Supernatural s08e12 Episode Script

As Time Goes By

I think dad wants us to pick up where he left off -- saving people, hunting things the family business.
We have to carry out his legacy.
Aah! It's a bloodline.
It's in your blood, your father's blood, your family's blood.
I like that John kid.
You do? Yeah, I think you two were meant to be.
Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester -- very big deal upstairs -- top-priority arrangement.
Are you saying that you fixed up our parents? The orders were very clear.
You and Sam needed to be born.
Your parents were just meant to be.
This book.
This is dad's single most valuable possession.
Everything he knows about every evil thing is in here.
And he's passed it on to us.
How many people do you think dad saved? That's his legacy.
So we got to keep going.
Hey, sport.
Sorry about that.
Where are you going? Work.
I just wanted to check on you before I left.
What's that, pops? One day, I'll tell you all about it.
Now get some shut-eye.
See you first thing in the morning.
[ Music box playing "As Time Goes By" .]
Good night, son.
Good evening, sir.
Josie.
No one told me this initiation was a formal affair.
Well, someone had to class up the joint, right, Henry? Ain't that the truth? The hard part's over, right? We made it.
Ms.
Sands? Secura tibi facias libertate.
Servire, te rogamus, audi nos! Henry.
Do not let Abbadon get it.
That's impossible! How? Kah-nee-lah Poo-goh.
Kah-nee-lah Poo-goh.
Kah-nee-lah Poo-goh.
Which of you is John Winchester? Please, time is of the essence! Which of you is John Winchester? Uh, neither.
That's impossible.
That's absolutely What did I do wrong? Who the hell are you, mister? Not now.
I'm thinking.
Please.
I can assure you there's no need for violence.
One of you must know John Winchester.
I'll tell you what -- when one of us falls out of your closet, then you can ask the questions.
Yes, my apologies.
Is it absolutely essential, sir, that you keep your hands on me? Thank you.
Gentlemen, in the absence of any and all other explanations, I'm afraid this has been a marvelous, tragic misunderstanding.
I'll be on my way.
That's not happening.
There are things of grave importance.
I do not have time to deal with the likes of you.
You're not going anywhere, till we get some answers.
How did he do that? You got to be kidding me! My God.
Guess the Mayans were wrong.
Nice taste in wheels.
Yours, I presume? And there with the holy water.
He's clean.
I could have told you that.
Yeah, well, you can start by telling us everything before I beat it out of you.
I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend.
And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.
Let me tell you what I understand! Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride.
So why am I not getting violent, again? John Winchester is your father? What is that? Oh, my God.
What? Run! Henry.
Silly man, you forgot to lock the door.
But then spells never were your best subject, were they? Why don't you be a doll and give me what I want? And I promise to kill you and your friends here quickly.
You know I can't do that.
You're not a fighter, Henry.
Josie.
I know you're still in there.
You must fight this.
I'm afraid Josie's indisposed, Pet.
It looks like it's just you and me.
Ohh! Aah! Well, that is no way to treat a lady.
Go, go, go, go, go, go! Hey! Hey! Hey! You okay, lady? What the hell are you doing? Show me what you've seen.
Thank you.
By the way, I'm checking out.
Are you okay? Yes, I will be.
It's just all the adventures I enjoy are usually of the literary nature.
Yeah, well, now that you're done blowing chunks, you want to tell us who Betty Crocker was? Abbadon.
She's a demon.
No kidding.
Where'd she come from? Where'd you come from? She's from hell.
I'm from Normal, Illinois -- Yeah, right.
Seriously? Dude's time traveling through motel-room closets? That's what we've come to? If you could just take me to John, we could clear all this up, I'm sure.
I've told you that's not gonna happen.
Why not? Because he's dead! No.
What's it to you? Everything.
I'm his father.
Driver's license says he's Henry Winchester from Normal, Illinois.
He knows dad's birthday, the exact place where he was born.
Dude, that's our grandfather.
I'm just saying before we break out the warm and toasties, let's not forget that, uh, H.
G.
Wells over there left dad high and dry when he was a kid.
But maybe he didn't run out on dad -- I mean, not on purpose.
Maybe he time-traveled here and, I don't know, got stuck.
Yeah, well, either way, dad hated the son of a bitch.
And dad made up for that how? By being father of the year? Here you go.
Thanks.
Look, dad had his issues, okay, but he was always there for us.
I freaking hate time-travel, man.
How you doing? I'll be fine.
After all, despite everything, I've just met my grandsons, haven't I? Henry Winchester.
It's a pleasure.
Sam.
Hello, Sam.
Dinner.
This is Dean.
Right.
Well, this has been touching.
How about we figure out how to clean up your mess, huh? Abbadon.
Yes.
She must be stopped.
And how come she didn't die when I stabbed her? Because demons can't be killed by run-of-the-mill cutlery.
At the very least, you'd need an ancient demon-killing knife of the Kurds.
That's what this is.
Where'd you get that? Demon gave it to me.
We've been around this block so many times.
Now, that portal or whatever it was you came through -- is it still open? I highly doubt it.
Why? I'm just thinking if we can't kill this Abbadon Maybe we can shove her back where she came from.
How did you do it? It's a blood Sigil.
Blood leads to blood.
Or their next of kin.
But Abbadon came through it, also, right? So can you create this blood Sigil again? My blood, an angel feather, tears of a dragon, a pinch of the sands of time -- I-I would need those and At least a week for my soul to recharge, but, yes, it's possible.
You tapped the power of your soul to get here? I thought only angels could do that.
You should know this.
What level are you two? What level? Level of knowledge.
You're Men of Letters, correct? I'm a little rusty on my boy bands.
Men of what? Men of Letters, like your father, who taught you our ways.
Our father taught us how to be hunters.
You're not.
Are you? Hunters? Well, hunters are Hunters are apes.
You're supposed to -- you're legacies.
Legacies of what? What's going on here? No.
All right, well, this was enlightening.
Let's hit the road, huh? Give him a minute, Dean.
We just spent four hours driving, okay? All he did was stare out the window and request Pat Boone on the radio.
He had his time.
It's just a facade, a way to rook our enemies into believing we are housed elsewhere.
Okay, enough with the decoder talk.
How about you tell us what this whole Men-of-Letters business is, or you're on your own? It's none of your concern.
Why, because we're hunters? What do you have against us? Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don't-bother-to- ask-questions-later part, not much, really.
You know what? Wait a second.
We're also John's children.
You're more than that, actually.
My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters.
As John and you two should have been.
We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand.
We share our findings with a few trusted hunters -- the very elite.
They do the rest.
So you're like Yodas to our Jedis.
Never mind.
You'll get there.
Okay, but if you guys were such a big deal, then why haven't we -- or anyone we know -- ever heard of you? Abbadon.
Henry.
Why? Why'd she do it? I think for this.
Okay, what's that? I wish I knew.
Abbadon attacked us the night of my final initiation.
All secrets were to be revealed then.
Let me get this straight.
You traveled through time to protect something that does you don't know what from a demon that you know nothing about? Good.
Hand me your walkie-talkie.
You mean my phone? Even better.
Operator, I need Delta 457.
Who are you not calling? Our emergency number.
Yeah.
Not anymore.
They can't all be gone.
There must be another elder out there who can help us figure out how to stop Abbadon and what to do with the box.
Hey, uh, hi.
Can we hijack your computer for a hot second? Like you could fit a computer in this room.
Sure.
Thanks.
Sam.
Yep.
All right, um give me a name -- anybody who, uh, might have been there that night -- one of those elders.
UmAckers, David.
Larry Ganem.
Um, Ted -- Okay, here it is.
Um, August 12, 1958.
A tragic fire at a gentlemen's club.
Uh, 242 Gaines Street.
This is But that was no fire.
Larry Ganem, David Ackers, Ted Bowen, and Albert Magnus -- all deceased.
Albert Magnus.
He a friend of yours? Even better.
These were my friends, my mentors, our last defense against the Abbadons of the world.
Here's your buddy Albert Magnus.
Albertus Magnus.
And he was hardly a buddy.
He was the greatest alchemist of the middle ages.
Okay, so why is he buried here? He's not.
His was the alias we'd use when going incognito.
I believe someone planted his name in that article so that if a man of letters came looking for answers, he'd know something was amiss.
So someone wanted you to come to this grave.
The question is why.
What is this? Our crest.
The Aquarian Star, representing great magic and power.
They say it stood at the gates of Atlantis itself.
Hmm.
It's on all the tombstones except for this one -- uh, Larry Ganem.
The Haitian symbol for speaking to the dead.
This is the message.
You boys ever exhume a body? Love what you've done with the place.
Wrong night.
"Carrie" screening's on Sunday.
I dig your costume, though.
What are you doing? Show me what you've seen.
Can we hijack your computer? Give me a name.
Ackers, David.
Larry Ganem.
Tragic fire.
That was no fire.
Albert Magnus.
Thanks.
Please don't hurt me! I like your top.
Tell me how we got stuck doing this? Hey, was, uh, Larry a World War I vet? No.
Well, then, who's the stiff? No idea.
Captain Thomas J.
Carey III.
That mean anything to you? Well, somebody wanted you to see this, so maybe that somebody is Larry.
So, what, maybe he, uh, survives the attack and hides out with this guy's identity? Okay.
What are we waiting for, then? Cover this up.
Let's be on our way.
What is that? I know that tune.
"As Time Goes By.
" I hope so.
It's from "Casablanca.
" Right.
Dad used to whistle it from time to time.
Your father saw "Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy" at the drive-in one night.
It scared the beeswax out of him.
So I got him this little music box that played that song to help him sleep at night.
It worked like a charm.
Wow, it's hard to believe dad was ever scared of anything.
Hey, uh, according to county records, Tom Carey lives in Lebanon, Kansas, and is a very happy I say we get some shut-eye, head over first thing in the morning.
Wait, wait, wait.
Listen to this.
According to dad's journal, he once tortured a demon that said he made his bones working for Abbadon, who, it turns out, is a Knight of Hell.
What does that even mean? Knights of Hell are hand-picked by Lucifer himself.
They are of the first-fallen, first-born demons.
So very pure, very strong.
Legend has it that Archangels had killed all of them, which, as we have witnessed, is not the case.
Unless she's the last of her kind.
You say that belonged to your father? Yeah.
May I? It's a hunter's journal.
I assume Men of Letters -- you use journals, too? I intended to.
I sent away for one the day before my initiation.
As a matter of fact, judging by my initials here, this one, I believe.
That was yours? It must have arrived after I'm beginning to gather I don't make it back from this time, do I? We don't know for sure.
All we do know is that dad never saw you again.
What did he think happened to me? He thought you ran out on him.
John was a legacy.
I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters.
Well, he learned things a little differently.
How? The hard way.
Surviving a lonely childhood a stinking war only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon and later killed by one himself.
That man got a bum rap around every turn.
But you know what? He kept going.
And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.
I'm sorry.
I wish I had been there for him.
Yeah, it's a little late for that now, don't you think? It's the price we pay for upholding great responsibility.
We know that.
Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club! I was a legacy.
I had no choice.
Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
Hey.
Wake up! What? What?! Henry -- he's gone.
Where is he? No idea.
He just left a note saying he was gonna fix everything.
Yeah, or screw it all up.
All right.
Satnam.
Welcome, traveler.
What can I help you with? I can use a tear of a dragon and a pinch of the sands of time, but don't bother wrapping it up.
I'll be using it right away.
We don't carry those things here.
But can I interest you in some kava root? It's great for anxiety.
In your window -- hunters' signs.
I know who you are and what you are.
Now give me what I need so I can be on my way.
I agree.
You should be going, stranger.
I understand.
You don't know me, so you're reluctant to sell to me.
Fine.
But please let me purchase some chamomile for my restless nights before I go.
Bah-rah-gah-doh.
Sleep well.
Now we know what he meant by "fix everything.
" What? He broke in to the trunk, stole an angel feather.
I'm guessing he's gonna whip up another one of those blood spells and Marty McFly himself back to the 1950s.
To do what? Stop Abbadon before she strikes? Or grab dad and haul ass.
Look, point is he's doing it.
How? He still needs two ingredients for the spell.
Unless Unless there's some place nearby that sells real hoodoo.
I'll call Garth.
All units, possible homicide at Astro Comics.
Location Hey.
Hmm? It just hit the wires -- one dead at Astro Comics.
Abbadon? Yeah, has to be.
Okay, so she's close.
I'll go find Henry.
You find Larry.
Figure out how to kill this chick.
So, Henry is dead.
I was so sure that -- that he had survived.
Yes, well, um, like I said -- I found his journal and was hoping you could fill in the gaps and explain to me what happened that night in 1958.
It doesn't matter.
They're gone.
We're gone.
But Abbadon is not.
Abbadon was a hired gun.
She killed us all that one night.
Everyone but you.
She blinded me.
It's a miracle I survived.
It's okay, dear.
But she did not get what she came for.
The box.
Listen, Abbadon is here, and she wants this thing.
So I need to know everything there is to know about it.
In the box is the key to every object, scroll, spell ever collected for thousands of years under one roof.
It is the supernatural mother lode.
Poo-goh.
Kah-nee-lah.
Henry, wait! This is a risk I have to take.
And what if you die, huh? Who said you'll even survive a jump? You cannot begin to understand how I felt after reading John's journal.
Oh, I think I can.
See, I've read that thing more times than you can imagine, and it hurts every time.
Maybe so, but you didn't let him down! I did! Just like you said! Well, I was wrong.
No! No, you were right.
And I'm going to go back and give him the life he deserves, not the one he was forced to live.
What if it's not meant to be? Then it will be! How can you be so sure? Because it's the right thing to do! I can save him and stop Abbadon! How? By going back an hour before she attacks and making preparations.
If you do that and you change the past, me and Sam might cease to exist! I'm aware that time is a delicate mistress, but I'm willing to bet on this being for the best.
I understand that this is not your idea of a happy ending, okay, and that you're disappointed that me and Sam are mouth-breathing hunters.
But you know what? We stopped the Apocalypse.
If this works the way I planned, there will never be an Apocalypse to stop.
So Abbadon wants the key so she can get her hands on it.
Can you imagine what she would do with that? So, how do we stop her? How do we stop Abbadon? You don't.
If you know where the key is, then take it to these coordinates.
Throw it in.
Shut the door forever.
And walk away.
Wait, w-why would I do that? Because it is the safest place on earth, warded against any evil ever created.
It is impervious to any entry, except the key.
Right, but then all that knowledge would be -- would be lost and gone forever.
And that is the price we have to pay for keeping it away from Abbadon.
You do have the key, don't you? I don't, um But, uh, my brother my brother does.
How rude.
You haven't finished your tea, Sam.
Abbadon.
The years have not been kind, Larry.
Sammy? No.
Much sexier.
Try again.
Abbadon.
Good boy.
Now listen up -- I want to make a good, old-fashioned horse trade.
Henry and the key for your brother.
Or he dies.
Am I clear? Crystal.
On the road to Larry's, there's a processing plant.
Don't keep me waiting.
Abbadon has Sam? She wants to trade you and the key for Sam's life.
If I could just go back, stop this all from happening.
And what if you can't? I can't take that risk -- not with Sammy on the hook now.
I can't abandon my son, Dean! Not again! I need to do this.
I'm sorry.
Kah-nee-lahPoo-goh.
Well, I'm sorry, too.
Sorry about that.
No, you're not.
You've wanted to do that since we met.
Henry, you need to understand something.
When my dad died, I couldn't save him no matter how bad I wanted to.
I never want that to happen to Samever.
If there's a chance that I can save him, I'm gonna do it.
He's my brother.
He's the only family I got.
Don't do it, Dean.
Too late for that now.
That's the problem with you hunters.
You're all short-sighted.
Yeah, at least we're not extinct.
Abbadon! I'll send Henry here over with the box.
You do the same with Sam.
No tricks.
My only interest is Henry and the key.
You two are free to go.
You can do this standing, or you can do it crawling.
Your call.
Henry, I'm sorry.
Save it.
Don't do this, Dean.
This is a bad idea.
Shut your mouth.
Let's go.
Come on.
We had a deal! Surprise.
I lied.
Henry! Wait.
Wait.
Ohh! You're not the only one.
I'm gonna do it.
He's my brother.
He's the only family I got.
So, what are you thinking? Can you slow Abbadon down? Because if you can, I'll do the rest.
Whoo! What a blast.
Now, give me the box.
Where is it?! Okay.
We can do this the hard way.
Why am I stuck?! A devil's trap carved into the bullet.
You're gonna have to get close.
And "close" means it could get ugly.
I know.
But you do that for blood.
You still didn't kill me.
No, but you'll wish we did.
The demon trap in your noggin is gonna keep you from smoking out.
We're gonna cut you into little steaks and bury each strip under cement.
You might not be dead, but you'll wish you were.
We did it.
No, you did it.
For a bookworm, that wasn't bad, Henry.
I'm sorry I judged you two so harshly for being hunters.
I should have known better.
About? You're also Winchesters.
As long as we're alive, there's always hope.
I didn't know my son as a man, but having met you two I know I would have been proud of him.
I get it now.
Hmm? What Cupid said about heaven busting ass to get mom and dad together.
The Winchesters and the Campbells -- the brains and the brawn.
Well, I'm glad you see it.
All I see in our family tree is a whole lot of dead.
Hey, I, uh Found this in Henry's wallet.
Dad looks happy.
Kind of makes you wish he knew the truth, huh? I mean, all those years thinking his old man ditched when the poor son of a bitch really came here and saved our bacon.
Freaking time-travel, man.
You think it would have made a difference? What? Dad.
If he'd had his own father around.
What, in how he raised us? Sammy, he did the best he could.
I know that.
I-I do.
They all did.
What are the chances that place is still standing? A chance we've got to take, I guess.
I mean, we are legacies, right? [ Music box playing "As Time Goes By" .]