Sam's exhausted and hurting and, frankly, sleep is a very nice place to be.

It's not somewhere he can stay indefinitely, though, because being human means all sorts of problems from time to time. Including having to use the bathroom. Which means that, some time after Gabriel slips into bed with him and Jess, Sam finds himself coming around to his bedroom. And the fact that he's definitely not alone in bed.

He holds his breath, taking a moment to take stock of his surroundings. While others might think that the bunker would be a strange place for his heaven, they'd be people who didn't realize that his only real home before had been mobile. And with the Impala in the bunker, it's the best of both worlds.

What he knows of Heaven, though, says that this shouldn't be possible. Because he recognizes both sets of breathing in the room. And neither Jess nor Gabriel were ever in the bunker. So for them to be in his Heaven, made up of memories of the bunker? Well, it doesn't make sense.

Sam shifts, then stifles a groan as aches and pains make themselves apparent. And, beyond that, the fact that he really needs to pee.

Which, honestly, makes even LESS sense. Why should he have to pee if he's dead?