Tak prihadzujem sides
Ale tak aj to vyzerá na zaujímavú epku, žeby Deanov najväčší strach...
Ja osobne by som strašne chcela vidieť, epku, kde by ukázali Dean, ako žije bez Sama, že ako by sa správal, čo by robil a tak...
In the Sheriff’s Station during the day.
Sam and Dean wait on a couch in the station’s main room.
A deputy in his 20’s, kinda goofy and appearing harried mans his post at a desk, like a receptionist. He gives the boys a good natured grin.
The door behind the deputy’s desk flies open and Sheriff Ed Britton sticks his head out.
Ed: Hells Bells, Linus, where are my… Who are they?
Deputy: Federal Agents, I…
Ed: And you kept um waiting?
Deputy: You said not to disturb…
Ed: Come on back fellas.
Moments later Sam and Dean are about to enter the Sheriff’s office when Ed holds up a hand.
Ed: Shoes off.
Awkwardly, Sam and Dean stop, hop around as they remove their shoes. Finally, Ed ushers them to chairs in front of his desk, giving each of them an abrupt handshake.
Ed: Ed Britton, good to meet you.
Ed grabs a bottle of Purell on his desk and slathers it over his hands. Taking his time, giving the boys the once over.
They sit, scanning the décor: the office is lined with mounted deer heads and guns. Lots of guns.
Ed: So what can I do Uncle Sam?
Sam: We’re looking into the death of Frank O’Brien. Some of your men found his body.
Ed’s face falls into a somber look.
Ed: They did. Me and Frank… we were friends. Hell, we were gamecocks.
Dean snorts out a laugh and Ed glares at him.
Ed: It’s our softball team’s name. They’re majestic animals.
Dean nods an apology and Ed continues, getting emotional.
Ed: I knew Frank since high school. To be honest, I just this morning got up the strength to go see his body. Frank was… he was a really great guy.
Dean: Yeah, Big heart.
Sam leans forward, sympathetic. Ed composes himself.
Sam: Before he died, did you notice Frank acting strange? Maybe… scared of something?
Ed: Oh, hell yes. First he was just jumpy, you know, looking over his shoulder’n stuff. Then he got worse. Near the end, wouldn’t even leave his house.
Sam: You know what scared him?
Ed: No. I called him, but he stopped answering his phone. Finally, sent some of my boys over to check on him. They, you know, found him.
He coughes and reaches for the Purell applying another thick layer to his hands while shooting the boys a curious look.
Ed: Why the Feds give a rat’s ass? You don’t think there’s a case here?
Dean: Nah, it’s probably nothing, just a heart attack.
Break In Sides
The deputy’s intercom flares to life.
Ed: Who was that?!
He sounds more pissed off then usual. The deputy flinches.
Deputy: It… those FBI guys.
Ed: What did they want?!
Deputy: A file. Luther Garland’s.
A long silent beat
Deputy: Sheriff?
Moment’s later in the Sheriff’s office
Ed Britton stands over the room’s sink, scrubbing his hands with Ajax and Steel Wool… until they bleed.
Ed looks equal parts worn and panicked. Dark read abrasions now cover his arms, Ed’s in the throes of Ghost Sickness.
Ed moves to his desk, Which is covered with guns. He picks up a .44 and slides round after round into the cylinder…
A voice sounds… “They know”… it says.
Ed whips around, brining the gun to bear… on his own reflection. Twisted and distorted in a chrome desk lamp.
The reflection flashes an evil grin, Ed trembles barely holding it together.
Ed’s Reflection: They know what you did! They’re gonna make you pay!
Later that night in the hotel room.
Bam! Bam! Bam! Something pounds against the door!
Dean cowers back in his chair, raising his hands to shield himself as the door shakes as something rams into it almost knocking it off its hinges.
Dean stands watching, his face a mask of dread.
BOOM! The door splinters open to reveal The Sheriff!
Ed Britton, jittery, crazed and holding his .44 in his hand.
Dean: Sheriff?! What are you doing?
Ed: Why are you looking into Luther Garland’s death?
Dean backs into the wall, cornered. As Ed advances, Dean see’s the abrasions on the sheriff’s arms.
Dean: Look, you’re sick alright?
Dean holds up his arm, showing his scars.
Dean: Me too, no just relax and …
Ed pistol whips Dean, snapping his head to one side.
Ed: Frank O’Brien was my friend! What he did… so I helped him cover it up, so what?
Ed takes a shuddering breath and levels the .44 at Dean
Ed: And you’re gonna bust me over that? No, sir, you will not!
Driven by fear, Dean knocks the gun from Ed’s hands.
The sheriff stubles back, stunned. Dean freezes, startled by his own actions.
Ed, enraged, charges Dean, slamming him back against the wall. Dean recovers and gets a few shots in.
The two of them fight, a down and dirty brawl. No well timed combinations or fancy moves, just two men, cornered animals consumed by fright, fighting for their lives.
Finally, Dean throws Ed through the room’s coffee table. The sheriff lies on the ground, groaning. Spent.
Dean shakes his head, coming back to himself. He takes a step forward towards Ed, who huddles against the wall.
Ed: No! Stay away from me!
Terror is etched across hi face. Whatever Ed sees when he looks at Dean, it’s horrible.
Dean: Ed, you gotta calm down…
Ed: Get Back!
Ed lets out an agonized moan and clutches his chest in intense pain and then slumps over dead.
Break In Sides
In an assisted living center in the evening time.
The large space is nearly deserted, just one man sitting alone at a table near the window. This is John Garland. The boys make a b-line for him.
John’s only in his 60’s but he looks older, with wispy gray hair, sunken cheeks, and an oxygen tube threaded under his nose. Clearly he is very ill.
Sam: Mr. Garland? I’m Agent Tyler and this is Agent Perry, FBI. We’d like to ask a few questions about your brother, Luther.
The old man stares up at them, not quite buying it.
John: Lemme see some ID.
Dean reacts with an oh shit we’re busted look. Sam passes John his badge and Dean does the same… sweating… hands trembling.
Dean: That’s real. Obviously.
Sam clears his throat trying to get a message across to Dean… “Shut Up!”
Dean: I mean, who’d pretend to be an FBI agent, that’s just nutty.
Sam stomps on Dean’s foot and he quiets.
John studies the badges then hands them back.
John: What do you want to know?
Sam places the work ID and the “Garland, Luther” file on the table opening it.
Sam: According to this Luther died of “physical trauma,” I…
John lets out a barking, bitter laugh.
John: If that’s what you call it.
Sam: What would you call it?
John: Murder.
Sam and Dean exchange a pointed look.
Sam: Someone killed him. Why?
John: Don’t matter what I think.
Sam: Mr. Garland. We just wanna know the truth about your brother. Please.
John reaches out, tapping Luther’s work ID.
John: They said he was a monster.
FLASHBACK - Luther Garland shuffles down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, head down. Praying people just ignore him.
John in a Voice Over: He was too big, too mean looking. Too… different.
Back in the Assisted Living Center
John picks up the ID, eyes locked on Luther’s photo.
John: Didn’t matter that he was the kindest man I ever knew, didn’t matter that he’d never hurt no one.
He set the photo down, blinking back tears
John: I was a widower with three young’uns. I told myself there was nothin’ I could do. A lot of people failed Luther. I was one of em.
He wipes his eyes, as Sam and Dean absorb this.
John: Ol’ Ben Cassity took pity on Luther, gave him a job at the plant and a place to sleep. After that, he never left. No reason too.
Sam produces the charcoal drawing Dean took from the factory
Sam: Do you recognize this woman?
John: That’s Jessie O’Brien. Her man, Frank, he killed Luther.
There’s no anger or malice in his voice. It’s just a statement of fact.
Sam: How do you know that?
John: Everybody knows. They just don’t talk about it.
FLASHBACK - In the Limestone Plant Day or Night.
Jessie, at her desk. She drops a pencil. Suddenly, Luther is there, picking it up for her. A small kindness. She gives him a warm smile. Shy and sweet, he smiles back.
John in a Voice Over: Jessie was a receptionist at the plant. She was always nice to Luther, and he had a crush on her. Harmless, but Frank didn’t like it.
[i]Back in the Assisted Living Center
Dean steps forward, forgetting his fear… drawn in.
John: Jessie went missin’, Frank was eaten up with worry and fright. He thought Luther’d done somethin’ to her… monster steals the princess, you know…
FLASHBACK - In the Limestone Plant at night.
A pickup truck skids to a stop in front of the factory and Frank O’Brien climbs out, anger and fear in his eyes.
John in a Voice Over: One night Frank drove out to the factory and confronted Luther. Maybe he was drunk, probably he was sober.
Back in the Assisted Living Center
John flips the file closed and pushes it back towards Sam bowing his head. John can’t look at Luther anymore.
John: They found him with a chain wrapped around his neck. He’d been dragged up and down the gravel stretch outside the factory till he was past dead.
Dean: And O’Brien was never arrested?
John: I screamed to every cop in town. But… they didn’t wanna look into Frank. He was a pillar of the community. My brother was just the town freak. Nothin’ I could do but bury Luther in a plot out at Pinewood Gardens. Just me and Pastor. I had to pay double, short notice and all.
Sam flashes an empathetic look feeling for the guy.
Sam: You must have hated Frank.
John: I did for a long time. But… life’s too short for hate, son.
He looks up at Sam and Dean, sympathy in his voice.
John: Frank wasn’t thinkin’ straight, his wife vanished, he was terrified. Damn shame he had to put Luther through the same, but that’s fear. It spreads and spreads.
Domov 
Stránka 
Kripke, tys to rozjel 
- Já bych byla radši za ten původní
Steph Duvall
nebite ma... 
preto si nemyslim ze mu ublizi nejaky demon. ale mozno castiel..... 
