Dean: Dude, what is going on with you?
Sam: What are you talking about?
Dean: All day. You give me a-a beer for breakfast. You – you gave me Agent Page, which you always like to be. You – you didn’t whine about me blaring my music the whole way here. And when we stopped for lunch, you ordered my chili fries.
Sam: You love chili fries.
Dean: Everybody loves chili fries. That’s not the point. Now you wanna go hang out at a strip club? You hate strip clubs.
Sam: No I don’t.
Dean: Dude the last lap dance you had – was – was at Christmas. It was a gift paid for by me. You spent the entire song trying to convince the girl that she should go to nursing school. So what is it? Is it my birthday? Did – did I win a bet that I don’t know about? What?
Sam: No, nothing. Nothing. I – I mean, I’m just trying to be nice.
Sam: Because… You know why.
Dean: I’m fine.
Sam: No, you’re not, Dean. You said you don’t believe in anything and – and that’s… that’s not true. That’s not you. You – you – you do believe in things. You believe in people. That’s who you are. That’s what you do. I know you’re in a dark place, and I-I just want to help.
Dean: Okay. Look, I-I’ve been down this road before and I fought my way back. I will fight my way back again.
Dean: Same way I always do – bullets, bacon, and booze. A lotta booze.
Dean: Well, I thought Death knew everything.
Billie: Then you can imagine how this one little blind spot is really bothering me.
Dean: What’s in it for me?
Billie: What do you want?
Dean: Free the ghosts.
Billie: Excuse me?
Dean: Free the ghosts at the Meadow’s house. Let them move on, I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know.
Billie: It’s done.
Dean: How do I know I can trust you?
Billie: You don’t. But then again, I’m not the one breaking cosmic bargains left and right, now, am I?
Dean: Yeah, it’s not like you to hold a grudge.
Billie: Don’t I? So… spill.
Dean: Lucifer’s son. Jack. When he was born, it created a little rip.
Billie: “A little rip”?
Billie: Into another world? And you went there?
Dean: Mm. Yeah, I’ll just say it’s, uh, it’s not Candy Land.
Billie: I’ll bet.
Dean: Why do you care?
Billie: Because I do. Because…this whole multi-versal quantum constructs we live in, it’s like a house of cards. And the last thing I need is some big, dumb Winchester knocking it all down.
Dean: Hmm. That does sound like us.
Billie: You’ve changed. When you bargained with me just now, you could’ve asked to go back, to live.
Dean: Well, I figured with you in charge, there’s no getting back for me.
Billie: That doesn’t sound like the Dean Winchester I know and love. The man who has been dead so many times but it never seems to stick. Maybe you’re not that guy anymore, they guy who saves the world, the guy who always thinks he’ll win no matter what. You have changed. And you tell people it’s not a big deal. You tell people you’ll work through it but you know you won’t, you can’t and that scares the hell out of you. Or… am I wrong?
Dean: What do you want me to say? Doesn’t matter. I don’t matter.
Billie: Don’t you?
Dean: I couldn’t save Mom. I couldn’t save Cas. I can’t even save a scared little kid. Sam keeps trying to fix it, but I just keep dragging him down. So I’m not going to beg. Okay, if it’s my time, it’s my time.
Billie: You really believe that. You wanna die. Dean…every notebook on this particular shelf tells a version of how you die. You specifically, heart attack, burned by a red-haired witch, stabbed by a ghoul in a graveyard, and on and on. But which one’s right? That depends on you, on the choices you make.
Dean: Well, I guess I made my choice.
Billie: But…unfortunately none of these books say you die today.
Dean: Come again?
Billie: Since I got this…new job, I stand witness to a much larger picture. Do you know what I see? You. And your brother. You’re important.
Billie: You have work to do. That’s all you need to know. And trust me, having my eyes opened to the necessity of any humans, especially Winchesters, is not a thrill. So…you wanna die, but I say…keep living.
Dean: How’d it go?
Sam: About how’d you figure. Hey, what happened back there? I mean, the shot didn’t work and all of a sudden, you’re back.
Dean: I don’t know. I guess it took a minute for the drug to kick in. I guess I got lucky.
Sam: Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Hold – Dean. Hold on a second. What about the ghosts? ‘Cause I checked the EMF. They’re all gone. Was that lucky too?
Dean: We can talk about it later.
Sam: We won’t talk about it later. You know that.
Dean: I saw Death. The death.
Sam: He’s dead.
Dean: No, she’s not. It’s Billie. I guess she got a new gig. She’s the one that took care of the ghosts.
Sam: W-why would she help us?
Dean: She wanted intel. She said that we’re important, that we have work to do.
Sam: What the hell’s that mean?
Dean: I have no friggin’ clue.
Sam: You okay?
Dean: No. Sam, I’m not okay. I’m pretty far from okay. You know, my whole life, I always believed that what we do was important. No matter what the cost, no matter who we lost, whether it was Dad or – or Bobby or –. And I would take the hit. But I kept on fighting because I believed that we were making the world a better place. And now Mom and Cas… And I – I don’t know. I don’t know.
Sam: So now you don’t believe anymore.
Dean: I just need a win. I just need a damn win.