Supernatural: Skin

Show Me Some, Baby by Sylvia Bond

Supernatural Season 1, Episode 6

This episode opens with the Feds rescuing a damsel to the sounds of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida. The camera zooms in on an about-to-be-captured Dean, who gives us a pornographic, slow-motion shoulder roll. I get incredibly hot watching this, for I am teased by the face of Evil Dean, with all the aggression and testosterone that comes with it. Kripke will tell me in his own time what led Dean to this sorry state and I trust Kripke.

Flashback a week to the present with Dean and Sam at a gas station, headed towards Bisbee, where, ostensibly, something supernatural awaits. They banter, as they do, while Dean fills up the Impala (given the size of an average Impala’s gas tank means the boys have to fill up every three hundred miles), and Sam checks his e-mail on his fabbo high tech cell phone. Dean mocks Sam for keeping in touch with friends he cannot possibly be himself with, and it’s interesting to watch Dean take the high road of honesty in relationships while at the same time touting the benefits of actually having no relationships and therefore having no need for such honesty. But, it’s Sam I sympathize with. Sam who hopes to go back to his normal life one day, and continues to communicate with it via e-mail.

Up on his phone pops the troubles of friend Becca, whose brother, Zach, is wanted for murdering his girlfriend. Both Becca and Zach swear he was somewhere else when the murder happened and thus begineth the twisty plot that will take the brothers 400 miles in the direction from which they just came. And why do they do this? Because Becca is Sam’s friend, and because it sounds like something that would interest the brothers, and because Sam wants to go. But really, it’s just because Sam wants to go. Dean spouts hardly a protestation, and off they drive.

Once there, they encounter Becca, slim and blond like so many TV heroines. She’s squatting in her parent’s empty McMansion, with the absent duo in Paris, and dropping out of school till Zach is free. Why are TV heroines richer than all of us put together? And what do these parents do for a living that allows them to spend half their time in Paris? (But the parents never materialize, so never mind.)

Predictably, the boys dither about whether Zach was a murderer, yes or no, is their kind of gig. It takes them 15 minutes of DVD time (longer if you see it with commercials) to come to the conclusion that the double act of Zach and his murdering twin is very definitely their kinda thing. By the Winchester time clock, this conclusion takes longer than usual, but I love how it’s never the same brother who objects to whatever problem presents itself, and that the brother who objects uses the same argument that the other brother used the last time. Finally, the brother who wins the argument (and because they love each other so, they never gloat), says something like “We’ve looked into less,” which settles everything. Well, you’ve got to hand it to the writers for at least trying to make this a logical plot point.

Sam lies to Becca that Dean is a cop so that they can get into Zach’s place to look around. The brothers live to look around. They must use one half of their brain to eyeball the blood splatters or the streaks of pus or the trail of bullets or whatever the M.O.W. (monster of the week) left behind, and the other half to observe how the majority lives. Since the brothers live out of battered old suitcases and duffle bags, seeing clothes in a chest of drawers must be quite a treat for them.

Anyway, they poke around Zach’s place. Dean tends to see the big picture, and while Sam eyes pools of drying blood, Dean walks the parameters, checking out family photos, the gore-spattered prints of exotic flowers (what’s a guy doing with chick-prints on his walls anyway?), and the open doorway through which an angry dog is barking. Both brothers surmise that the dog must have seen something paranormal, but of course, since the dog doesn’t go by the name of Lassie, no one is listening to it.

Exit stage right to see Zach sitting outside. He’s watching a young couple say goodbye as the man heads off on a business trip. (The couple is, of course, young and cute and thin.) But wait! Isn’t Zach in jail for the murder of his beloved girl? The weird iridescent flare in Zach’s eyes tells me that he is not normal, and that this is not Zach.

Exit stage left where Sam and Dean view the surveillance tape that Becca stole from Zach’s lawyer’s desk. That’s right, stole. Good, law abiding, white-collar, parents-in-Paris Becca. I shake my head. Meanwhile, as they look at the tape, Sam and Dean see the freaky eye flare. Most people would think it was some kind of light refraction, but not Sam and Dean. They know better.

Exit stage right to the cute young couple. Business man’s flight got canceled and so he’s home a little early. He shouts to the wife and it takes him a good while to see the spatters on the wall, but okay. He follows the trail, and finds his wife bound to a chair, covered with blood, sobbing for him, her own husband, to leave her alone. Hubby, confused, leaves her tied up, to call 911. But his double appears and smashes him across the head!

[nms:CW Supernatural,3,0]

Jump to the next morning, where it is, we are told by Dean, 5:30 a.m. Brother Sam plays detective, looking at light poles, seeing more blood (saying the word with a curious curl of his lips), and wondering if whatever it is can fly, while Dean leans against his beloved Impala and downs a coffee. His voice is morning-husky when he talks to Sam, but he seems content to stretch out like a basking ex-tennis pro. An ambulance goes by, tying in the plot of the young couple with where Sam and Dean are. My hat’s off to Kripke for his strength in this area, that of connecting two unconnected points. In the same scene, a weakness in the story happens when Sam and Dean gather information from helpful passers by and, somehow, from cops, who tell Dean straight off who attacked whom and what his story is. Cops don’t share with bystanders, and Dean is not your average butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-his-mouth guy, so how the heck does he get a cop to tell him anything? But, information always falls into the boys’ bejeaned laps, and frankly they’re very attractive while doing it, so I’m going to overlook this, though I will be forced to point it out whenever it occurs.

The boys figure out that the M.O.W. is a shape shifter, which can change itself into any person, any time. Sam figures that the thing hides in the sewers, so down they go, into the grinding damp, to waggle their flashlights and pull out those guns like I know they’ve been dying to do. They find a pile of goo that verifies they are correct (piles of goo happen when the shape shifter changes its current skinwear for something new), Sam is grossed out (looking like he’s going to barf), and they go back to the car to stock up on silver bullets, which are the only thing that will kill a shape shifter.

Sam gets a call from Becca, who complains that Dean is not a cop, and that they ruined Zach’s case by marching around on his bloody carpet. She all but hangs up on him and Sam’s life comes apart a little more. Dean hands him a pistol and says one of those cowboy lines he loves so well, “This whole gig? It ain’t without perks.” Then, in a fangirl, squee-worthy moment, Sam takes the gun and raises the waist of his hoodie to tuck the gun inside the back of pants. Yeah, I get an eyeful of boxer porn, and my appreciation for Sam goes up a notch.

The plot ignores my flash of passion and rumbles on; I have to pay attention or I lose my way, it’s just that twisty. Down in the sewer, the boys find the shape shifter’s nest, which, oddly, no city worker has heretofore encountered. How could they have missed piles of clothes, trails of goo, and coils of rope? Anyway, the fun really starts when the shape shifter shows up and whacks Dean on the arm. (His left arm, now remember that.) Dean groans in that way he does when whumpage has occurred (he’s always so matter of fact about it), and off they go to chase the shape shifter. This takes them above ground, and the boys break a cardinal rule: they separate. C’mon guys. If you chase something that could become you at a drop of a hat, wouldn’t you be somewhat loath to let your brother out of your sight?

But, I’m distracted by this because the screen shows me something interesting. Dean and Sam race through the town’s square, guns ready and loaded for bear. Dean is spotted carrying his gun. People comment and point as he goes past. He’s in a lather and looks pretty wild; the gun is visible and scares people. Contrast this with Sam, who is also in a lather, his hair in lovely spikes and curls, but who tucks his gun inside his hoodie. He seems to float through the crowd like he’s invisible. Remember earlier when Dean says they should lie, but it’s Sam who does the lying? Dean has his gun out, in the open; Sam is hiding his. See? It’s a metaphor.

The boys meet up, having lost the shape shifter. Dean has one of those freaky eye flares, and Sam all-too-quickly realizes that the shape shifter is not his brother. Sam’s test of having the shape shifter catch the keys to the Impala with his left hand is revealing, but what I don’t understand is how did Sam know to test him in the first place? Seconds later, however, when the shape shifter takes Sam out with a tire iron, I am sure it’s the shape shifter and not Dean.

And, joy of joys, in the very next scene, Sam is tied up, and I arrive blissfully, to the point in the episode, that is, well, the point. Ask most fans what this episode is about, and they will tell you something along the following lines: “This is the episode where a shape shifter, posing as Dean, smacks Sam around, ties him up, and then confesses to Sam Dean’s innermost secrets.” This succinct description is inevitably followed up by the quote of all quotes, which reveals all that Dean thinks about himself, “Me, I know I’m a freak and sooner or later everybody’s going to leave me.” Some fans would be concentrating on Sam tied up with the rope around his neck so hard that he almost can’t breathe, that kind of stuff. But for me, what is most erotic is the shape shifter (who is becoming Dean as fast as it can) revealing Dean’s inner workings, and I, a dyed-in-the-wool Dean girl (who also appreciates a good, tall dose of Sammy Boy) am all, and I mean ALL ears. Sam might reveal more skin (such as in Hell House), but when Dean exposes his inner soul, it’s as if he were naked from head to toe.

The shape shifter Dean tells Sam that his brother has issues with him. Then shape shifter Dean tells Sam that he is jealous, that he fears being alone, and that he had dreams of his own that he had to give up, unlike Sam. He rants about doing everything that Dad wanted, but that Dad left him too. Poof! It’s a great scene and is almost (almost!) better than nudity, because it reveals so much that I just know that Dean would rather not have revealed and especially not to Sam, who he protects from everything, including himself. Then shape shifter Dean covers Sam with a canvas and goes off to get himself some at Becca’s.

While shape shifter Dean is with Becca, I’m not sure what Jensen Ackles does to play the shape shifter and set it off from Dean, but it’s almighty cool. The camera angles and lighting help, but there’s not much of a makeup change, so I can’t tell how he does it. When he’s Dean, his brow is furrowed in boyish concentration, his lips seem full, lush, and the lines of his jaw and nose are sharp and angled. As shape shifter Dean, the reverse is true; his face is all bumps and bland hills. My eyes tell me it’s a simple turn of the head for Mr. Ackles, but I know it has to be more than that. Shape shifter Dean’s face is wide and smooth, as if it had no personality of its own, whereas Dean is a study in contrasts of texture. I want to lick the stubble from Dean’s chin, but shape shifter Dean’s chin repulses me, and yet, it’s the same face. And that is why I am not an actor and Jensen Ackles is.

Back to the plot. Shape shifter Dean hits on Becca; she tells him to go. Shape shifter Dean becomes aggressive, tears the phone out of the wall, and trips Becca so she falls. I am somewhat uncomfortable with this scene, because the creature looks like Dean (who I think would be sexy even if he were just thumbing through a phone book, during which, of course, he would be licking his thumb every now and then), but it’s not Dean. Also, because aggression towards women is so prevalent on TV, I should not be getting twitchy when he straddles her and ties up her hands. I also get the feeling that Mr. Ackles isn’t comfortable with this scene either because the character he’s playing, the aggressor, should not be asking the victim to give him her arms so that he can more easily tie her up. I think it’s a slip myself, and a telling one, where actor and character collide.

This scene flows into a repeat of the opening scene with two differences. First, In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida is not playing, and I know I am seeing shape shifter Dean and not Dean. (Why does Becca have a bandage on her head, though, did shape shifter Dean put it there?) Enter the Feds, and out the window goes shape shifter Dean, escaping into the sewers where he starts stripping. I sigh at the sight of oh-so-rare Deanskin, which I’m sure Kripke limits to keep it desirable. This becomes a grossfest as shape shifter Dean rips and tears at himself, leaving behind goo, changing one skin for another.

Meanwhile, Sam wriggles free from his canvas, and discovers that Brother Dean is also tied up. It’s a red-letter day! Two Winchesters tied up at the same time! (For a little blooper, keep your eye on Dean, whose canvas falls off him, goes back on him, and then falls off again.) The Winchesters, gritty and sweaty, just the way I like ‘em, free themselves. They tear across town to their weapons cache in the Impala, and discover that Dean is a wanted man, but Dean, being Dean, is more concerned that the wanted poster doesn’t do him justice. Finally, as they near Becca’s house, the police spot them, Sam poses as bait, and Dean makes a sexy, sweat-stained getaway over a tall fence. (Watch this scene in slo-mo. His expression is so grim and man-on-the-run, if I wasn’t in dire love with him before now, guh.)

Dean goes after shape shifter Dean, finds the real Becca, and they hightail it back to Becca’s house, because that is where Sam and Dean planned to meet. (But if only the day before Becca had been tied up and beaten by shape shifter Dean, what was she doing walking home by herself, let alone being out of the hospital? It could be that more time has passed than I realize, but it seemed like one scene flowed into the next and covered a period of only a day or so, and not long enough for her to recover.)

Back at Becca’s (told you it was a twisty plot), shape shifter Dean plans to kill Sam so that Dean will be accused of his murder and will be wanted, a man on the run forever. Shape shifter Dean tells Sam, “Your brother’s got a lot of good qualities; you should appreciate him more than you do.” And then, more joy, there’s a boy fight! And the boys, how they can fight! They use everything from Jujitsu to Errol Flynn, and just watch Sam fly into that bookcase! Whumpage and limpage ensue! Sam, who has a longer reach and more torque, cannot seem to outmaneuver his craftier brother and soon Sam is in a favorite position, on the floor, having the breath choked out of him, and then smashed in the face repeatedly. Then, ta-da, enter Brother Dean who kills shape shifter Dean with silvery bullets to the heart, and shape shifter Dean flies to wham against the wall. Dean approaches, and in true clich� fashion (though no one can make a clich� work like Kripke), yanks his own necklace from the shape shifter’s neck. He looks at it. The camera, who loves him, gazes long at his sweat-stained, grimy face. And waits. Waits for the music to swell, when those eyes, those amazingly hot eyes, open wide to look at Brother Sam.

In the d�nouement, Becca expresses her surprise at all the cool things the brothers do. She asks if Jessica ever knew the truth and Sam reveals that he lied to her and everyone else. (If you can’t be honest with the one you love and are planning to marry, why bother?) Later, as the boys drive off, Dean apologizes for something that is not his fault, and that is that Sam didn’t have a normal life. Of course, Sam had more normal life than Dean ever did, so why on earth is Dean apologizing for something he had no control over? He’s doing it because he loves Sam, and it kills him to see Sam unhappy.

Me? I just like watching Dean’s mouth move as he apologizes.

Sylvia Bond is a ten-year technical writing veteran with too many degrees under her belt to count. She lives in Colorado, but does not ski, preferring instead to spend her money and time at the annual Great American Beer Festival, taking road trips across the United States, and reading historical fiction from the comfort of her fluffy green arm chair. She has been involved in fandom since 1993 and been writing fanfic since approximately 1993. What she finds most amazing about fandom (besides the open heartedness of fans and the sheer amount of creativity) is how visible fandom has become. “In my day,” she says, “we had to hide behind P.O. boxes to get fanfic. But nowadays, people wear t-shirts that shout their affiliation and share their shiny toys on the internet.” It’s a wonderful world.

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