[Frontierland]
EXT. STREET
A noose was hanging from the gallows.
Sunrise, Wyoming - March 5, 1861
Two cowboys stepped into the street. A woman peered at them through a window. They faced each other from several feet apart. They opened their coats and had their hands ready to draw their guns. A man watched them through the window. One was wearing a Sheriff badge. It was Dean. A clock struck noon. Then men looked at each other and drew their guns. A gunshot sounded.
EXT. CAMPBELL COMPOUND
48 hours earlier and 150 years later
"It's here, somewhere," Sam said. "I know it." He looked to Bobby. "Help me move this."
INT. CAMPBELL COMPOUND
Sam and Bobby moved Samuel's desk, revealing a trapdoor.
"I'll be damned," Bobby commented.
Sam, Dean, Bobby and Francesca headed down the ladder.
"Welcome to the Campbell family library," Sam said.
"So, Samuel collected all this stuff, huh?" Dean asked.
"Apparently."
"Wow. All right, well, what are we looking for?"
"Well, anything that'll put a run in the Octomom's stockings," Bobby replied. "Pick a row."
They all started looking through the books in the library.
"Bingo," Bobby said as all four sat in the middle of the room. "Either of you jokers ever heard anything about a Phoenix?"
"River, Joaquin, or the giant flaming bird?" Dean questioned.
Bobby ignored him. "It says here that the ashes of a Phoenix can burn the mother."
"The mother?" Sam and Francesca repeated.
"Great," Dean muttered. "Where do we get one?"
Bobby shrugged. "You got me. I thought it was a myth."
Francesca looked between them. "All right, great. Well, let's see if we can find anything about a Phoenix."
They looked through the books again.
"Guys," Dean called. "Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys, check this out." Dean joined Bobby, Sam and Francesca at the table and began reading from the book he was holding. ""March 5, 1861. Sunrise, Wyoming. Gun killed a Phoenix today. Left a pile of smoking ash.""
"Really? Whose gun?" Sam asked.
"Colt's."
Sam and Francesca's eyes widened as it dawned on them. "Colt? Colt like-"
"Like the Colt. From..." Dean held up the book, grinning, "...From Samuel Colt's journal."
"What?!" Sam grinned. "That's his?"
"Yeah."
"Dude, no."
"Dude, yes."
Sam grabbed for the book. "Well, let me and Frankie see it."
"Get your own."
"Well, what else did he say about the Phoenix?" Bobby asked. "What does it look like? Has it got feathers?"
"It just says "Phoenix.""
"Did he say where he tracked it?" Francesca questioned.
"No."
"All right, so I guess we got to find one of our own, wherever it is," Sam said.
"I know where we can find one. March 5, 1861. Sunrise, Wyoming. We'll Star Trek IV this bitch." Sam and Francesca shrugged.
"I only watched Deep Space Nine," Bobby admitted.
"I've only seen the original," Francesca said. "Sorry, Dee."
Dean looked between Sam, Francesca and Bobby. "It's like I don't even know you guys anymore. Star Trek IV. Save the whales."
Sam, Francesca and Bobby shrugged.
Francesca let out a sigh, looking between them. "What I think he's trying to say, we take a trip back in time, join up with Samuel Colt, hunt the Phoenix, then haul the ashes back home with us."
"Exactly," Dean stated.
"Time travel?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah."
"That's a reasonable plan?"
"We got a guy who can swing it." Dean stood and prayed. "Castiel. The, uh, fate of the world is in the balance. So, come on down here. Come on, Cas. "I Dream of Jeannie" your ass down here pronto. Please."
An angel appeared in the vessel of a blonde woman.
"Jeannie?" Dean guessed.
"Rachel," she replied. "I understand you need some assistance? How can I help you?"
"Well, uh, we kind of need to talk to the Big Kahuna."
"I'm here on Castiel's behalf."
"Where is he?" Sam and Francesca asked.
"Busy."
"Busy?" Dean repeated.
"Yes."
"Well, we've got a line on the mother of freaking everything, so-"
"I'm sure your issue's very important. But Castiel is currently commanding an army, so-"
"So we get stuck with Miss Moneypenny."
"So you need to learn your place."
"Look, I don't know who you think you are-"
"I'm his friend."
Sam frowned. "What, you think we're not?"
"I think you call him when you need something. We're fighting a war."
"We get that."
Rachel narrowed her eyes. "Clearly you don't, or you wouldn't call them every time you stub your toe, you petty, entitled little pie-"
"Rachel," Castiel called. "That's enough."
Rachel turned to him. "I told you I'd take care of this."
"It's all right. You can go."
"You're staying?"
"Go. I'll come when I can."
"Wow. Friend of yours?" Dean wondered.
"Yes. She's my lieutenant. She's... committed to the cause. Now, what do you need?"
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
"Where the hell's Dean?" Bobby asked.
"Supply run, he said," Sam replied. "I don't know."
"Supply run?" Francesca repeated. "What's he need supplies for?"
"You got me."
"Um, about your plan. You'll only have 24 hours," Castiel told them.
"Wait, what?" Sam questioned. "Why?"
"Well, the answer to your question can best be expressed in a series of partial differential equations."
Bobby glanced at him. "Yeah, aim lower."
"The further back I send you, the harder it becomes to retrieve you. 24 hours is all I can risk. If I don't pull you home within that time, you'll be lost to me."
Dean entered the room carrying several large shopping bags as he said, "Well, then we better get you a watch."
"What the hell's all that?" Bobby asked.
"We are going native. Got to blend in." He handed Sam one of the bags from Wally's Western World.
"Uh, no, thanks," Sam said. "I'm fine."
"Sam."
"Dean, I can -- I can wear this." He gestured at his current outfit.
"And look like a spaceman?"
"Look, just because you're obsessed with all that Wild West stuff-"
"No, I'm not."
"You have a fetish."
"Shut up. I like old movies."
"You can recite every Clint Eastwood movie ever made, line for line."
"Even the monkey movies?" Bobby asked.
"Yeah. Especially the monkey movies."
"His name is Clyde," Dean informed. "At least wear the damn shirt. Frankie, got something for you."
Francesca pulled out a brown jacket and plaid shirt. She raised a brow and had an amused smile. She went upstairs and got dressed, glad that the clothes were the right size.
Sam soon came downstairs wearing a white shirt embroidered with yellow roses. Dean was wearing a whole outfit, complete with a sarape.
Sam frowned. "Dean, this is stupid. I look stupid."
"You going to a hoedown?" Bobby wondered.
Castiel looked at Dean's outfit. "Now, it is - is it customary to wear a blanket?"
"It's a sarape," Dean replied. "And, yes. It's, uh... Never mind. Let's just go." He looked at the gold watches and chains in his bag. "What's this?"
"Where you're goin', they don't take plastic," Bobby informed.
"We'll send you back to March 4th," Castiel said. "That should give you time to find the Colt... and this Phoenix creature."
All right, well, see ya at High Noon tomorrow." Dean clicked his tongue.
Castiel touched them on the forehead and they appeared in Sunrise, Wyoming 1861.
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
"Oh, now we're talking," Dean commented.
Francesca grinned. "Yeah, no kiddin'."
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
"I have to go," Castiel said.
"What about getting the boys and Frankie back?" Bobby questioned.
"Pray for me in 24 hours, and I'll return."
"I'll pray for all of us."
Bobby set a timer for 24 hours.
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
"All right. Let's go find Samuel Colt," Dean said.
Sam and Francesca set the timer on their watches to 24 hours.
"Hey, we should try the Saloon first, uh, see what we get from the locals," Dean suggested.
"Sure." Sam chuckled. "Whatever, Sundance."
"Think we'll have time to hit on saloon girls?" Dean asked, causing Sam to give him a look. "I'm kidding. Come on."
Sam took a step right into a pile of horse manure. "Oh, damn it. Come on."
"You know what that is?"
"Yeah, it's horse-"
"Authenticity."
Sam groaned and Francesca's nose wrinkled.
The trio walked into the center of town and saw a hanging taking place.
Judge Mortimer spoke. "We stand here today -- March 4, 1861 -- to execute justice upon Elias Finch for the murder of his own wife."
"Wow," Sam and Francesca commented. "Talk about authenticity."
"Sentence handed down by myself, Tye Mortimer, duly appointed judge of the Wyoming circuit. You will be hung by your neck until you die."
"You got anything to say?" the Sheriff questioned.
"You're gonna burn for this," Elias warned. "Every one of you."
Elias was hanged. His bones cracked and the crowd gasped. Francesca gripped Dean's hand and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"Good times," Dean muttered. "So where do we find Sammy Colt?"
"No idea," Sam replied. "Huh." He watched the judge and the Sheriff walk down the steps of the hanging platform. "I think I know who to ask, though."
A man turned and stared at Dean's attire. "Nice blanket."
Dean, disappointed, took off his sarape. Sam, Francesca and Dean entered the jail to find the Sheriff.
INT. JAIL
"Sheriff?" Dean called. "Can we have a word?"
"Depends who's askin'," the Sheriff said.
"Marshal Eastwood. Clint Eastwood. And the Missus. This here is, uh, Walker." He gestured to Sam. "He's a Texas Ranger."
"So what can I do for you boys and girl?"
"Uh, we're looking for a man," Sam replied.
"I'll bet," Judge Mortimer stated, gesturing to Dean. "Nice shirt, there."
Dean frowned. "What's wrong with my shirt?"
"You're very clean."
"It's dirtier than it looks."
"We need to find Samuel Colt. Do you know him?"
"The gunmaker?" the Sheriff questioned.
"Yeah. Is he in town?" Francesca asked.
"Not that I know of. Might try asking Elkins over at the Saloon. Been here longer than God."
Dean tipped his hand and he, Francesca and Sam left and headed for the saloon.
INT. SALOON
Dean surveyed the saloon. "This is not awesome."
Sam gave Dean an encouraging pat on the shoulder. Francesca took Dean's hand and gave it a light squeeze.
"Hi," Sam and Francesca greeted.
"What'll you have?" Elkins asked.
"Oh, uh, okay," Dean said. "Great. I'll have your top-shelf whiskey."
"Only have the one shelf."
"That'll do just fine." He pointed to Sam and Francesca. "And they'll have a sarsaparilla."
"You Elkins?" Sam questioned.
"One and only," Elkins replied.
"You know a man named Samuel Colt?" Dean asked.
"He passed through here about four years ago."
"He still around?" Sam and Francesca inquired.
"Rumor is, he's building a railroad stop 20 miles out of town, just by the Postal road. Middle of nowhere."
"The Devil's Gate?"
"Location fits," Dean said.
"Howdy, boys, ma'am," Darla greeted.
"Darla's my best girl," Elkins told them.
"Try me." She looked at Dean. "You want a kiss?"
Dean shied away, closer to Francesca. "S-so much more germier than I pictured."
"Darla!" Judge Mortimer called.
"Ah. Judge," Darla noted. "Nice to see you."
"I thought we had a date." The two went up the stairs.
"Wow, that was a close one," Dean said, smiling at Francesca. "I'm glad I've got you."
She returned his smile. "Me too." She sipped her sarsaparilla.
"I guess it's good to be judge," Sam commented.
"Yeah." He drank the whiskey and spit it out. "Ohh. It's like gasoline."
Sam smirked. "Sarsaparilla ain't half bad."
INT. SALOON - DARLA'S ROOM
Darla and Mortimer were on the bed. Darla saw something, gasped, and pushed away. She scrambled from the bed.
Downstairs, Sam, Francesca and Dean heard Darla's screams. They ran upstairs.
In Darla's room, Elias appeared and put his hand on Mortimer. Mortimer screamed and burned. Sam, Francesca and Dean entered and found Darla in the corner; on the bed there was only a smoldering skeleton, half turned to ash.
"You okay, Sheriff?" Sam questioned.
"'Course I'm okay," the Sheriff replied.
"It was a ghost!" Darla cried.
"It wasn't a ghost. Unless ghosts leave footprints." He gestured at the floor where there were dark footprints leading from the room.
"I am telling you, Elias Finch was here. He did... that, and then he walked out that door."
"Rope didn't kill him. Seen it before."
"Well, you got any idea what it could be?" Sam asked.
"Could be a thousand pieces."
"Well, you got a way to flush him out?" Dean inquired.
"'Course. We're gonna form a posse. Then we're gonna string Finch up right. Put a bullet in his head for good measure."
"That actually sounds like a good plan."
"You three should come along. Meet downstairs at dawn."
"Yeah, we'll be there."
"Get yourselves some real gear, huh?"
"Well, I think we ought to pay our respects to Finch."
"I was thinking the same thing," Sam agreed.
Francesca nodded. "As was I."
EXT. CEMETERY - NIGHT
"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Sam asked.
"Rose from the ashes, burned up its victim?" Dean said. "You know, maybe we're not looking for a flaming bird. Maybe the Phoenix is actually walking around in cowboy boots."
"That makes sense, right? Possibly Finch. So, question is, how do we take him out?"
"Well, we do know the one thing that'll kill friggin' anything, right?"
"Yeah, the Colt."
"So, you go get the gun."
"But isn't the gun coming here?" Francesca asked. "I mean, according to Samuel Colt's journal?"
"Yeah, but people here barely even know who Colt is. Maybe you got to go find him and make history."
"I'll stay here, hook up with the posse," Dean said. "'Cause you two know me -- I'm a posse magnet. I mean, I love posse. Make that into a T-shirt."
"You done? Look, the problem is, Colt's 20 miles outside of town. How are Frankie and I supposed to get there and back before noon?"
They heard a horse in the distance.
"Ride 'em, cowboy," Dean said before they bought a horse.
Sam tried to get on and failed.
"Wh -- uh, try -- try the other side," Dean suggested, petting the horse. "Yeah, good boy."
"Right." Sam got on the horse.
Francesca got on the horse behind Sam.
Sam rode away slowly. "Yeah. Right. Hey. This actually feels all right."
"All right, take it -- just take it easy," Dean told them.
"Yeah, you bet. I'm good. All right, 11:00 A.M., right?"
"Don't be late!"
"Okay."
"All right. Go on. Go. Hyah!"
"I'm okay!"
"That poor horse."
Francesca blew Dean a kiss and he blew one back to her.
Sam and Francesca galloped away.
The Sheriff went to his horse and Elias watched him. The horse was startled and ran off. The Sheriff saw Elias and shot him, to no effect.
"Forgive me! I'm sorry!" the Sheriff cried.
"You had your chance," Elias said. "Tell it to the judge."
Elias burned the Sheriff, and the Sheriff screamed and died.
INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY
"We need to talk," Rachel said.
Castiel frowned. "You summoned me here?"
"Castiel, I've been hearing things. Things I don't want to believe. Just tell me if it's true."
"If what's true?"
"You know. Your dirty little secret."
"I have to defeat Raphael."
"Not this way, Castiel."
"Rachel."
"We put our faith in you, and... look what you're turning into."
"I don't have a choice."
"Then neither do I." Rachel stabbed Castiel with her blade.
They fought and Castiel turned Rachel's blade on her and stabbed her. He lowered her to the ground and watched her die.
"I'm sorry," Castiel apologized.
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Castiel appeared in Bobby's kitchen, bleeding.
"What the hell is going on?!" Bobby asked. "Cas?" Castiel drew a sigil on the kitchen cabinet. "Cas? Are we running or fighting?"
"We're..." Castiel began, collapsing into Bobby's arms.
"Balls."
INT. SALOON - DAY
"New hat," Elkins noted.
"I look good," Dean said, earning an odd look. "Where's the posse? I must be early."
"Or you're the only greenhorn dumb enough to go chasing after a ghost."
"What are you talking about? Sheriff's tough as nails. He'll be here."
A man from outside the saloon cried, "Oh, God! The Sheriff's dead!"
"Or not."
EXT. OUTSIDE SALOON
Dean looked at the pile of ash and bones with the Sheriff's badge on top. "Great. Who's the Sheriff now?"
Elkins pinned the badge on Dean.
Dean frowned. "What. What..."
"Now... Congratulations, Sheriff," Elkins told him.
INT. SAMUEL COLT'S HOUSE
Samuel Colt sat at his desk, drinking. "Ahh."
Two men entered and one of the men asked, "Samuel Colt?"
"You have the wrong drunk, gentlemen. Have a nice day."
"We've been looking for you, Colt."
"And who might "we" be?"
The two men's eyes flashed black; they were demons.
"Listen... I've long since hung it up. I'm tired, and I'm too damn old for this, and I'm sure as hell not looking for any trouble."
"Well, it's found you anyway. We know you built that Devil's Gate, Colt. So you're gonna open it for us. That is, if you fancy keeping your lungs in your chest."
"Walk away, gentlemen."
"Well, I think we'd rather rip you to ribbons, you soft-"
Samuel pulled out the Colt, and shot the two demons. They fell to the floor and died. He peered over his desk at the shattered bottle of whiskey on the floor. "Ah, that's a shame. A damn shame."
INT. HOUSE - DEPUTY'S ROOM
The Deputy was packing his suitcase and heard a knock. "Who's there?"
Dean, in a high-pitched voice, said, "Candygram for Mongo."
The Deputy opened the door and Dean greeted, "Howdy, pilgrim."
"I ain't no pilgrim," the Deputy replied.
"All right, back up." He gestured at the Deputy's gun and showed the Deputy his new Sheriff's badge. "Is that any way to, uh... Greet your new boss?" The Deputy scoffed. "Missed you at the posse this morning. I was a one-man wolf pack, thanks to you." He looked at the Deputy's suitcase. "What's going on here?"
"Going to visit my sister."
"Well, she'll have to wait."
"But if I don't-"
"Finch said he was coming back for the former Sheriff... Judge Mortimer... and you. That's two down and one to go."
"Then just let me go!"
"You really think you can outrun him? He is going to kill you. Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless we gank him first."
""Gank"? What's "gank"? Mister, you're crazy. No way. You're on your own."
"I'm not asking you to throw down with him. I'm asking you to play your part."
"My part?"
"Yeah. Bait."
INT. SAMUEL COLT'S HOUSE
Sam and Francesca opened Samuel's door and peered inside and called, "Hello?"
Samuel threw holy water on Sam and Francesca.
"Okay, not a demon!" Sam cried. "Not a demon! Just -- just hunters. Sheesh."
"You're what?"
"You Samuel Colt? My name is Sam Winchester. This is Frankie Rivera. We're -- we're hunters from the year 2011."
"Prove it."
Sam handed Samuel his BlackBerry. Samuel looked at it and headed back to his desk.
"All right." He placed Sam's BlackBerry behind his desk on the bookshelf.
Sam frowned. "All right? That's it? You got nothing else?"
"Well, when you've done this job as long as I have... a giant from the future with some black magic bricks doesn't exactly give you the vapors."
"We need your help killing a Phoenix," Francesca told him.
"A Phoenix? They exist?"
"Well, you shoot one in about three hours."
"If you say so."
"I don't. You do," Sam replied as he handed Samuel Colt's journal to its owner.
Samuel looked at the two journals laying on top of each other. "That's... I'm either too drunk or not drunk enough. So what is it I'm about to exactly do?"
"Well, the Phoenix is in Sunrise, so, uh, if we leave now, you can-"
"I appreciate your situation, but I'm not gonna be of any help to you two. I'm booked."
"Right, but -- but you say right here-"
"Don't believe everything that you read."
Francesca frowned. "But you're a hunter."
"Retired."
"There's no such thing."
"I'm out."
"Look, for what it's worth, in his and my time, you're a hero."
"Me?" Samuel questioned.
"Yes, sir."
Samuel laughed.
Sam continued. "Now, look, we -- we need to kill this Phoenix. Its ashes are the only thing that can kill the monster I'm hunting. So stow your crap for a few hours, and let's go. We need to go now. So, either you're coming with us, or we need the gun."
"What gun?"
"The gun."
"Oh, that gun. I lost it in a game of Stud."
"You're lying," Francesca said.
"Am I?" Samuel laughed. "Now, that doesn't sound like me."
"You shot a couple of demons with it less than an hour ago."
"How do you figure?"
She pointed toward the door. "Two sets of bootprints. Cabin stinks of sulfur."
Samuel nodded. "Not bad." He opened his jacket so Sam could see the Colt in his holster. "You don't want it. It's a curse. Believe me."
"Great. Then let us take it off your hands."
"You two go put on a few more miles and come back, and we'll talk."
"Trust us, we've got plenty of mileage."
"I'm doing you a favor. Believe me."
"So, what?" Sam asked. "You can really just sit there?"
"I've given my whole life to this. I'm done."
"So it doesn't matter what happens."
"No, it doesn't."
"So everything you did, it all means nothing? Give us the gun."
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE
Bobby's timer showed one hour left.
Castiel sat up and exhaled sharply.
"Cas, you -- you like went 12 rounds with truckasaurus. What happened?" Bobby asked.
"I was, uh... I was betrayed," Castiel lied. "Rachel, uh... Raphael... He corrupted her. She turned on me."
"Sorry. Girl's a real... peach."
"She's... dead. I... was wounded. I needed... safety. Thank you." He tried to get up from the couch, coughed and grunted; Bobby pushed him back down.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey. What's with the finger painting?"
"It's a warding symbol against angels."
"How bad's it hurt?"
"I'll heal."
"Well, good... 'Cause we got less than an hour before you pick up the kids at Frontierland."
"I can't."
Bobby frowned. "Come again?"
"This fight... Drained me."
"Well, if you're up on blocks, then call in another halo who can get the job done."
"I can't."
"You must've seriously pissed her off. Well, there's got to be something that can juice you up. A spell -- something."
"There is one thing that might work, but... it's extremely dangerous."
"Shocker. So, lay it on me."
"It's your soul."
"What do you want me to do? Make another deal? Seal it with a kiss?"
"I need you to let me touch it."
"Touch it?"
"The human soul -- it's pure... energy. If I can siphon some of that off, I-I might be able to bring Sam, Francesca and Dean back."
"And the catch is...?"
"Doing this is like... putting your hand in a nuclear reactor. I have to do it very gingerly."
"Or...?"
"Or you'll explode."
"Well. Keep both hands on the wheel. Let's do this."
"Yeah... Just... Just please don't explode me."
INT. JAIL
Dean glanced at the clock nervously. "Never been late in your damn life, Sam, Frankie, and now you're dragging ass."
The Deputy from the jail cell said, "So this is your big plan, huh? Just let me rot in here till Finch comes?"
"Pretty much. Why's he gunning for you, anyway?"
"I guess you missed the part where we hung him?"
"No, I'm thinking to a thing like Finch, that's no big whoop. He would've just blown town, but he came back. That seems personal."
"I'll tell you what -- you let me out of here, and we'll talk."
Dean clicked his tongue. "No can do."
Elias entered. "Open up that cell."
"Open it yourself. You melt people's faces off. I'll bet you got the juice to tear that apart easy, don't you? Unless you can't. Just like you couldn't break those cuffs when they strung you up." He threw the iron nail he was holding at Elias, who caught it by reflex.
"Aah." He dropped the nail and his hand smoldered.
"Iron shackles... iron bars, iron nail. See a pattern? Don't worry. Most creatures I meet can't get it up for iron. It's a common monster problem."
"So you're a hunter."
"Slash Sheriff."
"You know what this son of a bitch did?"
"Do tell."
"I was married to a woman. Good woman -- human. We lived outside of town, didn't bother anyone."
"Sure, freak with a heart of gold."
"You want to call me "monster," fine. But all we did was go into town. I go into the bank for five minutes. I come out, she's gone. And then I heard her scream." He exhaled sharply. "This... man had her pinned in the alley. I go to stop him, he pulls his gun, shoots me, then her. She died in my arms. 'Course, I don't die. The shots brought the Sheriff. Next thing I know, I'm in iron. That's why I want him just where he is -- trapped, scared. I saved the best for last."
Dean looked to the Deputy. "Is that true?"
"So tell me -- are you really willing to die to protect this piece of filth?"
"Honestly, I could care less about him. He's a dick and a coward."
"Hey!" the Deputy cried.
"But this ain't about him. I know what you are."
"Really?" Elias questioned.
"Yeah. So... I got to kill you."
"Well, if you know what I am, then you know you can't."
Elias grabbed the Deputy's gun from where his holster hung on the wall and shot the Deputy.
"Wow, I should've seen that coming."
Dean jumped through the window and ran from Elias, who was firing at him.
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
Dean ran and hid from Elias.
"Dean!" Sam and Francesca called.
"Sam, Frankie, come on, come on!" Dean yelled as they appeared. "Hey, where's Colt?"
"He's not coming," Sam replied.
"What?!"
"But he sent this." Sam handed Dean the Colt.
"Ohh. Hello, beautiful."
"All right."
"Come on."
"Yeah."
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
The timer showed two minutes left.
"Are you sure?" Castiel asked.
"Well, we can't just strand those idjits in Deadwood, can we?" Bobby questioned.
"The risks..."
"Just... please don't explode me."
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
Dean walked onto the main road. "Get out here, Finch!"
Sam and Francesca, who were hiding around the corner, asked, "What are you doing?!"
"Come on! Let's do this!"
"So, this is how you want to die," Elias commented. "Fine." He walked to the road and faced Dean.
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Castiel stuck his arm inside of Bobby and siphoned off some energy from Bobby's soul. Bobby screamed. There was a minute left on the timer.
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
Dean and Elias waited for the clock to strike 12 and shot. Dean hit Elias and Elias died, shocked. He burst into flames and left behind a pile of ashes.
"Yippee-ki-yay, mother..." Dean said.
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Castiel's eyes lit up.
EXT. SUNRISE, WYOMING
Sam and Francesca noticed the clock showed noon and cried, "Dean! The ashes!"
Sam, Francesca and Dean ran toward the ashes.
INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Sam, Francesca and Dean appeared in Bobby's house. Dean's bottle was empty.
Dean turned to Castiel. "You gotta send us back."
"Dean, look at him. He's fried," Sam said.
"I never want to do that again," Castiel told them.
"Bobby, you-" Dean began.
"I'm still kickin' Annie Oakley," Bobby replied. "Be back good as new in... A decade or two."
"And we screwed the pooch," Dean said. "Bobby, I'm sorry."
There was a knock on the door. Sam went to answer. There was a delivery man from Western Couriers holding a package.
"Is there a Sam Winchester here?" the Wester Courier Delivery Man asked.
"Who's asking?" Sam questioned.
"Look, this is nuts -- me and a couple guys made a bet. So... this thing's been laying around the office since... ever?! Uh, with a note saying to bring it here today. It's from a-a Samuel Colt?"
Sam's eyes widened and he replied, "Yeah. Yeah, yeah, that's -- that's mine. Great. Thanks." Sam grabbed the ashes and closed the door. "Thanks."
"Yeah."
Sam brought the package over and set it on the desk. He opened it and read the letter inside. ""Dear Sam, I got this address and date off your thingamajig, and I thought the enclosed might come in handy. Regards, Samuel Colt.""
Sam pulled a bottle of ashes from the package.
"Is that what I think it is?" Bobby and Francesca asked.
"Ashes of a Phoenix," Dean noted. "You know what this means?"
"Yeah, I didn't get a "soulonoscopy" for nothing," Bobby said.
"Yes. And... it means we take the fight to her."