SEXY LADY COME TO MY BOSOM.
Context is is irrelevant (in Hell).
She comes for him hands first. The pad of her thumb is smooth, like she's been burned (or has burned). Day by day, it's the only thing about her he really remembers.
"How are we feeling today, Clarence?"
He fixates on her cuticles. Is that blood? (Is it? It should be. If the world were right, it would be. But the world's not, and "should" is not "yes", and that's where the indecision starts.)
"That's not my name," he says.
And she says, You and me? We can have any name we want, Emmanuel. Any face, any body, any family. "What does it even really change?"
Her hands on his face. Smooth.
And Castiel says, "Everything."
Also, next episode? YES, I THINK SO. Why is Supernatural fulfilling all my strangest desires in close succession. Why is Sera not in my bed? The latter is more pressing a question than the former--I ain't gonna knock it.
AND DID I MENTION THE SEXY LADY.