Sam was taking a turn wearing Mack in the hiking backpack as they snuck into the basement of a house where the monster they were hunting- a rawhead- was holding two young children. Dean had gotten ahold of two tasers because the rawhead's weakness was electricity. He took point while Sam followed quietly, both holding their tasers and flashlights. In the basement, they heard a noise coming from a cupboard.

"On three," Dean whispered. "One. Two. Three." He swung the cupboard door open, revealing the two kids inside, covering their ears. "Is it still here?" Sam whispered to them. They both nodded. "Okay. Grab your sister's hand, come on, we gotta get you out of here," Dean told the boy. "Let's go. Let's go." They all moved back toward the stairs. "Alright, go!" Sam helped the children up the stairs ahead of him. A hand grabbed his leg, pulling him onto his stomach, so thankfully Mack was alright. The other two kids screamed, running up the stairs.

"Sam! Mack!" Dean shot his taser, missing the creature. "Sam, get 'em outta here!" Sam got to his feet, tossing Dean his taser. "Here, take this!" Dean caught the taser as Sam ran upstairs with the kids. Dean moved through the basement on high alert, shining his flashlight into the corners of the room. "Come on!" he yelled. Just then, the rawhead jumped out and shoved him backwards. He stumbled, losing his weapon and flashlight as he fell. Glancing around, he scrambled across puddles of water to grab the taser and released it toward the creature as it moved toward him, electrocuting it.

The electricity moved from the creature, through the water lying on the ground to Dean, electrocuting him as well. Both he and the rawhead shook and twitched, and the monster fell to the ground as Dean lost consciousness. Sam came running back down the stairs, spotting Dean lying unmovingly in the corner. "Dean!" he rushed over to his older brother and half lifted him, holding his face. "Dean, hey. Hey!"

Mack clung to her uncle's leg and he reached down, running his fingers comfortingly through her hair while he talked to the receptionist behind the front desk at the hospital. "Sir, I'm sorry to ask. There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file," she informed him. "Right, uh, okay." He took out his wallet, handing her a card. "Okay, Mr. Burkovitz," she said, glancing at the card. Sam spotted two cops approaching and picked Mack up, heading over to talk to them. "Look, we can finish this up later," one of the cops assured him.

"No, no, it's okay," Sam shook his head. "We were just taking a shortcut through the neighborhood. And, um, the windows were rolled down, we heard screaming when we drove past the house, and we stopped. Ran in." The cops nodded, taking down his statement. "And you found the kids in the basement?"

"Yeah."

"Well, thank God you did." Sam saw the doctor approaching and gave the cops a thin smile. "Excuse me," he told them. "Sure. Thanks for your help." The cops left so Sam could talk to the doctor next. "Hey, Doc. Is he..." Sam trailed off. "He's resting," the doctor informed him. "And?" Sam pressed, rubbing Mack's back as she clung to him. "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart... it's damaged."

"How damaged?"

"We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month." Sam felt Mack's grip on him tighten and it made his heart shatter. "No, no," he shook his head. "There's, there's... gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment." The doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "We can't work miracles. I really am sorry."

Sam turned away, heading in the direction of Dean's room. Mack had started shaking and crying into his shoulder and he was pretty close to joining her. When they got to the doorway of Dean's room, Dean was sitting up in the hospital bed watching TV. He was extremely pale with dark circles under his eyes. "Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible," he stated weakly, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. "I talked to your doctor," Sam informed him. "That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

"Dean."

Dean finally looked over at his brother and daughter. He sighed, clicking a button on the remote to turn the TV off. "Yeah. Alright, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me." Sam frowned at him, shaking his head. "What are you talking about? I'm not gonna leave you here."

"Hey, you better take care of Mack and that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass," Dean told him seriously. "I don't think that's funny," Sam said. "Oh, come on, it's a little funny." There was a long silence, broken only by Mack's soft whimpers as she continued crying in Sam's arms. Sam looked down, pressing a kiss to her temple and Dean sighed. "Look, Sammy, what can I say, man, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

"Don't talk like that, alright? We still have options."

"What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it."

"Watch me." Sam turned on his heel, carrying Mack away.

Back at the motel they'd checked into while hunting the rawhead, Sam had put Mack to sleep on Dean's bed, her rabbit clutched tightly in her arms and her thumb stuck in her mouth. The last few days, she wouldn't fall asleep unless her face was buried in Dean's pillow. Sam's bed and the kitchenette table were both strewn with pages and pages of research about heart care. He was sitting at the table with John's journal open in front of him on the phone. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 866-907-3235. He can help," the familiar voicemail picked up.

"Hey, Dad," he spoke, fighting back tears. "It's Sam. Uh... you probably won't even get this, but, uh... it's Dean. He's sick, and uh... the doctors say there's nothing they can do. Um... but, uh, they don't know the things we know, right? So, don't worry, 'cause I'm uh... gonna do whatever it takes to get him better. Alright... I just wanted you to know."

He hung up, tossing his phone on his bed with the other research and just sat there in silence. Mack whimpered in her sleep and he looked over. However, before he could move over to check on her, there was a knock on the door. Composing himself, he went to answer it, finding Dean leaning against the jamb, dressed in a hoodie and jeans and looking sicker than before. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, simultaneously surprised, happy and confused.

"I checked myself out," Dean answered. "What, are you crazy?" Dean pushed into the room, leaning on everything within reach as he moved to sit down. "Well, I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot." He looked over at Mack asleep on his bed, expression softening. Sam huffed a laugh, shutting the door. "You know, this whole, I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it."

"Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you slept? You look worse than me."

"I've been scouring the internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal," Sam explained. "When I'm not taking care of Mack." Dean frowned, looking back at Mack's sleeping form. "For what?" he asked. "For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"

"I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going."

The 'specialist' turned out to be a faith healer working out of a tent; a fact Dean was not quiet in vocalizing his disdain about. "I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals out of a tent," he grumbled. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man," an elderly woman passing by commented. "Yeah, that's nice," Dean snarked. They passed an angry man who was arguing with a cop. "I have the right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he's milking these people of their hard-earned money."

"Sir, this is a place of worship," the Sheriff told the man. "Let's go. Move it." The Winchesters watched as the man was led away. "I take it he's not part of the flock," Dean rolled his eyes. "But when people see things they can't explain, there's controversy," Sam pointed out, holding Mack's hand at his side. "I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" Dean complained. "Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean."

"You know what I have faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on." Mack let go of Sam's fingers, wandering off as the boys argued. "How can you be a skeptic? With the things we see everyday?" Dean nodded. "Exactly. We see them, we know they're real." Sam shook his head. "But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe there's good out there, too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways," a young woman said, coming up behind Dean. He turned to face her, taking in her appearance. She had pretty blonde waves and blue eyes and she had Mack balanced on her hip. "Maybe he does," he said. "I think you just turned me around on the subject." The woman smirked. "Yeah, I'm sure. Does this one belong to you? She said you were her daddy." Mack was grinning widely at Dean from the woman's arms.

"Yeah, she does," he said. "That's Mack. I'm Dean. This is Sam." She handed Mack to Sam and took the hand Dean had proffered for a handshake. "Layla," she introduced herself. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?" Dean nodded at Sam. "Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the both of us." Just then, another woman who looked like an older version of Layla approached and put her arm around her. "Come on, Layla. It's about to start."

Both women smiled at the Winchesters as they moved inside the tent. Dean looked like he would have smacked Sam upside the head if he wasn't so weak. "Dude, you're not supposed to let my kid run off by herself." Sam sighed, reaching down to pick up the rabbit Mack had just dropped on the ground. "I didn't mean to let her run off, Dean. Come on. Let's go find some seats." They headed into the tent. It was full of people milling around finding seats. A small stage was set up at the front with a lectern and candles on it.

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all around," Dean nodded at the corner. Sam followed his gaze to a security camera up by the ceiling. "Come on," he urged Dean again, getting him to move toward the front of the tent instead of near the back like Dean had been trying to sit. "Don't! What are you doing? Let's sit here," Dean protested. "We're sitting up front."

"What? Why?"

"Come on," Sam urged again. "Oh, come on, Sam," Dean growled. "You alright?" Sam asked, helping Dean sit in the aisle seat and taking his place next to him with Mack on his lap. "This is ridiculous," Dean said, slapping Sam's hand away. "I'm good, dude, get off me." Sam relented, focusing on the blind man on stage that a woman was guiding to the lectern. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news," the man- Reverend LeGrange- began. "Never seems good, does it?"

The audience murmured in agreement. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act." As the Reverend spoke, Sam noticed a table of religious items onstage including a wooden cross topped with a smaller cross inside of a circle. "But I say unto you, God is watching," the Reverend continued. "Yes, he is," the crowd murmured. "God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt." There was more murmuring, nodding and cheering. "It is the Lord that does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Yeah, and into their wallets," Dean hissed quietly to Sam under the murmuring of the audience. "You think so, young man?" LeGrange asked. The entire crowd went quiet and Dean stared up at the man in shock. "Sorry," he mumbled an apology. "No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The audience laughed and Dean shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "What's your name son?"

Dean glanced over at Sam, answering hesitantly. "D-Dean." The Reverend hummed, "Dean." He nodded. "I want- I want you to come up here with me." The crowd started clapping and in front of the Winchesters, Layla and her mother sat stone still. Sue Ann moved to center stage, smiling down at Dean. "No, it's okay," Dean shook his head. "What are you doing?" Sam whispered. "You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" LeGrange asked. Dean hesitated again. "Well, yeah, but..." the crowd got louder again and he trailed off for a moment. "Maybe you should just pick someone else."

Sam looked over at Dean like he was insane as the crowd continued to clap. "Oh, no," LeGrange smiled. "I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did." The audience got more excited and Sam gave his brother a nudge. "Get up there!" he encouraged. Slowly, Dean got to his feet, moving toward the stage. Sue Ann moved to assist him, placing him next to the Reverend. "You ready?" the Reverend queried. "Look, no disrespect, but ahh, I'm not exactly a believer."

"You will be, son. You will be."

LeGrange smiled, addressing the crowd at a louder volume than how he'd just been addressing Dean. "Pray with me, friends." The crowd lifted their arms and joined hands with each other. Sam was the only one not participating, staring up at the stage intently. LeGrange lifted his hands in the air, then placed one on Dean's shoulder and the other on the side of his head. "Alright now. Alright now." Dean's eyes glazed over and he started to sink to his knees as the Reverend kept his hands on him. "Alright now," the Reverend murmured a third time.

Dean wobbled, his eyes rolling back in his head as he slipped to the stage floor. "Dean!" Sam cried, jumping out of his chair and rushing to his brother's side. "Daddy," Mack said, reaching for her father. Dean's eyes snapped open and he gasped. "Say something!" Sam cried. Dean blinked groggily upward. He could see a tall man in a black suit with white hair, and extremely pale, wrinkled skin standing at the Reverend's shoulder. Nobody else seemed to realize the man was there.

After getting Dean checked out at the hospital, the doctors determined that he was perfectly healthy- no sign of there ever being anything wrong with his heart. The doctor did mention that another guy Dean's age had had a heart attack the day before. So, Sam went to go check out the victim while Dean took Mack to go visit the Reverend again. Mack played on the floor with her toys while the adults had a conversation. "I feel great," Dean was telling LeGrange. "Just trying to, you know, make sense of what happened."

"A miracle is what happened," Sue Ann said, filling three glasses with lemonade. "Well, miracles happen so often around Roy." Dean tore his gaze from her to look back at Roy. "When did they start? The miracles?" Roy smiled. "Woke up one morning, stone blind. Doctors figured out I had cancer. Told me I had maybe a month. So, uh, we prayed for a miracle. I was weak, but I told Sue Ann, 'You just keep right on praying.' I went into a coma. Doctors said I wouldn't wake up, but I did. And the cancer was gone."

He took off his sunglasses, showing off his milky white eyes. "If it wasn't for these eyes, no one would believe I'd ever had it." Dean nodded. "And suddenly you could heal people." Roy put his glasses back on. "I discovered it afterward, yes. God's blessed me in many ways." Sue Ann walked over with the lemonade, taking a seat next to her husband. "And his flock just swelled overnight. And this is just the beginning."

"Can I ask you one last question?"

"Of course you can."

"Why?" Dean asked. "Why me? Out of all the sick people, why save me?" Mack looked up at him from where she was playing, then over at Roy as if she, too, was anticipating the answer. "Well, like I said before, the Lord guides me. I looked into your heart, and you just stood out from all the rest," Roy replied. "What did you see in my heart?" Dean pressed, unsure if he really wanted the answer. "A young man with an important purpose. A job to do. And it isn't finished."

After bidding the Reverend and his wife goodbye, Dean gathered Mack and her toys and left. As he was leaving, they ran into Layla and her mother outside the house. "Dean, hey," Layla greeted him. "Hey," he replied. She grinned at the young child in his arms. "And hello to you, too, Mack." Mack didn't immediately reply, just staring at her. "Can you say hi?" Dean asked her. "Hi," she mumbled, focusing on her rabbit immediately after.

"How are you feeling?" Layla asked Dean. "I feel good. Cured, I guess," he shrugged. "What are you doing here?" Layla sighed. "You know, my mom, she wanted to talk to the Reverend." Sue Ann walked out onto the porch, staring down the steps at the little group. "Layla?" she asked. "Yes, I'm here again," Layla said softly. "Well, I'm sorry, but Roy is resting. He won't be seeing anyone else right now."

"Sue Ann, please," Layla's mother begged. "This is our sixth time, he's got to see us." Sue Ann shook her head. "Roy is well aware of Layla's situation. And he very much wants to help just as soon as the Lord allows. Have faith, Mrs. Rourke." She went back inside, Mrs. Rourke rounding with a venomous glare at Dean. "Why are you still even here? You got what you wanted."

"Mom. Stop."

"No, Layla, this is too much. We've been to every single service. If Roy would stop choosing these strangers over you. Strangers who don't even believe. I just can't pray any harder." Dean swallowed, confused, as he looked over at Layla. "Layla, what's wrong?" he asked. "I have this thing..." she began hesitantly. "It's a brain tumor," her mom cut in angrily. "It's inoperable. In six months, the doctors say..."

Layla put a hand on her mom's shoulder, stopping her. "I'm sorry," Dean apologized. "It's okay," Layla gave him a thin smile. "No. It isn't," Mrs. Rourke said, staring into her daughter's eyes before turning her attention back to Dean. "Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?" She walked away and after a beat, Layla followed. Dean watched them go, then turned around to stare up at the LeGrange's house.

Dean entered the motel room, throwing his keys on the dresser and laying a sleeping Mack down on his bed before beginning to shed his jacket. Sam was sitting up on his bed, his laptop open on his lap. "What'd you find out?" Dean asked softly so Mack wouldn't wake up. "I'm sorry," Sam spoke even more quietly. "Sorry about what?" Dean asked, tossing his jacket aside and approaching his brother. "Marshall Hall died at 4:17."

Dean stopped in his tracks, stunned. "The exact time I was healed," he murmured. "Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Someone's healed of cancer, someone dies of cancer," Dean supplied an example. "Somehow," Sam nodded. "LeGrange... he's trading one life for another."

"Wait, wait, wait." Dean held up a hand, stopping Sam from continuing. "So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" He definitely hadn't signed up for that. Sam at least had the decency to look upset. "Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed." Dean was livid. "You never should have brought me here."

"Dean, I was just trying to save your life."

"But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me."

"I didn't know," Sam defended himself. "The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it? How is he trading a life for a life." Dean scoffed. "Oh, he's not doing it. Someone else is doing it for him." Sam furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The old man I saw on stage. I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew," Dean elaborated. "You knew what?" Sam pressed. "What are you talking about?" Dean took a deep breath, glaring over at his brother. "There's only one thing that can give and take a life like that. We're dealing with a reaper."

Mack had woken up from her nap and was watching Disney Jr. on the TV while Sam and Dean sat at the table doing research on reapers. "You really think it's the Grim Reaper?" Sam asked. "Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?" Dean shook his head. "No, no, no, not the reaper, a reaper. There's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on Earth, it goes by a hundred different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit."

"What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing?.. You said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you, which is why I could see it and you couldn't."

"Maybe."

"There's nothing else it could be, Sam," Dean pointed out. "The question is, how is Roy controlling the damn thing?" Sam's eyes widened in realization. "That cross." Dean blinked. "What?" Sam elaborated, "There was this cross, I noticed it at the church and I knew I had seen it before." He looked through the papers on the table and snorted, holding a card up to Dean. "Here."

Dean took the card, frowning. "A tarot?" he questioned. "It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early Christian era, right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into some dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" Dean translated. "If he is, he's riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white." Dean rose from the table, placing his cup in the sink and then leaning against it. "Okay, then we stop Roy." Sam looked over at him. "How?" Dean shrugged. "You know how." The younger Winchester was immediately shaking his head in protest. "Wait, what the hell are you talking about, Dean? We can't kill Roy."

"Sam, the guy's playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

"No. We're not going to kill a human being, Dean. We do that, we're no better than he is." Dean huffed. "Okay, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill Death. Any bright ideas, college boy?"

"Okay, uh... If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta... figure out what it is. And how to break it."

While Sam went to find the spell book Roy was using, Dean took on the role of stalling the Reverend before he could heal somebody at that day's service. Inside the tent, he started making his way up the side aisle as everyone was getting seated. "What have you got?" he asked when Sam called him. "Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?"

"What, the guy in the parking lot?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?" Dean hung up, moving further toward the front of the tent. As he did so, Sue Ann helped her husband to the lectern and the service began. "Layla. Layla Rourke. Come up here, child," Roy said. Dean's heart plummeted in his chest as the crowd burst into pleased applause. Layla just sat, stunned, then slowly rose to her feet. "Oh, man," Dean murmured as she hugged her mom. As she passed him, he grabbed her arm.

"Layla, listen to me. You can't go up there," he said. "Why not? We've waited for months!" she told him. "You can't let Roy heal you," Dean protested. "I don't understand, Roy healed you, didn't he? Why can't you let him try?"

"'Cause if you do, something bad is gonna happen. I can't explain. I just need you to believe me."

The pair stared at each other as Sue Ann stood, waiting to escort Layla on stage. "Layla," she held out her hand. "Please," Dean begged. Layla stared at Sue Ann's hand, then turned to stare back at her mother, who was standing wringing her hands. She nodded at her, and Layla looked back at Dean, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."

"Layla. Layla!"

"Dear child!" Sue Ann smiled, putting her arm around Layla's shoulders and guiding her over to Roy. The crowd began cheering happily. Dean had his hands buried in his hair, frustrated and desperate. He knew what he needed to do, but it was so much harder to stomach considering it was Layla on stage and not someone he didn't know. He moved slowly back to the back of the tent, watching as Roy started to place his hands on Layla. Before he could touch her, however, Dean cried out.

"Fire! Hurry, tent's on fire!" Layla opened her eyes as the crowd immediately reacted. They rose from their chairs, everyone hurrying toward the exit, yelling and screaming. Dean stayed, frozen in place at the back of the tent, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he stared at Layla's stricken expression. He pulled out his phone, dialing Sam. "I did it, I stopped Roy."

"David, I think it's okay," Sam addressed the protestor. "No!" David cried a moment later. "Dean, it didn't work," Sam spoke more clearly into the phone. "The reaper's still coming! I'm telling you, I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing."

"Then who the hell is?"

Just then, Dean spotted Sue Ann by the stage, facing the corner and reciting something under her breath. "Sue Ann," he said. He hung up, hurrying over to her and spinning her around. She gasped and stopped reciting, reaching down to hold a cross on a chain around her neck- the same type of cross Sam had seen earlier. She stared at him, tucking the cross beneath her blouse. "Help! Help me!"

Dean backed off, nodding and staring at Sue Ann like he shouldn't have expected anything better. Two cops grabbed him, pulling him away roughly. They manhandled him out of the tent, Sue Ann following. He shook them off as soon as they were outside. "I don't understand," Sue Ann said. "After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very disappointed, Dean." He just stared at her, saying nothing.

"You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit," Sue Ann told the cops. She left, the cops turning toward Dean. "We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?" one of them asked. "Yes, sir, fear of God. Got it." The cops gave him one last push. He turned, freezing when he found Layla waiting for him. "Layla?"

"Why would you do that, Dean? And it could have been my only chance."

"He's not a healer."

"He healed you."

"I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain," he said, swallowing hard. "But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry." She shook her head sadly. "Good bye, Dean." She walked away. Dean raised his eyes to the sky, fighting back tears, then turned to watch her. She turned back one more time. "I wish you luck," she said. "I really do."

"Same to you," he replied, voice cracking. She turned and started walking away again and he continued under his breath. "You deserve it a lot more than me." As he headed back to where Sam was waiting with Mack, they overheard Roy telling Layla and her mother that he'd give them a private session that night without interruptions.

That night, they returned to destroy the altar and get the cross Sue Ann was wearing. It went okay, for the most part. Sam snuck into the basement and destroyed the altar. However, Sue Ann caught him and locked him in. She was planning on making Dean the next victim when Roy healed Layla. "Sam, can't you see?" she asked from the other side of the door. "The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will."

"He has a daughter!" Sam protested, surveying the room. "Good bye, Sam," Sue Ann said. While Sam worked on breaking out of the basement, Dean was heading quietly toward the tent. Nearby, some lights went out. He stopped, looking behind him, and watched as the lights along the path went out one by one. When he turned back, he spotted the reaper walking toward him.

Sue Ann was just outside the tent door, reciting and holding her necklace as Roy put his hands on Layla's head. Outside, the reaper also put his hands on Dean's head. They continued to mirror each other, Dean sinking to his knees and his eyes glazing over just like Layla. Sam had managed to escape, and came up behind Sue Ann, grabbing her necklace and throwing it aside. The glass bottle of blood on the top of the cross broke, spilling over the ground.

As soon as it did, the reaper stopped, letting Dean go. Dean fell to the ground, gasping. Sue Ann fell to her knees beside the spilled blood. "My God, what have you done?" she cried. "He's not your God," Sam spat. The reaper killed Sue Ann, and Sam left her there, going to look for Dean. Dean made it back to the Impala just as Sam approached. "You okay?" Sam asked. Dean shook his head. "Hell of a week."

"Yeah... Alright, come on. We should get going."