- Dean kicks it with Mildred one weekend, since Shady Pines* or whatever is only 15 minutes away. They go out, do some karaoke--turns out they're both horrible, because Mildred played in the band--she wasn't Patsy. So Dean teaches Mildred how to up her pool hustling game, they impulse-buy a guitar, and then Mildred teaches Dean a few tabs, just like that one girl that one time back at Sonny's. They watch the sun come up this time, to match their sunset.
* Did anyone else ever see that episode of Golden Girls? Yes?
- Sam and Alene and Jody hunt literally anything.
- The moment when it becomes clear to Claire that not only is her dad's body not her dad's anymore; it's not her fake dad's anymore, either.
- Rowena is familiar with fetches. You don't send your real body down to Hell if you've any intention of having it back, after all.
- With whom does the King of the Crossroads strike deals of his own? It's not a bad start to have a Reaper in your corner; and Billie's feeling frisky.
- Rowena: the first ghost born in Hell. ("Not without my handbag!"*)
* Has anyone else seen that Aardman short? Yes?
- Given the nuclear imagery surrounding smiting's aftermath ("smiting sickness," and S5's earlier framing of The Apocalypse as Mutually Assured Destruction--though on second thought, that might have been S6...), doesn't that mean Heaven just made The Darkness a hell of a lot more dangerous than she already was? The only thing more threatening than an arsenal of nuclear weapons, after all, is an unstable nuclear weapon...
* Bonus canon, Metatron also referred to Dean and the Mark (in 10x10? 10x11?) as Dean having "gone nuclear," which given the Mark's status as seal on Amara, and her and Dean's bond, makes for some interesting cross-season subtexts as well.
- How does time work across metaphysical boundaries? We know in deep Hell, it runs fast. At its more solid edges, seemingly less so. In the Veil time doesn't run so much as twist, we've heard. In the Heavens, of course, it replays. But at its furthest, furthest Heavenly reaches, time--God is immortal, untouched by time; omnipotent, unconstrained by working hours--all but ceases to exist.
After all, when you Create, you start with the Empty. And you paint. You paint and you paint and you paint until you find yourself trapped in a curious white corner. In this corner, Centuries pass in the blink of one experimental, immortal eye.
Millenniums pass, as His lips purse.
It is all so very slow, to exist outside of the everyman's time.
(Joshua has always understood--crip time. Metatron always improvised, a ghostwriter.)
I AM SORRY, God would like to say. I HAVE MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE. I AM SO SORRY. PLEASE HELP ME.
(God made mistakes. He made them by making them. He made them, He made them)
"I," says God, finally.
(He remembers inventing I. Inventing personhood and self-awareness and individuality. Like yesterday.)
"I?" Dean parrots, eyes narrowed. "A couple billion years and that's all you got?"
(in God's image in God's image we were all created in God's image)
"See," Dean says, "that's exactly the kind of conceited dickbag speech we all knew was coming."
He's quick. He teems with chaos and empty and infinite--infinity--infinitesimal exile. God recognizes.
AMARA--God thinks. AMARA.