick smile flashed. He tried to cover his voice as he answered. "Bela? Yeah? She-What's she... you know, say? She... gonna... help us?"
Francesca stared up at him. "Shockingly, no, which puts us back to square one. The two of us have been trying to decipher the doctor's notes."
"Unfortunately, he has worse handwriting than you do," Dean added.
Sam was still in the chair, his back to them, and looked around a little.
"You gonna come help us with this stuff?" Dean asked.
Dean looked at him. Sam looked around, then down to his crotch and looked up, still keeping his back to the other three.
"Yeah, yeah. Just give me a sec," Sam said.
He moved around a bit in his seat, moving his hands around. Suddenly, a knock on the door sounded. The three turned in its direction. Sam stayed in his char as Dean got up to open the door. Dean opened the door inches. When he saw who it was, he looked annoyed and opened the door, walking with it.
"Bela," Dean stated. "As I live and breathe."
Bela entered wearing a similar trench coat to the one in Sam's dream, only it was black instead of tan. Sam reacted to her immediately and tried to cover up his "situation".
"You called me," Bela said. "Remember?"
"I remember you turning me down," Dean replied.
"Well, I'm just full of surprises."
Sam, still in his chair, waved one hand at her while the other was placed to continue covering things up. He wasn't looking at her.
"Hey, Bela," Sam greeted. "What's going on?"
Dean and Francesca looked from her to Sam and she continued on.
"I brought you your African Dream Root." Bela handed a jar of it to Dean. "Nasty stuff, and not easy to come by." She put her bag on the TV and went to open her coat, with her back to Sam.
Francesca crossed her arms and frowned. "Why the sudden change of heart?"
"What? I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"
Sam got a bit more tense but curious as she was removing her coat.
"No, you can't," Dean and Francesca said.
The coat fell away and revealed Bela in a regular shirt. Sam let out a silent breath and visibly relaxed a little.
"Come on, I wanna know what the strings are before you attach them," Dean told her.
"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right?" Bela asked as Dean nodded. "Well, I'm doing this for him, not you."
"Bobby? Why?"
"He saved my life once." She paused a beat. "In Flagstaff."
Dean and Francesca threw a look Sam's way and Sam shrugged. Dean and Francesca looked back at her, still not responding to her statement.
Bela continued. "I screwed up and he saved me, okay? You satisfied?"
"Maybe," Dean replied.
"Noh," Francesca deadpanned.
Bela looked at Dean who was looking at the jar and at Sam and Francesca.
"So when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?" Dean asked.
"Oh, you're not going anywhere," Bela replied. "I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense."
Sam looked disappointed. Dean walked over to the closet. He turned on the lights and opened up the safe, where the Colt was, and he put in the jar of Dream Root with it. Bela, Sam and Francesca were watching him.
"None taken."
Sam looked up at her quickly and Dean closed the safe, locking it. He walked into the room, and Bela was looking annoyed.
"It's two am," Bela said. "Where am I supposed to go?"
"Get a room," Dean told her. "Ah, they got the Magic Fingers, a little Casa Erotica on pay-per-view. You'll love it."
"You..." She took her bag in a huff and walked to the door, picking up her coat on the way.
Sam jumped out of his chair, calling after her. "Nice to see... Seeing you..." She slammed the door behind her, ignoring him. "Bela."
Dean who was smiling after her, and Francesca whose lips were pursed, took Sam's words in and turned to Sam, a little confused.
LATER
Sam walked over to the beds, holding three glass cups of the liquid containing the Dream Root. Dean and Francesca were sitting on the bed, waiting for him. As he came over, he handed Dean and Francesca one of the cups. Sam sat on the other bed.
"Uh, should we dim the lights and synch up Wizard of Oz to Dark Side of the Moon?" Dean asked.
Sam and Francesca looked over at him with a smile. "Why?"
Dean looked between them, disappointed. "What did you two do during college or before we met you?"
Sam and Francesca looked at him with their usual "huh" reactions.
Dean went to drink the liquid, but Sam and Francesca stopped him as Sam said, "Wait, wait, wait. Can't forget this."
Dean put down the cup as Sam pulled out a little brown envelope from his shirt pocket. He pulled something out and as Dean and Francesca reached out their hands, he put something in them.
"Here," Sam said.
"What the hell is that?" Dean asked.
"Bobby's hair," Francesca replied.
"We have to drink Bobby's hair?"
"That's how you control whose dream you're entering," Sam explained. "You gotta drink some of their uh... Some of their body."
"Well, guess the hair of the dog is better than other parts of the body," Dean decided.
They put it in and Sam exhaled, getting ready to drink what seemed to be a very disgusting drink. The three raised their cups a bit.
"Bottoms up," Dean said.
"Yeah," Sam and Francesca agreed.
The three toasted and drank it all up. They grunted, trying to swallow, which was hard. They smacked their mouths, due to the awful taste. They looked disgusted and nothing seemed to have changed.
"Feel anything?" Dean and Francesca asked.
"No. You two feel anything?" Sam questioned.
Sam looked at Dean and Francesca as they shook their heads a little.
"No," Dean said, holding the cup and looked in it. "Maybe we got some bad shawg."
Thunder sounded from outside and rain pattered the window.
"Hey, when did it start raining?" Sam wondered.
Dean and Francesca glanced at the window as well. They got up and started walking to the window, which was covered in white curtains. As they came up to it, they pulled the curtains apart to look outside.
"When did it start raining upside down?" Francesca inquired.
They turned around to Sam and suddenly, they were standing in front of the same house Bobby was dreaming about. They looked around a bit and the window Dean and Francesca were looking through was gone and there was a fireplace. The bedroom part of the motel had turned into a living room.
Dean frowned. "Okay, I don't know what's weirder. The fact that we're in Bobby's head or that he's dreaming of Better Homes and Gardens." He was looking at Sam and Francesca while they looked around the room a bit more.
"Wait," Sam said. "Wait a sec. Imagine the place without the paint job." He gestured to everything he was talking about. "More cluttered, dusty books all over the place."
They began moving around the living room.
"It's Bobby's house," Dean realized.
"Yeah," Sam and Francesca confirmed.
Dean and Francesca called out in a hushed voice, "Bobby?"
As Sam and Francesca walked to the opening of the living room, they felt someone watching them. They turned around, but didn't see anyone. Sam and Francesca kept watching and the figure was watching them through the curtains. Sam and Francesca turned back around and walked slowly to the stairs and the person watching outside moved to get a better view again. Sam and Francesca looked up towards the top of the stairs.
"Bobby?" Sam and Francesca whispered as they looked towards the door while Dean was still in the living room. "Dean?"
Dean turned to Sam and Francesca.
"Frankie and I are gonna go look outside," Sam said.
"No, no, no, stay close," Dean whispered.
"Dude, we'll be fine. Just, look around in here. Look, we gotta find him."
"Don't do anything stupid," Dean warned.
"Goes for you too," Francesca said.
Sam and Francesca nodded and walked to the door; it was still raining outside.
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca exited and everything was in bright technicolor and the sun was shining. The house was bright blue with lowers all around and birds chirped. Sam and Francesca walked out onto the porch and exchanged a confused look. As they took it in, the door suddenly slammed behind them. They turned around at the sound and went back and tried to open it, but it was locked.
"Dean!" Sam and Francesca called.
They walked over to the window next to the door and banged on the wall while looking in. Dean was still looking around the house with his backs to Sam and Francesca, not reacting to Sam and Francesca's calls.
"Dean!"
Sam and Francesca walked down the porch.
Francesca glanced back at Dean, praying he'd be safe and would be able to find Bobby.
BOBBY'S HOUSE
Dean opened the doors to the kitchen. He walked in and looked around cautiously. He moved through the kitchen towards the hallway on the other side.
"Bobby?" Dean called.
He walked out into the hallway where there were two doors. One across from the kitchen and one on the left.
"Bobby!"
Bobby turned as if he'd heard something and looked down the hallway in the other direction, where there was another closed door.
"Who's out there?" Bobby asked in a scared tone.
Dean turned back to the door that was on his left when he first entered the hallway. He walked over to the door and there were long scratch marks on it. Dean touched them as he went for the doorknob.
"Bobby, you in there?" Dean whispered.
"Dean?" Bobby questioned.
"Yeah. It's me. Open up."
Bobby opened the door and looked behind Dean.
"Hey," Dean greeted.
Bobby moved towards the kitchen, looking scared and looking around to make sure the screaming woman wasn't there. He was scratched on his cheek and nose. Dean walked up next to him.
"How in the hell did you find me?" Bobby asked.
"Sam, Frankie and I got our hands on some of that Dream Root stuff," Dean explained.
"Dream Root? What?"
"Dr. Gregg, the experiments?"
Bobby, who was still looking around, threw him a glance; still terrified. "What the hell are you talking about?" The lamps began flickering. "Hurry."
He ran for the closet again. Dean turned around and grabbed him, trying to figure out what was going on. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What's going on?"
"She's coming."
"Okay, you know this is a dream, don't you?"
"What are you, crazy?" Bobby replied in a terrified tone.
"It's a dream, Bobby! None of this is real!"
The woman from Bobby's dreams opened the door on the other side of the hallway, behind Dean.
Bobby pointed to the woman. "Does that look made-up?"
Dean turned around and the woman came out into the hallway. She was wearing a white dress and there was blood on it and her. Suddenly the closet door slammed shut and Bobby turned around, rattling the doorknob to make it open. Dean looked at him and then when Bobby turned around, Dean looked back at the woman. She looked normal, except for a few cuts on her chest and neck. Her hair was styled in a regular fashion. She didn't look happy.
"Bobby, who is that?" Dean asked.
Bobby, with tears in his eyes, replied, "She's... She's my wife."
Her expression wasn't as hard; she was looking back at Dean and Bobby. Dean looked from Bobby to her and back again.
MOTEL ROOM
Sam, Francesca and Dean were each lying on their beds. Dean still had the cup in his hand. Sam and Francesca's were on the floor between the beds and their arms were hanging above them. They were on their backs.
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
In the backyard, Sam and Francesca came around the house. There was a little pond and loads of beautiful flowers. Sam and Francesca walked further into the backyard, just looking around.
"Why Bobby?" Bobby's wife asked.
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
"Why did you do this to me?"
They were standing in the kitchen by the living room and his wife was standing in the doorway leading to the hall. At her words, Bobby turned around.
"I'd rather died myself than hurt you," Bobby replied.
"But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me. Again and again. You watched me bleed. Watched me die."
Dean came up behind Bobby and grabbed hold of him. "Bobby, she's not real."
Bobby didn't respond to Dean, as his eyes were on his wife.
"How could you?" Bobby's wife asked.
Bobby was close to tears. "You were possessed, baby. You were rabid. And I didn't know what I know now. I didn't know how to save you."
"You're lying. You wanted me dead. If you loved me," she screamed, "you would've found a way!"
Bobby's voice sounded small. "I'm sorry."
Dean grabbed hold of Bobby again, more forceful. "Come on."
He dragged Bobby into the living room as he began to slide the doors closed. Bobby's wife ran for the doors, screaming.
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca were walking by a line of washed sheets, drying in the wind. When they turned around, Jeremy showed up with a bat, swung, and hit them hard in the chest and abdomen.
INT. MOTEL ROOM
Sam and Francesca flinched from the hit.
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca fell to the ground with the hit.
INT. MOTEL ROOM
Sam and Francesca were still knocked out.
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca were on the ground and Jeremy stood over them.
"Who are you?" Sam and Francesca demanded.
"Who are you two? You don't belong here," Jeremy replied.
"You're one to talk," Sam shot back. "You're in our friend's head."
"You two got a poor choice in friends. This is self-defense. He came after me. He wanted to hurt me."
"Maybe because you're a killer," Francesca argued.
"You two should be nicer to me. In here... you're both just insects. I'm a god."
"No you're not. You're a boy with a taste for power."
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Bobby's wife was jumping and banging on the doors to the living room, screaming.
"We're telling you, all of it," Dean said. "Your house, your wife, it's a nightmare."
Dean was standing by the doors, keeping them closed. Bobby was standing across from him, just looking at him. His wife continued to bang and scream. Dean grabbed a wire and to tie around the doorhandles.
"I killed her!" Bobby cried.
"Bobby!" Dean yelled. "This is your dream that you can wake up. I mean, hell, you can do anything."
Dean tied the doors together just as Bobby walked up behind him and said, "Just leave me alone. Let her kill me already."
Dean grabbed hold of him, trying to get him to wake up, to snap out of it. "Look at me. Look at me. You gotta snap out of this now. You gotta snap out of this now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a father to me. You gotta believe me, please."
They looked at each other for a moment. Bobby looked once at the door his wife was still banging on and screaming behind, then looked back at Dean.
"I'm dreaming?" Bobby asked.
"Yes," Dean replied. "Now take control of it."
Bobby looked towards the door and closed his eyes for a second and suddenly all the banging and screaming stopped. Dean let go of him and walked towards the doors. He removed the cable and slid the doors open, revealing an empty kitchen. Bobby's wife was nowhere in sight.
"I don't believe it," Bobby said.
Dean turned around and looked at him breathing heavily as he answered, "Believe it. Now would you please wake up?"
EXT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca were still on the ground and Jeremy was standing over them.
"Sweet dreams," Jeremy said.
He raised the bat and Sam and Francesca pulled up their arms to take the impact. Jeremy swung the bat down hard.
HOSPITAL
Bobby woke up with a force and sat up in bed.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean, Francesca and Sam woke up with a force, sitting up on their beds, panting.
HOSPITAL
Bobby was panting and looking around.
MOTEL ROOM
The trio were panting and Dean looked down at his cup. They glanced over at each other.
HOSPITAL - LATER
Bobby was sitting in bed, looking over papers from the investigation. Dean was sitting next to him.
"Hey, Bobby," Dean said. That, uh... That stuff, all that stuff with your wife?" Bobby looked over at him. "That actually happen?"
"Everybody got into hunting somehow."
"I'm sorry," Dean told him.
"Don't be sorry. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be lost in there. Or dead." He paused a beat. "Thank you."
Dean only responded with a twitch of his lips. Sam and Francesca entered, seeing the two of them sharing a look.
"So, uh, stoner boy wasn't in his dorm," Sam informed. "My guess is he's long gone by now."
"He ain't much of a stoner." Bobby picked up a picture of Jeremy and looked at it.
"No?" Dean questioned.
"No. His name's Jeremy Frost. Full-on genius. Hundred-and-sixty IQ. Which is sayin' some, considering his dad took a baseball bat to his head." Dean nodded at that. Bobby picked up another paper and handed it to Sam and Francesca glanced at it. "Here's Father of the Year." It was a copy of a driver's license for Jeremy's dad, Henry David Frost. "He died before Jeremy was ten."
"Looks like a real sweetheart," Sam and Francesca noted sarcastically.
"Injury gave him Charcot-Wilbrand, he hasn't had a dream since."
Sam put the paper back on the little side table as Dean said, "Till he started dosing the dream drug."
"Yep," Bobby confirmed.
"How'd he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?" Francesca asked.
"He was rooting around in my skull," Bobby replied. "God knows what he saw in there."
"Yeah. How'd he get in there in the first place?" Sam wondered. "Isn't he supposed to have some of your hair, your DNA or something?"
"Yeah," Dean agreed.
"Yeah. Before I knew it was him, he offered me a beer. I drank it. Dumbest frigging thing."
Dean realized he'd done the same thing and tried to make it a little lighter. "Oh, I don't know. It wasn't that dumb." He laughed nervously.
Sam, Francesca and Bobby looked at him.
"Dean, you didn't," Sam and Francesca said.
"I was thirsty," Dean reasoned.
Sam grew angry. "That's great, now he can come after either one of you."
"Well, now we just have to find him first."
"We better work fast and coffee up," Bobby told them. "Because one thing we cannot do is fall asleep."
Francesca narrowed her eyes at Dean. "How could you be so stupid?!"
Dean placed his arms on her shoulders. "Hey, relax. I'll be okay, Francesca."
"You better be."
TWO DAYS LATER
IMPALA
Dean was behind the wheel, Sam was sitting next to him and Francesca was in back. Dean was pissed over the whole situation.
"I mean, this Jeremy guy's not a frigging ghost," Dean said. "Where the hell could he be?"
"Dean, you sure you don't want me or Frankie to drive?" Sam asked. "You seem a little..." Dean looked over at him, "...caffeinated."
Dean's phone rang and he tried to get hold of it, but struggled. He muttered indistinctly and finally got it. Bobby was in the motel room with Bela.
"Tell me you got something," Dean said.
"Strip club was a bust, huh?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah."
"That was our last lead."
"What the hell, Bobby!"
"Don't yell at me, boy. I'm working my ass off here."
"Sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just... I - I - I'm tired."
Bela was using her spirit board and tarot cards to find help from the dead.
"Well, who ain't?" Bobby turned to Bela. "What do you got, Bela?"
"Sorry. Sometimes the spirit world is in a chatty mood, and sometimes it isn't."
Bobby spoke again to Dean. "She's got nothing."
"Great! Well, I'm just gonna go blow my brains out now!" He flipped the phone closed and threw it in his lap. He hit the steering wheel with an angry grunt.
Francesca placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and he placed his hand over hers.
MOTEL ROOM
Bobby flipped his phone closed and looked over at Bela, who was still working by the board.
Bobby walked over to her. "Let me ask you somethin'." Bela looked up at him. "What are you doin' helping us?"
Bela smiled a little. "Bobby, I'm surprised you don't remember." Bobby squinted his eyes a little, not making the connection. "Flagstaff?"
Bobby looked thoughtful a moment. "Oh. Yeah. Right. Flagstaff."
IMPALA
Dean turned the car on a side road instead of continuing straight. When they got to a clearing in the woods, he shut off the engine.
"All right, that's it," Dean said. "I'm done."
"What are you doing?" Sam asked.
Dean slid down a bit in his seat, resting his head on the back of it. "Taking myself a long-overdue nap."
"What? Dean, Jeremy can come after you," Sam reminded him.
"That's the idea," Dean replied.
"Excuse me?"
"Come on, man, we can't find him, so let him come to us," Dean reasoned.
"On his own turf? Where he's basically a god?"
"He's not a god," Francesca stated.
"I can handle it," Dean reasoned.
"Not alone you can't." Sam and Francesca reached over and pulled some of Dean's hair.
"Ow!" Dean cried as he touched his head where Sam and Francesca had grabbed some hair and looked at them. "What are you two doing?"
"Coming in with you."
"No, you two aren't," Dean protested.
"Why not?" Sam said. "At least then it'll be three against one."
Dean didn't answer at first, just opened and closed his mouth. "'Cause I don't want you two digging around in my head.".
"Too bad," Sam said as he went for the items to make the liquid and Dean looked at him for a moment.
LATER
The trio were asleep, the boys leaning on the doors of the Impala and Francesca stretched out in the back. Sam woke up first, clearing his throat. The car was in the same spot as it was before they'd fallen asleep.
"Dean. Frankie." Sam hit them on the arms and Dean and Francesca woke up forcefully.
"Jeez," Dean complained. "For the love of God."
"Hitting girls is rude," Francesca told him.
Dean looked around a bit, extremely tired. "What are we still doing here?"
"I have no idea," Sam admitted as they heard a sound from outside the car. "There's someone out there."
They got out of the car and looked around. As they walked in front of the car, they heard music. Dean looked behind him and turned around to see a corner of the clearing light up. Lisa Braeden was sitting on a little blanket and had a picnic basket. Dean looked at her and she smiled at him.
"Hey," Lisa greeted. "You gonna sit down?"
Dean didn't move and looked at her. She had a glass of red wine in her hand and she reached for another glass in the basket.
"Come on," Lisa told him. "We only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball."
She held the glass out for him, giving him another smile. Sam and Francesca were standing a bit behind Dean, taking it all in as Dean looked at her.
He looked at Sam and Francesca. "I've never had this dream before."
Dean turned back, away from Sam and Francesca, obviously lying. Sam and Francesca took a few steps towards him.
"Stop looking at me like that," Dean told his brother and friend.
"Sorry," Sam and Francesca apologized.
"Dean. I love you," Lisa said.
She smiled and suddenly Lisa, the light and the music disappeared. Dean looked around and Sam and Francesca turned, doing the same.
"Where'd she go?" Dean asked.
Dean saw another picnic blanket with Francesca smiling up at him. He returned her smile and sat next to her.
Francesca held up a pie. "Got your favorite."
Dean grinned. "God, I love you."
"I love you too." She kissed him and the two shared another smile.
Dean avoided Francesca's eye as he said, "I've never had this dream either."
Sam and Francesca looked into the woods and suddenly Jeremy came out from behind a tree.
"Dean," Sam and Francesca called.
They took after Jeremy, who ran off. Dean quickly followed Sam and Francesca and ran into the woods. Dean lost track of Sam and Francesca, but kept running in the same direction. Suddenly he stopped and turned, looking around, confused.
"Okay," Dean said.
The woods turned into wallpaper and Dean was standing in a hallway with doors on both sides.
WOODS
Sam and Francesca were still running through the woods in pursuit of Jeremy. They came to a clearing where they stopped, panted, and looked around. "Dean?!"
HALLWAY
Dean was walking down the hallway towards two doors at the end of it. Before he reached them, he suddenly opened slowly. Dean stopped, watching. The door glided open more, revealing a motel room.
Dean entered the motel room.
Clinking was heard as Dean entered the room. As he walked in, he noticed it looked exactly like the motel room he, Sam and Francesca were staying in. Across the room from the door sat a man on the chair by the desk. Dean walked further into the room, watching him.
"Jeremy?" Dean called.
The man kept clicking the on and off button for the lamp on his desk, his back to Dean. The man clicked the lamp back on and it was Dean. He turned his head towards Dean, looking meaner. Dean saw the man was himself. Dream Dean slowly stood and turned to Dean, who swallowed at the sight of himself. Dream Dean's face softened a little.
"Hey, Dean," Dream Dean greeted.
"Well, aren't you a handsome son of a gun." Dean shot him a cheeky smile.
"We need to talk."
Dean nodded and began walking in a circle, as did Dream Dean. They were walking in the same direction, across from each other.
"I get it," Dean said. "I get it. I'm my own worst nightmare, is that it? Huh? Kind of like the Superman III junkyard scene? A little mano y mano with myself?"
"Joke all you want, smart-ass. But you can't lie to me. I know the truth."
They stopped walking and had changed places. Dean stood by the desk, Dream Dean by the door.
"I know how dead you are inside," Dream Dean told Dean. "How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror... and hate what you see."
"Sorry, pal. It's not gonna work." Dean smiled. "You're not real."
"Sure I am. I'm you."
"I don't think so. 'Cause see, this is my siesta. Not yours." He raised his left hand. "All I gotta do is snap my fingers and you go bye-bye."
Dean snapped his fingers once and nothing happened. He snapped again, noticing nothing was happening. Dream Dean watched him. He snapped them three more times then let his hand fall to the side. The smile was gone, but his eyebrows were raised.
Dream Dean gave him a nod and looked at him, clearly saying "see". "I'm not going anywhere. Neither are you." The door slammed shut behind him and locked. Dean's smile was gone, taking in the seriousness. "Like I said..." He raised his right hand, which was holding a pistol-grip sawed-off. "...we need to talk."
IMPALA
A bang was heard, and Sam and Francesca woke up with a gasp. They looked at Dean who was still asleep.
"Dean," Sam and Francesca called, hitting Dean's arm. "Hey."
It wasn't Dean, but was Jeremy who was very much awake.
"Wake up," Sam and Francesca said.
Sam and Francesca hit Dean on the arm two more times, then Jeremy turned around with a hard, evil look. Sam and Francesca only had a second to respond to take in that it was Jeremy and not Dean, then Jeremy hit them hard in the stomach with the tip of the bat he'd used earlier in Bobby's dream. Sam and Francesca grunted and opened the doors.
Sam and Francesca fell through the doors, face first, still grunting in pain. Jeremy came around the front of the car, the bat resting against his shoulder.
"Boy, you two just don't know when to leave well enough alone, do you?" Jeremy said.
As he walked towards Sam and Francesca, who had reached the back of the Impala still on the ground, he closed the doors Sam and Francesca had fallen through and continued walking up to him. He towered over Sam and Francesca who'd turned over, were looking up at him, and were still moving backwards.
"You're a psycho," Sam and Francesca told him.
"You're wrong," Jeremy replied.
"Yeah? Tell that to Dr. Gregg," Sam said.
"The doc? No, no. The doc's the one that got me hooked on this stuff and then he took it away."
Sam and Francesca were still lying on the ground, looking up at him. Jeremy leaned on the Impala, raised the bat, holding it like he was about to swing and looked down at Sam and Francesca.
"But I needed it, and he wouldn't let me have it."
"So you killed him?" Sam and Francesca asked.
"I can dream again. You know what that's like, not being able to dream? You never rest, not really. It's like being awake for 15 years."
"And let me guess," Sam said. "That makes you go crazy?"
Jeremy leaned down towards Sam and Francesca, holding the bat out at them. "I just wanna be left alone. I just wanna dream."
"Sorry. Can't do that."
"That's the wrong answer."
Sam and Francesca were suddenly pulled flat against the ground. They began breathing heavily. They were tied to railroad spikes, unable to move.
"I'm getting better and better at this," Jeremy said. "Stronger and stronger all the time." He was standing by Sam and Francesca's feet, examining the bat. Sam and Francesca looked to the side, and Jeremy looked down at them. "But you two, your brother, her friend? You're not waking up. Not this time. I'm not gonna let you." Sam and Francesca looked up at him.
Francesca tried escaping from her chains, but couldn't. She glared at Jeremy.
MOTEL ROOM
"I mean, you're going to Hell and you won't lift a finger to stop it," Dream Dean told Dean.
Dean and Dream Dean were circling each other again.
"Talk about low self-esteem." Dream Dean chuckled. "Then again, I guess it's not much of a life worth saving, now is it?"
Dean spoke to himself. "Wake up, Dean. Come on, wake up."
"I mean, after all, you've got nothing outside of Sam and Frankie."
They stopped circling each other, back in their original positions. Dean by the door, Dream Dean by the desk.
"You are nothing," Dream Dean said. "You're as mindless and obedient as an attack dog."
Dean smiled a little. "That-That's not true."
"No? What are the things that you want? What are the things that you dream? I mean, your car? That's Dad's. Your favorite leather jacket?? Dad's. Your music? Dad's. Do you even have an original thought?" Dean scoffed, not wanting to admit anything. "No. No, all there is is, "Watch out for Sammy. Look out for your little brother and friend, boy!" You can still hear your dad's voice in your head, can't you?" He motioned with the weapon in his hand. "Clear as a bell."
Dean smiled. "Just shut up."
Dream Dean took down the weapon. "I mean, think about it." He began walking towards Dean, whose smile was fading. "...all he ever did is train you, boss you around." They were standing face to face. "But Sam... Sam he doted on. Sam, he loved. He would've loved Frankie, too."
"I mean it. I'm getting angry."
"Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else. Daddy's blunt little instrument." His tone turned angry. "Your own father didn't care whether you lived or died. Why should you?"
"Son of a bitch!" He pushed Dream Dean hard, and he hit the wall above the desk, landing on it. "My father was an obsessed bastard!"
Dream Dean tried to get up and Dean kicked him down on the desk again. He held the weapon as a bat and hit Dream Dean once and pinned him to the wall with it.
"All that crap he dumped on me, about protecting Sam," Dean said. "That was his crap. He's the one who couldn't protect his family. He-" Dean stepped back and swung the weapon again, hitting Dream Dean twice. "He's the one who let Mom die." He pinned Dream Dean again. "He wasn't there for Sam or even for Frankie. I always was! He wasn't fair! I didn't deserve what he put on me." He backed away from Dream Dean. "And I don't deserve to go to Hell!"
Dean shot Dream Dean twice in the chest. As he looked at Dream Dean, he saw he was dead. There was blood-spatter on Dream Dean's face and his eyes were closed.
IMPALA
Jeremy was hitting Sam and Francesca repeatedly on their legs and knees, both with the bat and his feet. Sam and Francesca were grunting through the assault, unable to move.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean approached Dream Dean on the desk, looking at him. Suddenly Dream Dean's eyes flickered open and they were completely black. Dean widened his eyes.
Dream Demon Dean sat up, looking into Dean's eyes and said in a hard, angry tone, "You can't escape me, Dean. You're gonna die. And this is what you're gonna become."
IMPALA
Jeremy stood over Sam and Francesca, the bat hovering above Sam and Francesca's chests. "You two can't stop me. There's nothing I can't do in here."
Sam and Francesca panted. "Because of the Dream Root."
"That's right."
"Yeah? Well, you're forgetting something," Sam said.
Jeremy held the bat, ready to swing down on Sam and Francesca. "What's that?"
Sam and Francesca looked up at him. "I took the Dream Root too." They smiled.
"Jeremy!" a man called.
Jeremy turned to see his father, Henry who called, "Jeremy!"
"No. No," Jeremy said as Henry walked towards him. "Dad?"
"You answer me when I'm talking to you, boy."
Jeremy backed away from Sam, Francesca and Henry, the bat no longer in his hands. "No."
Suddenly, Sam and Francesca showed up and hit Jeremy across his face with the bat and a fist.
UNKNOWN LOCATION
Jeremy's eyes flicked open.
MOTEL ROOM
Dream Dean stood.
IMPALA
Sam and Francesca hit Jeremy again.
UNKNOWN LOCATION
Jeremy turned over on the cot he was sleeping on, reacting to Sam and Francesca hitting him. He began shaking and gasped in his bed due to Sam and Francesca's beatings and died.
MOTEL ROOM
Dream Demon Dean disappeared.
IMPALA
The trio woke up. They looked at each other and looked away. Dean was taken by what had just happened.
HALLWAY
Bobby, Sam and Francesca came around the corner and walked down the hallway together. Sam had a key to the room in his hands.
"So you two did a little dream-weaving of your own in here, huh?" Bobby questioned.
"Yeah," Sam replied. "Frankie and I just sort of concentrated and it happened, you know?"
"Didn't have anything to do with... you know, your psychic stuff?"
Sam looked at him and they stopped walking. Bobby and Francesca turned and looked at him.
"No," Sam said. "I mean, I don't think so. Frankie was able to do it to, so I don't think so."
Bobby nodded. "Good."
They continued walking down the hallway.
MOTEL ROOM
Dean was on the phone with his back to the door. He closed the phone and when he heard the door being unlocked they turned around, and Sam, Bobby and Francesca entered.
"Hey, you guys seen Bela?" Dean asked. "She's not in her room. She's not answering her phone."
They entered and came in.
"She must've taken off or something," Sam guessed.
"Just like that? It's a little weird."
"Yeah well, if you ask me what's weird is why she helped us in the first place," Bobby replied.
Dean glanced at Bobby. "I thought you saved her life."
Bobby asked in a confused tone, "What the hell are you talking about?"
"The thing in Flagstaff."
Sam and Francesca turned to looked at Bobby.
"That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet," Bobby explained. "I gave her a good deal, that's all."
Dean got confused and closed his mouth. Sam and Francesca turned and looked at him, confused.
Sam turned back to Bobby. "Well, then why did y-"
"You boys and girl better check your pockets," Bobby told them.
Sam reached into his pockets, as did Dean and Francesca.
Bobby stifled a laugh. "Not literally."
Dean and Francesca stopped what they were doing and looked up at Sam and turned to the safe in the closet. Sam, who was looking at Dean and Francesca, did the same.
"No, no, no, no," Dean and Francesca said as they walked.
Dean went over to the safe and opened it up. It was empty.
"The Colt," Sam stated as Dean and Francesca looked over at him and Dean slammed the safe shut. "Bela stole the Colt."
"Damn it, boys, girl!" Bobby exclaimed.
"Pack your crap," Dean ordered, walking over to his bag on the couch.
"Why?" Sam asked. "Where are we going?"
Dean turned to him and glanced at Francesca. "We're gonna go hunt the bitch down."
Francesca nodded as she pursed her lips. "Yes we are."
They left the motel and stood by the open trunk. Dean was zipping his bag closed as Sam and Francesca put their bags in.
"Hey, Sam, Frankie," Dean called. "I was wondering. when you two were in my head, what did you two see?"
"Uh, just Jeremy," Sam lied. "He kept us separated from you. Easier to beat our brains out that way, I guess." Dean scoffed. "What about you? You never said."
Dean shook his head. "Nothing. I was looking for you and Frankie the whole time."
Dean took the keys out to lock the trunk and closed it and they got into the car. He glanced at Francesca and a small smile crossed his face.
Francesca returned his smile as she remembered the scene with the two of them. Was there something in time for them? She could certainly hope so.
IMPALA
Sam and Francesca sighed as they sat down. Dean looked thoughtful for awhile.
"Sam. Frankie," Dean called.
Sam and Francesca looked at him. "Yeah?"
Dean didn't look at them and cleared his throat. "I've been doing some thinking. And... Well, the thing is... I don't wanna die." Sam's expression softened and saddened, as did Francesca's. "I don't wanna go to Hell."
Sam swallowed, not answering right away and nodded his head slowly, before replying softly, "All right. Yeah. We'll find a way to save you."
Francesca nodded. "Yeah. We'll do what we can."
Dean looked at them and looked away with a nod. He looked back at his brother and friend, a little smile on his lips. "Okay, good."
Sam nodded at him reassuringly while Francesca's nod was a little more hesitant and laced with worry and slight fear.
Dean looked to the side and he heard his dream self say, "You can't escape me, Dean."
MOTEL ROOM - BLACK AND WHITE
"You're gonna die," Dream Dean said. "And this? This is what you're gonna become."
His eyes were as black as night. He smiled and snapped his fingers.