- Crowley: Your brother, bless his soul, is summoning me as I speak. Make a deal, bring you back. It's exactly about what I was talking about, isn't it? It's all become so... expected. You have to believe me. When I suggested you can take on the mark of Cain, I didn't know this was going to happen. Not really. I mean, I might not have told you the entire truth. But I never lied. I never lied, Dean. That's important. It's fundamental. But... there is one story about Cain that I might have... forgotten to tell you. Apparently, he, too, was willing to accept death, rather than becoming the killer the mark wanted him to be. So he took his own with the blade. He died. Except, as rumor has it, the mark never quite let go. You can understand why I never spoke of this. Why set hearts aflutter of mere speculation? It wasn't until you summoned me... no, it wasn't truly until you left that cheeseburger uneaten... that I began to let myself believe. Maybe miracles do come true. Listen to me, Dean Winchester. What you're feeling right now - it's not death. It's life - a new kind of life. Open your eyes, Dean. See what I see. Feel what I feel. And let's go take a howl at that moon.
- [Dean's eyelids open revealing demonic eyes]
- Crowley: I kicked human blood, you know.
- Dean Winchester: Oh, so you're a full-metal douche again? Well, that's fantastic. Would you like a stuffed bear?
- Crowley: Just trying to make conversation.
- Dean Winchester: How's Hell, Crowley?
- Crowley: Hell's fine. Hell's like a Swiss watch. Don't worry about Hell. Hell's complicated.
- Dean Winchester: "Game of Thrones" is complicated. The shower sex - that's complicated. Hell ain't complicated. Your problem ain't Hell. It's you.
- Crowley: Fair enough. What's your problem, then?
- Dean Winchester: My problem is Metatron.
- Dean Winchester: [Dying] What happened with you being okay with this?
- Sam Winchester: I lied.
- Dean Winchester: Ain't that a bitch.
- Dean Winchester: You can save the humble-pie Jesus routine for somebody who gives a damn.
- Metatron: The problem with you, Dean, is the cynicism. Always with the cynicism. But most people - even the real belly crawlers living in filth... or Brentwood... they don't want to be cynical. They just want something to believe in.
- Dean Winchester: And that'd be you.
- Metatron: Why not me?
- Dean Winchester: You've been working those people outside, for what, a day? They've already spilled blood in your name. You were nothing but Bernie Madoff with wings.
- Metatron: So I'm a fake. Do you have any idea how much pan-cake makeup and soft lighting it took to get God to work a rope-line? He hated it. And, you know, humans sense that. So they prayed harder and longer and fought more wars in His name. And for what? So they could die of malaria? Leukemia? And all the while, blaming themselves! "Oh, if only I had been more prayerful. God would have loved me. God would have saved me." You know what? God didn't even know their name! But I do. Because I've walked among them. And I can save them.
- Dean Winchester: Sure, you can. So long as your mug is in every Bible and "What Would Metatron Do?" is on every bumper.
- Metatron: What, are you blaming me for giving them for what they want, giving them a brand they can believe in?
- Dean Winchester: I'm blaming you for Kevin! I'm blaming you for taking Cass' grace. Hell, I'm blaming you for the Cubs not a winning a World Series in the last 100 freaking years. Whatever it is... I'm blaming you.
- Metatron: The First Blade. Nasty piece of work, isn't she? Okay, let's say you win, Dean, and I die. What's the world left with then, hmm? A herd of panty-wasted angels and you? Half out of your mind with lord knows what pumping through those veins?
- Dean Winchester: Yeah, you said, the only thing you said that went into my ear was that you die.
- Metatron: Ohh. Fine. We'll fight. I don't know what you expect is gonna come of all this. Unless... that's why you're stalling. Because you know nothing's gonna come of this unless your pal's succeed upstairs. Well, here's a news flash - Humpty and Dumpty are starring in their very own version of "Locked Up Abroad: Heaven" right now.
- [Dean takes a swing of the blade, Metratron stops him in mid-swing, Dean then punches him]
- Metatron: Wow, that big blade and that... douchey tribal tat sure gave you some super juice. Whoo! Okay.
- Dean Winchester: [after being beaten and stabbed by Metatron, Dean is being carried out of the building by Sam] Sam, hold up. Hold Up.
- [Sam stops and lets Dean sit down]
- Dean Winchester: I gotta say somethin'.
- Sam Winchester: What?
- Dean Winchester: [Smiling, looking into his brother's eyes] I'm proud of us.
- [Dean slumps into Sam's arms]
- Metatron: You know, while you could never pull it together, Castiel, why you're sitting here while your grace slowly burning away and your reputation long extinguished? No curiosity. You didn't read enough. You never learned how to tell a good story.
- Castiel: But you did.
- [Reveals the whole conversation was being broadcast to all the angels]
- Sam Winchester: An hour ago, we were ready to throw Dean into a padded cell. And now you say he's our best chance?
- Castiel: Hear him out, Sam.
- Sam Winchester: Oh right, excuse me. Sorry, guys. Sorry I'm a little less than eager to hear that our best chance is, is arming the warhead and hoping it hits the mark! This is not a bomb we're talking about. This is my *brother*!
- Metatron: Well played, Castiel. Obviously, you and Gadreel managed to turn a few dead-enders against me.
- Castiel: Gadreel is dead.
- Metatron: Ah. So Gadreel bites the dust. And the angel tablet - arguably the most powerful instrument in the history of the universe - is in pieces, and for what again? Oh, that's right - to save Dean Winchester. That was your goal, right? I mean, you draped yourself in the flag of heaven, but ultimately, it was about saving one human, right? Well, guess what. He's dead, too. And you're sitting in my chair.
- Castiel: You will never get away with this.
- Metatron: Get away with what? You told a silly story to a group of less-than-believers. I'll clean up your mess in an hour.
- Castiel: You give our brothers and sisters far too little credit. They will soon learn that you have been playing them.
- Metatron: And then? They will do nothing because they are frightened little sheep following my crook wherever it leads. And where I'm taking them, back to our rightful place atop this mountain of human shame and excrement - when that happens, trust me, they're not gonna care how they get there.
- Crowley: So this is what you and Moose do, eh? Crisscross the country searching for evil, order your nitrates, partake of the local attraction?
- Dean Winchester: Yup.
- Crowley: And you never get tired of the rat race? Never get the urge to just bugger off and howl at the moon? Never ask yourself, is this it? Is this all there is?
- Dean Winchester: How's Hell, Crowley?
- Crowley: Hell's fine! Hell's like a Swiss watch. Don't worry about Hell. Hell's complicated.
- Dean Winchester: Game of Thrones is complicated. Shower sex, that's complicated. Hell ain't complicated. You're problem ain't Hell. It's *you*.
- Homeless Woman: [to Homeless Angel, referring to Metatron] Shut your mouth! Angels? Scribe of God? Please.
- Homeless Angel: It's true.
- Homeless Woman: What's true is what I can see with my own two eyes. You wanna call him pathetic, common? Be my guest; who here isn't? But who here has the gift that this man has? Do you know what he did?
- Homeless Angel: I'm afraid if you've seen what I've seen, you'd think of him as nothing more than... an abomination.
- George: Abomination? Try miracle worker.
- [Metatron gives look of discontent]
- Homeless Woman: Try Messiah.
- Metatron: Better.
- Dean Winchester: [Fear and uncertainty in his eyes] What the hell is happening to me, you son of a bitch?
- Crowley: Liquor before beer? Bad tacos? How should I know?
- Dean Winchester: I can't turn it off!
- [He can barely stand still]
- Dean Winchester: Ever since I killed Abaddon, it's- it's like this whole... other *thing*! I get this high, and I- I- I need to kill. I mean I really, *really* need to kill, and if I don't...
- Crowley: You yack your guts out.
- [pause]
- Crowley: It's the mark.
- Dean Winchester: Meaning?
- Crowley: It wants you to kill. The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel.
- Dean Winchester: How much less better?
- Crowley: One would imagine the least less better.
- Dean Winchester: [quietly] So, dead.
- [Crowley sort of shrugs and nods. Dean is working hard to focus]
- Dean Winchester: Cain had the mark. He didn't die.
- Crowley: Cain was a demon. Your body's not strong enough to contain the blade's power.
- Dean Winchester: [Grabs his right forearm...] What if I got rid of it?
- Crowley: You *want* to get rid of it?
- Dean Winchester: [pause, struggling inwardly] What I want is Metatron.
- Crowley: Go on.
- Dean Winchester: But, I have to get through that door, and I have to get to the blade. And you're gonna help me.
- Metatron: Most people -- even the real belly crawlers living in filth... Or Brentwood... They don't want to be cynical.
- Dean Winchester: What, are you blaming me for giving them what they want, giving them a brand they can believe in?
- Dean Winchester: I'm blaming you for Kevin! I'm blaming you for taking Cass' Grace. Hell, I'm blaming you for the Cubs not winning The World Series in the last 100 freaking years. Whatever it is... I'm blaming you.
- Crowley: Love, if I wanted a soapy massage from Dr. Phil, I would have hit 3 on the speed dial, all right?
- Crowley: Excuse me. I'm not exactly demon Minion number three here. As the kids say, I've got mad skills.
- Crowley: The more you kill, the better you feel. The less you kill, the less better you feel.
- Dean Winchester: How much less better?
- Crowley: One would imagine the least-best better.
- Metatron: Do you have any idea how much pan-cake makeup and soft lighting it took to get God to work a rope line? He hated it. And, you know, humans sense that. So they prayed harder and longer and fought more wars in his name. And for what? So they could die of malaria? Leukemia? And all the while, blaming themselves! Oh, if only I'd been more prayerful, God would have loved me! God would have saved me! You know what? God didn't even know their name! But I do. Because I've walked among them. And I can save them.
- Dean Winchester: Sure, you can. So long as your mug is in every Bible and What would Metatron do? is on every bumper.