A lengthy period of time later, Sam -- unbound, mind you -- is perched on a table in the examination room while Doctor Lee busies herself once more with her German microscope. "Well," she offers him, turning away from her studies, "it's been five hours, and your blood's still clean." "I don't understand it," she admits with a heartening smile, "but I think you dodged a bullet." Sam's astonished. Doctor Lee's all, "Um, duh, Stoopy The Wonder Psychic. I just admitted as much myself. Did you lose 50 IQ points over the course of this episode, or was that just the audience?" Or maybe she just agrees with that emotion while spinning around on her stool to reconfirm the differences between Sam's blood samples and the ones drawn earlier from the deceased Tanners. "What the hell?" she gapes, huddled over the Tanner samples' microscope. She spins back around to face Sam, agog. "Their blood!" she breathes. "There's no trace of the virus! No sulphur...nothing." Sam's eyebrows remain motionless once more, but this time around, his Adam's apple assumes responsibility for The Devilish Dance Of The Demonic DUN! as it bobs up and down on his throat in an impressive gulp of dismay.
Shortly thereafter, the five survivors gather on the sidewalk to bid farewell to two of their number. Duane notes he and Mark are "heading south" to get away from this godforsaken burg, and he invites Doctor Lee to join them. She smiles and affably declines the offer, insisting she'll be headed over to Sidewinder to enlist, at long last, the aid of the proper authorities. "If they'll believe me," she adds, shaking her head a bit at the prospect. As Duane and Mark climb into the latter's truck, Dean seeks assurance from the doctor that Sam is, indeed, okay. She gives him the assurance he craves and, looking strangely none the worse for the wear after her recent ordeal, rather brightly turns to reenter her corpse-littered clinic. Hmmmmm. "Oh, absolutely," Raoul nods. "She's in on it, too." Raoul, shut up! We haven't hit The Twist yet! "Ooops! Okay, I promise to keep my maw shut. Well, until the very end, of course, when I'll be joining everyone else with the screaming and flailing and rending of clothing and whatnot." Raoul, you have no clothing to...you know what? Forget about it. Let's just get through the remaining five minutes with our tattered sanity intact, shall we?
Dean glares at Sam. "Don't look at me!" Sammy protests. "I got no clue." "I swear I'm gonna lose sleep over this one," Dean admits after a beat. "I mean, why here? Why now? Where the hell did everybody go? It's not just like they friggin' melted!" Sam processes that for a moment before adding in a soft, self-critical, and vaguely despairing voice, "And why was I immune?" "That's a good question!" Dean asserts, getting all aggressive with his index finger and the vehement pointing and such. "I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away," he growls, finally crossing behind Sam to slam his way into the Impala. Sam looks conflicted for a moment before joining his brother, and Metallicar grumbles away.