I do know that. I've heard this all before. We've had this talk.

[Claire doesn't know how to rehash it with the same emotion. She couldn't just shut herself off to the reality that she wasn't good at anything else. College felt dull, unnecessary, unimportant and she couldn't stop herself from helping where she could.

It's a nice car, but it's not hers, a fourteen-year-old loaned it to her and Dean'll probably get a kick out of it later. The impala's still in town, Sam probably has it, but she hasn't seen it for a minute and doesn't want to give Dean any false hope. Not after the past few months she's had.]

I've only got the spark notes on purgatory, but this is pretty much that. Tidal waves of blood, loved ones coming back from the dead, organs in the wall. It's basically one big hellscape, so, welcome home.