Supernatural: Something Wicked

Something Wee: An Army of Son by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Season 1 – Episode 18

This episode is one of my all time favorite Supernatural episodes. I have been looking forward to reviewing it for, like, ever, looking forward to having a whole lot of fun. Except I didn’t have fun because this episode makes me mad every time I watch it. It’s still one of my favorite episodes, and there are lots of reasons for that. But first, let me give you the plot, so it’s easier to explain where we are when things, both maddening and yummy, happen. This episode is about the Winchester’s two run-ins with a shtriga. The first run-in happened 16 years ago and gives us some cool flashbacks. The second run-in occurs during the present day. This being Kripke’s baby, the two storylines are woven together as tight as a basket made of sweetgrass. To begin, Dad has delivered coordinates on where the boys should go to find the MOW, and this leads them to where the shtriga is doing its nasty business, attacking little children. Shtriga attacks are the stuff of nightmares, real nightmares, and they begin by a long, spidery branch turning into a long spidery hand that is coming for you. Do not watch this episode in the dark or if you are feeling the least bit vulnerable. The long-fingered, dark-robed thing opens your window and comes into your room, and you can’t pull the covers over your head far enough or fast enough to escape it. You will never have enough blanket for this. Any parent hearing their children’s complaints about being scared dismisses them, even though they went through the same thing when they were kids. Thus, since nobody believed in it, the shtriga has been able to exist without interruption for, like, ever.

The thing sucks the life force out of the kids, inducing what looks and behaves like your garden-variety bacterial pneumonia (there’s a garden variety?), so the children go into the hospital. Enter Dean and Sam, who with their usual dither, quickly figure out that Dr. Heidecker (the only pediatrician for miles) is the shtriga in disguise. They devise a plan, trap the MOW, and then blast the thing to smithereens. Good? Well, that’s the plot, but that’s not what this episode is about. Instead, this episode is about so much more, so I’m going to deal with each issue in the order in which they occurr to me, or appear on screen, or whatever.

First up in occurrence (and maybe importance) is Dean’s mouth. This is such a Dean-centric episode, it’s as if the camera can find no other focus than him, his face, and that rosy, cupid’s bow. His skin is luminescent throughout, and his hair is as soft and touchable as a well-loved teddy bear. I don’t know if it’s how Dean is talking, or when those lips quiver, or just when he licks them, but I’m all attention, and feeling foolish because such a small thing can give me such joy.

There’re so many great Deanmouth moments, but here are just two in reverse order. (I don’t want to bore anyone, but watch the whole ep, you won’t be sorry) First, towards the end of the ep, Dean is talking to Michael. (Michael’s brother Asher has been sucked dry by the shtriga, and Dean and Sam want to use Michael as bait.) Michael expresses his reservations, and Dean, sitting companionably on Michael’s bed, says, “You don’t have to, it’s okay, I won’t be mad.” It’s hard to explain why this sentence gets to me. Perhaps it’s the breathy way Dean says the word “you,” which comes across so soft, it suggests an intimacy, and in its quietness pulls me towards him. Or perhaps it’s the way he says, “I won’t be mad,” cause when Dean says he won’t be mad at you, he means it. This kind of conversation further demonstrates his ability to relate to kids, cause you know he’s just a big kid anyway. (This scene makes me want to have his baby.)

Second Deanmouth moment is the sweet smile Dean gives Sam at the beginning of the episode. Sam and Dean have an argument about who gets to decide whether this is their sort of gig or not. They dither, and Dean asserts that because he’s the oldest, he gets to decide. Sam retorts that it does not. (Their respective ages now revert to 10 and 6.) Dean says, “Oh, yeah, it totally does.” And then, argument won (in his mind), Dean turns his concentration on the driving, and his lips curl up in a smile. There’s a little dimple (or is it a dent?) there at the corner of his mouth, and I just want to lick it. It’s my favorite smile of his and makes me all wiggly inside. (My DVD is worn at this spot.) Oh yeah, Dean can smile a lot of ways, leer, grin, blow bubbles, and I’m there. But this smile? Did I mention I want to have his baby?

[nms:CW Supernatural,3,0]

The second issue in this ep is a little larger (but not any sweeter) than Dean’s mouth, and that is the relationship between the brothers. Of course, this being Supernatural, that’s a given, but in this ep, the whole concept of Big Brother, Little Brother receives an under-the-microscope examination. The episode opens with them discussing who is which, and what that title entitles them to. Being Big Brother entitles Dean to be in charge, which he asserts that he always is, and being Little Brother entitles Sam to whine. Which he does with those mighty lungs of his. Stuff like, Dad’s coordinates suck, there’s nothing there, Dean, why are we doing this, waaaaaaaah! (It just makes me want to whap him with a spoon!) They argue and drive like an old married couple and you know that within five miles, they’ve not only left some stretch of road behind them, they’ve left the argument as well. At least for the moment.

There’s another scene that further demonstrates the love between the brothers. This is the one where Dean is talking to Michael outside the motel where the boys are staying. (Be sure to watch Dean and Sam walk towards Michael as he’s sitting there. Yeah. Watch it in slow-motion. There’s some great man-thigh action there. Except Dean, he’s got his half covered up, dangit.)

Dean asks what’s wrong. Michael says that Asher is in the hospital and that it’s all his fault cause he left the window open. Michael wails that he should have taken better care of his Little Brother. Dean jumps on this (actually he hunkers down) and attempts to assure Michael that it’s not his fault, yadda yadda yadda. What’s cool about this scene is the look that Sam has on his face while he’s listening to all the yaddas. Sam, my beloved Sam, really comes through in this ep. Because when Dean is talking to Michael about Big Brothers and how they love their Little Brothers, Sam is not looking at Michael, he’s looking at Dean. (There are many examples of this throughout the ep.) And he’s not just looking at Dean, he’s watching him, in a way that tells me that he completely understands what he’s seeing and hearing. Cause he knows, see, that Dean is not talking about Michael and Asher, but rather, about himself and Dean. And Sam knows that what Dean is saying to Michael is what Dean, in his heart, is always saying to Sam. (Okay, I’ve put the spoon away now.)

Then at the end of the ep, Sam and Dean discuss that they wish they could have spared Michael from knowing the truth that there are nasty things out there and that nightmares are real. (They are both leaning on top of the roof of the Impala, which is all shiny and black, giving us some nice car porn.) Sam says, thinking about himself, “Yeah, sometimes I wish I could have that kind of innocence.” And Dean, thinking about Sam, replies, “Yeah, sometimes I wish you could, too.” And you know, you just know, that he blames himself that he wasn’t able to spare Sam this. Is there anything that Dean wouldn’t do for Sam? Is there anything he would rather not take the brunt of? No, I think not. Now that’s love. Oh, boys.

The last issue is the flashbacks, and I will confess to you that the first time it happened, I almost shrieked because there before my very eyes, the adorable image of Dean (with freckles, oooooooooooooooh!) melts into his younger self. Sam has poked at Dean about how come he knows so much about the shtriga, and why, if Dad knew about it, it’s still breathing air, and what exactly happened? Dean tells the story, the flashback happens, and thus we are presented with Wee Dean, who is about 10 years old, and Wee Sam, who is about six. These two little boys are commonly referred to in fandom as the Weechesters and this episode is known as the Weechester episode for this reason.

There are three flashbacks, and each one reveals something about the boys and their early lives to the point where I’m moved and, I’ll have to admit, angry. Worked up so that if I’m discussing this ep with anyone, I soon get very loud and my hand gestures come close to hitting someone in the eye. But that’s why this is such superior T.V, and why I prefer this show to any other, because it makes me think and, more important, it makes me feel things. You know, instead of going around in a work-induced coma of light pleasantries about crab grass or who won the damn game last weekend, I actually get to feel.

Okay, first flashback. Interior, day, crappy motel room, and there, bigger than life, is Papa (John) Winchester himself. He’s young, intense, and Heathcliffy, looking like he has warm skin and smells like English Leather. He’s packing for a hunt, snapping out instructions, going through the usual drill with Wee Dean like Dean’s his little soldier, his own army of son. Wee Dean seems uncomfortably comfortable with the whole “shoot first, ask questions later” concept, and is a bit bored with being told how to be responsible for Wee Sam for at least three days. (He says he’s done it a million times, and even if it’s just 10-year old exaggeration, that’s still a lot.) Then my jaw drops as Papa clicks the safety off the sawed-off shotgun and sets it within easy reach, propping it up in the corner. Does this make anyone as uncomfortable as it makes me? Sam, for his part, is coma boy, sitting in an easy chair, watching cartoons. (I’m assuming that it’s 1999, so it’s looks like reruns of Super Friends.) Thus endeth the first flashback and my hackles are standing straight up.

After I get over my initial shock, my ambivalence about Papa Winchester begins. Understanding that 22 years ago, his wife was killed by an evil force, and that he has, since then, been pursuing that evil and destroying evil when he encounters it, is one thing. I do understand what is driving his actions, though I’m hard pressed to like him dragging his kids behind him. Of course, he would feel (like any parent) that only he was qualified to protect his boys, so there was no other option for him but to keep them near. But what we see in the first flashback indicates that he’s not just keeping them near for safety reasons, he has them trained (or at least Dean, at this point) to be part of his quest for vengeance, leaving them alone with instructions about how to kill if something breaks in. At no point do we ever get the idea that Papa Winchester feels that what he’s doing is wrong, or that he’s loading too much responsibility on ten-year-old shoulders, or that perhaps there might be another way to go about laying his wife’s ghost to rest. And I ask myself (each time) whether I can justify his actions or whether I’m pissed off enough to throw yet something else at the T.V.

The second flashback contains what I like to refer to as The Lucky Charms Incident. Dean has heated up, on the stove no less, a pot of what Sammy refers to as “skabettios.” As Dean dishes this out, Sam wants to know when Dad is coming back. Dean says tomorrow. Sam wants to know when. Dean replies that it will be late and that Sam should eat his dinner. Then Sam starts in, as only a Little Brother can do. He doesn’t want the skabettios (even though he asked for them), he wants Lucky Charms. When Dean tries to explain there aren’t any, Sam insists that he can see the box. Then Dean attempts to explain that there’s not much Lucky Charms left and that he’s not had any yet. (Whether “yet” means that day or since the box has been opened cannot be ascertained.) But Sam, being only six, wants what he wants, and there’s nothing that Dean can do but give him the rest of the Lucky Charms. Sam, in an attempt to be generous, digs into the cereal box and holds his hand out and asks Dean if he wants the prize. (Doesn’t Sam know that for Dean, he is the prize?) The scene closes as Dean sighs, and the whole thing just kills me, especially when Dean just stands there, watching. It’s the set of his shoulders that gets to me, and the non-expression on his face, the damn resignation. What Sam wants, Sam gets.

Pillows always fly at the T.V at this point and I usually have to talk myself through why I’m so worked up, although I think the whole Lucky Charms Incident is very telling with regards as to how the boys interact with the world and each other. First, Sam is only six, and all the six-year olds I know are greedy so why not allow Sam this? Maybe it’s a survival instinct for them to want everything the way they do, I don’t know. Okay, so far so good. At the same time, Dean could have hated and resented Sam, stabbing him for the last of the cereal, yet we never see this. This gives rise to my opinion that the brotherly love Dean displays comes from within, strong enough to resist all the negativity and violence with which he was raised. An altruism so powerful I can see the wings and halo from here. Therein lies the problem.

When I look at these two brothers side by side (and what a delicious sight it is!), especially with regards to this episode, I can see the vast differences between them. Sam knows who he is, what he needs, what he thinks, and he acts on it. When he’s six, that means whining till he gets those Lucky Charms. When he’s 18, that means going to college in spite of his Dad, because college will give him the life he wants to live. As he grows, he develops more sophisticated tools to get his needs met. His loyalty to his family and his love for them, I cannot question, but Sam is looking out for number one. (At least at this point in the show.)

Dean, while being almost saintly in his altruism, has emotional needs that take up almost no space. He seems to be only able to meet the most basic, physical needs like sex, food, and sleep, yet lacks any clearly defined boundaries that might help him distinguish between his own needs and Sam’s. He decisions benefit others first, and his loyalty and his love for his family, which come before himself, demonstrates a self-denial and a lack of self-worth that show me he is looking out for anyone but number one.

I’m not a psychologist, but I can see it from here. There is no I in Dean, but there is in Sam-I-Am. Sam knows his own needs. This is healthy. Dean subsumes his needs to those of his brother. This is not healthy. It makes me shake my head and I worry about Dean as if he were real. Which he is, right?

Then we have the third flashback, and it’s the most intense of the three. Dean (as beautiful a man as I have ever seen) explains that that night, he was going crazy, so he goes out to play a some video games. But when Dean gets back, the shtriga is having a go at Sammy. As trained, Dean picks up the shotgun (while he’s doing this, my eye always catches on the bleach burn on the back of his jeans), and takes aim. The shtriga raises its head and howls, and Dean, being only little, hesitates. Bam, in comes Papa, howling, shouting at Dean to get down, and then blasts away at the thing. It’s not enough, the shtriga gets away, and Papa rushes to Sammy, pulling his littlest into his arms, and then, in a horrible voice, demands of Dean what happened. Dean, being the honest thing that he is, confesses that he went out. Then the hollering begins. (To me, any raised voice is hollering.) Papa’s eyes are dark with fury as he points out all the things that Dean did wrong, and then there is that glare. I think Dad fully expected that Dean should have pulled the trigger in time, and his anger and disgust at Dean always messes me up. And watching Dean watch his Dad pull Sam into his arms so tenderly, now, that breaks my heart. Dean wants some care too, and he’s not going to get it.

As the flashback ends, Sam, as he listens to this story, has moved from his position across the room to sitting right beside Big Brother. (Bless you, Sam.) The look on Sam’s face is as if he has swallowed something bad (on Dean’s behalf), and I can hardly blame him. Dean, for his part, looks so young and raw, as if the memory of what happened has sliced him open with a blade. I know how he feels because watching this ep does the same thing to me, especially if I’ve had a bad day. It’s not just the leaving two young boys alone in a motel that gets me, it’s the yelling (and the guns) that takes the scenario from neglect to abuse. Is it just me? Am I being too hard on Papa Winchester? All I can see is Wee Dean’s little face as it fades into present day Dean and that lost look in his eye and the glass-cracking sound in his voice as he explains to present day Sam that Dad looked at him different from that point on. And I get the feeling that ever since, Dean has been trying to get back into Dad’s good graces, and even though he has (surely, he has!), he doesn’t think he has. Sam, to his credit, later acknowledges that he now understands why Dean is always following Dad’s orders. Not only that, we hear Sam say unspoken, that it’s done Dean no good to try so hard, for a Papa doesn’t love, or shouldn’t love, one son more than the other.

Flashbacks over, I am a-quiver with righteous indignation on the Wee boys’ behalf, when Dean decides they need to kill the shtriga, and that they need to use Michael as bait. Say what? Where on earth did Dean get this idea, and why does he think that it’s the only viable solution? Sam objects and suggests that one of them be bait. But Dean is insistent, leading me to believe that at some point, he must have been used as bait by Papa Winchester. (Or he knew about some other kid being used as bait was because the idea comes far too easily to him for it not to have been familiar.) I cannot prove this, of course, and it’s not supported anywhere. But when I see this scene, I always think it. And it makes me angry.

After the whole “I won’t get mad” speech, the deal goes down, and Michael is safely under the bed when Dean shoots the shtriga. But, this being Supernatural, the shtriga gets up again and attacks Dean and throws him against the wall and goes for Sam. Upon whom he sucks out the life force until Dean, in a nicely circular ending, is able to shoot the shtriga right between the eyes. Ah, me. I can barely enjoy the whumpage and limpage at this point, cause I’m so worked up about how it all came about. Were Papa Winchester here, I would give him a piece of my mind! Were he here.

This episode doesn’t upset me every time I watch it, only when I’m feeling vulnerable, but that doesn’t stop me, cause there’s loads of cute stuff. Take, for example, the scene where Sam doesn’t want to use the I.D that Dean gave him because it says “bikini inspector” on it. Dean forces Sam to go forth and lie, and Sam, being Sam, can charm the pants off of anything, so it works. Still, his furious look in Dean’s direction is something to behold.

Or how about where Dean goes into the motel to get a room, and young Michael, watching the front desk, the smart alec asks the loaded question, “King or two queens?” Of course, what he’s asking is what type of bed is wanted, but the camera takes this and runs with it. First it focuses on Dean’s hesitation, then it goes to see Sam lingering suspiciously outside, then it goes back to Michael for a reaction shot. There’s no way Dean can answer this question and win. If he says “king,” then it means that he and that other fellow are sleeping together. So he says “Two queens,” which gives Michael enough ammo to shoot out a sarcastic and knowing “two queens,” to his mother, who comes in to take over the front desk. This leaves me howling at Dean’s consternation, cause he always wants to know why everyone thinks he’s gay. This is why, honey, I tell him, this is why.

Another scene that’s a lot of fun is where Dean talks about not shooting Dr. Heidecker, and this has to do with the fact that I didn’t understand what was going on the first time. Dean is pacing the room, answering Sam’s question about why he didn’t waste the doctor then and there, while he was at the hospital. Dean answers this with three Marine-boy answers (using evocative language such as “clip” and “wasted” and “principle,” pointing with his hand focused like a gun to indicate the angle at which he would have aimed), while wiping the back of his neck with a towel. As I watch, I’m like, why is he all sweaty? I feel stupid, because there’s something I’m missing. So I ask around. The answer comes back. “He’s just come back from the hospital, he doesn’t have a car, he ran all the way.” Oh. Jeeze. Well, that makes perfect sense, doesn’t it. Dean drove Mrs. Michael’s mother to the hospital, and without any other way to get back, he hoofs it. Leaving me to think that the boys never take cabs. And giving my fantasy-driven brain a whole lot more to ponder over. (Sweaty Dean, mmmmmmmmmm.)

Which brings me to my last tidbit, and that is this great where Dean finds out that the shtriga is the doctor. Sam is on the phone to Dean (who is at the hospital), and is talking him through what he’s been researching. The camera flips between the two brothers for reaction shots, and then, at the moment Sam reveals the reveal, the camera is on Dean. And it’s a lucky thing too, because we get to see some amazing acting. When Dean finds out the truth, Jensen Ackles doesn’t move a muscle on his face, but you see it just the same, the transition from “guy talking to his brother on the phone” to “stone cold killer.” Watch as Ackles pivots to the left; you just don’t want to see this guy coming at you, in a dark alley or anywhere else. I don’t know how Ackles does it, whether it’s the changing shadows on his face, or the utter stillness that settles over him. When Dean is actually talking to the doctor, I see the skin beneath Ackles’ right eye twitch, but other than that, nothing moves, nothing. Dean’s voice, however, with jerky stops and starts, gives Dean away as being really worked up (and proving once again that Sam is the better liar), but otherwise, it’s like watching a magician doing an amazing trick. And frankly, I don’t want to know how he does it, I just want to watch. Again, and again, and again. After all, this is one of my favorite episodes.

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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