In any event, the montage ends by focusing on Dashing El Deano, post-kill, as he steers the Impala down yet another back-country road, and as the Skynyrd nears its depressing-in-context close, Dean tosses a wistful glance at Metallicar's empty passenger seat before peeling off towards his version of this week's motel room.
Once there, he diligently scrubs bloodstains off his jacket in the bathroom sink until... Castiel silently pops up behind him! "God!" Dean freaks, jumping around in surprise. "Don't do that!" "Hello, Dean," My Sweet Baboo replies in that unnervingly calm way of his while standing approximately three inches away from Our Intrepid Hero's nose. After a supremely uncomfortable pause, Dean clenches, "Cas, we've talked about this -- personal space?" "My apologies," Castiel immediately replies, right before retreating all of two baby steps. Hee. Dean, visibly clinging to whatever tattered shreds of patience he has left, carefully steps around his angelic protector to cross to his duffel on the bed, wondering how Castiel managed to find him, what with that fancy Enochian sigil Dean's got etched into his ribcage. Turns out Castiel called Bobby to ask for Dean's current whereabouts, which is funny, because last week it was Sam who had to provide Dean's coordinates, and what, is Castiel suddenly too shy to call his boyfriend directly? Aw! Anyway, after a brief back-and-forth in which Dean LIES about the reason for Sam's absence, the two finally get to the point of Castiel's visit: While My Sweet Baboo has yet to find God, he has become aware of the presence on Earth of the archangel who smote the crap out of him. "His name is Raphael," Castiel reveals. "You were wasted by a Teenage Mutant Ninja Angel?" Dean squints. Of course, the reference zips right over Castiel's head, and with no change whatsoever to his intense expression, he merely replies, "This is a rare opportunity." "For what?" Dean snorts, breaking eye contact with his immortal beloved to cross back over to the sink. "Revenge?" "Information," Castiel corrects, remaining frozen in place while Dean's tones of derision wash over him. "We are going to trap him and interrogate him," Castiel continues, the growly determination in his voice doing wonders for my mood. "You're serious about this?" Dean eyebrows. By way of response, Castiel finally turns around and stares Dean down. "So, what?" Dean jokes, refusing to acknowledge Castiel's deadly determination. "You're Thelma and I'm Louise, and we're just gonna hold hands to sail off this cliff together?" Castiel's unnervingly calm demeanor crumples into a frown. Heh. Dean, embarrassed, knocks it off with the ill-advised attempts at levity and demands, "Give me one good reason why I should do this." "You're Michael's Vessel," Castiel duhs, "and no angel will dare harm you." Dean, of course, takes loud offense at being forced to perform as Castiel's human shield, but My Sweet Baboo lays it on thick with the guilt tripping and the big, beautiful, pleading baby blues, and so Our Intrepid Hero has little choice but to agree with the plan. "Where is he?" Dean asks. "Maine," Castiel replies. And with that, Castiel moves to touch his fingers against Dean's forehead, but Decidedly Disinclined El Deano's all, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Last time you zapped me someplace, I didn't poop for a week!" So that's what was up Dean's ass these last two episodes. "We're driving!" Dean fussily insists, his panties obviously twisted into a tremendous wad while My Sweet Baboo has the good grace to look abashed. Or sickened and repulsed by this episode's sudden drop into doody humor. Your choice.