Henry Winchester.
That's our grandfather.
You're Men of Letters, correct?
Our father taught us how to be hunters.
You're legacies.
Preceptors, beholders,
chroniclers of all that which man does not understand.
Larry Ganem and Albert Magnus ... all deceased.
Albertus Magnus ...
his was the alias we'd use when going incognito.
Here's the deal ...
you're gonna tell us how to hack an angel,
and I'm gonna give you some human blood.
Word is you're jonesing for it.
The Knights of Hell aren't exactly the dying kind.
But there is something that can kill a knight.
The First Blade.
It's the bloody mark of Cain.
Without the Mark, the blade is useless.
The Mark can be transferred to someone who's worthy.
But you have to know, with the mark comes a great burden.
So, where is The Blade?
I threw it to the bottom of the deepest ocean.
You can't search the bottom of the ocean, but I can.
So, I'll find it and bring it to its new owner.
Come on, Crowley. Pick up!
Where the hell is he?
It's not like he's got a social life.
Uh, are you actually worried?
Too busy inflicting pain to answer.
Leave a message. Guy's got one job ...
find the First Blade, bring it back. How hard is that?
It's Crowley. He's not exactly a team player.
Yeah, but his ass is on the line, too.
He goes missing for weeks on end without a peep?
Well, not one that makes sense, anyway.
Listen to this.
Dean. Um...
Wait a second.
Did he... Drunk-dial you?
Come on.
Lola?
My King?
My après-consummation treat.
On it, sire.
Pantry's almost empty.
We'll need another volunteer.
You should add that to your "to do" list.
Ahh.
Lola, pet?
I do believe I'm ravenous.
And a weakling.
No.
Oh, Richard, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry, but ... but you ... you are our last hope.
If you don't help us...
Victor Laszlo will die in Casablanca.
What of it? I'm gonna die in Casablanca.
It's a good spot for it.
Now if you ...
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
My name is Aldo.
My intel is for Abaddon...
Minion.
And she appreciates the work you've been doing.
At great peril.
But she is tied up securing her place
as new leader of the Kingdom.
She assures you that all relevant information
can be conveyed to me.
So... Update?
The King is off his game.
Except for sex, pizza,
and human blood, he has no interests.
He can't function without me.
Well played.
I should mention he keeps getting phone calls
from those Winchesters.
They leave voicemails for him.
Saying?
Mostly, they're rude.
One mentioned something called the First Blade.
Interesting.
Follow how this develops and report in.
Oh, I will.
And when I do,
I expect to report directly to the next Queen of Hell.
Capiche?
All right, do it.
Daemon, esto subiecto voluntati meae.
Winchesters.
I-is that, uh...?
Well, that explains a lot.
Okay, uh, look... Snooki ...
can I call you "Snooki"?
No. It's Nicole now.
Okay, then. Nicole...
We can do this one of two ways.
The easy way ... you talk.
Or... The easier way ...
you still talk.
I vote for number two.
We just want some basic information on Crowley. That's it.
Google him. Are we done?
Whoa! Not the face! Are you crazy?
Listen, guys, what happens in Hell stays in Hell.
I got nothin'.
But you do have a pretty sweet deal with Crowley in charge.
If Abaddon wins, you can kiss all that goodbye ...
all the fancy cars, the book deals.
Show biz can be tough.
I'm doing fine. Thanks.
Oh. Well, good luck
landing your next gig inside a Devil's Trap.
What do you want to know?
Where is Crowley?
Last time I heard, he was somewhere in the western Pacific.
Makes sense. Really?
Floating around in the ocean while his kingdom goes up in flames?
Meaning?
Hell's gettin' crazy.
Even the loyalists want to sign on with Abaddon.
She's gonna make her move.
Are we done? I got a thing.
Exorcizamus te,
omnis immundus spiritus...
Seriously? An exorcism?
We had a deal! See ya, Snooks.
Honey, I'm home.
Hello, pumpkin.
Did you have a nice day?
Lola did some shopping.
Looks like Lola did a lot of shopping.
But not all of it's for me.
Looky, looky.
I hope it's a good vintage.
Well, you look like you could use a little pick-me-up.
I just love what it does for you.
Do you?
Unh!
You tried to play me?
I play the tune!
Everyone else dances to it.
Got it?
Yes! I ... I'm your slave.
You're my rodent ...
my little rodent who went scurrying off
to Abaddon to rat on me.
No! No.
Do you really think some other lowlife
wouldn't sell you out?
I thought you were a smart girl ...
a girl I could've helped.
You're joking, right?
You help me?
Look at yourself.
You couldn't help anyone.
Hmm.
Hey.
So... Cain said the First Blade was tossed
in the deepest ocean, right?
That's the Mariana Trench.
Maybe Crowley found it, and it's a double-cross.
That doesn't make sense.
He wants me to power it up and kill the ginger. He set it up.
Okay. A-assuming he does show up with it,
Crowley is only useful to us until we have the Blade.
Yeah. So?
So...
There's nothing stopping us from using it on him, right?
Nothing at all.
Speak of the devil.
Did you find the First Blade?
Not exactly.
Well, then, what, exactly?
I'm in... a jam of sorts.
Thought you might help.
Hello, boys.
And what do you call this?
Refreshments?
What's in the bag, Crowley? Nothing.
Really? Maybe I can, uh...
What, are you knocking over blood banks?
Come on, guys.
Look at you. You're a mess.
You know, we were counting on you. You let us down.
Your slimy followers were counting on you to kill Abaddon,
and you let them down.
The man with all the mojo ... Captain Evil.
Oh, it's pathetic.
What is this?
An intervention?
You need to focus, Crowley.
Get a grip!
What, you just gonna let Hell go to Hell?
You don't know what it's like to be human!
It's your DNA.
It's my addiction,
my cross, my burden!
All right, take it easy.
I see the darkness of it now, the Anthony Weiner of it.
It makes you needy.
I needed her.
Lola used me.
She reported everything I did back to Abaddon.
Crowley...
Did you tell her about the First Blade?
I don't know.
Things get a trifle blurry when I'm medicated.
Great.
If he told Lola, she definitely told Abaddon.
Which means that Abaddon's in the hunt for this thing, too.
All right, you know what? This crap ends now.
You're cut off. Okay?
Kicking it. Cold turkey.
Back in this fetid pit.
Could at least have added some throw pillows.
Focus.
Okay.
You swept the Mariana Trench. And...?
And the First Blade was not, as hoped, in the Trench.
It had, in fact, been scooped up by an unmanned sub,
from whom it was stolen by a research assistant,
who reportedly sold it to Portuguese smugglers who,
in turn, lost it to Moroccan pirates in a poker game.
What?
Poor moose.
It's always a little tricky keeping up, isn't it?
What are you doing?
I'm still a little tainted by humanity.
Makes me sentimental.
Well, stop.
You and I both know we shared a mo back in that church.
And on some level, we are bonded.
Crowley, the only reason you are alive
is that we need your help to deal with Abaddon
'cause she is an even worse pile of crap than you are.
And that is the extent of my concern for you.
Got it?
Okay. What happened after the pirates?
What is Crowley doing?
Stealing candy.
He is ... he's ... he's stealing candy.
You know, at least when Cass was human,
he was an okay guy.
Should've known Crowley would be a douche version.
Hey. Hey!
Cut it out, man!
Image!
You're the king of rotten. Act like it.
You really think this guy's gonna show up?
I mean, this isn't exactly a place
where million-dollar deals go down.
Look, word is, this André Develin character
bought the Blade from the pirates,
and he's been shopping it around.
That's all I know.
Hey, heads up.
Mr. Develin, we spoke on the phone.
You said you represent a serious collector
with an interest in a private transaction.
Did he?
Oh. Well, what he meant to say was,
is that we are with... The FBI.
Then good evening.
Wait a second. We just want some answers.
Read Sartre. Jean-Paul Sartre.
I'm merely a facilitator
between the buyer and the seller ... a conduit.
So, unless I'm being detained ...
So, am I?
Being detained?
Not at the... moment.
No, but we've got our eyes on you.
National Institute of Antiquities.
Gin.
Again.
Brought you guys something for your shift.
What's going on?
I don't have much for you guys.
The guards were good men.
They'd been here for years ... vetted, honest.
But... But?
Security camera shows a research assistant
caught them breaking into vault number one.
That's her?
Gets weirder.
Like I said.
Anything special about the particular vault they opened?
Vault number one is where they keep rare, new acquisitions
while they're being examined.
So what was stolen?
That's the kicker ... nothing.
The curator, Dr. McElroy,
said the vault's been empty for weeks.
Excuse me. Detective?
Okay, so, just connecting the dots here ...
the Blade was likely put in there when it first got here.
The guards were obviously demons, so...
What? When the vault turned out to be empty,
they killed their guard meat-suits
and smoked out? And reported back to who?
Abaddon?
She's closing in.
So, the First Blade was never on display?
No authenticated item by that name
was ever on these premises.
"Authenticated."
Dr. McElroy, this Blade was stolen
and smuggled into the U.S.
In violation of treaties with several governments.
We can compel you to speak.
"Compel"?
And what might that involve?
All right, look, I did acquire the so-called First Blade.
And carbon dating did peg it to biblical times,
but the authentication proved unreliable.
So it was in the vault.
I removed it myself.
The guards didn't know.
And where is it now?
Several weeks ago,
a confidential offer was made to purchase it.
I was afraid we would never authenticate the thing, so ...
Who was the buyer?
Sorry.
The buyer insisted on absolute secrecy.
Well... federal statutes trump your little deal.
So... the buyer?
And you'll get it out of me one way or another,
won't you, Agent?
Hmm.
I never did know his real identity.
He called himself "Magnus."
Don't ask me where he lives. I have no idea.
But I do have a meeting.
So, here is my number, should you need anything else.
What?
Did you catch that? "Magnus"?
"Albert Magnus"?
The name the Men of Letters used when they want to be incognito?
Yeah, but we know that all of the Men of Letters are dead.
Do we?
Turndown service?
I'd like a mint on my pillow.
What do you know about the Men of Letters massacre of 1958?
We know Abaddon missed our grandfather and Larry Ganem.
Was there anybody else?
Let me get this straight.
You keep me locked up in this closet,
ignore my suffering,
and then come barging in here and demand my help?
More or less, yeah.
Did I or did I not keep my end of the bargain the other night?
Quite brilliantly, I might add. We are partners!
And you owe me!
"Owe" you?
I wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for you two.
You shoot me up. You make me a junkie.
You keep me stashed away for months
while my kingdom falls apart?
What do you want?
It's not a very good scotch, is it?
Okay, Crowley, we have gone through the records
for the entire membership in 1958.
Every single name matches the men who were killed.
That would be the active membership, correct?
Were you two dropped on your heads a great deal?
Like I told you, rumor has it
that a rogue member was tossed out on his arse.
Does that make him "active"?
Seriously, boys, how did you ever function without me?
Well, hello, Miss Ichigatsu.
"Infamati et obliterati."
"Dishonored and forgotten."
Wow.
This guy was something.
Tough name. Yeah, Cuthbert Sinclair.
I'd have just gone with "Magnus."
Looks like he designed most of the warding
that keeps the bunker safe.
Says here he was named "Master of Spell",
right after he initiated.
I guess his work got a little crazy.
The leadership called it "eccentric" and "irresponsible"
good. So these are the projects that he proposed
the last two years he was here.
Look at this ... "rejected."
"Rejected."Rejected"
So difficult ...
brilliant, ahead of your time, despised for it.
Trust me, I know.
"Formal separation from Men of Letters ...
April 1956."
He missed the massacre.
I never knew his name, but I heard someone was out.
Did my damndest to find him.
Thought he might be my way inside this joint.
So where'd you look?
So this is where your demons tracked him to?
Exact spot.
My boys never could find him.
I'm sensing nothing, so if he's here,
he's warded up to the gills.
Well, he was a genius at it, right?
Sure as hell ain't gonna be found by a bunch of demons.
Oh, like he's gonna open his heart to you lot,
because you're such prizes?
Better ... we're legacies.
All right, if he's so bent on hiding, maybe he's watching.
Give it a shot.
Cuthbert Sinclair ... uh, Magnus ... whatever.
We're Sam and Dean Winchester, Henry Winchester's grandsons.
And Men of Letters, ourselves.
We know what happened back in the day.
We don't necessarily agree with it.
We figured...
Maybe you want to tell your side of the story.
Which way?
Bravo!
Well done.
Sorry about all the theatricality.
I just wanted to see what you two were made of.
So, what, are we underground?
No.
No, my fortress is right where you were standing.
But it's invisible.
Then you must be Cuthbert Sinclair.
Ugh.
I haven't gone by that moniker in, oh... 57 years now.
Well, you're looking good for a guy pushing... 90?
Well, thanks, sport.
There's a spell for damn near everything.
I am impressed, though.
You did exactly what you should've done.
Though I am gonna miss those two from my zoo.
Your zoo?
Oh, gentlemen, you are in the midst
of the greatest collection
of supernatural rarities and antiquities on the planet.
I'm sorry.
Did you say that you were Men of Letters?
I thought that whole thing died out after '58.
Well, we are ... we are legacies.
But actually, uh...
We're hunters.
Hunters?
Wow!
Hunters.
With the key to the kingdom!
The boys must be spinning in their graves.
Damn snobs.
Bunch of librarians, if you ask me.
Although I was always fond of Henry.
I was his mentor, you know?
Yeah, till the squares gave me the boot.
Yeah.
'Course, he came here to visit me, in secret.
Called out to me, same as you did.
Oh, yes.
Quite the wild hair, your grandfather was.
Listen, Magnus, uh...
We got ourselves a little situation.
Abaddon, the last Knight of Hell,
is looking to up her pay grade and take over the place.
Things never change, do they?
I kept telling the boys over and over again ...
I would say, "we could stop all this.
"We could rid the world of monsters
once and for all if we just put our minds to it",
but, "oh, no," they said.
"No, no, no. It's not our place.
We're here to study. We're here to catalog"
yeah, yeah, no, we get it. They're, uh... geeks.
Mm.
But she can be stopped.
But we need something that we hear you have ...
the First Blade.
Hmm. I see.
Interesting.
But if you'd really done your homework,
you would know that it's absolutely useless,
unless, of course, you're possessing the Mark ...
the Mark of Cain.
Oh, my.
How did you come by that?
Listen, if Abaddon takes over,
the one thing she wants more than anything
is to make hell on earth.
Not even you can escape that.
And they say all hunters are morons.
It's right there behind you, gentlemen.
Listen, if you're serious about taking action,
this ... this is taking action.
You loan us that Blade, and we will stop the bitch.
Hmm. Let me think about it.
All right, I've thought about it.
Abi, ab oculis meis!
Magnus has Dean.
What did you do with my brother?
Don't worry. He's fine.
But I did what any good collector would do ...
I separated the ordinary from the extraordinary.
I had the First Blade.
And now I have the Mark of Cain to complete the set.
Yeah, well, problem is, it's attached.
So how about you loan me the Blade
and I take care of business?
Dean, I am offering you the moon here ...
to be part of the greatest collection of all time,
to be young forever.
Let me teach you my secrets. Hmm?
Be my companion.
I have to be honest with you,
it has gotten lonely here over the years.
When you were saying any of that,
did it feel at all creepy?
Yeah.
I'm just gonna grab the Blade and go.
One little design flaw to the place ...
no windows, no doors.
Well, in that case...
I'll just make my own. Shen ti rán shao!
Hey.
Aah! Eh?
Tricky little spell, that first one, right?
Chinese. Ah.
Cheap magician's trick on that one ... picked your pocket.
Nice gun.
Welcome to the collection, Dean.
You mind?
Who would have thunk it, eh, moose ...
you and me, same team, in the trenches.
When this is over, we can get matching tattoos.
Just to be clear, Crowley,
we are not on the same anything.
By the way, since the place is warded,
your powers are useless, which means you are useless,
even more so than usual.
You're gonna need another set of hands when you get in there,
unless you have other volunteers in mind.
Thanks. Pass.
If memory serves me,
I'm the one who helped your brother
find Cain so that we could find the Blade,
so that Dean could receive the Mark.
I'm the one who flushed
that lout Gadreel out of your noggin.
So, lately, big boy, I've seen mo playing time than you.
Crowley, will you please shut the hell up?
Oh, you're a really sorry piece of work. You know that?
Holed up in here, doing nothing.
You bitch about the Men of Letters.
You're way worse.
Should we fire it up?
What do you say?
Go to hell.
Oh, come on, Dean.
This is the object of your quest.
Tell me Henry Winchester's grandson
isn't curious to see if it works.
Give me your hand.
Give me... your hand.
That's it.
Good.
Next time, it'll be easier.
You'll get used to the feelings, even welcome them.
Here's something.
Apparently, he wanted to make the entire
Men of Letters bunker invisible.
All physical points of entry were to be eliminated,
"and entrance would only be gained...
By spell."
Oh.
We're gonna need some things.
You actually might turn out to be useful, Crowley.
You'll come to understand, Dean ... nothing can stop us.
Anything, anyone we want to own or destroy is ours.
Well, how about this, Magnus?
How about I take a knee?
Then what are you gonna do?
Huh? You gonna kill me?
'Cause without this thing on my arm,
that Blade's nothing but a hunk of bone with teeth.
Hmm.
Well, I'm not asking you for your cooperation.
I'm just taking it.
Mentem tuam ac voluntatem adsumo.
Interesting effect, huh?
All thought, all will just...
Drained out of you.
I do this enough,
you'll be ready for whatever I have in mind.
I did good, eh, moose?
Everything on the list.
You're welcome.
Remember ... stay close, do what I say,
and shut the hell up.
I'm growing on you, aren't I?
Ingressum domi dona mihi.
Love what he's done with the place.
Take me to my brother.
Sam! No!
Unh!
Shape-shifter.
You see? There are benefits to keeping a zoo.
You know, I discarded you far too quickly, Sam.
You're way more valuable than I thought you were.
Why would I knock myself out trying to sap your will?
I think Sam here will get you to see things my way.
Magnus, I swear to God...
What?
What are you gonna do? What is he gonna do?
Huh?
Unh!
Yeah, look, look, Sam, I'm not gonna kill you.
Of course not.
But I am gonna make you suffer unimaginably, all right?
Dean?
Dean.
Hey, it's over.
He's dead.
Drop the Blade, Dean.
Dean!
Drop the Blade.
Brilliant, I must say.
I'm speaking of myself, of course.
All you two managed to do was get trussed up.
Combine a little derring-do on my part,
a little dumb muscle from squirrel,
a little bleeding from moose...
Happy ending. Roll credits.
No, no!
Come on.
What the hell?
That's sulfur ... demons.
Abaddon's.
Well, she's just one jump behind us.
Guess she couldn't find Magnus' joint, either.
What about the trunk? Safe.
Warding kept them out.
Demon mitts all over my baby.
Oh, come on!
Oh, now they're keying cars?
What language is that?
It's Enochian.
The message isn't for you.
It's for me.
"Be afraid. Your Queen."
Abaddon's getting more brazen.
She thinks I'm losing my grip.
Dean.
Listen, you said Crowley was only useful
till we got the Blade.
We got the Blade.
You know, boys, I'm in debt to you.
You forced sobriety on me,
and now I can see the situation for what it is.
Dean, you are quite the killing machine.
And it occurs to me that Abaddon
is not the only name on your list.
My name must be up there, as well.
It's no good to you without me.
Yes, but as long as I have it, it's no good to you.
Now, this is the way it's going to go ...
I'll hang on to old donkey teeth here
until such time as you locate Abaddon.
Then you'll destroy her.
You're right, moose.
You can't trust me.
But, sadly, I can't trust you, either.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man