Dean goes Back to the Future, and his life continues to suck. Bobby’s dead, the world is overrun by zombies, his brother is being worn by Lucifer to the prom, Castiel’s become a sex cult leader, and future Dean is a jerk. On the upside, though, he gets investment advice from the Prophet Chuck.

Dean’s apparently had an exhausting day, and all he’d like is some sleep. But the universe is conspiring against him. I’ve had days like that. First, Castiel is calling him, all set to meet up with Dean and go chasing after the Colt, which he’s heard is still around. Then, just as Dean is dropping off, Sam calls for a little heart-to-heart talk. Siblings who call you at 4 am should be summarily shot. Just sayin’.

Sam wants to join back up with Dean, but Dean tells him it’s a bad idea and probably always will be, so that’s the end of that. And really, what did he expect, calling at 4 am? Dean finally gets back to bed…and promptly gets zapped to the future. Zachariah and the Bad Angels (sorry, it’s in my brain like a rock band, and there it will stay) find Dean via their newly tapped spy network of street evangelists, and send him on a little trip back to the future, and it’s even more depressing than his visit to the past last season.

It’s 2014, Sarah Palin is president, the South has risen again, the Croatoan virus (last seen in season 2) has swept the world, turning lots of people into 28-Days-Later type zombies. The military likes to massacre zombies to the sounds of Motown, and everything is grim and gray and covered with remarkably topical graffiti (also a sign of the apocalypse). There are also lots and lots of wrecked and overturned cars, as per requirement for every post-apocalyptic urban wasteland ever shown on television. Dean goes looking for Bobby, whose house notably does not look all that different from the last time we saw it, despite being the post-apocalyptic version. When you can’t hardly tell the difference between that before and after, it’s a sign. That man needs a house cleaner.

Dean gingerly pokes around, calling out for Bobby. In deference to Bobby’s status as a badass old dude, it’s more along the lines of “Please don’t shoot me,” than “Where are you?”  Unfortunately, all Dean finds of Bobby is his wheelchair, which is covered in bullet holes and blood stains.  Killing Bobby is the single most depressing thing the show hasn’t actually already done, so more than anything else, here’s proof positive that the future sucks. Dean goes poking around some more, finally coming across a photo of Bobby posing with Castiel and some other guys militia-style. They’re helpfully posed right next to a sign for some (summer?) camp, so Dean moseys on down that way. He scopes out the place, which definitely has a ‘survivalist/militia’ theme going. He finally sees something so horrible that he practically yelps in dismay; the poor dismembered ruins of his much-beloved car.

While he’s crooning to it in distress and undoubtedly wondering where in the hell he’s going to get the parts to fix it this time, a figure sneaks up on him and punches his lights out. It’s Future Dean, who is wearing Jason Bourne’s frowny-stony face from the sequels. When our Dean wakes up again, he’s been chained to a pipe inside one of the cabins. Future Dean watches him while messing around with a big damn gun, further emphasizing his role as a post-apocalyptic badass. BDGs, of course, being standard issue for every post-apocalyptic badass. Our Dean manages to prove to future Dean that he is who he says he is fairly quickly by relating an anecdote about pink satin panties. Future Dean believes him, and they both kind of smirk at each other over the anecdote. But Future Dean quickly reverts to hardass mode and stomps off, leaving our Dean chained to the pipe and telling him not to go wandering off. Of course, he really should have known better, because that’s of course the very first thing our Dean does after prying a nail out of the floor and making his escape.

He immediately finds himself in the usual situation that always goes along with cases of mistaken identity: he’s confronted by an angry girlfriend. But this scene also contains one Carver Edlund, also known as the Prophet Chuck, who makes me willing to forgive the cliche. Especially when Dean uses him as a human shield. He pesters Dean a bit about logistics of running the camp. Dean beats a hasty retreat and goes in search of Castiel. He’s in for a surprise: Castiel has been spending the apocalypse as a stoned sex cult leader/guru with an adoring harem. Castiel immediately catches on to the fact that Dean’s been temporally displaced. Or maybe he’s just really, really, really stoned. Could be both. Dean asks him to send him back to 2009, but Cas just kind of laughs in a kind of creepy way and tells him he can’t.

In comparison to that development, Dean’s growing disgust for his future-self hardly comes as a shock.  Future Dean’s an end-justifies-the-means guy, and utterly ruthless about it. He’s been using his mad torturin’ skillz to get intel, much to our Dean’s horror.  Even stony-faced hardass future Dean hates what he’s  become, though he hides it pretty well, until he gets a heart to heart talk with his past self.  It turns out that the mission future Dean was out on was to a) find the Colt (that can kill anything, at least in theory) and b) get some intel on where Lucifer was. Handily, both seemed to be nearby.

So off they all go to kill Lucifer, Future Dean telling Dean he wants him to come along so he can see something: apparently Sam isn’t dead, as he earlier implied. Instead, Lucifer has been “wearing him to the prom.” Bummer. Dean rides along with Castiel, who tells him he lost his mojo when all the other angels bailed (to…where? No really. I want to know. Mars?) Future Castiel’s a real drag, despite all his wild hippy hedonism. Or maybe because of it.  Finally, they arrive at Lucifer’s newest hangout, a mental institution. Future Dean arranges for everyone else (save our Dean) to go in one way, while he and…himself go around the back. Our Dean is horrified to realize that future Dean intends to send that group – including Castiel- to their deaths as cannon fodder. He vows to stop him, so future Dean punches him out again. There’s a stop-hitting-yourself joke in there somewhere.

Anyway, when our Dean comes to, it’s too late to save anybody. He sneaks around back just in time to see Lucifer (as Sam) kill his future self. It’s just hard to get emotional about these things when you’ve got time displaced doubles running around, though. Or maybe Futurama jaded me to the concept. Anyway, Lucifer then spends some time yammering on (“poor me! I’ve got daddy issues too! I’m Mr. Sensitive!”), and Dean tells him to STFU (finally) and vows to kill him. Lucifer goes to wander off, and Dean demands that he Lucifer just kill him now. I’m not sure why. Dean’s done this a few times, but I’m not sure what he hopes to accomplish. Obviously dying would be counter-productive. Maybe he hopes one day the bad guys will say, “Okay,” and then trip on a rake and break their necks. I really don’t know.

Despite the fact the scene takes place in a garden, Lucifer fails to accidentally kill himself in a rake accident. Instead he decides to drop a few anvils about fate and destiny and time travel paradoxes, and points out that Dean’s not going to do anything big to change the future: He’s not going to agree to become a vessel, and he won’t kill Sam, so neenerneenerneener.

Lucifer vanishes, and Zachariah pops up to zap Dean back to 2009. He tries his best to pressure Dean into agreeing, but after a tense and emotional moment, Dean tells him to shove it. Zachariah doesn’t take kindly to this, and blusters and threatens a bit…but he’s talking to empty air. This does not make him happy. I think he’s going to give his vessel a heart attack.

Luckily, thanks to their earlier chat, Castiel was there to swoop in and save the day by poofing Dean away.  “We had an appointment” says the angel, who has never been more awwww-worthy. Really. It’s so cute I’m kind of ashamed of liking it.

Dean then does the one thing neither Zachariah nor Lucifer mentioned nor seemed to consider: He calls his brother, and that have a practically teary reunion on some random dirt road by the side of a bridge. It was all very heartwarming.

But there are still a few random thoughts and lingering questions (and do shout out if you know the answers):
1) Seriously, what was up with the soldiers blasting “Do You Love Me?”  while massacring zombies? Do the zombies just really hate that song or what?
2) Is there a giant warehouse of wrecked prop-cars that all the studios have on the off chance they need to show an post-apocalyptic urban wasteland, or do they just raid salvage yards?
3) What is  the proper pronoun to use when you encounter a time-displaced version of yourself?