|Title||Dream a Little Dream of Me|
|Airdate||February 7, 2008|
|Written by|| Cathryn Humphris|
|Directed by||Steve Boyum|
|Previous episode||Malleus Maleficarum|
|Next episode||Mystery Spot|
|Episode list||Season 3|
Bobby is poisoned with a dream potion and lapses into a deadly coma, so Sam and Dean take the potion themselves to enter the dream and save him, but to do so they all must confront their own personal nightmares.
Bobby is walking around his house with a flashlight. He seems to be looking for something, when suddenly he hears an odd noise. He continues to walk around, when suddenly a woman comes attacks him, screaming.
Bobby is laying in bed, asleep, in a motel. The door opens and a maid walks in, pushing a cart. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says when she sees him. She starts to leave, but stops when he doesn’t respond. “Sir?” she says, then approaches the bed. “Wake up,” she says, poking him. He still doesn’t move, but we see flashes of the woman screaming and attacking him. The maid continues to shake him. “Sir, wake up!” she cries, then “I need some help in here!”
Sam is sitting at a bar, with a glass in his hand. Dean walks in, and come over. “There you are. What’re you doing?” he asks. “Having a drink,” says Sam. “It’s two in the afternoon and you’re drinking whiskey?” Dean says. “I drink whiskey all the time,” Sam replies. “No you don’t,” Dean argues. “What’s the big deal? You get sloppy in bars, you hit on chicks all the time. Why can’t I?” Sam says. He then says that he tried. “Tried to do what?” Dean asks. “To save you,” Sam goes on. Dean looks irritated, and sits down. He orders whiskey. “I’m serious, Dean,” Sam says. “No you’re drunk,” Dean replies. “I mean where you’re going? What you’re gonna become? I can’t stop it. I’m starting to think maybe even Ruby can’t stop it,” Sam says, looking at the counter. Dean looks awkward. “But really the thing is, no one can save you,” Sam adds. “That’s what I’ve been telling you,” Dean says. “No, I mean no one can save you because you don’t want to be saved,” Sam cuts in. “How can you care so little about yourself? What’s wrong with you?” The two boys stare at each for a moment, and then Dean’s cellphone rings. He answers it and after a moment looks shocked and says, “What? Where?”
“So what’s the diagnosis?” Sam asks now at the hospital. He and Dean are standing beside Bobby, who is in a hospital bed, still asleep. “We’ve tested everything we can think of to test,” replies the doctor, who is standing nearby. “He seems perfectly healthy.” “Except that he’s comatose,” Dean says. “Mr. Snyderson. You’re his emergency contact. Anything we should know about?” Dean shrugs. “He never gets sick. I mean, he doesn’t even catch colds.” “Doctor, is there anything you can do?” Sam asks. “Look, I’m sorry. But we don’t know what’s causing it. So we don’t know how to treat it. He just went to sleep… and didn’t wake up.”
“So what was Bobby doing in Pittsburgh?” Sam wonders as the two boys walk into Bobby’s hotel room. “I dunno, unless he was taking an extremely lame vacation,” Dean replies. “He was probably working a job, right?” Sam asks. “Well you’d think there’d be some sort of sign, of something, you know? Research, newspaper clippings… a friggin pizza box, or a beer can,” Dean says. Sam opens the closet, to see a bunch of clothes. He turns on the light, pushes back the clothes and calls Dean over. “Good old Bobby, always covering up his tracks,” Dean says, as he looks at the bunch of newspaper clippings and pictures tacked on the back wall of the closet. “Can you make heads or tails of this?” Sam asks. Dean reaches forward and takes down a picture of a plant. “Silene Capensis, of course, means absolutely nothing to me.” “Here. Obit,” Sams says, picking it up. “Dr. Walter Gregg, 64, University Neurologist.” He goes on to say that they don’t know what he died of, he just went to sleep and didn’t wake up. “Alright. So let’s say Bobby was looking into the doc’s death, you know, hunting something…” “That started hunting him,” Dean finishes. “Yeah,” Sam says. “Alright, stay here, see if you can make heads or tails of this,” Dean says, pointing to the closet. “What’re you gonna do?” Sam asks. “I’m gonna look into the good doctor myself,” Dean replies.
“So you’re Dr. Gregg’s lab assistant,” Dean says, as a woman lets him into the doctor’s office. “That’s right,” she replies. “So his death must have come as a shock for you,” Dean says. “Yeah it did. But still. Going to sleep peaceful? It’s what you wish for, right?” she says, smiling. “Yeah. Right. So, Dr. Gregg studied sleeping disorders? Dreams?” Dean asks, picking up one of the doctor’s books. “I don’t understand, I already went over this with the other detective,” she says. “You already talked to another detective?” Dean asks. “Yes. A very nice older man with a beard,” she describes. “Well I’d love to hear it again,” Dean says, picking up a pen and paper. “Thing is, I’m sorta busy. Maybe we could do this later?” she says. “Sure,” Dean says. “We’ll just bring you down to the station later, get it all on tape, do it all official-like.” “Look, I didn’t know anything about Dr. Gregg’s experiments. Not until I was cleaning out his files,” she says, looking awkward. “His experiments, the ones he was conducting on… sleeping?” Dean says. “No one knew, okay? Not the University, not anybody,” she goes on. “I already spoke with a lawyer, and he told me I can’t be held liable for anything.” “Maybe you couldn’t, but that was before the new evidence came into play,” Dean says quickly. “New evidence. What new evidence?” she asks. Dean pauses for a moment before saying, “I’m not at liberty to say.” “Look, I’m just a grad student. This was just a gig to cover tuition,” she says desperately. “Maybe so, but still, this – this could go on your permanent record,” Dean replies. “Unless you hand over the doctor’s research to me. All of it.”
Dean is showing a young man his ID, and the man lets him in. “Look, I don’t know what the RA said, but I was growing ferns,” he says. “Take it easy, that’s not why I’m here,” Dean replies. “I’m here to talk about Dr. Gregg’s sleep study.” “Yeah, Dr. Gregg, he just died, right?” the guy asks. “Yeah. You were one of his test subjects, right?” “Yeah,” the guy replies, then reaches into his fridge to pull out a couple of beers. He offers one to Dean. “Unless you’re on… duty, or whatever?” “I guess I can make an exception,” Dean says, taking it. They both drink. Dean asks him what the doctor was testing him for, and he replies that it was because he can’t dream. “I had this bike accident when I was a kid? And I haven’t had a dream since,” he says. “Until the study.” “What’d the doc give you?” Dean asks. “It was this yellow tea. Smelled awful. Tasted worse,” he replies. “What’d it do?” Dean asks. “I passed right out. And had the most vivid, super-intense dream. Kind like a bad acid trip, you know? And that was it. I stepped out of the study right after that. I didn’t like it. To tell you the truth? It kinda scared me.”
Dean is sitting by Bobby’s bed when Sam walks in. “How is he?” he asks. “No change,” Dean replies. “Whatcha got?” Sam puts down a big pile of papers. “Well, considering what you told me about the doc’s experiments, Bobby’s condition’s starting to make a lot more sense,” Sam replies. He tells Dean that the plant they were looking at earlier, Silene Capensis, also known as African Dream Root, has been used by shaman and medicine men for centuries.” He goes on to say that if they believe the legends, it’s used for dream-walking, entering another person’s dream and poking around in their head. “And I take it we believe the legends,” Dean says. “When don’t we?” Sam asks. “And this Dream Root’s just the tip of the iceberg. You start using enough of it, with enough practice, you can become a regular Freddy Kreuger. You can control anything. You can make bad dreams good, or good dreams bad.” “And start killing people in their sleep,” Dean guesses. “For example,” says Sam. “So let’s say this doctor’s testing this stuff on his patients…” “Somebody gets pissed at him, decides to give him a little dream-visit, and he goes nighty-night,” Dean finishes. “But what about Bobby? If the killer came after him, how come he’s still alive?” Sam wonders. “I dunno,” Dean says.
Bobby's dream - Meanwhile, Bobby is still getting attacked by the screaming woman. He is in a room now, and jams the door shut with a pole so she can’t get in. He starts yelling for help as she continues trying to break in.
At the hospital - As Dean and Sam walk out of the hospital, Dean asks, “So how do we find our homicidal Sandman?” “I dunno. It could be anyone,” Sam replies. He guesses that maybe it’s one of the doctor’s patients, but Dean says that he doesn’t know how many the doc had or who they all were. Sam laughs, and says that in any other case, they’d be calling Bobby for help. “You’re right! Let’s go talk to him,” Dean says. “Sure, but I think we’ll find the conversation a little one-sided,” Sam replies. “Not if we’re trippin’ on a little Dream root,” Dean replies. “What?” Sam says. “You heard me,” Dean replies. Sam says that they don’t know what’s crawling around in Bobby’s head. “How bad could it be?” Dean asks. “Bad,” Sam answers. Dean isn’t concerned. “It’s Bobby,” he says. “You’re right,” Sam agrees. “Problem is, we’re fresh out of African Dream root. So unless you know somebody who can score some…” Dean thinks for a second, then says “Crap.” “What?” Sam asks. “Bela,” Dean replies. “Crap,” Sam agrees. “You’re actually suggesting we ask her for a favour?” “I’m feeling dirty just thinking about it, but yeah,” Dean replies.
Sam is sitting at his laptop at the motel when someone knocks on the door. Sam opens it, and Bela walks in. “Bela. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you’d show up,” Sam says. “Well I’m full of surprises,” she replies. “Though truthfully? You want to know why I’m here?” “Why?” Sam asks awkwardly, as she starts to take off her coat. “Because of you,” she goes on, taking it off completely. She is wearing a short, low-cut slip underneath. “What are you doing?” Sam asks. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” she says. “What?” Sam asks, right before she starts to kiss him. In a minute, they are rolling around on the bed, kissing. “Sam, Sam… oh Sam,” she is saying.
“Sam! Wake up!” Dean says loudly. Sam is asleep, his head on his arms, and grinning. He sits up, shocked, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth. Dean is grinning. “Dude, you were out!” he says. “And making some serious happy noises. Who were you dreaming about?” “What? No one! Nothing!” Sam says quickly. “Come on, you can tell me. Angelina Jolie?” Dean asks. “No,” Sam says. “Brad Pitt?” Dean asks. “No. No!” Sam answers. “It doesn’t matter.” “Whatever,” Dean replies. “I called Bela.” “Bela? Yeah? What’d she… you know, say?” Sam asks awkwardly. “She gonna help us?” “Shockingly, no, which puts us back at square one. I’ve been trying to decipher the doctor’s hand notes, but unfortunately he has worse handwriting than you. You gonna come help me with this stuff?” “Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec,” Sam says, stretching. There’s a knock on the door, and Dean stands up and opens it. It’s Bela. “You called me, remember?” she says, walking in. “I remember you turning me down,” Dean says. “Well I’m just full of surprises,” she replies. Sam waves awkwardly. “I brought you your African Dream root. Nasty stuff. And not easy to come by,” she says, handing Dean a bottle. “Why the sudden change of heart?” Dean asks. She tells him that she’s doing it for Bobby, not the boys. “Bobby. Why?” Dean asks. “He saved my life once. In Flagstaff,” she replies. “So when do we got on this little mystery tour?” “Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” Dean says. “I don’t trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby’s head.” He puts the bottle of Dream Root in a safe in their closet. “No offense.” “None taken,” she says. “It’s 2 am. Where am I supposed to go?” “Get a room,” Dean suggests. “You…” she says angrily, and leaves. “Nice to – seeing you, Bela,” Sam says quickly. Dean gives him a weird look.
Later, Dean and Sam prepare to take the Dream root as they sit on their beds. Sam remembers just in time that they have to put in Bobby’s hair for the stuff to work, and puts some in each of their glasses. He says they need to drink part of the person’s body whose dream they want to enter. They drink it. “Whew,” says Dean. “Feel anything?” “No,” says Sam. “You feel anything?” “No,” says Dean. “Maybe we got some bad shwag.” “Hey, when did it start raining?” Sam asks. Dean crosses to the window and opens the curtains. “When did it start raining upside down?” He turns back around, and they are no longer in the motel. They don’t know where they are at first, but “Wait a second, imagine a place without the paint job, more cluttered, dusty, books all over the place…” Sam says. “Bobby’s house,” Dean realizes. Sam thinks he sees something moving outside the window, but then looks away. The boys call Bobby, but no one answers. “Dean, I’m gonna go look around outside,” Sam says. “No, stay close!” Dean argues. “Dude, I’ll be fine,” Sam tells him. “Just look around in here. Look, we gotta find him.” “Don’t do anything stupid,” Dean says.
Sam leaves the house, and when he steps outside, it’s daytime, and bright and sunny, even though inside it was night. The door slams behind him when he walks out further. Sam calls Dean, but he doesn’t hear him.
Inside, Dean is still looking around. “Bobby?” he calls. He sees a door, and goes over. “Who’s out there?” says a voice from the other side. “Bobby?” Dean asks. “Dean?” Bobby’s voice replies. “How the hell did you find me?” he asks, coming out. “Sam and I got our hands on some of that Dream Root stuff…” Dean says. “Dream Root? What?” Bobby says. “Dr. Gregg? The experiments?” Dean says. “What the hell are you talking about?” Bobby asks. The lights start to flicker, and Bobby goes back to the door, saying “Hurry!” Dean stops him. “Whoa, you know this is a dream, right?” “What, are you crazy?” Bobby asks. “It’s all a dream, none of it’s real,” Dean says to him. “Does that look made-up?” Bobby asks, pointing over Dean’s shoulder. Dean turns around to see a woman standing there, with blood all over her. The door slams, and Bobby can’t open it. “Bobby, who is that?” Dean asks. “She’s… she’s my wife,” Bobby replies.
Sam is walking around outside still.
“Why, Bobby? Why did you do this to me?” Bobby’s wife is saying. “I’d have rather died than hurt you,” Bobby says. “But you did hurt me. You shoved that knife into me, again and again,” she replies. “You watched me bleed. Watched me die.” “Bobby, she’s not real!” Dean says. “You were possessed, baby! You were rabid, and I didn’t know what I know now,” Bobby says desperately. “I didn’t know how to save you.” “You’re lying. You wanted me dead. If you’d loved me you would’ve found a way!” she screams. “Come on,” says Dean, pulling Bobby after him through another door. He closes it just as Bobby’s wife reaches it.
Sam is walking around past a clothesline, which has sheets hanging on it. As he turns around, the man who was Dr. Gregg’s test patient hits him with a baseball bat and knocking him down “Who are you?” Sam says. “Who’re you?” the guy asks. “You’re not supposed to be here.” “You’re one to talk, this is my friend’s head,” Sam argues. The guy says that this is self-defense, that Bobby came after him. “Maybe cause you’re a killer,” Sam says. “You should be nicer to me,” the guy replies. “In here, you’re just an insect. I’m a god.”
Bobby’s wife is still banging on the door. Dean is trying to tell Bobby that it’s all a nightmare. “I killed her,” Bobby says. “Bobby, it’s all dream. You can wake up!” Dean says. “Just let her kill me already,” Bobby says. “Bobby you gotta snap out of this now!” Dean orders. “I’m not gonna let you die, you’re like a father to me! You’ve gotta believe me, please!” “I’m dreaming?” Bobby says incredulously. “Yes! Now take control of it!” Dean says. Bobby concentrates, and the banging on the door suddenly stops. Dean opens the door, and she’s gone. “I don’t believe it,” Bobby says. “Believe it,” Dean says. “And would you please wake up?”
Outside, the guy says “Sweet dreams.” But just as he’s about to hit Sam with the baseball bat, Dean, Sam, and Bobby all wake up.
At the hospital, Dean and Bobby are looking at the pictures and newspaper clippings as Dean asks, “Hey Bobby. All that stuff… that stuff with your wife. Did it actually happen?” “Everybody got into hunting somehow,” Bobby replies. “I’m sorry,” Dean says. “Don’t be sorry,” Bobby cuts in. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be lost in there. Or dead. Thank you.” Sam walks in, and says “So, stoner boy wasn’t in his dorm… my guess is he’s long gone by now.” “Not much of a stoner,” Bobby says. “His name’s Jeremy Frost. Full on genius, 160 IQ. Which is saying something, seeing as his dad took a baseball bat to his head. The injury resulted in him developing Charcot-Wilbrand Syndrome. "Here’s the father of the year,” says Bobby as he passes Sam a picture. “He died before Jeremy was ten.” “He looks like a real sweetheart,” Sam says. Bobby says that the injury made it so he could never dream again. “So he started dosing on the Dream Root. How did he know how to dig up your worst nightmare and throw it at you?” Dean asks. Bobby says that he was rooting around in his head for a while, who knows what he saw in there. “Yeah how did he get there in the first place? Isn’t he supposed to have some of your hair, or DNA or something…” Sam asks. “Yeah. Before I knew it was him. He offered me a beer. Dumbest friggin thing…” Bobby replies. “Awww, I dunno, it wasn’t that dumb,” Dean says quickly. “Dean you didn’t,” Sam says. “I was thirsty,” Dean admits. “That’s great, now he can come after either one of you,” Sam says irritably. “Well we just gotta find him first,” Dean replies. “Well you better work fast. And coffee up. Cause the one thing we cannot do – is fall asleep,” Bobby tells them.</span>
Two days later “If this Jeremy guy’s not a friggin ghost, where the hell could he be?” Dean says angrily as they drive. “Dean are you sure you don’t want me to drive? You seem a little… caffeinated,” Sam says. “Well thanks for the news flash, Edison!” Dean retorts. His cellphone rings, and it’s Bobby. He tells them he still doesn’t have anything. “What the hell, Bobby!” Dean yells. “Don’t yell at me, boy! I’m working my ass off!” Bobby says angrily. “Sorry, I’m sorry… I’m tired,” Dean apologizes. Bela is putting down cards, and when Bobby asks her what she’s got, she replies that sometimes the spirit world is in a chatty mood, and sometimes it isn’t. “She’s got nothing,” Bobby replies. “Great! Well I’m just gonna go blow my brains out now!” Dean yells, hanging up.
“Let me ask you something,” Bobby says to Bela. “What’re you doing helping us?” “Bobby, I’m surprised you don’t remember,” she says. “Flagstaff?” “Oh yeah. Right,” Bobby says. “Flagstaff.”
Dean drives down a forest road, and stops halfway down. “Alright, that’s it, I’m done,” he says, turning off the car and leaning back. “What’re you doing?” Sam asks. “Taking myself a long overdue nap,” Dean replies. “Dean, Jeremy can come after you,” Sam argues. “That’s the idea,” Dean says. “Excuse me?” Sam gapes. “We can’t find him so let him come to us,” Dean explains. “On his own turf? Where he’s basically a god?” Sam says. “I can handle it,” Dean says easily. “Not on your own you can’t,” Sam replies, pulling out one of Dean’s hairs. “Ow! What’re you doing?” Dean asks. “Coming in with you,” says Sam. “Why not? At least then it’ll be two against one.” “Cause I don’t want you diggin’ around in my head,” Dean says uneasily. “Too bad,” Sam replies.
In a short time, Sam wakes up. He shakes Dean awake. Dean wakes up with a jump. “For the love of God,” he says tiredly. “What’re we still doing here?” “I have no idea,” Sam says. “There’s something out there,” Sam says, as they hear something odd. They get out of the car, and in a moment they hear music start playing. They see Lisa, Dean’s old girlfriend, sitting on a blanket on the ground. “Hey,” she says. “You gonna sit down?” Dean stares at her. “Come on! We only have an hour before we have to pick Ben up from baseball,” she says, smiling. Dean looks at Sam. “I’ve never had this dream before.” He pauses, glancing at Sam out of the corner of his eyes. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Dean?” she says. “I love you.” And then she’s gone. “We should go,” Dean says. At that moment, Sam spots Jeremy in the woods. They chase after him, but get split up. Dean suddenly realizes that he’s in a long hallway, with trees painted on the walls. There are lots of doors.
Sam is still in the woods. He calls Dean.
Dean goes into one of the doors, because it opened by itself. Inside, he sees a guy sitting at a table, switching a light on and off. “Jeremy?” he says. The guy turns around, and it’s Dean. “Hey Dean,” he says. “Well aren’t you a handsome son of a gun,” Dean says. “We need to talk,” his double says. “I get it. I get it, I’m my own worst nightmare. Is that it?” Dean asks. “Joke all you want, smart ass,” the other Dean says. “But you can’t lie to me. I know the truth. How dead you are inside. How worthless you feel. I know how you look into a mirror… and hate what you see.” Dean stares at him for a minute and then says, “Sorry, pal. It’s not gonna work. You’re not real.” “Sure I am,” says his double. “I’m you.” “I don’t think so,” Dean says. “Cause see, this is my siesta. All I gotta do is snap my fingers, and you go bye bye.” He snaps his fingers, but nothing happens. He does it a couple more times, but still nothing. “I’m not going anywhere,” the double says. “And neither are you.” The door slams and locks. “Like I said,” he says, holding up a shotgun. “We need to talk.”
Meanwhile, Sam wakes up in the car. Dean is still asleep. He reaches over. “Dean, hey. Wake up,” he says, but it’s not Dean, it’s Jeremy. He hits Sam, and Sam falls out of the car. “Boy, you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you?” Jeremy asks, walking around the car. “You’re a psycho,” says Sam, on the ground. “You’re wrong,” Jeremy replies. “Yeah? Tell that to Dr. Gregg!” Sam says accusingly. “The doc? No no, the doc’s the one who got me hooked on this stuff, and then he took it away,” Jeremy says. “But I needed it, and he wouldn’t let me have it.” “So you killed him,” Sam finishes. “I needed to dream again,” Jeremy says. “You know what that’s like, not being able to dream? You never rest, not really. It’s like being awake for fifteen years.” “And let me guess. That makes you go crazy,” Sam says. “I just wanna be left alone,” Jeremy says, leaning close. “I just wanna dream.” “Sorry,” Sam says. “Can’t do that.” “Wrong answer,” Jeremy says, and Sam suddenly finds himself pinned to the ground. He can’t move. “I’m getting better and better at this. Stronger and stronger all the time. But you and your brother? You’re not waking up. Not this time. I’m not gonna let you,” Jeremy finishes.
“You’re going to hell, and you won’t lift a finger to stop it,” the other Dean is saying to Dean still. “Talk about low self-esteem. Then again, I guess it’s not much of a life worth saving…” “Wake up Dean, come on, wake up!” Dean says desperately. “I mean after all, you got nothing outside of Sam. You are nothing,” the other Dean continues. “You’re as mindless and obedient as an attack dog.” “That’s not true,” Dean says. “No? What are the things you want? What are you things you dream? Your car? That’s Dad’s. Your favourite leather jacket? Dad’s. Your music? Dad’s. Do you even have an original thought? All there is, is watch out for Sammy! Look out for your little brother, boy! You can still hear your dad’s voice in your head, clear as a bell.” “Just shut up,” says Dean, getting upset. “I mean think about it. All he ever did was train you. Boss you around. But Sam. Sam he doted on. Sam he loved.” “I mean it,” says Dean. “I’m getting angry.” “Dad knew who you really were. A good soldier and nothing else,” the other Dean goes on. “Daddy’s blunt little instrument. Your own father didn’t care whether you lived or died, why should you!” Dean snaps and shoves the other Dean against the wall violently, saying “You son of a bitch! My father was an obsessed bastard!” He continues to beat the other Dean. “All that crap he dumped on me about protecting Sam? That was his crap! He’s the one who couldn’t protect his family! He’s the one who let Mom die! Who wasn’t there for Sam! I always was! I didn’t deserve what he put on me, and I don’t deserve to go to hell!” Dean shoots the other Dean with the shotgun, twice.
Meanwhile, Jeremy is beating Sam with the baseball bat.
Dean approaches the dead Dean, and suddenly its eyes open. They are black. “You can’t escape me, Dean!” he says, sitting forward. “And this? This is what you’re gonna become!”
Jeremy is telling Sam that there’s nothing he can’t do in here. “Because of the Dream Root,” Sam says. “That’s right,” Jeremy replies. “Well you’re forgetting something. I took the Dream Root too,” Sam says. “Jeremy? Jeremy!” somebody yells. Jeremy looks up to see his dad. “You answer me when I’m talking to you, boy!” his father yells. Sam takes the chance to grab the baseball bat and hit Jeremy with it. We see that where he’s hiding, where he was sleeping, he wakes up, and dies. Both Dean and Sam suddenly wake up, in the Impala.
“So you did a little dream-weaving of your own in there,” Bobby says as he walks down the hall with Sam. “Yeah, I just sort of concentrated, and it happened, you know?” Sam replies. Bobby asks if it had anything to do with his “psychic stuff”, and Sam says he doesn’t think so. They go into the room, where Dean is just hanging up the phone. “Hey, you guys seen Bela? She’s not in her room, and she’s not answering the phone.” “No. She must have taken off or something,” Sam suggests. “Just like that? That’s a little weird,” Dean says. “Well if you ask me, what’s weird is why she helped us in the first place,” Bobby puts in. “Thought you saved her life,” Dean says. “What the hell you talking about?” Bobby says. “That thing in Flagstaff,” Dean replies. “That thing in Flagstaff was an amulet. I gave her a good deal, that’s all,” Bobby says, looking confused. “Well then why…?” Sam begins. “You boys better check your pockets,” Bobby says. Both boys immediately search their jacket pockets. “Not literally,” Bobby says, and Dean hurries to the safe. “No, no no!” he says, opening it. It’s empty. “The Colt! Bela stole the Colt!” Sam says, furious. “Dammit, boys!” Bobby says angrily. “Pack your crap,” Dean says. “Why? Where’re we going?” Sam asks. “We go hunt the bitch down,” Dean replies.
The boys are packing the car when Dean asks Sam, “Hey Sam, I was wondering. When you were in my head, what did you see?” “Just Jeremy,” Sam replies. “He kept me separated from you. Easier to beat my brains out that way, I guess. What about you? You never said.” “Nothing,” Dean replies. “I was looking for you the whole time.” They get in the Impala. “Sam?” Dean begins. “Yeah?” Sam says. “I’ve been doing some thinking. And the thing is… I don’t wanna die. I don’t wanna go to hell,” Dean admits. “Alright. Yeah. We’ll find a way to save you,” Sam promises. Dean looks at him. “’Kay, good.” He remembers the demon, saying “You can’t escape me, Dean! This is what you’re gonna become.” The demon-Dean snaps his fingers.
Featured Supernatural BeingEdit
The Cast Of A Not So Clear DreamEdit
- G. Michael Gray as Jeremy Frost
- Cindy Sampson as Lisa Braeden
- Myriam Sirois as Maya Sanders
- Elizabeth Marleau as Karen Singer
- Adrian Formosa as Jeremy's Father
"Long Train Runnin'" by The Doobie Brothers
"Dream A Little Dream Of Me" by Mama Cass Elliot
- This episode was named after the Oz-episode with the same name. This is, however, not the first time Supernatural-episodes have been named after episodes of other tv-series, as well as song names.
Sam: "One problem though, we're fresh out of African Dream Root. So unless you know someone who can score some..."
Sam: "Bela? Crap. Huh. You're actually suggesting we ask her for a favor?"
Dean: "I feel dirty just thinking about it, but yeah."
('Sam 'waking up smiling and drooling after having a sex dream about Bela)
Dean: SAM! Wake up!..... Dude you were out and making some serious happy noises. Who were you dreaming about?
Sam: What? No one. Nothing.
Dean: Come on, you can tell me... Angelina Jolie?
Dean: (Looks away a second) Brad Pitt?