Sam: People who do what we do, you know there are gonna be deaths, but… This…
Dean: Good. Hold on to that, ’cause it look like we got a hellhound to deal with. Which means…
Mary: How do you-
Lady Bevell: I have sources, Mary. Everywhere. After you died, your beloved John was a man slowly going mad, searching for revenge. What? Your boys didn’t tell you? The drunken rages? The weeks of abandonment? Child abuse, really. It’s no wonder they’re… damaged. So… enough with the fairy tale. We are returning you to a more pure version of yourself – Mary Campbell, natural born killer.
Lucifer: Mm. As opposed to the fun-packed death you have planned.
Mr. Ketch: I’m not sure what you’re expecting. That I’ll intervene? We made it clear to each other, we don’t have a relationship.
Mary: Then you do it! Kill me. All my life all I ever had, other than my family, was my will. And it’s going away. I’m… I’m putting people in danger. I’m putting my sons in danger. You… have to… please. For God’s sake, kill me.
Lady Bevell: Probably. Rule of thumb – if you think we killed someone, then we probably did. Speaking of, you do realize that by attacking me, you invite the retribution of the entire British Men of Letters? No investigation, no trial. Just punishment and ruin. Possibly at the hands of Mary Winchester.
Dean: Mom? Look at me. It’s us. Please. What’s wrong with you? Mom!
Mary: Easier… to hurt people I love?
Mr. Ketch: Easier to hurt people you don’t remember loving.