The talk then turns to matters of forgiveness, naturally, given the fact that What Happened In Omaha Which Absolutely Nobody Cares About is near to the top of Bobby's mind. "He should have let it go," Dean opines. "You don't know what I did," Bobby reminds him. "Doesn't matter," Dean counters. "At the end of the day," he continues, pointedly looking at Sam, "you two are family." A hunter's life, he goes on to explain, is nasty, brutish, and short, and they can't be wringing their hands over slights, whether those slights are real or simply perceived. To that end, he offers them a "blanket apology" for anything he might have done to them in the past -- as well as for anything he might do to them in the future -- and suggests the other two do the same. Darling Sammy shrugs his remarkably broad shoulders around and whispers, "Okay."
Bobby, for his part, remains silent, but he does produce a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue from a brown paper bag. He uncaps the thing and pours one out for his homie, Rufus, and it's a damn good thing Raoul's still in his Coma Of Boredom, because he'd be shrieking bloody murder over this entirely unnecessary waste of a good shot of whiskey. "ZZZZZZZ -- hateful! -- ZZZZZZ!" The boys discreetly step away from the grave to give Bobby some privacy, and Bobby toasts Poor Dead Rufus one more time before we finally, and at very long last, fade to black.
I'd rouse Raoul so he could tell you about next week's new episode, but this show isn't airing new episodes again until April 15th, so to hell with it. Be sure to go out and have some fun during the spring hiatus, and we'll see you back here next month.
Demian can't wait for this season to be over with already. Raoul is still sleeping. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" You may reach the former at firstname.lastname@example.org. The latter is an imaginary gay dragon on the Internet.