Sam loads an automatic out at Metallicar's bottomless trunk. The heavily dramatic underscoring is telling me this moment is Very Important Indeed, but between you and me, I'm pretty sure The Heavily Dramatic Underscoring is full of shit.
The Hovel That's Masquerading As This Week's Motel Room. "I'm ambivalent about what we're attempting," Castiel announces. Dean of course misinterprets My Sweet Baboo's intention and mutters something about "breaking into Monster Gitmo," so Castiel's forced to clarify his statement like so: "I'm not sure retrieving Sam's soul is wise." Neither am I, frankly, which is yet another reason why I love My Sweet Baboo, though he and I do differ as far as our reasoning goes. I don't want them to retrieve Sam's soul because Soulless Sammy is freaking awesome. Castiel doesn't want them to retrieve Sam's soul because Sam's soul has been sitting in The Cage with Lucifer, Michael, and their hapless bastard of a half-brother for the last year and a half, and has likely been used as a punching bag by all three of The Cage's other occupants over and over again during that time. "If we try to force that mutilated thing down Sam's gullet," Castiel warns, "we have no idea what will happen -- it could be catastrophic." "You mean, he dies?" Dean guesses. "I mean," Castiel corrects, "he lives -- paralysis, insanity, psychic pain so profound that he's locked inside himself for the rest of his life." "But he could be fine," Dean attempts to bright-side. "He could be," Castiel concedes, "but I sincerely doubt it." Well, I'm sold. Fuck Darling Sammy's soul. Who the hell needs it, anyway?
Dean, apparently, for he proceeds to argue with My Sweet Baboo for what seems like several hundred years until Castiel -- by now most thoroughly browbeaten -- agrees that should any complications arise from the act of reuniting Sam's soul with his body, Castiel will do whatever is in his power to fix them. But what's this? Darling Sammy's been eavesdropping on their conversation this entire time? DUN!
Crowley's Home For Wayward Monsters. Our Intrepid Heroes, My Sweet Baboo, and Meg And The Remaining Minions have all arrived -- by car, for Christ's sweet sake -- and now stand outside the gates, examining the property. "Seems pretty quiet," Dean observes. "It's not," Castiel insists. "I can feel it." The angel instructs the others to meet him at the side door, which he easily opens for them after teleporting himself into the prison's interior. "This all seem a little too easy to you?" Dean asks. "Way too easy," Sam agrees, but because they are all idiots, they step inside anyway.