Thirteen: Nine Lives
11.38p.m. April 14th 1912
Orlap Deck – Cargo Hold 3
McGarry took a step over the metal plating at his feet,
ever mindful not to trip on the lip of the open watertight
door. He didn’t normally mind wandering around
in the bowels of sea-going vessels – in fact,
in his younger days he had spent many a month at sea
aboard the older wooden clipper ships.
Titanic wasn’t anything like those sea horses.
To the Irishman, she felt like a huge metal coffin that
had no business afloat. The stuffy, damp cargo hold
did little to quell his fears.
was dark in the belly of this beast, and with the darkness
came a strange foreboding that reminded him why his
grandmother went to church every Sunday.
are things we don’t understand, Dermot. Things
we should be mindful not to mess with.”
was what Old Ma McGarry had warned him, and tonight,
Dermot Andrew McGarry was wishing he had listened to
he and his companion, Patrick Dooley had decided to
sneak into the cargo hold on what could only be a wild
goose chase. But still, men in their position could
hardly turn away the chance of easy money.
and Dooley both wore ragged wool jackets that were worn
and tattered at the cuffs, and from the smell, hadn’t
been washed in months. Their appearance and lack of
cleanliness gave away their need for cash.
their fare on the Titanic had been subsidized by ill-gotten
gains at a poker game in a local pub before boarding.
tell ya, we’re just chasin’ our tails, Dooley.”
McGarry had no sooner entered the hold than he was glancing
over his shoulder, eyes darting back into the corridor
he’d just departed in fear of being caught by
some eager White Star Line employee. “And even
if it’s not, you heard what Stead was saying…”
ignored his companion’s pleas, his beady, rat-like
eyes scrutinizing crate after crate in his search for
wealth. If there was a complete opposite to McGarry,
then Dooley was it.
his friend, he too was an Irishman, but he had never
done one single honest day’s work in his life.
Today would be no different.
said there were rare and valuable artifacts down here,
that’s what he said!” There was aggravation
in Dooley’s voice as he rubbed at the abundance
of white whiskers protruding from his chin.
wasn’t certain if the annoyance was aimed at him
for being so afraid, or because Dooley couldn’t
find his prized chest in the plethora secured to the
Dooley’s piercing orbs locked onto a large chest
and his mouth curled into a toothless grin. “Egyptian
gold, man! Imagine the life we could have in the New
World with just a little of it.”
is the word I heard,” McGarry pointed out, his
ears detecting a slight change in the Titanic’s
roaring motors from too many years at sea. “And
I don’t recall anyone actually mentioning the
ignored both the warning and the correction. In fact,
to McGarry it looked like his companion had succumbed
to Klondike gold fever in the space of two seconds.
wiry little Irishman was scurrying around the hold with
little thought of capture, pulling away tarps and other
coverings in search of something with which to pry open
the crate he had found.
Dooley discovered a tire iron that probably belonged
to one of the newfangled motor cars littering the ship’s
held up the metal rod triumphantly and quickly scurried
back to his “find,” the grin on his face
spreading ever-wider until his last few rotting teeth
were on view.
the thinner end of the iron, Dooley began to pry at
the metal spikes holding the chest lid closed, not caring
as the wood began to splinter and groan in protest.
expression began to change, his grandmother’s
warning becoming louder and louder in his head the closer
Dooley got to opening the crate. He took a step backwards,
dread suddenly chilling ever limb in his body.
noticed his friend’s look of fear and spat on
the floor at McGarry’s feet in disgust. “Leave
ya coward, then it’ll be all mine.”
He cursed several expletives under his breath then began
to pry anew.
last, as the nails in the wood finally succumbed, the
top of the crate jarred away with an unearthly grating
unison with the screech of wood on metal came another,
louder yowl that began to fill both men’s ears
as well as the entire hold.
judder seemed to course through the metal plating around
them, and within seconds, rivets popped from their positions
as the Titanic’s hull began to breach.
mouth opened and his jaw became slack as the metal skin
protecting him from the ocean began to rupture before
his eyes, the double-thick plating seeming to buckle
inwards as some unseen, unearthly pressure crushed it
rivets burst from the hull and were replaced by icy
Atlantic water spewing from the holes they had vacated.
The liquid seemed to find every tiny crack and orifice,
pushing through until the hold was awash with white
what you’ve done…will ya look what you’ve
done…” McGarry watched mesmerized as water
swelled around his ankles, stinging his flesh with a
cold that seemed to wrap around his entire body.
should never have come here.
blindly backwards, he could still see Dooley peering
inside the crate like a madman, oblivious to the fact
that he had probably brought the “unsinkable”
Titanic to her doom – their doom.
was what Stead had said about the cargo they had so
reached into the chest he had opened, not even sensing
the water pooling around his lower limbs. He moved a
tatty piece of hessian and his eyes grew even wider
than before until the whites seemed to glow in the dull
the gold? Stead said there were treasures…”
babbling continued as if Dooley had suddenly gone insane.
From the wild expression on his features, McGarry feared
that he had. What in God’s name is in that
it didn’t matter what heathen Egyptian artifacts
they had disturbed. All that really mattered was that
they were going to die for them.
took another blind, panicked step backwards just as
the Titanic seemed to lurch sideways, a nearby steam
pipe rupturing as it tried to cope with a build up in
sudden list knocked the Irishman off balance, and his
footing was lost as a floating piece of luggage drifted
into his path. Arms thrashing wildly, McGarry was unable
to stop his backwards momentum and his body was instantly
skewered by the hissing steam section that had been
exposed only seconds earlier.
screamed, but in the hold, there was no one save a madman
to hear him.
for God’s sake, man…” Blood burbled
from McGarry’s lips as he held an outstretched
hand to his companion, begging to be pulled free of
the metal tubing, but Dooley wouldn’t take his
eyes from inside the crate.
screamed again – this time at the knowledge that
his injury wouldn’t kill him. No, he would remain
impaled, bleeding, in agony until the Atlantic rose
high enough around him to force the oxygen from his
curse the crate had imprisoned – it was now free,
and had already begun its vendetta against mankind.
University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archeology and
Winchester took one look at the building in front of
him and instantly knew why his brother wanted this gig.
place had “Geek Shrine” written all over
it in capital letters.
was so Sammy it was unhealthy.
you really think the deaths are some creepy ass curse?
I mean, c’mon, everyone has them pegged as accidents
or natural causes.” Dean paused in the doorway,
watching his brother squirm the way he always did when
he was focusing too hard on something.
the items in this exhibit haven’t been together
since the seventies. As soon as the display went up,
a security guard on night watch and a curator on the
administration team were killed. I just don’t
think it’s a coincidence.”
pushed through the glass doorway a little too forcefully
and almost barged into a girl exiting the museum. His
face reddened just a touch as he quickly offered an
brow quirked upwards and he smiled as he watched the
failed attempt at contrition from his brother. “You’re
just eager to work this thing because Sarah Blake asked
you to dig around,” Dean teased. “You still
got the hots for that chick, don’t ya, Sasquatch?”
He slapped Sam on the back a little too heartily and
then headed for a vending machine he’d spotted
in the corner.
was good any time of day, and he was already building
up an appetite ribbing his brother. Sliding a coin in
the slot, he waited for a scarlet-cheeked Sam to join
guard who had died had been an old friend and employee
of the Blakes, and Sarah had liked the old-timer a lot.
When the news of his death had reached her and she’d
read what was in one of the displays he was guarding,
it hadn’t taken her long to piece together that
this might be “a Winchester thing.”
in 1976 this very display, item for item, was at the
Metropolitan Museum in New York – at least, until
it was deemed too unlucky to have on show. All told,
there were nine deaths surrounding the museum or the
items in the exhibit,” Sam pushed. “Are
you going to tell me that’s coincidence too?”
cocked his head as a pack of Milk Duds plopped from
the machine. Not exactly M&M’s but they’d
do. “Bad luck?” He offered half-heartedly,
knowing Sam had already won the fight.
glowered. “I think it’s a curse. I think
Sarah is right, and that something among those relics
is causing the deaths every time it’s brought
out of storage.”
opened the packet and stuffed in a mouthful of chocolate.
“So we torch a few antiques and all is well in
the world. Yeah, I can see why the museum here will
go along with that…especially as we’ll probably
have to fry the whole wing ’cause Geekboy doesn’t
know what it is we’re even looking for…”
shoulders dropped and he sighed. “I only got the
call from Sarah last night. It’s not like I’ve
had time to sit in the library doing research. Can we
just check out the display? Then we can go find a motel
and I’ll do my ‘geek’ thing, while
you fill your face some more.”
the motel and food sound good,” Dean conceded,
screwing up the empty chocolate wrapper and tossing
it into a nearby bin. “I mean, it’s not
like I can survive on Milk Duds alone, dude.”
rolled his eyes but gestured towards a doorway at the
end of the lobby area. Waiting patiently by a desk was
a small man whose mustache twitched as he glanced over
his glasses at the brothers.
guessed his interest wasn’t pure curiosity. “You
called ahead, didn’t you? You sneaky sonofa…”
face grew into a wide smile. “Sometimes it does
pay to actually plan something in advance.”
right, ’cause that so always works.”
Dean scrutinized the wiry museum employee as they approached
him, only taking his eyes from the bony little man when
a pretty young woman in a red suit paused to chat with
their contact. “Whoa, now why couldn’t you
have been dealing with the hot chick with the long and
very fine legs instead of Professor Moriarty?”
smile didn’t falter, but he shook his head. “Maybe
because I knew you’d be thinking with your downstairs
brain as usual, and you know where that gets
faltered a second thinking of Mia. While Sam’s
comment hadn’t been directed at his very big mistake
with her, it hurt all the same.
that blunder it was a wonder he could even look at anything
in a skirt ever again – except, or course, Mia
hadn’t been much for skirts anyway.
Dean was Dean.
could never resist someone of the female persuasion
for too long.
they finally reached the end of the lobby, the young
woman, who Dean noted talked with a slight southern
drawl, moved away, sashaying towards a small office
to their left as if she owned the building.
impious eyes followed her until she vanished from sight
and then he refocused on the less interesting man they’d
come to meet. At first glance, he seemed like a typical
museum worker who had little time for real people and
plenty of time for stale-smelling books.
must be Professor Daniels?” Sam extended a hand.
“We’re the history students you’re
expecting from Kansas U.”
beady gaze looked both brothers over from head to toe
and then back again, giving them a somewhat bemused
smile as he took Sam’s offered hand and shook
it. “Ah, yes, the brothers working on the Egyptian
burial methods paper.” He looked briefly over
his shoulder towards the small office. “Sorry
about the interruption. That was my new boss introducing
herself. Unfortunately, the previous administrator met
with an accident recently.”
looked to Sam, sharing an unspoken “Okay, so you
were probably right” before extending a hand of
his own to the professor. “We’re sorry to
hear about that, sir. Thank you for still taking the
time out to give us a tour.”
bobbed his head rapidly up and down like a meerkat and
then held a hand out towards the exhibit rooms. “Oh,
I’ve always time for students.”
the inflection in his voice seemed to infer the complete
opposite, but he strode brusquely through the doorway
anyway, and both brothers soon found they were having
a hard time keeping up with his rapid gait.
believe this display should be of particular interest,”
Daniels oozed with far too much enthusiasm. “We
have both human and animal variants of the mummification
visibly squirmed when he realized several of the carefully
wrapped items in front of him were in fact the preserved
remains of cats and other small creatures. When Daniels
turned away, the elder hunter mouthed “gross”
along with his best scowl before prodding one of the
mummies just to check if it was real.
“cat” felt hard and almost oily to the touch,
but the thing that “squicked” the hunter
the most was the coolness of its exterior. Did all mummies
feel like they’d just been taken out of a freezer?
mummy board is all the way from England,” Daniels
continued. “And to my left, we have an inner coffin
from Cairo, along with granite statues of some of the
more influential gods and goddesses. I’m sure
you recognize Bastet and Ra?”
nodded, and to Dean’s mortification rolled several
other Egyptian deity names off the tip of his tongue
as if he actually was a student of the subject.
Every few steps, Sam stopped to peer closer through
some of the cases, his eyes alive with genuine interest.
so my little brother turned into friggin’ Indiana
Jones when I wasn’t looking…
nudged Sam in the ribs with the point of his elbow.
“Do I gotta start callin’ you Dr. Jackson
eyebrows almost met in the middle as they wrinkled downwards.
think your brother – if he really is your brother
– is referring to the Stargate character
and your similarly over-eager approach to the subject
matter.” Daniels took a handkerchief from his
pocket and dabbed at his face, wiping away beads of
perspiration that had begun to form.
was uneasy – perhaps even a little scared.
the little man looked over his glasses expectantly.
“So why are you really here? You’re certainly
not students…” Daniels folded his arms.
“It’s about those deaths, isn’t it?
I knew that stupid rumor from New York would surface
again after the guard was killed.”
guess we don’t exactly fit the regular student
stereotype too well, huh?” Dean smirked awkwardly
and slid a hand under his jacket. When he retrieved
it, he held a fake P.I. badge that he quickly flashed
at the professor.
don’t fit the stereotype,” Daniels huffed
with an air of sarcasm. “Your brother I will say
is a little more…um…”
Dean finished for him. “He’s one hundred
percent, full-on geek of the week.”
still doesn’t explain why you’re here, detectives
moved between Daniels and his brother, hoping to keep
the conversation on track rather than focusing on his
academic abilities and Dean’s lack of finesse.
He cleared his throat and shot his sibling a look that
said shut up, but probably far less politely.
“We’re being paid by a friend of one of
the deceased to find out what’s really happening
here. Can I ask what you meant by ‘the rumors
from New York?’”
some nonsense about a curse.” Daniels took down
a long, drawn out breath. “The items on display
are just artifacts, nothing more. People believe far
too much hocus pocus when they should look to science
for the answers!”
there any reason people should believe in a
curse? I mean, are there any myths about any of the
items here being cursed or unlucky?” Sam let his
eyes fall across the exhibits around them, but nothing
screamed out to his finely tuned senses.
pupils seemed to narrow at the question, but then he
suddenly began to laugh so hard Dean’s earlier
conclusion that he was a stuffy little ass who had no
sense of humor was shattered.
all Egyptian relics become branded with some kind of
myth or curse. Back in those days it was common practice
to use scare tactics. The pharaohs invented all this
hokum to stop grave robbing, nothing more.”
can you give us any details on the stuff you have here?”
Dean gestured to the exhibit with his thumb. “Any
rumors, curses, that kinda thing? I mean, if we can
prove there really is no curse it has to be good for
the museum, right?”
fidgeted with the small bow tie around his neck, and
for a second Dean thought it was going to start spinning
like something out of a Charlie Chaplin movie.
didn’t, but the professor seemed to gain some
comfort from the reflex action. If he hadn’t believed
them before, he at least appeared to be more settled
with their new cover story.
have another appointment in ten minutes, but I can gather
all the information I have together for you later this
afternoon and e-mail it over.” The professor eyed
Dean. “That is, if you know how to work a computer?”
smirked sarcastically back at the little man. “Nah,
I’m still working on my cave painting technique,
doc, but my brother just might be able to manage it.
mocking sentence seemed lost on Daniels as he walked
with them back towards the university lot. Either he
could be very naïve, or he was just as good as
Dean when it came down to caustic sarcasm.
Sam hastily scribbled down an e-mail address for the
professor, the little man offered one last cryptic piece
of information just to tease the brothers further. “You
know, there is at least one item in the collection that
should prove to be light entertainment for you boys…”
mouth opened and he was about to ask if they should
expect the lost Ark of the Covenant, but instead his
features creased into an expression of deep annoyance.
“Dude, there’s a freakin’ cat
snoozing on my hood!”
the curse and any thought of work, the elder hunter
scurried over to the Impala with every intention of
shooing the furry feline off his paintwork. “Freaky
claw-ball is gonna ruin the finish! Dammit,
Sammy, you know how long it took to get that shine?”
as a hand was about to bat the sleeping cat politely
off the car, Sam came to its rescue, scooping it up
into his arms as if he was cradling a baby.
black cat purred appreciatively and snuggled in closer,
its paws stretching out to touch Sam’s chin as
if it was toying with a ball of wool. Within seconds,
the friendly feline began to purr like a panther, its
tiny pink tongue taking a moment to wash its savior
grimaced until his nose puckered. “Man, that is
so the best offer you’ve had all year.”
call him Ra,” Daniels explained, as if the brothers
were about to adopt the feline. “Ra was an Egyptian
cat god, so we thought it appropriate. I’m afraid
he’s just a stray. I really had meant to call
the Animal Control Center to pick him up, but I just
haven’t had the heart.”
no you don’t, bucko! No way is furball riding
shotgun on my upholstery!” Dean caught the glint
in Sam’s eyes at the mention the cat was a stray,
and he fully intended to extinguish that glint
before they left the lot. “Last time you had a
pet it ended badly and you know it…”
tickled the cat’s ears and its golden orbs glistened
with pleasure. “That was NOT a pet,” he
snorted, watching as Ra began to purr again.
well, you knew we couldn’t have a real
dog being on the road and all. You were a kid. Dad thought
it would shut your whining up…”
glowered. “Dude, come on, a Sad Sam plushie
for a six-year-old?”
cocked his head and smiled as he climbed into the Impala.
Sometimes he just had to really appreciate his dad’s
choice in toys – especially when it came down
to Sam. “Well, you did kinda adopt the look, Samantha.
Now put down Garfield before I use him to wipe
petted the cat on the head one last time and then gently
sat it down at the professor’s feet. It meowed
softly and then intertwined itself around Daniels’
leg, long tail swishing with contentment.
into the Impala, Sam took one last, longing glance at
Ra and then slammed the door, waiting for the insults
he knew would fly his way for actually liking an animal.
Dean sneezed as he cranked the ignition.
then he sneezed again.
Sam, I think I’m allergic to the damn flea-ball!”
grinned as his brother pulled out of the lot, sneezing
all the way onto the highway.
Sam waited patiently as his brother reeled off an order
big enough to feed an entire football team. Sometimes,
Sam was convinced Dean simply ate out of habit. He was
a human eating machine that just didn’t know when
now, the young girl handing over their order was even
looking into the back of the Impala to see where the
rest of their group was.
took the paper bags and smiled – not at the girl,
but at the thought of the bags’ contents. “Not
exactly steak and eggs, but it’ll do,” the
hunter offered, passing the fare to his brother while
he pulled the Chevy over.
picked at the edge of the first bag, almost afraid to
look what was inside. To his relief, it was the chicken
club sandwich he’d ordered and not the “coronary”
burgers Dean tended to eat. “I don’t know
which is worse,” he noted. “The disgusting
décor of our latest motel room, or the greasy
excuse for a burger you’re munching on.”
paused, glanced at the Big Mac and then shrugged, taking
another huge bite. “Aww c’mon, Sammy, the
room is what you call retro, dude.”
examined his own sandwich, taking a much smaller bite
as he considered it. “Retro? It looks like a leftover
set from a bad seventies skin flick!”
mean you don’t find the mirrors on the ceiling
kinda kinky?” Dean teased back, sucking down a
stray piece of onion as it tried to escape his mouth.
“Man, and those blow up dolls you found in the
you said the cat was the best offer I’ve
had all year? Dean, your standards are slipping.”
Sam screwed up his empty wrapper and was about to take
a slug of Coke when his cell began to warble.
Coldplay’s Viva La Vida filled the car,
Dean grimaced. Sam ignored the derisory expression and
flipped open his phone.
Daniels?” His brow scrunched in concern. “Slow
breathless voice and indiscernible ranting was almost
unrecognizable, but in the background, Sam could hear
something that sounded like tearing.
time to mail it…need to tell you…”
Daniels was stuttering, and to Sam it sounded like the
elder man was speaking through clenched teeth until
enamel was grinding on enamel.
he just scared, or was there indescribable pain in his
your help…need to tell you in person before…”
The line hissed as if something was interfering with
the signal, and then suddenly Daniels’ voice was
back, twice as loud, and twice as terrified. “Before
it’s too late…”
glanced quickly to Dean, who had already tossed down
his burger, sensing something was “off.”
“Professor Daniels, just calm down, we’re
on our way. If you can just tell me what’s wrong
maybe we can help..?”
line crackled again, and when the volume finally returned,
all that Sam could hear was a week stammer through the
veil of electrical interference. “The mummy…it’s
then the connection was gone, lost to whatever entity
had invaded Daniels’ home. As the line buzzed,
Sam pulled it away from his ear and slammed it closed.
we need to get to Daniels’ house, NOW! There’s
something in there with him!”
looked longingly at the second Big Mac waiting patiently
in his lap and then tossed the burger and bun swiftly
through the open driver’s window. Cranking the
engine, he yanked the gearshift into “drive”
and rammed his foot down on the gas, bringing the car
around full circle.
Impala’s tires bit into the gravel surface of
the lot, kicking up a cloud as it sped back out onto
the highway. “You know, being a Winchester is
worse than Starsky and friggin’ Hutch,”
Dean muttered as he gripped the wheel.
Sam remembered the retro cop show, but he didn’t
see the connection – well, apart from the same
crappy period décor that now adorned their motel.
rolled his eyes, obviously ashamed at his brother’s
lack of TV knowledge. “Dude, they never got to
finish their food, either!”
opened his mouth to suggest he didn’t exactly
watch the show for the characters’ eating habits,
but as the Chevy’s rear end fishtailed dangerously
across the road, tossing him rapidly sideways, he suddenly
forgot what he was arguing about.
never lost control of his baby.
yet, as Sam watched mesmerized, the elder hunter frantically
began to tear at the steering wheel, desperate to pull
the car back into position before it slammed into several
parked vehicles along the highway.
wasn’t sure if the problem was the car, Dean or
what was in that Big Mac you munched on?”
me!” Dean ground out the retort but his eyes never
veered from the blacktop. “Sammy, I hate to be
the bearer of bad news, but my foot has been on the
brake pedal for the last half mile…”
blinked then grabbed at the dash as the Impala swerved
again, this time with such a violent lurching motion
that the hunter thought the Chevy would roll.
didn’t, but for the briefest of seconds the tires
left the road, giving an almost weightless sensation
until the wheels slammed back down again.
grunted as every bone in his body seemed to jar together.
“Man, you might have something with that clown
fear of yours. I’m telling you, Ronald back there
sure hasn’t done anything for our luck…”
Chevy groaned as Dean guided it deftly around a sharp
bend, leaving two streaks of rubber in its wake as it
seemed to gain even more momentum.
if you killed the ignition?” Sam ventured, almost
biting through the tip of his tongue as the car mounted
the sidewalk and then bounced back off again.
that,” Dean grumbled back. “Hell, I tried
everything except putting my freakin’ boot through
the floor and braking Flintstone style.”
demonstrate, the hunter yanked at the column gearshift,
but even in neutral, the car’s revs didn’t
fact, as Sam watched, the engine’s revolutions
increased until the dash gauge was in the red warning
saw the needle and barely managed to stifle a choking
long fingers found the edge of his seat and he implanted
them there, wishing that his brother drove something
with airbags and side impact bars instead of ancient
metal panels that afforded no modern day protection.
“Tell me again why you love this bucket of bolts?”
way is this happening,” Dean countered, pulling
at the parking brake even though he knew it could roll
the car at their current speed.
It didn’t – the handle simply came loose
in his sweating palm and he had to force himself not
to stare at it. Placing his gaze back on the road, he
began to curse anew under his breath. “I’m
telling you, Sammy, some sonofabitch messed
with my baby while we were back in the museum.”
who, Dean? Next you’ll be blaming the cat!”
Sam winced as the Chevy barely shaved past a Durango
and then ran two sets of lights at an intersection.
Horns blared and drivers angrily shook fists through
their windows, but so far they’d averted a major
disaster thanks to Dean’s driving skills.
it’s the curse,” Dean suggested, tiny rivulets
of sweat beginning to form across his brow. “Maybe
it’s some kind of presence.”
wasn’t impressed. “Great! Just great! Possessed
Chevy in the family…” He dared to take a
hand from the base of his seat and checked the door
handle, but as he suspected the mechanism appeared to
be abruptly jammed. Grabbing the window lever, he quickly
wound down the glass before it too decided to rebel.
He wasn’t particularly the right size to dive
out of the car, but he preferred the option to being
highway hamburger. “Can we rock salt
my dead body, Sasquatch!”
face puckered at his brother’s choice of words
– especially considering what was looming ahead
through the windshield. “Well, yeah, pretty soon,
blinked and realized all that was missing was the tinny
sound of Creedence through the car’s speakers
to complete the scene.
Peterbuilt was on the right side of the road. It wasn’t
speeding, it wasn’t veering over the center line
or causing any kind of risk.
Impala was heading right for the semi, and no matter
how much Dean tugged at the wheel it stayed on course,
motor roaring and tires screaming.
Winchesters seemed doomed to die by truck, and third
time usually paid for all.
idea seemed to reach each brother’s thought processes
at the same time, and like two robots from the future
they autonomously mouthed the same speech together.
together for the last time.
crap, not again…”
fate wouldn’t have it any other way.
for the Winchesters.
the episode here