Back on Death’s Holiday, Tessa is giving Dean a little Death 101.
Tessa: When people die, they’ll have questions for you. It’s part of the gig. Suck it up.
They come upon a robbery in progress at a little convenience store. A white man is holding a gun on an ethnic cashier and his son, demanding the cash in the drawer (which the cashier is shakily pulling out while trying to keep his son close to him and protected). The robber says he’ll shoot the kid if the cashier doesn’t hurry up.
Dean wants to know who they’re there for—instinctively wanting to interrupt and stop this. Tessa puts a hand on his arm and reminds him they can’t be seen or heard and tells him to just let it play out. The cashier takes advantage of the robber’s distraction at one point and grabs a gun, shooting him. Dean walks up to the man who is choking on his own blood.
Dean: He’s in agonizing pain, right?
Tessa (puzzled): Yes.
Dean: Give me a minute.
He pauses, then touches the guy. The man’s spirit is standing with them, looking down on himself.
Bad guy: Why?
Dean: Mostly because you’re a dick. Enjoy the ride down, pal. Trust me. Sauna gets hot.
Tessa takes him away. Next they come across a large man in a suit eating pizza.
Dean: Call me crazy, but this smells like a heart attack.
Which…is exactly what happens. Dean touches him and the man asks Dean why.
Dean: Think maybe it was the extra cheese?
Guy: Yeah. (pause) It was good, though.
Dean: Was it a local place?
Tessa (exasperated): Dean.
Dean (chagrined): Right. Sorry. Time to go, man.
Guy: Tell me…what does it all mean?
Dean, eyes darting slightly as he searches his mind for something plausible and non-morbid, says, “Everything is dust in the wind.”
Guy: That’s it? A Kansas song??
Dean kinda shrugs with his face.
Meanwhile, Sam returns to Bobby’s saying he’s just been driving around. Bobby offers him a drink. Annnnnd cue the most uncomfortable visit in the history of ever.
Dean and Tessa are at a hospital and enter a room where a 12 year old girl has a serious heart condition. She’s sitting on the bed, oxygen cannula in her nose, looking through a picture album with her father. The father-daughter connection just about did me in for multiple reasons. Dean’s eyes travel the room—pausing for a moment on the nurse and her name badge, which made me think something was going to happen to her right then—and asks who they’re there for. The girl.
Dean turns away. Tessa tells him that he has to take her. Death says so. Dean wants to know who tells Death. Tessa says it’s destiny.
Dean: I spent my whole life fighting that crap. There’s no such thing as destiny—just like there was no Apocalypse. It’s just a bunch of stuck-up mooks who didn’t want us human slaves asking questions. So I say, the little girl lives.
Tessa: You know what’s actually amazing is that you don’t buy a word you’re saying.
Dean (eyebrows folding in): Yes, I do.
Tessa: Oh, really? So all the times you messed with life and death it just worked out for you?
Dean’s eyes flash slightly and the expression in them jabbed me. A slew of memories crossed his face in the glimmer of a second.
Dean: I know this much. I’m Death. She’s 12 and she’s not dying today.
Back at Bobby’s, Sam and Bobby are playing poker. Thank goodness we didn’t stay there long, because their tension was sucking the air from the room.
As Dean and Tessa watch, we see that the little girl’s heart was miraculously healed. The nurse, Jolene, who was supposed to have assisted in her surgery, is calling home—and walks through Tessa, getting a chill.
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