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Turns out it’s possible to get a crick in your neck in Heaven.
It fades almost immediately when Dean stands up and stretches. Nice. He has no idea how long he’s been dozing there. The clearing fuzziness in his brain and his eyes seems to say he’s had a solid nap, but the pitch of the sunlight over the water has shifted only slightly, if at all. Whatever the case, he feels rested. The grogginess is gone already. He’s ready to take stock of this new thing, here in this peaceful bubble. For the first time since he got here, he feels like he can focus his thoughts beyond stumbling through reactions. He resettles, this time into the chair, his arms braced between his knees. He stares out into the water and lets his mind run off-lead.
Of course, now that he feels like he’s ready to work through the assorted practical mysteries facing him, he finds that they don’t matter so much. The daylight cycle, the bathroom, the relative geography — he shrugs, literally and metaphorically. Those details will come when they come. He’s got time, after all. Heck, it wouldn’t surprise him a bit if Charlie’s got some kind of Heaven 101 Quick Start Guide set up.