Part 1 Dean and Sam (cont.)
Significant exchange # 2. The mandatory Impala scene.
I mean, what exactly did we do back there, sam? - Yeah, I'm not putting it in the win column, either. - We saved a few dicks, A-a-and we killed an innocent girl. I got a heartbroken kid And a woman who's so pissed at me... - I see what you mean about facing your past. It's, uh [chuckles] It's awesome. Thanks. - Dean. - I mean, all we do is make a mess. - That's not true. We do save lives, now and again. - Yeah, I guess. I'm just... I'm just tired of all the bad luck, you know? - Well, you know, number one, Bad luck is kind of in the job description. And two, it's not all bad. Really. Look at me. I mean, at least satan's left the building. - Yeah. It's the little things. - And I have a soul because of you. I never thanked you for that, did I? - Ah, it's all good, man. - Well, thanks. - You'd have done the same for me. - I mean it. Look, we keep our heads down, keep swinging. We'll lose some. Hopefully, we'll win more. And... I don't know. Anyway, for what it's worth, I got your back. - Yeah, I know.
Apart from Dean's interaction with the Breadens and the messages it brought forth, this last exchange is pretty much what made the episode for me. Just, like I've pointed out early on in this overview - quite possibly not for the anticipated reasons of 'awwwww, the boys are back - together against the world'. Which is also true (at least they seem to be headed there), but I'm firmly convinced that's not the only message the scene succeeded in transmitting. Far from it.
I do believe, this exchage, the way it played out between the boys, the verbalizations as much as non-verbal context (glances, facial expressions, etc. - especailly those of Dean, for he was the one reacting to Sam's soliloquy du jour, for the most part) depicted the brothers showing progress into a more mature (and yeah, I'm gonna use the term again - realistic!) standpoints concerning each other, their respective identities and the way brotherhood (and hunting partnership) defines the latter. The routes and directions of that progress are pretty much opposite, as a matter of fact (Dean is positioned to face outside the brotherhood more, Sam is inching, albeit gradually, towards facing Dean) - but those are incidentally the only viable ways for them to, possibly, reach adeqaute footing eventually - a gown up and healthy-ish, mutually respectful familial relationship, and equally healthy individualism. So I guess it's the movement that counts at the moment.
Let's have a closer look:
Like I've mentioned before, the depiction of Dean's stance as an outcome of this episode, and the angle of interpreting his choices had me teetering with worry (since his is usually the road of consistent self-abnegation and deprecation). For there were two possible messages that I absolutely dreaded: a) Dean chooses the hunt over the Breadens 'cause the hunt = awesome and necessary, despite the mess, whereas the Breadens = suuuuuhhhhck and redundant; b) All Dean wants/needs for Christmas is Sam. Which would've been underwhelming, at best, this late into the show and this late into the character development, given the accumulative effect of traumas, sacrifices, disappointments, revelations, etc.
So I was rather relieved the episode chose to transcribe Dean's choices and decisions as to the Breadens (which are definetely to be addssed at length in a bit) as having very little to do with Sam proper, equally little (if at all) to do with choosing the hunt over the normal, far more to do with allegedly mutilating psychological aspects of the hunt, and A LOT to do with Dean's own unresolved issues of self-worth, self-loathing and identity.
The last dialogue taps into those issues via Dean's lamentations on costs and effects. As way back in s2, Dean yet again turns his mind to what's being lost in the process of 'saving people, hunting things'. Only back then - what he regarded were hypothetical possibilities, what he faces now - are real losses. Tangible happiness, tangible loved ones hurt and heartbroken. Tangible failures in the realm that is supposed to justify all those other losses - the hunt. Tangible lives lost to the cause. What is it worth giving up, if you can't save everyone? If you can't save yourself? Pile up Dean's acute awareness of the irreplacable chinks the hunt, according to his estimations, consistently makes in one's idividual humanity too. I wouldn't assess Dean's stance as defeatest, though. More a philosophical one, indicative of the hightened level of comprehension, professional and personal evaluation. Indicative of Dean's persistent maturily. It's asking questions like those, estimating the sacrifaces for what they're worth, not what they gain in the outcome - every step of the way - that provides for faringin on this side of human. Deriving methodological principles of possibly minimizing the costs so as the value of effects is not exponentially diminished approaching irrelevant.
In this respect, Sam's glass-half-full, up-and-at-'em, we still save lives, suck-it-up-soldier kind of pep-talk rings rather amuzing on their professional level. That's the kind of pep-talk Dean might've given Sam waaaaay back in the day (before Hell, the Apocalypse and RoboSam). The kind of pep-talk John might've given his son (and most likely did, more than once). It's the kind of pep-talk that Dean still needs to an extend, no arguing here, in the short-term to hold onto something and keep going and fighting as is (made me remember Zacharriah's speech at the end of It's a Terrible Life too). But it's not the kind of talk and the kind of arguments that can help Dean resolve the questions he poses on a fundamental level nowadays. It's a hoodoo band-aide to retain the status quo, not a surgical treatment. 'Cause Sam is still a step behind in perceiving his brother. 'Cause Dean is not 'exactly the same' as a year and a half ago. Not exactly the same he was a month ago.
The arguments Sam supplies are perfectly viable, but they tend on the side of comparative measuring of effects, regardless of the costs (greater effects presumably justify whatever costs). It's in keeping with how Sam's mind works, too (he's always been an ends justify the means kinda guy). But it's not how Dean is. Not anymore. Not completely. Dean survived Stull Cemetery only to face RoboSam. Dean's been Death and held Natural Order at his fingertips. Dean's facing the plausibility of losing his woman and kid for real (I'll explain my standing on the matter a bit later - pure linguistic deduction here). Dean *counts* each individual cost now, *feels* that each individual cost matters, however grandiouse the effects. The way Dean reacts to Sam's argumnents is peculiar:
- 'Satan's left the building'. Dean is fidgety, eyes downcast and he's ruefully ironic eventually. The mirth of the jibe never makes it up to his eyes. It's a grand victory. 6 billion lives saved. But the indivdual costs are immeasurably high too: Sam's lifetime in the Cage, Dean's year of grief that brought him to overlook and then discard the life he *could* and *did* enjoy, the Wall in Sam's mind that can crumble at any given moment.
- 'I have a soul because of you'. Dean is sqirmish, yet again. Eyes downcast yet again. He'll have none of that. Not just due to humility, but 'cause there are costs to consider that won't allow him count Sam's resoulment as an all-around win. Those costs are paid in RoboSam's soulless antics, in lives lost to RoboSam's exploits, in lives Dean took while Death, in lives his mistake screwed-up for good, in Dean's shattered chance at a family, in Sam's endangered sanity.
Dean, by the end of the episode is depicted as being in a mindset where he acknowledges those arguments and appreciates their credibility, appreciates the sheer fact that Sam offers them, but can't be exhaustively satisfied or placated by them.
The personal plane of arguments Sam provides to 'make Dean sanp out of it', remarkably, works pretty symmetrically.
Whether deliberately or not, Sam chooses the arguments that place his own self on the scale of 'win': conquest of Lucifer, gratitude for his resoulment, a claim of having Dean's back. In a word, Sam is offering Dean *himself* as a major argument in favor of their alleged mutual success.
Don't get me wrong, please. As far as Sam's characterization goes - this is a profoud step. That he should a) turn to Dean and offer ways to 'fix' his brother out of his funk as best Sam knows how at the moment; b) THANK Dean for resoulment (about effin' TIME! three episodes too late as it is); c) point Dean out that *Sam* is fighting by his side no matter what - all this is big. Belay that - HUGE. And counts. Those are the mental and interactive spaces *Sam* needs to steer into and adhere to henceforth to recapture any itinerary to maturity. But as I've pointed out, those stances, however, fall a step or two short of where Dean is now.
For yet again, what Sam offers by way of aguments, are issues of the hunt, pros and justifications of their vocation ('job description'). Whereas what Dean is in search of at the moment, are human undertones, ways to reconcile personal costs with the professional effects. Since Dean has officially established that the hunt is unsupernaturally damaging for the soul. So Dean is looking at and looking for his own self within the framework of the hunt, whereas Sam is seeing the framework of the hunt, within Dean's self. They won't gain equal footing, till this cognitive discrepancy continues.
There was a time when *all* Dean longed for and equated to happiness were the things Sam offered and recounted in this scene (Cf. Shadow, s1, All Hell Breaks Loose, s2, Sex and
Violence, s4, Dark Side of the Moon, s5, the list can go on): a brother who appreciates him and cares, a brother who's got his back against impossible odds, a brother who's *there* for him. Dean still fundamentally needs all those, sure enough, always will. But the void carved within Dean by the more recent costs and losses exceeds the boundaries of what Sam alone can fill now, both personally and professionally. Through the episode Dean got yet another glimpse of what he actually had, a stone he, unbeknowest to himself rolled up to the crest only to lose grasp of, the things and emotions he doesn't permit himself to keep craving, so what Sam offers is actually not all Dean wants any more, but all he believes he can have (at least for the time being). And which is more, all Dean believes he deserves, for Sam and himself (and Bobby) are presumably birds of a feather - damaged and messed up, even if swinging too.
Ergo: 'Yeah, I know' - spoken softly; there's gratitude and recognition in Dean's gaze, but also rue and a tinge of knowing regret. And the faint smile, yet again, doesn't quite make it all the way up into Dean's eyes. If only what he hears his brother say now, what he anticipated to hear and *believe* for such an excruciating while, didn't cost so dearly, didn't come to pass so late into... everything...
Sam's pledge of loyalty and appreciation is enough to keep Dean grounded for now, enough to keep him standing, probably, for those are the things Dean himself continuously believes in: save lives, save Sam, fight by Sam's side. But it's not enough to make Dean invigorated. Not as it used to once upon a time. Not something to look forward to, but a refuge. It's a poignant epiphanous coda to the episode. But an earned one, nonetheless to my mind. Dean's is not necessarily a tale headed for any semblance of a happy ending. And the narrative is not offering any quick-fix smoke-screen delusion in this respect. No 'we've still got job to do' victorious bang, even now that the brothers are technically together together - bodies, souls, vocally reaffirmed trust and other spare parts. Just subdued, contemplative sadess, soaked in regrets, to settle over.
Incidentally, Dean's general bearing through this scene offers Sam a credit of trust. Again. 'You'd have done the same for me', 'I know.'
Sam is yet to indulge into the 'show' to support all the rightful 'tell' he spelled out in this dialogue.
And I do believe, therein lies the key to the brothers' potential mutual healing. Dean is turning to face outside the confines of brotherhood and the hunt in search for his own identity, yet deems himself undeserving of anything beyond the perimeter they establish. Sam, on his part, is turning to face Dean as a parcel of identity quest of his own (in terms of Samness vs. RoboSamness), which would eventually bring them face in the same direction at a certain point, if they both continue on the course. Sam's consistent appreciation might help Dean tackle self-worth issues (and go forward to 'deserving' what he needs and wants), as much as Sam's consistent appreciation may prove *the* nature of his own redemption. Yeah, you got it - the point is: Sam's *consistent* appreciation of Dean. It takes time and input of effort, but it's definitely worth the trouble.
I've pointed out in last episode overview, that Dean was the one doing the brotherhood heavy lifting. Well, looks like it's about time Sam took a page out of his brother's book. Precisely 'cause, despite the Wall and memories of RoboSam, Sam appears to be in far more organic and stable shape, as of the end of this episode, than Dean. Sam is *not* undergoing a cripling exiscential conflict currently: Hell is tucked behind the Wall, RoboSam is still more of a distant sporadic memory than an actual experience, and Sam is long past fundamentally questioning the hunt as a viable vocation or the moral and ethic dilemmas it issues. Whereas Dean is assaulted by all of the recounted issues full-force, as of now. Add up the responsibility for Sam's sanity and repercussions of resoulment, personal floored sense of self-worth into the mix. That renders Sam far more apt to step up to the brotherhood plate, nowadays. At least from where I'm standing.
The point is however, *how* it is Sam chooses to step up to the plate.
Yet again, I'm left ambivalent as to Sam's closing soliloquy in terms of its intent and execution ratio.
The intent appears to be well-advised: make Dean feel better, help him see the brighter side of life. Which is good. And necessary. And brotherly.
The execution, however, leaves me wondering, yet again. Certain aspects of it (execution) are looong overdue, like I've mentioned before: the Big Fat Thanx for resoulment; the claim to have Dean's back. It's been a while Dean needed to hear that. As far as the latter point goes - we're talking seasons, not just episodes.
At the same time, given the outcome of the case - a tragic civillian casualty - Sam seems pretty nonchalant. Downright dismissive of Dean's attempted navel gazing, meeting it up with a string of rather generic arguments (of which only the ones mentioned above stand out on a personal impact level - the thank you and the I've got your back). Than again, given the pre-history of RoboSam Dean's aware of full-scale - the latter mignt ring more as a promise yet to be carried out, than an affirmation.
The major reason Sam's speech rings off-kilter to an extend, in my individual perception - is the same I stumbled over when Sam steered Dean to the Breadens. Sam seems to effectively gloss over the precise emotional state Dean is by the end of the episode, due to the fallout with the Breadens. It's the woman Sam knows Dean spent *years* pining for (saw Dean dream of, literally), yet the alleged loss of Breadens is filed right up there alongside a hapless civillian casualty: regretful but invetable. Nothing to loose any sleep over. Huh?
Yet again, Sam is effectively overlooking the fact that Dean's inner configuration might deviate from the pattern of 'big brother' (not discard it, but spawn and incorporate more elements: a parent, a husband). My guess it's either wishful, proprietory-type thinking on Sam's part - to cling to a familiar pattern that makes him feel safe (he knows how to deal with big brother Dean but has no idea how to tackle Dean-the-family-man, caring for someone else other than Sam); or an inherent inablity to perceive Dean's underlying personal hues and insecurities, overshadowed by the prominent hunter persona. Quite probably - it's both.
But the truth is, that, unbeknowest to himself, by enforcing Dean's hunter streak (the pep-talk and all), Sam is fuelling Dean's personal insecurities now.
A better way to be a caring brother might've been for Sam to stuff Dean into one of Bobby's cars and wave him good-bye to go deal with a pissed woman and a heartbroken kid more profoundly: a long week-end over or something along those lines. There is no imminent crisis looming, the episode proved Sam is quite capable of faring on his own for some time without collapsing into a heap. But alas, no joy... In a way, methinks, just like Dean, back in the day had to learn to let Sam go (which is not the same to asabandon) in order to grow up, Sam needs to learn likewise. I'm sensing some furtile ground for further conflics here, both internal and interbrotherly.
Dean and Lisa.
Oh my... Oh dear... Oh Dean...
I'm not going to exhaust you, waxing fangirly poetic over how many brands of awesome Dean and Lisa (and Ben) are made of, though rest assured - I'm most apt and therein inclined.
Though this particualar installation of Dean's and the Breadens interaction didn't end up quite to my fangirly delight (deep in my heart I'm fairly convinced that's not the last we see of their interaction), I do firmly beleive it managed to accomplish some very significant effects:
- to showcase via solid contextual proof that both Lisa and Ben see and appreciate Dean for exactly who he is, tangled mess of issues and all (something Dean doesn't get much from those he usually considers family) but also won't cut him conformist slack for indulging in self-loathing, therefore ranking them a viable and veritable nuclear family of his very own;
- to showcase that Lisa and Ben *still* regard Dean as family (a man of the house and a parent);
- to showcase that Lisa and Ben are capable of bringing Dean to consider some fundamentally crucial issues and questions regarding his own sense of self, sense of identity and self-worth. Last time he had a chance to do that - he was literally confronting his inner self (in Dream a Little Dream...). Now it's Lisa and Ben making Dean pick up thinking along those lines again. That's some heavy-duty symbolism wrapped up in there.
To keep you honest and to wire your brain and heart into becoming a better, more wholesome and balanced person - THAT's what love and family and healthy relationships are all about, if you ask me. And that's what comprises the crucial beauty and significance of Lisa and Ben within Dean's life and heart. Something good to look up to and to move forward to. Alas, if only Dean managed to deem himself deserving of as much as a morsel of goodness.
The fact that Dean is pintedly depicted as being thoroughly affected and shaken to the core by the revelations about himself and the dynamics of their little makeshift family, Lisa and Ben brought him to confront, is indication enough how profoundly their opinion and respective standpoints matters to him. But neither Lisa nor Ben can do the job for Dean - *he* needs to be the one sorting out through his issues and moving towards a semblance of inner equilibrium, if he's ever to be a functional human being (hunt or no hunt), let a lone a family-man.
But first - the phone-calls Dean assiduously tired to avoid.
To my mind a reaction like that is quite in keeping with the bearings Dean is aware of now: last time Dean and Lisa met in person - he was a vampire, nearly harmed her and Ben. Something Dean is not likely to forgive himself any time soon, if at all. Dean's *job* since he was four was 'to protect' and 'to keep safe' (be it Sammy or anyone else he cares about). If he believes to have failed that imperative - he deems himself an overall Fail. He can't protect (or endangers) = he can't have or deserve having.
Last time Dean and Lisa talked - she called him out on the convolutied mess of issues he tries to bury and ignore. Sam factored prominently into that set of issues (whereas Dean's assumed monstrousity didn't, which he effectively overlooked) - since having failed to 'protect Sammy' from the Cage, Dean deemed himself undeserving of the solace and joy life by Lisa's and Ben's side offered. Survivor's guilt and all. Lisa's last phone-in testametn was for Dean to try and get his priorities straight. Not even for Lisa's sake, but for Dean's own. Which, incidentally, didn't comprise an either/or choice (Sam or the Breadens, the hunt or the Breadens) - that ceased to be and issue upon Sam's resurrection - but a chance for Dean to try and assess his responsibilities and personal contentment *beyond* caring for and affiliation with Sam. Sam will always be there, ranking high within Dean's soul, but Sam doesn't have to be *all* there is for Dean. We, the viewers, know Dean considered what Lisa said at length, know that he missed her and Ben. We know of the many times he almost called her (to apologise? to say 'I love you'? to ask for help and support? - all rolled in one, I guess), but since that misfortunate Veritas-spelled phone-call the mess revolving around Sam and Dean's involvement in it got even more complicated. Sam's desoulment, subsequent resoulment, the Wall that can crumble and almost did, Dean's fright to loose Sam again.
Now 'Lisa' calls, presumably to offer Dean a truce, a 'come back home' (why would she, otherwise?) - and Dean is certain he can't act on it, endowing the ringing cell with forlorn, anguished glances. For Sam's Wall nearly cracked. So should Lisa invite him back into her life - he'll have to decline, for exactly the same reason the fallout happened in the first place: he can't afford to leave Sam to his own devices. And he won't be able to even begin explaining why over the phone. So, where Dean is concerned, he might have got himself convinced that Lisa would deduce he didn't even ponder what she said the other time and chose Sam over her and Ben 'cause he doesn't care for her and Ben all that much. Which is not true, but it might appear that way from where Lisa's standing, should Dean pick up the phone *now*.
So, to my mind, his reluctance, among other things, was fueled by desire to buy some time. To sort things out a bit first and find his bearings wrt Sam, his soul, the Wall and ways to keep it all together. Like in case with Veritas - it was not the best possible time to confront Lisa over the phone. Dean wasn't wrong, as a matter of fact.
The kitchen conversation.
Dean and Lisa are so *married* in that scene. For real. Even while at odds, there's synchronisity to their interaction, there's equality, there's underlying respect and grace. And there's heartache - for each other.
So 'Mary and John' in a way. A man and father who wallows in a truckload of issues and runs from himself as well as from the ones who need him and accept him the way he is, and a woman and mother who's left behind, who loves him still but who won't stand nor cut him slack for a misplaced pity-fest. What can I say, foremost? Lisa let Dean in. Again. Didn't slam the door in his face, didn't up and left for her date, but let him in, offered him a beer, cut to the chase through Dean's BS and told Dean many a thing he needed to hear in so many words. I cheered for that woman all the way through.
And no, as a matter of fact I don't think she's an ev0l b*tch for going out. She's a woman, lovely, intelligent, who's in a weird, on-and-hold-on relationship (and we're talking roughly a decade here, not just that one post-Apocalyptic year) with an amazing, loving, caring but unbelievably complicated, damaged, issue-ridden man, whose line of work doesn't even offer any guarantee that he's alive at any given moment. As of that evening she didn't even have a clue if that relationship was still verirable. *We*, the viewers know Dean mesmerized her phone number many a while as a love-struck teenager. *We* know he had a letter written to Ben, in case he didn't make back from the Great Beyond. But Lisa is quick to point out - that doesn't help her figure out her and her son's standing with Dean. *She* doesn't know any of that.
But more prominently, that date of hers - a respectable Dr. Matt - had nothing to do with any of the matters of importance. Yet again, I cheered when she would have none of Dean's ill-advised jealousy (though he was absolutely adorable - full-on Othello: a bit alpha-macho posessive, are we, Dean?). It's not about her choosing a different man, 'cause he's 'a' Matt whereas Dean's 'the' Dean. *The* man in her life. The father of her child, be it biological or not. It's, all of it, this long-overdue conversation includinng is about her and Dean, primarily. But more importably, I'm beyond glad Lisa manages to make it about Dean himself. Puts a looking glass up and brings him to ponder what he sees. What he *wants* to see.
Lisa's a smart and accepting woman. She doesn't consider herself entitled to demand anything of Dean. I love how graciously Lisa's lines of dialogue skirted the more raw bumps of their commited relationship: the hunt and Sam. In a swift sweep she makes it clear she knows the hunt will always be an issue (she told Dean so much earlier on too), and so would Sam. As long as Dean hunts, he'll hunt with his brother. And Lisa doesn't imply he abandonded either, if he wants to be with her and Ben. 'Cause it would be unfair. Too much has been demanded of Dean by too many sources, there's hardly anything left of his own self. And therein lies one of Dean's many problems.
Dean's 'outburst' 'Well then ASK something!' is very tell-tale, methinks. Dean is used to directives. He's fighting John's-dutiful-soldier persona every step of the way, but lifelong ingrained patterns die hard and with a vengeanace. Through most of his life, he's used to the notion that the love of those he holds dearest is to be earned. That his loved ones "want" and/or expect something of him: obedience and loyalty where John was concerned, unconditional support, care, protection, shelter, a ready-made safety-net where Sam is concerned. He's used to be the giver, not the taker. And he's used to asking nary anything in return. It hurts him profoundly when it pans out what he's *not* asking is not actually on the offer anyway (Cf. Sahdow, Dark Side of the Moon, Jump the Shark, etc.). But those revelations hardly ever make him raise his voice and ASK for himself. Partially, due to those notorious self-worth issues, which prevent Dean from deeming himself entitled to reciprocated love and care. Lisa wouldn't let him fall into that pattern of directive and imperative. She wouldn't turn their relationship, for what it's worth, into a call of Dean's duty. *Dean* needs to speak up and ask for what he wants. 'Cause when you're truly loved, you *are* entitled. That's something Dean never quite got a chance to figure out, up to now.
Besides Lisa manages to kick-start Dean's mind into yet another crucial revelation, by the closing question she poses. Dean is used to being dispersed within the lives of those he loves. He either views himself a *part* of somebody's life (Ben and Lisa are one example: 'this is not my life', 'they let me *in*'), or is on the outside looking in. On two separate occasions that was the case with the two people Dean breathed the very names of: Dad and Sam. Sam made it clear several times he didn't consider nor want Dean a part of a 'normal' life he envisioned for himself once. The rediscovery of Adam demonstrated Dean that John also had a life in mind, that didn't factor Dean as a part of it. What all of this brought Dean to effectively overlook that it's *his* life in question, and it's up to *him* to consider, or want, or invite somebody as a part of the life, centered around Dean's *own* self. Self-centeredness is not Dean's gig, but Lisa confronted him with the truth, that *Dean* needs to define the shape and structure of the life he lives. Noone can (or should) do it for him. *He* gets to figure out what it is he wants for himself, whom he wants it from and to what extend. From where I'm standing, this a HUGE, marvelous, if tough, existential revelation for Dean to face. Exactly the kind capable to steer him further on the road to more mature, healthier self-identification and self-definition.
Did I say I cheered for Lisa? Well, truth be told, I cheered out loud.
Now, if only Dean could consider himself deserving of all the things he *can* want for himself.
Which brings us down to...
Part 3