( GANG VIOLENCE )

DUNGEON
[ ☾]

      "Ain't life a bitch?" Metatron, still chained to the chair in the dungeon, speaks. "Nebbishy little guy – me – always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks."

      "You know what, screw the Mark. Let's just kill him." Dean says.

      "Boy, he really is a mess." Metatron says. Sam sits on a table corner next to Dean while Elena stands next to the eldest Winchester. "Who knew the Mark was so toxic? Well, actually, I did." He turns to Dean. "You know it is going to own you sooner than later."

      "Yeah, so how do we get rid of it?" Sam asks.

      "What, just like that, social hour's over?" Metatron asks.

      "Yes, and now we're moving on to our keynote speaker." Sam says.

      "Which is you. With us asking the questions. And me taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you." Dean says.

      "Now, just – whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, badass!" Metatron yells. "Lighten up! Why do you just assume I'm not gonna be helpful?"

      "Because you're a dickwad." Ask says.

      "But I'm your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for you both. To which end – ta-daa! I'd be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit." Metatron says. "To do it, you are gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud – the First Blade."

      "What?" Elena asks.

      Metatron laughs. "As I said: ain't life a bitch." He says.

      Dean, Elena, and Sam walk into the library. "This is the single worst idea I've ever heard. You just whacked a whole house full of people, and that's when the Blade was nowhere around. And now you wanna be in actual contact with it?" Sam asks.

      "We don't know that I have to be in contact with it. All we know is that we need it." Dean says.

      "No no, all we know is he says we need it." Sam says. "We don't even know what he wants us to do with it."

      "A step at a time, allright." Dean says. "We play it safe, we learn whatever the spell is, how it works and we keep the Blade out of my hands." Dean takes out his cell phone.

      "Are you sure this isn't the Mark making you want the damn thing? I mean, why would we trust anything Metatron says?"

      "I don't trust Metatron." He says.

      "You don't tru– Then what?" Sam asks.

      "What's his game if he is lying, okay? The Blade without me is useless. The Blade with me is trouble for him." Dean makes a call and puts his phone to his ear.

      "What does he want?" Elena asks.

      "I don't know. But if we weren't willing to take a shot, then what was the point of bringing him here?" Dean asks. "Unless you got a better idea."

HELL
[ TIME UNKNOWN ]

      Rowena is pouring tea, using a golden tea set in Crowley's throne room. "Of course you recall the lovely lullaby I sang to you nightly after you fed the goat." She says

      Crowley sits on his throne. "You never sung me a lullaby. You dosed me with whiskey until I passed out." He says.

      "Even then, I had a touch for pharmacology. Your mum was a prodigy." She says.

      "Funny. Not what I called you." Crowley's cell phone rings. "Business." He answers the call. "Squirrel. It's been a while. Back to your former self?"

      "Crowley. We need to meet ASAP." Dean says.

      "Where?" Crowley listens while Rowena watches him. Crowley ends the call and gets up from the throne. "I got to go. Urgent. Matter of state."

      "My son." Rowena straightens Crowley's lapels. "So important. Shall I wait dinner for you?"

      "You don't cook. I don't eat. It's a perfect arrangement." Crowley teleports away.

      "Not even a goodbye." Rowena looks around; she's alone. She opens a drawer and takes out a pair of scissors. Humming The Road to Loch Lomond, she opens Crowley's closet where at least six identical dark blue paisley ties are hanging side by side. Rowena cuts a strip of fabric from one of them.

      Claire is holding a pool cue, talking to Brit, who is also holding a pool cue. "After my mom split and went crazy, Randy was like a father to me. First, I lose my first dad, then I lose my second. And who killed him and trashed my life?" She makes a shot. "The buddy of the guy who killed my first dad and wants to be my third dad."

      Brit scoffs. "Wow, sounds just like my life." She says.

      Tony also holds a pool cue. "Complications and pain. That's all family get you." He says.

      "Yes." Claire says.

      "That's why me and Tony keep moving. No strings." Brit says. "Hey, why don't you hang with us for a while and unload this whole mess?"

      "Um, you might wanna reconsider. People near me get pretty unlucky pretty fast." Claire's cell phone rings, she looks at the screen. "Oh, my – that's him again."

      "The guy who killed your second dad or the guy who killed your first dad?" Tony asks.

      "The second thing." Claire says.

      "Tell him to get lost."

      "I did. He's a turn-the-other-cheek kinda guy." Says Claire.

      "Hon. You seem real sweet, but sweetness don't clean up messes." Brit says.

      "Yeah."

STREET
[ ☾]

       Dean, Elena, and Sam are standing in front of a brick wall covered in graffiti. "Really, Crowley? Radio silence?" Dean asks.

      "Say something." Sam says.

      Crowley faces them. "You want me do to what??" He asks.

      "We need you to bring back—" Sam starts.

      "Bring back the Blade? I don't think so." Crowley says. Rowena, humming bagpipe music, is attaching strips of Crowley's ties to a hex object.

      "You don't have to give the ting to me." Dean says.
 
     "I should say not." Crowley says.

      "No no, just retrieve it and hang onto it until we need it." Dean says.

      "You, moose, you're the sane one. You onboard with this?" Crowley says.

      "Wings of Titania, bear mine eyes aloft as I bid thee." Rowena finishes the spell and gasps. Her eyes roll up into her head, as her spell leads her inner sight to Crowley, who is still with Sam and Dean in the dark alleyway. Rowena sees and hears this:

      "Insane. You want me to procure the most dangerous weapon on the planet for Dean Winchester, the man who goes mental every time he touches it!" Crowley yells. "I thought you'd wanna go for a beer, catch a film."

      "Look, if this plan works..." Elena starts.

      "It's not a plan. It's a probable death sentence for me and my kind." Crowley says.

      "If it works, it's better for you. Look, when the Mark is gone, the Blade can't operate." Sam says.

      "Win-win. Huh? Win-win."

      "Stop that. It can't operate. It's hidden." Crowley says. Rowena, still with her eyes showing only the whites, is still listening.

      "Okay, the Blade might be powered down, but the Mark is not." Dean says. "I'm doing everything I can to keep it together. You think the body count around me is high right now? Wait till Hal takes over."

      "We figure you stashed the Blade somewhere far away..." Sam starts.

      "Damn right. It's in a crypt with my bones." Crowley says. Rowena raises her eyebrows.

      "All right, well?" Sam asks.

      "I hate Guam this time of year." Crowley says. Rowena's inner sight retracts back into her body. She's sitting in Crowley's throne room in Hell, smiling.

HELL
[ TIME UNKNOWN ]

      Guthrie is tidying up scrolls. "And why is this imperial communiqué coming through you? The king always deals with me mano a mano." He says.

      "Well, the king, my son, had pressing affairs, and asked me, his mother, to speak with you, his most trusted... underling." Rowena says. "He said, 'Only Guthrie can be trusted with this task'."

      "I don't know." Gunthrie says.

      "It's not your place to know, just to obey. I did mention that as His Majesty's mother, I have an unerring sense of what or who is best for my son, yes?"

      "Ad nauseam." He says.

       "You will recall, it was I who exposed the traitor Gerald. The one the king executed." She says. "Turns out not all demons are nice. And I am a tigress when it comes to my bonny lad."

       "What is this task the king requires?" Gunthrie asks.

      "Your resumé indicates you were a crossroads demon before your promotion?"

      "I was." He says.

      "Then you do travel, is that not correct?"

BUNKER
[ ☾]

      Castiel comes in through the front door. "The First Blade is back in play and Crowley is the one getting it?" He asks. Sam, sitting at the table in the war room below, looks up at Castiel, surprised. "I don't mean to be an alarmist, but you –"

      "Yeah well, you know us." Dean walks in from the library, holding a beer bottle. "When we screw ourselves we like to go whole hog."

      "This would be the Crowley who let the Blade turn Dean into a demon?" Castiel walks down the stairs into the war room.

      "I don't have a choice, 'kay? I don't do this, I'm down the rabbit hole. Hear evil, see evil, do evil. The trifecta." Dean says.

      "Cas, look. Let us worry about this." Sam says. "You've got enough on your plate with Claire."

      "Claire is gone."

       "Gone where?" Elena asks.

      "I don't know, I – I should have stopped her." Cas says. "But I am certain that she is destined for more trouble and disappointment. She is so... so full of rage."

      "Listen, man, if I could make it better I would." Dean says.

      "It's actually why I'm here. I was hoping you might reach out to her." Cas says.

      "Me?" Dean asks.

      "Yes."

      "Seriously, I'm probably the last person she would wanna hear from." He says.

      "I thought there would be a connection. One extremely messed up human to another, you could explain why you murdered her only friend." Castiel says.

      "Oh, well, yeah, when you put it like that." Dean says.

      "All I know..." Castiel sits down opposite Dean. "...is she won't talk to me. I thought if she understood the kind of man Randy was and the danger she was in, she might..."

      "What the hell, why not? Long shots seem to be the theme around here. I'm gonna go make a sandwich." Dean says.

      "I'll, uh – I'll text you her number."

      "Okay." Dean says.

      Castiel speaks, cell phone in hand. "I like texting. Emoticons?" He asks and Dean leaves the room. "He seems calm. Considering the effects of the Mark. Metatron in proximity."

      "Too calm. I think he's worried about what'll happen if he pops the cork." Sam says.

CRYPT
[ ☾]

      Crowley walks in and blows the dust off the lid of the marble sarcophagus, which bears the name MACLEOD. He opens the lid to reveal a skeleton and an ornate box. He takes out the box and opens it, but it only contains a First Blade-shaped nothing.

      Rowena is sitting on Crowley's throne in Hell. Guthrie opens the door and walks in, holding a briefcase. He sees Rowena and clears his throat. "Oh! Ooooh – sciatica! I need a firm chair." She says.

      "So I see. I have it. This is my responsibility." Gunthrie says. "I'll deliver it only to the king."

      "You have demonstrated unimpeachable loyalty, Guthrie. You, more than any, deserve this reward from a grateful monarch." Rowena stabs Guthrie with an angel blade. Guthrie's eyes and mouth light up with demon fire as he burns out. "Don't screw with me, sycophant."

      "What in hell...?"

       Rowena looks up at Crowley who walks in, looking down at Guthrie's body. "Exactly! What the hell is going on in Hell?? You said Guthrie was one of your best, your most trusted, and yet I found him inciting unrest amongst the court." She says.

      "Can't be true." He says.

      "Can't it? He said you were colluding with someone called – Winchester? Yes?" She asks. "And that you were going to fetch him, what was it – the First Blade? Which could kill us all! He said he got it first because you couldn't be trusted. Naturally I confronted him, and he attacked me! I had no choice."

      "I had a vision. Of Guthrie, attacking me." Crowley says.

      "A prophecy. I am an interpreter of signs." Rowena says.

      Crowley squats down and takes the First Blade from Guthrie's briefcase. "It's not possible." He says.

      "I know, sonny – and yet."

      "How could he have known?" He asks.

       "Spies everywhere. I did try to warn you. Fergus – these Winchesters he mentioned, they're not the hunter Winchesters, are they?" She asks. "Because they too could be a great danger for us. I mean, today we got lucky, but tomorrow, who knows? Who is there left for you to trust?"

       A small woodfire is burning outside. "Oh, we loved living there. It was our dream house." Brit says.
She's talking to Claire. They're both sitting in lawn chairs. Tony comes out from a beat-up camper behind them.

       "Of course the family came home from vacation. Screwed up everything." Tony hands a beer each to the girls.

      "Haha! I just about peed myself when the wife pulled that gun out of her purse." Brit says.

      "Haha! We tore outta there and ran two miles bare-ass naked." Tony says. Claire puts her cell phone to her ear.

      Dean speaks on the recording. "Hey, it's Dean. Look, Claire, we need to talk in person. Just tell me where, okay? Call me." It says.

      "That him again? The guy that caused you so much grief?" Tony asks.

      "Worse. Dean Winchester. The one who butchered Randy."

      "And why?" Brit asks. "What was this Dean's connection to Randy?"

      "He didn't even know him. Or the others. And he gutted them. And I saw him standing there, soaked in blood." Claire says. "Looking like he enjoyed it. And now he wants to meet. And talk."

      "Maybe you should." He says.

      "What?" He asks.

      "Me and Tony are worried for you. This guy around, you're always gonna be looking over your shoulder."

      "We've handled situations like this before. We could take care of him so they won't bother you anymore." Tony says.

      "Beat him up bad." Brit says.

      "Or...something more permanent." He says as Claire smiles at him.