Do hell-hounds go to Heaven too? Just sayin'... SPN 6.08
Have been out for most of the weekend, so am just now catching up on the latest Supernatural episode (6.08) 'All Dogs Go To Heaven'. Yeah, I'm slow as far as lengthy ramblings go.
Cut to avoid possible spoilers.
1. The episode as is.
I should say, this episode came across as one of the most solid ones, story-wise, through the season, so far (right up there with 'Live Free or Twihard' and 'Weekend at Bobby's'), from where I'm standing. Precisely 'cause both the actual story-of-the-week and the meta-story (myth-arc or whatever it is these days) didn't battle ground for once, nor appeared too gimmicky or too left-fieldish for the plot's sake. But were woven together to a fair enough equilibrium, providing for both the viable monster-of-the-week drama and the transient plot advancement and consistent Winchester boys' characterization and interaction. I rather happened to like that.
The Alpha-story. But not the one you'd expect tackled in this paragraph. Not just yet.
Lucky-the-skinwalker appeared as cute a dog as heartbreaking it turned out a human. A bittersweet addition to the show's scarce menagerie of at least marginally redeemable 'humane' monsters. And a nice cry-out to the only other hapless canine we grew to empathize with - were!Madison. Then again, this episode was sprinkled with cry-outs of various degrees of subtlety, but more on that a bit later. I must admit I'm beyond glad Lucky made it through the episode in one piece (unlike poor werewolverene Madison), however that last shot of him trodding away all lonely and beat got me misty-eyed, if for a briefest of moments. Of course, that farewell exchange with Mandy, as well as the said heart-wrenching shot were a symbolic cry-out within this season's character interaction and conflict framework, in and of themselves (which we're yet to address), but still. Sniffing right there. I'm a sucker. Oh well... I'm wondering now if we'll be meeting Lucky again some time soon, though. Since the Alpha Skinwalker is still at large, and it took the Winchesters-cum-Campbells at least two episodes to nail down the Alpha Vamp the other time. So, could be, Lucky'll turn up to volunteer as an inside man dog, for instance, to feed the boys latest first-hand tabs of the Alpha Dog (literally), or something along those lines. One can hope, right?
The Beta-story. You know, the one about the Alphas (lame pun every bit intended, implied and remotely decently carried out). Okay, so looks like the Alphas of every single monster species out there are hell-bent on drafting an army of there own. Of there own kind, that is. A gutsy and time-consuming endeavor as it is, from the overall spin of it, the ultimate imperative for every faction would appear to turn as many accessible and/or adjasent humans into the brand of monster as possible. An army is usually rather redundant in times of peace, so a major offensive of some kind seems to be in the making. Possibly the one involving the take-over of underapocalyptic Earth by monsters. The end-result being pretty much the same - the bulk of 'homines sapientes' populace either extinct or rendered into monsters en masse.
The question remains, though, whether the Alpha Monsters are in it together, working a unified Monster Junta of sorts, to rule the universe (since both Heaven and Hell are in convenient anarchic disarray as of a year ago), or are those split-up, unrelated units, plotting against each other. In other words, are we on the road to a messy global Orcs vs. Uruk-hai Mexican stand-off (with the Winchester boys caught up right in the middle, no doubt), or is there an Eye of Sauron behind it all? And if so, who's 'Da Man'?
It would appear, Crowley is not in on the deal, for he's after the various Alphas himself. Then again, he's after the Purgatory too, full of monstrous afterlife. Or so he claims. He might as well opt to decapitate monstrous units, hold the 'generals' hostage (as it's Crowley's obviously newest kink) and take charge himself to lead the onslaught - be on Earth or on Heaven, since Hell's already bowed to him. Or so he claims.
Unless, of course, there's a different leader - 'rising in the East' - to have prompted the assembly of monster hords, Crowley is aware of. And is now racing against time to both eliminate the command staff of the bulging monster army and to get access of a potential monster army of his own, suspended in Purgatory, to face off. We shall see, I guess.
Dean & Lisa. Yeah, I know, the 'beauty-and-the-beast' story du jour was that of Lucky-the-skinwalker and Mandy, but honestly, how much of it was actually about the trials and tribulations of Dean's struggle both for and with domesticity, normal and acceptance from without as much as from within. Dean has been right there with Lucky, having found unconditional solace, peace and as close a semblance of normal happiness as it might have ever got for a 'stray dog' like himself. All in the home of a woman, he grew to cherish beyond many other a thing dear to him, and her son, he grew to care about as his own child. Dean has been right there with Lucky, in the acute need to protect this newfound family, this safe heaven of his own, from whatever menace is out there. Dean has been right there with Lucky, having brought something unfathomable and dark on his family's doorstep, having imperiled them by the sheer virtue of what he was, what he's become (both a hunter *and* a monster in Dean's case). Dean has been right there with Lucky, beading one last good-bye, accepting the ensuing rebuttal willingly for all it was justifiably worth, still hoping for absolution, not daring to plea for one. Dean has been right there with Lucky, walking away, his tail between his legs, alone and heartsick for all the things he deems it safer he doesn't crave, for the benefit of those he holds dear.
So it *has* been Dean's story, through and through, told to him from a monster's, he failed to become not too long ago, angle. I found it fitting that Dean was able to relate right to the core of Lucky's motives and to empathize with him even, on a certain level. Yet, Dean was well aware of the threat the kind of thing, that Lucky was, posed to Mandy and her son. The little heartfelt soliloquy Dean delivered on the possibility of Lucky turning the boy and Mandy was as much about Dean's recent gig as a vampire, as it was about Lucky proper.
And I kinda liked that, all in all, Dean had faith in Lucky, monster or not, doing right about his 'family'. The kind of faith Dean is in sore need of nowadays, to come to terms with what he believes he might have possibly done to Lisa and Ben, as an unfed vamp. Which of course, darling blatant RoboSammy had to stomp all over. Quite unwise so on Sam's part, for, what Dean obviously keeps flogging himself over was Sam's fault to begin with. And unless Dean manages to wire his mind (and all too self-disdainful heart) into a plausibly redeeming framework for what he *would* but more importantly *wouldn't* have done to his 'family' as a monster, Dean won't be able to move past Sam's complicity in his turning a vamp, and, hence, won't be able to reach acceptance (let alone forgiveness), regardless of whether Sam eventually gets his soul back or not.
The little moment of Dean contemplating wistfully to dial Lisa was neat and poignant, I believe. Those minute touches, punctuated through the last couple of episodes (Dean's jump at Christian for badmouthing Lisa, and now - this quiet kind of longing) work perfectly to point out Lisa and the life he first abandoned, then was shooed away from, is still on his mind. Which agrees with me personally, as a viewer, for this by extension means the year's worth of character's life is still regarded a meaningful enough part of who he is and has grown up to become (which I was kinda apprehensive the writers would just drop precisely for the reasons Lisa outlined - dangle a Sam in front of Dean and he's up and on the road without ever looking back). Given Sam is the way he is now, Dean might as well be contemplating the ultimate soundness of his decision to walk away from Lisa and Ben. Which is, sort of, a moot point by now too, because knowing what Dean knows about Sam's soul being still in the Pit, he can't just walk away and back to normal. No more than he can walk away from the knowledge of monsters going up in arms for whatever ambiguous reason. And he's compromised Lisa's and Ben's safety by showing up as a vamp at their place, so he hardly entertains the hope Lisa'd regard taking him back all that easily. If at all. [Of course, deep down in my shippy little heart I cling to the belief she'd reconsider and let him back into her and Ben's life - God knows, Dean deserves some peace of heart and safety].
In the meantime, Dean is literally trapped in this nightmarish kind of scenario with his brother back, yet still gone in all the ways that matter, and *absolutely no support system left intact*. Pretty much, Dean's in it alone. We already know Castiel's got his platter full with the celestial civil war and the like, and Bobby, while privy on the whole desouled!Sam matter, is clearly not freaked out enough to be a truly empathetic companion in Dean's misery. For let us keep in mind, that Bobby collaborated with Sam for a year and never perceived anything 'off' enough about the guy to leave no stone unturned prying what might've been wrong.
That leaves Lisa by far the only person Dean can imagine these days sharing the burden of loosing his brother to the latter's lack of soul. Again. But for the fact Lisa explicitly pointed out that Dean being virtually 'hung-up' on the very idea of his brother was instrumental to undermining whatever went into the definition of 'Dean/Lisa'. Leaving Dean to wonder, in all probability, if he, in fact, made the wrong call, letting Sam lure him into the mix again. The crux of the matter is, probably, that it was the only call Dean, being Dean, *could've* made back in the day it was not yet apparent if Sam truly came back 'wrong' or was just the upgraded version of his rather typical self-absorbed self. For Dean's love and care for his brother is, or at least used to be, a given, an unquestionable part of the who Dean believed himself to be. So now Dean is left tackling the repercussions of having chosen in favor of his undying love for his brother and all but slammed in the face for it by said brother's lack of... mmm... reciprocation. Which incidentally lands him amidst a pool of self-inflicted guilt for letting the woman and child in his life, his 'other' family, believe they had been his second choice altogether, for holding back on more outward and firmly backed-up care/tenderness/affection/etc. Oh, Dean...
Dean & Sam. Are non-existent at the moment. As in 'brothers', as in 'family', as in 'the Fabulous Angsty Winchesters', as in 'Dean & Sam'. Which is a rather bold move on the characterization front for a show that's built itself around the concept of brothers, or Brothers, who's epic overwhelming love transcends Time, Space, Heaven, Hell and God, on occasion. And I do have to admit - I miss the boys. As in 'them'. As in 'together against impossible odds'. But come to think of it, I begin to get increasingly worried if we, in fact, might never *quite* get them back any more. As in 'you don't tread the waters of the same river twice' [Heraclitus].
At the very least, it'll be highly improbable, and rather cheap, if Sam getting restocked with his soul could have the power to *automatically* undo all the experiences, actions, thoughts, choices he's undergone while soulless, let alone do away with the experiences and perception angles Dean has been subjected to while stranded with a soulless version of his brother. In any way, Dean and Sam are going to be *different* people on the far end of this season's quest for Sammy's soul, altered and scarred (at least Dean will be, that's for sure) by it. And those kind of people might not very well be able to go back to where they once were, or believed they used to be, familial relationship-wise. Much as it pains me to anticipate.
In the meantime, the word is - 'alienation'. As in ' a psychological process of growing apart through the span of time due to lack of immediate personal involvement and/or investment as part of the overall growing up process'.
And it's not that the boys have never hiked this emotional wilderness before. The situation of them quite plausibly growing up distant and borderline hostile, with no hunt as common ground for personal attachment, was explicitly played out in 'What Is and Should Never Be', as one of Dean's most deep rooted apprehensions - that Sam is putting up with him and cares for him only as far as the matters of hunt go.
Now 'Da Hunt' *is* the only common ground there is to share. And still it's not working all that smoothly as a 'buddy cop' partnership, if not brotherhood. It does manage to work, to be precise, up to the point either of the guys starts second-guessing the other's agenda/motives/ability or gets doubtful as to the other's professional mojo, allegedly tempered by Sam's heartlessness or Dean's overemotional investment, respectively. Which happens pretty much every single step of the way. Not conductive to a working relationship. At all.
What aggravates the situation further, on Dean's side of the deal, is that it's inherently non-symmetrical. While I do believe Dean's still got Sam's back, regardless of who or what he believes Sam to be or to be not nowadays, the same doesn't go the other way around. The vamp incident proved as much, and Crowley made a specific point to rub some salt into the wound - when push comes to shove Sam is, in all probability, not to be trusted or counted on. I think Dean recognizes that, as he recognizes many a painful truth about where the whole 'desoulification' plot has landed him and what used to be his brother. And this kind of recognition hurts.
This kind of scenario is, too, not uncharted within the Winchester brothers common history. We did live through The Rift of early season 5, with Dean unable to trust his brother with his life, his back and goals and Sam having the decency to acknowledge viable premises for that distrust. If anything, this episode's the closing setting - at the picnic site table - is a direct cry-out, in the string of this episode's cry-outs, to the corresponding 'Good God, Ya'll' scene. Back then Dean made a deliberate effort, eventually, to overlook their 'irreconcilable differences' and begin to trust his brother again. This time around, the horror of the situation is, that, no matter whether Dean goes that extra mile to stretch his loyalty, it won't make much difference to Sam. Wouldn't elicit neither gratitude, nor contempt, nor an urge to return the gesture. For Sam 2.0, as he put it in so many words, 'doesn't really care about Dean'.
Which brings us subsequently to the crucial Sam 1.0 vs. non-Sam 2.0 dilemma:
'But, Dean, I am still me - same melon, same memories. I-I still like the same music. I still think about Suzie Heizer."
'I don't know what you are - 'cause you're not Sam. I mean, it's your gigantor body and maybe your brain. But it's not you. So just...stop pretending.'
Which is, curiously, a cognitive one more than it is existential. In other words, Sam being Sam or non-Sam is a matter of perception primarily and, partially, a matter of self-perception.
The word is, oddly enough, yet again, alienation. As in 'the cognitive mechanism of detachment, employed to attain the perspective necessary for relatively exhaustive and relatively unbiased perception of an object'. Dean has been resorting to it ever since 'You can't handle the truth', presuming his brother might be Lucifer incarnate or anything else, other than himself. Dean's exercising alienation still, now that he knows his brother is not somebody else per se, just lacks a spiritual dimension. Dean clings to to the necessity to believe desouled Sam to be decidedly *not* Sam at all, for if he were, that would mean all the atrocities Dean has witnessed his brother do and contemplate would *have to* be factored into the definition of 'real Sam'. And once factored in there, they would inevitably make 'real Sam' someone Dean is unwilling and/or unable to recognize, put up with, let alone love. To embrace this *new* person by his side as 'real Sam' would just hurt too much. So Dean'd rather alienate with all his might.
Incidentally, that measure of detachment, introduced into Dean's perception of Sam 2.0, is precisely what it, from the overall looks of it, takes to estimate, that alienation is not working any particular wonders to effectively divorce *the* Sam from desouled!Sam. I actually quite enjoyed how Dean and Sam are repeatedly on different pages in regard to whether Sam 2.0 is Sam or not in this episode. Whence Sam claims that he is, Dean ferociously denies it. And once Sam, allegedly, admits that he, probably, isn't the former Sam, Dean is more contemplative and cautious on the matter, doesn't jump on board, hailing Sam's confession with an ardent 'told 'ya!' of his own.
The very last scene of the episode is played out beautifully to convey the subtle wariness on Dean's part.
He did get the long awaited "I think I should probably go back to being him." And he did spell out the expected 'It's a step. We do what we got to do. And we get my brother back.' But all in all, this whole conversation is a fiat. Not a truce, and not that much of a step forward to meet halfway, but a mutually acknowledged deal of sorts. A conspiracy of lies, where both parties are aware what's being said is not gospel truth and the opposite party is well aware of it too.
It does seem Sam is moving blindfolded nowadays, trying to strike the *right* cords within his brother, according to his estimations. Complying out loud he's not the real Sam just so appeared fitting to him and an appropriate thing to say at the moment, since claiming to be 'the good ole Sam' failed to work.
And Dean... Dean's neither thrilled nor appalled through all of this exchange, just very very tired. And very very sad. For it would appear, he's arriving at the assumption that his *brother* will never be back in the shape nor form identical to the one that was before. Dean went to Hell himself and knows what the experience can do to one's soul. And he wasn't anywhere near the Devil's Trap. Still, regular Hell turned him up a different person. Not fiendishly different, but still - more bitter, disillusioned, traumatized, more ruthless in a way. Less human, in a word. He has no way of anticipating what Sam's soul is undergoing within the Cage, what it will turn out to be, once freed. What sort of an entity his brother will become, once the 'planetside' experiences and choices of his mind are coupled with the otherworldly ones of his soul. Could this entity prove more menacing, than Lucifer himself? Would it be safer, as in 'apocalypse-proof safer', to never find their way back to Sam's soul at all? I'm not sure Dean is currently too far away from considerations along those lines. And they're taking their toll. He's bone-weary from those implications. And he's way of coping for the sake of his own sanity is, obviously, to consciously pretend he's right where he was a year ago: Sam is still caged with the Devil, and he's searching for a way to bring him back. With Sam's corporeal form walking around nearby no more than a vicious aberation on that particular quest - to pull *Dean's* Sammy from Hell. The only difference being, you know, Dean is *aware* of that extra mental effort he agrees to employ in order to ignore the plausibility of non-Sam still being Sam enough. And Dean mourns not just the brother he lost now, but more likely, the brother he'll never get back. And I'm not even treading into the whole 'the-brother-he-might-have-never-had' issue. It's too painful as is.
Dean. Some individual notes more on the boy.
Guess I'll have to keep saying this - Dean needs a hug. Right about now. And a mug of hot cocoa. And oreo cookies. And Sammy. Pre-Stanford version. For any other one repeatedly proves a deal-breaker with a knack to leave Dean hardly any room for doubt how little his brother actually bothers to care about him. Soul or no soul. Then again, in the days of yore there was also Flagstaff, so probably, the only version of Sam that can work to ease Dean's melancholy at this point is the fireworks!Sam from Dean's private Heaven. Wonder if Dean's aware no soul fetched from the Cage can ever mold the man by his side into that boy again. I wasn't sure my heart could break more for Dean than it already is, but apparently, it's still happening.
Like I've said - Dean is both wary and worn-out. The ordeal of tackling a Sam that is not and fueling faith the real Sam is still out there, an attainable dream, while common sense and life-long expertise suggest he's not, is clearly getting to him. It shows in the way Dean looks - lines and creases more pronounced. He's aged more in those couple of months by non-Sam's side than in forty years of Hell. I wonder if he's getting a single good night's sleep either. We know Sam doesn't sleep, but Dean seems to be no luckier in that department either - the way he slumbered, fully dressed, on top the covers didn't very well spell 'comfort' nor 'rest' by any stretch of imagination. Loved the white socks, though! *g* Yeah, I'm shallow.
It appears, Dean drinks less now than, let's say, two episodes ago. Could be the strain of wrapping his mind and heart around what Sam is and is not hurts so much, he's numb from sheer pain, not needing any additional anesthetic.
Dean & Corwley. Looks like Dean's consistently hostile stance on the whole Crowley deal requires a separate note.
There are reasons why officials exercise the imperative to *not* negotiate in hostage situations. 'Cause, chances are, the demands, once indulged, would increase exponentially, and the hostages would get killed still. Apparently, Dean understands that, hence fights tooth and nail against complying to collaborate with Crowley. For Crowley is *not* interested to release Sam's soul (given he indeed has a grip on it, which I still doubt), no matter how many Alphas the guys hunt down or even bring him the keys of Purgatory on a platter. Crowley is noting, if not cautious, and wouldn't let go of such major leverage over the Vengeful Winchesters. Then again, there's a probability, which Dean woefully recognizes too, that the longer the boys work for him, the more kicks they're gonna get from the job, up to the point of getting Sam's soul back proving all but redundant. The longer you stare into the abyss, the deeper it peeks into you. Dean's literally been there, done that. He's complied to torture souls in Hell. There's no guarantee Crowley's next task won't be akin to that. He's abhorred and disgusted to be blackmailed by Sam's soul to turn into something he'd barely escaped back in the day. Something that still haunts and plagues him.
But even more so, Dean is abhorred by Sam's lack of anxiety. Dean wants his brother back, that's a given. But for it to pan out true, he needs his brother's *mind* to recognize the inherent wrongness of what they've got themselves into. He needs his brother to not *enjoy* or readily move on from the issue of being one of Crowley's goons. Which, of course, Dean fails to elicit from this version of Sammy, driving himself further into the self-fulfilling delusion that this by no means could be the real Sam.
On a larger scale, I think, Dean needs Sam 2.0 to consciously perceive his shortcomings and to consciously readjust priorities, or else the rediscovered soul would be of little help. That's why, I believe, Dean wasn't excited all that much by Sam's final confessions. For yes, Sam admitted to some major wrongdoings (as Dean views them) and overall lack of care, but didn't indicate any inclination to reformat and upgrade his cognitive pattern in order to inch closer to his former - 'soulful' - self, if in frame of mind only. Hence, RoboSam's alleged willingness to go back to being 'real Sam' fell somewhat flat as far as Dean (and yours truly) was concerned.
Sam. Foremost, I do ardently adhere to the conviction that a *person* is the sum total of each and every experience, thought, emotion, choice and action taken and undergone through one's lifespan. Hence, the simple math of Sam - soul = non-Sam doesn't add up in my book. This person, in possession of Sam's mind and memories, will not cease existing once the soul is inserted back into the body. Nor will the separate experiences of soul and mind mechanically cancel each other out. Or I'll be severely disappointed.
Reunited with his soul, this person would emerge a far more different 'Sam' or even far more 'non-Sam', than he is now. In the way that he's gonna emerge a far more real Sam than he's ever been before the leap into the Cage. Or at the very least, no less real.
On a certain level, I guess, Sam is able to get this. Hence:
'I don't know if how I am is better or worse. It's different. '
However, I do not think there are grounds to believe Sam's final confessions were about 'taking the first step to recovery', moving forward to himself and the like. It would appear, the whole episode through (and earlier even) Sam is going along with the kinds of 'admissions' as far as he can deduce might agree with or please Dean. Let's see:
- Dean renders himself semi-coherent worrying Sam came back wrong - Sam claims he did come back 'wrong' and needs help (though in this very episode he admits to being not really bothered by all the alleged wrongness);
- Dean wonders if desouled Sam is still Sam - Sam assiduously claims he is;
- Dean rejects the remotest hint of probability that Sam is still Sam - Sam seconds, claiming he's different from the Sam he 'remembers', doesn't care, etc., but presumably wants to go back to how he once was ('cause that what it seems Dean wants to hear, from where Sam's standing).
See the pattern? Sam is adjusting his voiced out agenda according to what limited perception of Dean's emotional state he can master every given moment. The question is - why would he do that? I'd guess the one part Sam was sincere about was that he needed Dean around - (not necessarily to fetch his soul, mind you! just around). And thus he's coming up with all those various versions of the 'truth' about himself, that, as he estimates, might help secure Dean by his side. Whether it's for some sinister ulterior motives, or plain because it did occur to him that Dean's a valuable enough asset to enroll in hunt, escapes my rational grasp at the moment.
What apparently escapes Sam's grasp, though, is the fact that Dean's not buying into any of his allegations, however logical and eloquent they are.
Randomettes:
- Sam's lack of soul seems to be rendered by lack of selflessness, ability to sacrifice, among other things. Guess that's supposed to be transcribed as the flip side of compassion;
- The very last dialog was just 'ouch'. The boys are painful to watch these days (especially Dean). But upon 'I don't even really care about you' I actually went 'Okay, what else is new?' Couldn't help myself. We kinda did get that much since 'Shadow', s.1. And Sam's idea of Heaven managed to spell that loud and clear too. I wonder if Sam's connecting to those memories to get the idea across to Dean now? Sam *deduced* Dean believed he didn't care, and went along with it. For if Sam *can't* care, how can he know that he doesn't?
- Is Sam aware of what his soul goes through in Hell? I'm not sure what to make of Crowley's little show-and-tell at the beginning of the episode. One would assume Crowley appealed to Sam's real-time hellish experience. Does Sam have *any* recollection of what little time he did spend downstairs? A minute here could stretch into years inside the Cage.
- Does Sam's 'insomnia' have to do with the inability to connect to his soul? Are we supposed to believe the 'inner self', featured in dreams at times is actually the soul, as opposed to the subconscious mind? Has Sam lost any subconscious either - where hopes, fears, aspirations and apprehensions reside?
- The 'Roll over, Lucky. Speak!' interplay came across eerily Admiral Cainish to me. Then again, we do know he's totally capable of shooting civilians, he admitted to that much. And given Sam is juxtaposed to Cain, of all people, within the show-'verse symbolic framework, my sekrit crossover streak just went on red alert.
- Sniper!Dean was hawwwwwwwwwt! 'Nuff said *g*
- Crowley is desperate. The idea is too wayward to comprehend, but there it is. Crowley can see Dean might as well be not so easily lured in by the promise of Sam's soul, and Crowley goes berserk. He either needs those Alphas really badly, or holds a lot less leverage over the boys than he claims, as far as the whole matter of soul is concerned. Or else, he wouldn't need to resort to tacky power brokering. Rather than 'yell' about it, he could just preemptively snap his fingers, making Sam disappear back into the Cage for a second, let's say, to convince Dean once and for good. But I believe, he can't pull anything akin to that. Which leaves open the question whether it was even Crowley to snatch Sam's body out.