My Sweet Baboo goes on to note that they also ripped up "the rules" and Capital-D Destiny, "leaving nothing but freedom and choice," which is all well and good as far as Castiel's concerned, except for one little thing: "What if I've made the wrong choice?" We're back in that snow-covered park now, and Castiel sets to babbling before he realizes, "I'm getting ahead of myself." "Let me tell you my story," he suggests, staring directly into the camera. "Let me tell you everything." Oh, Jesus. They're gonna talk us to death tonight, aren't they? Man, I hate the chatty episodes. "ZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!" Shut up, Raoul. Also:
Tinkle, Tinkle RAAAWWWR! And when the Tinkle-ing and the RAAAWWWR!-ing are done, the camera fades up on Dashing El Deano, who's tooling through the night all by his lonesome in the Impala. Presently, My Sweet Baboo flutters in to say hello, and the two get to chatting about recent events. "Any word on Satan Junior?" Dean asks, referring of course to Crowley. "I'm looking," Castiel LIES before murmuring, "I just don't understand how Crowley could have tricked me." Dean claims that doesn't matter so much anymore, because what does matter now is finding and killing Crowley for good. Passing mention is made of a frigging genie that Sam's currently tracking in Omaha, and Castiel apologizes for not being able to help them at the moment, but Dean assures him they've got it all under control. Dean then allows a flicker of the doubt he's been feeling since last week over his angelic boyfriend's fidelity to flash across his face, and some of that doubt goes on to color his tone of voice as he asks, "You'll call, right? If you get into real trouble?" They stare at each other in silence for a very long couple of seconds before Castiel flutters away. Dean sighs and sniffles and blinks and keeps on driving into the night.
Castiel flutters back in somewhere else, and he emerges from a darkened hallway into the makeshift operating theater Crowley's set up in what appears to be yet another abandoned asylum. Mother Of All's autopsied corpse lies splayed open on a table, and nearby, Crowley's Lectered up a shirtless and very much alive vampire for what I'm assuming are nefarious purposes. "What have you found?" Castiel asks, referring of course to Mother's disemboweled carcass. "A lot of things," Crowley breezily allows. "For example," he notes, "Eve's brain? Dead as a tin kipper, and yet for some reason, she keeps laying eggs." At this, Crowley rummages around inside the corpse's torso for a moment before yanking out a steaming, slippery handful of what appears to be especially unappetizing caviar.