Dean brought more cleaning fluid with him than he really needed, which is good. It makes the clean up a lot easier than it would be otherwise. The black goop sizzles on contact with the solution, most of it vanishing that way. By the time he's done, the motel room reeks of Pine-Sol and Lemon Fresh and Dean wants to be sick. He never used to hate those smells, but they're really starting to wear thin.

His clothes are covered in the stuff, too, but damned if he's going to soak his shirt in Pine-Sol. Instead he strips off his shirt and jeans and dumps both into a trash can, soaking them liberally with lighter fluid before dropping in a lit match.

So okay, that means he's sitting on the hotel bed in nothing but a pair of boxers, but in his opinion that's a hell of a lot better than being covered in Leviathan crap.