And through the fire stood before me a pale horse,
And he that sat atop him carried a scythe.
And I saw since he had risen,
They, too, shall rise,
And from him, and through him. >
Our Intrepid Geniuses eventually realize that Bobby's talking about Capital-D Death, whom Lucifer summoned, as you'll recall, shortly before Thanksgiving, and they bury their pretty, pretty faces in their hands for a moment before snapping out of their temporary funk to strategize. "If Death is behind this," Dean cautions Bobby, "then whatever these things are, it's not good. You know what we have to do, here." "She doesn't remember anything," Bobby bleats, not willing to go there just yet. "Being possessed," he elaborates, "me killing her, her coming back..." He trails off helplessly at this point, allowing us all to listen as The Undead Mrs. Bobby putters happily about in the kitchen. "She hums when she cooks," Bobby smiles wistfully. "She always used to hum when she cooked," he continues. "Tone-deaf as all hell, and I never thought I would hear it again." Aw. Poor Bobby. Not like I ever gave a shit about his personal life, but I must admit that Jim Beaver is selling the hell out of the material they've given him this evening, so that's a plus, I suppose. "I WAS TOLD THERE WOULD BE ZOMBIES!" God! I'm getting to them! Jeez!
ANY-way, Bobby tries to argue that the dead are supposed to rise from their graves during The Apocalypse and that it's not necessarily a bad thing and wah, but Dean sidesteps that line of reasoning to level with him. "What would you do if you were us?" he asks. After a moment, Bobby sighs, "I know what I'd do, and I know what you think you gotta do, but I'm begging you: Please, please leave her be."