Dean walks down the wet streets of Rock Ridge, loosening his tie and collar. He hears a light tapping sound behind him, and it scares the wits out of him. From behind him, there's a growl. It's Benjette, from the cold open. Hi puppy! Okay, so they've been in town 43 hours. How fast can you run to Vegas, Dean?
Later, Dean's all sweaty and mussed up, when Sam enters their hotel room. "I looked everywhere for you, Dean. How the Hell did you get here?" Dean says, "Ran," and I don't like to nag (that's a lie) but since his heart is a few hours from giving out, I'm thinking a nice rest might be in order. Dean wants to know what they do know, because he's got less then four hours left on the clock. I hope he has another clock. "I'm gonna die, Sammy." Sam says, "Yeah, you are," and lets out a sigh. "You're going back." Dean says, "Back?" Sam says he's going back downstairs -- to Hell. "It's about damn time, too. The truth is, you've been a real pain in my ass." His eyes turn YELLOW! The picture blurs, so the lobotomized among us will realize this is a hallucination. Dean goes to grab Sammy YED, but he mojos him across the room and pins him to the wall. Despite all his fear, all his anxiety, Dean's still the big brother. "You get out of my brother you evil son of a bitch." Sammy YED laughs and laughs. "No one's possessing me, Dean. This is what I'm going to become. This is what I want to become." Sam approaches Dean and his eyes again turn YELLOW! He grabs him around the throat and starts to throttle him with one ginormatronic hand. The hallucination fades. Regular Sam is yelling, "Hey, hey, hey, hey Dean. Hey Dean." His hand is over Dean's heart -- not around his neck. Dean nods at him and tries to catch his breath. Sam pats him on the chest and walks away. No hug? This would be exactly the time for some touchy feely self-help yoga crap, bitch.