Balty wants to know why they’re all worked up about all of this.
Sam: Someone is killing the survivors…which is like 50,000 people.
Dean: And we need to save as many as we can—need to know who or what is after them.
Balty: Unlike the other angel, the one in the dirty trench coat who is in love with you, I. Don’t. Care.
And with that, he’s gone.
Dean: Son of a BITCH!
Ah, how I’ve missed that expletive.
The boys (I’ll just carry on the theme) sit side-by-side on the bed to speak-phone Bobby and share the news. Bobby says that it makes sense because he’s been able to figure out that they’re up against one of the Fates.
Sam: Like…Greek mythology? Like the sisters?
Hee. The shut up…no you shut up looks they tossed each other was adorable.
Bobby tells them that the Fates spin your fate on a thread of gold and then “writes it down in her day planner of death.” He says that the easiest thing to do would be to get Balty to go back and sink that ship. Dean’s reply of “NO!” is immediate.
Bobby: There’s a big difference between dying and having been born, Dean.
Dean is adamant that they are Not. Sinking. That. Boat.
Bobby: What’s got your panties in a clench?
Dean exchanges a look with Sam before replying with the most unconvincing, “Nothing,” in the history of ever.
Bobby: Try that again.
Dean (his voice shaking as it does when he has to force sound past the emotion lodged in his throat): Apparently…a crapload of dominoes get tipped over if the Titanic goes down and…bottom line…Ellen and Jo die.
Bobby looks stunned. Like can’t take it all in stunned. His eyes track to a photo of him and Ellen in front of a sign reading B&E Scrap Yard.
Bobby: You two listen up. You make sure you keep those angels from sinking that boat. You understand me?
Dean and Sam scramble to answer a very affirmative, “Yes. Of course.”
Left with no freakin’ clue how to save 50,000 people, Dean figures the best place to start is with Russo the lawyer who kicked him out of his office. So, again some time later, they’re sitting in the MUSTANG watching for Russo to emerge from his office. Spying him heading out jabbering on his cell phone, they start to follow, Dean calling Russo’s name. Meanwhile, barreling down a side alley is a man sipping a cup of coffee. Russo walking and talking, boys follow calling, van barreling toward road…you can see where this is going, right?
The van guy dumps his coffee in his lap and looks down just as Russo finally hears Dean call his name and pauses to turn. He’s narrowly saved from being a van hood ornament by one of the boys grabbing him out of the way—I couldn’t tell which one, but Sam helps him up off the ground. Before the boys can do anything, Russo is backing away—into the street—telling them to stay away and they’re lucky he doesn’t sue…and suddenly KER-SPLAT.
He’s totally flattened by a speeding bus…ironically bearing a very large ad with his name and legal services. Now, a man getting smushed and leaving a liberal red stain and one lone shoe on the pavement is NOT funny. It’s not.
But the boys’ faces—their reactions, especially Sam’s expression of I can’t believe that just freakin’ happened was…well, it was Boondock Saints cat-scene funny. I know, I know. I’m a terrible, awful person. But…I kinda laughed.
Dean, bless him, sees the ad for the lawyer on the back of the bus and his lips quirk up as he points it out to Sam.
Dean: Too soon?
Sam: Yeah, Dean. I think six seconds is definitely too soon.
As police sirens sound in the distance approaching the accident site, Sam is looking around and spies a blonde in black-framed (too-large-for-her-face) glasses peering from a window in a closed up restaurant. He tells Dean he thinks he saw her. As in Fate, her. Honestly, that was a leap for me. How the heck did Sam know this one random blonde at an accident scene was Fate? *hand waves*
Dean: What did she look like?
Sam: A…librarian, actually.
Dean: Your kind of librarian or my kind of librarian?
Sam (after a pause and the Little Brother Head Tilt Of Patience): Well, she was wearing clothing if that’s what you mean.
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