Supernatural: Fresh Blood

Box Wrenches and Coleman Coolers, Christmas Comes Early
by Sylvia Bond
Season 3 – Episode 7
“Fresh Blood”

Show gave me an early Christmas present this year and this ep was it. The last time I made so many noises and cowered, it was last season, my friends. I had my hands over my mouth half the time, and the other half of the time, I was blinking away surges of emo that shouldn’t otta be spent on a mere television show. (Mere, she says. Mere!) Color me geeky, color me fannish, color me oh-so-absorbed, but this True Fan is finally able to give a Roger Ebert-style “thumbs up!” Not that I’m comparing this ep with any other, but, well, let’s just say my wish list from last week was fulfilled and then some.

Plotwise, fun. Bella and Gordon meet, and never did I ever see that coming. He threatens her, she undermines him, they make a deal, Bella sells the boys out, and both characters go away happy. I always knew Bella had a bit of the Judas in her, and I so wanted Gordon to shoot her, just shoot her! Meanwhile the boys are on the trail of someone who is making vampires, like, instantly, out of local blondes. They capture one of the newly made vampires, but sadly, she must go, and it is Dean who lops her head of with a satisfying slice.

Enter Gordon, hot on Sam’s trail, because not only is Sam not human, he is a danger to the human race. I gotta say this for Gordon, although he’s a mean bad guy, at least his motives are pure. He really believes that Sam is the anti-Christ, and that what he is doing is right and will save humanity. He finds the same vampire nest that Sam and Dean are looking for, and invites himself in. Sadly, the head vampire thinks it would be a good idea to turn Gordon instead of giving him tea and cookies, and this he does, creating a marvelous conundrum for Gordon, who becomes what he hunts. Hunting vampires is pretty much all Gordon does, see, and now, well, the irony isn’t lost on me, nor, I’m glad to say, on Gordon. (I’d hate to have him turn stupid at this late date.)

Gordon goes to his friend, the Jesus Guy, and asks for help. Jesus Guy refuses, and Gordon, getting all emo, jabs his hand into Jesus Guy’s chest, and holds him to his bosom while said friend dies. Then Gordon goes after Sam. He manages to separate Sam from Dean (setting Vampire Girl on Dean, for a lovely bite to eat), and in the red-limned darkness of an abandoned warehouse, Sam and he duke it out. Or rather, slice it out, slam it out, bash it out, and finally, rip-his-head-off out. Oh, Sam!

It ends with Dean fixing the car by the side of the road while Sam hands out beers and settles his attractive behind on a mid-sized Coleman cooler. One of the old-fashioned green kind, the kind you used to could sit on. Looks like the boys are on the road again, and I am itching to thumb a ride.

Plot. All good, but not, I’m glad to say, all that this week’s ep was about. Like I said, my list of things came back with a vengeance. I hardly know what to say. It was embarrassing to have all of my needs met like this. I felt grabby as each thing I missed was handed back to me by Kripke, and I could almost hear him say, with a mad twinkle in his eye, “There you go. Aw, c’mon. You didn’t think I was going to keep them from you forever, did you? Hell, I was just teasing!” Teasing like that I do not need. It’s going to give me an ulcer one day.

[nms:CW Supernatural,2,0]

The first scene with the boys is in a grotty alley, flashlights bobbing as they try not to step in pools of fresh blood. Does it get any better than this? Dig Sam. He’s got one of those open-necked collars and you can see his white t-shirt peeking out. I’m a sucker for that, you know. Plus it’s dark, the lighting is moody, the music is moody, and you know that alley smells bad. This is the environment I’m used to seeing the boys in. It’s like they were born for it. Only that’s not fair, is it, because they deserve the normal lives they long for, only they ain’t never going to get it. Meanwhile, I hard-heartedly enjoy them living on the fringes.

Dean searches for the vampire he knows is there and the intensity of Dean’s gaze in hunting mode winds my clock. Then he takes out his machete (also sorely missed) and slices his arm open. (He’s trying to draw out the vampire with fresh blood, see.) Then he says, and I quote, “Smell that? Come and get it? I smell good, don’t I? I taste even better.” (I do enjoy Dean’s wince and “ow” of pain, sicko that I am.)

My fangirl squee is loud, and I cannot believe he just said that. He did just say that, didn’t he? Oh, man. The little flicker of fear in his eyes (Yeah, I saw it. Did you?) only adds to the nuances of Jensen Ackle’s performance, and I’m certainly glad he’s got this scene to put his acting chops around, cause I sure do like the thought of getting my…um, wait a minute. Let’s just say there’s something satisfying about watching Dean go toe-to-toe with a vampire, brawn and brains together drawing her in, being, as he says “chum in the water,” to make her loose her mind and throw herself at him. “C’mon,” he says in his best Michael-Keaton-I’m-Batman voice, as injects her with dead man’s blood, and down she goes.

Enter Sam, who protests the close shave there, Deano. And Deano? He smirks and swaggers and exudes devil-may-care pheromones, but you know Sam is pissed off with the chances Dean is taking. Has taken. Has been taking. The only thing I’m missing (and that’s because I’m greedy) is the almost-requisite humor of a man fainting after he looses blood. That, or Sam tsk tsking over the cut and insisting on Neosporin and a bandage on it. Not right then and there, of course. Back at the natty motel.

Which is squat. At least I think it is a squat because who would charge, let alone pay, for a room like this? First, they are old mattresses along the walls, and lord knows how many dust mite carcasses are in there, let alone the dried pee and other bodily fluids. Urg. Suffice to say, those mattresses aren’t fresh, if you get what I’m saying, and I count about five, so the smell is musty at best. Add the old linoleum, and what is surely lead-based paint on the walls, and I’d say they’re staying at the right place. Second, the whole old, unsheeted mattress visual brings up the memories of All Hell Breaks Loose, Part I, wherein Sam lay dead on an old, unsheeted mattress. Is there something symbolic going on here with the repetition of this visual?

Anyway, enough of that. Sam and Dean interrogate Vampire Chick. She’s tied in a chair, full of dead man’s blood so she’s no threat to them. Not that they couldn’t handle her. She’s a newbie vampire, confused by everything. (The bloodstains on her chin keep moving around. This distracts me, and not in a good way.)

The boys question her, each in their own inimitable style. Sam with Samhair flying, Dean with those laser-beam eyes of his. It’s not going to be pretty. Not only is Vampire Chick heavily boobed, there’s that bloodstain, and some pretty ugly fangs. What happened to the slick fangs from before? Oh, wait. I’m not here to make comparisons. I’m only here to get what I want. (Still greedy after all that Kripke has given me. I’ll never get to heaven this way.)

There’s a kind of a glow to Sam’s face this season, and it shows up in this scene particularly well. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be an internal light, like a subliminal signal that we are gazing upon something divine, or whether it’s the second lighting guy who has this secret crush on me, but he’s very shy and this is the only way he can express his affection.

Either way, Sam’s an eyeful here, and an earful as well, as he talks to Vampire Chick in soft tones that if she tells them what happened, they’ll let her go. He’s lying of course, and Dean knows that, and I know that, but the Vampire Chick does not. Dean’s face, by comparison, is back-lit, almost as if we’re not supposed to know what’s going on inside of him. That or the first lighting guy has figured out that the second lighting guy is flirting with me and has decided to make his point about how jealous he is.

As to Vampire Chick, there’s nothing that can save her. While she goes on and on about her complaints, Sam gives me several small but sweet eye rolls. He almost seems sorry too, but then, at the same time, he’s not sorry. Vampire Chick hurt his Dean (she only grazed him, but there is that slice on Dean’s arm to account for) and she must go. When Dean says they don’t have any choice, Sam has nary a protestation. As Dean whacks off her head (off screen), Sam looks like it pains him deeply, but something in his eyes tells me he’s becoming inured to the violence of their lives.

The next cool scene is outside a bar called Spider. Show gives me more moody lighting and grotty alleys than I ever dreamed of. Show gives me the boys outside at night. Rescuing damsels in distress, fighting bad guys. Dean gets Thrown. Could I ask for more? Oh, wait. Show reads my mind. The boys race after the bad guy and are beset upon by a hail of bullets that block out the streetlamps. Never mind that the flying glass from windows of shot out cars looks like a hail of wedding confetti coming down. Never mind that it’s Gordon and Jesus Guy shooting them, the boys are on the run. Oh, the desperation, the adrenaline, the pure, unmitigated glory of it all! Show loves me! Of this I am convinced.

Then Dean goes c-r-a-z-y. He does the noble thing, he draws their fire so that Sammy can run away. Sam protests, but it’s too little, too late. Oh, Dean. Your spider-man stunt up the side of that parking garage is way cool and all, but don’t you think you shouldn’t have left your baby brother like that?

Back at the squat. Oh yeah. I’m rubbing my hands because I can feel it coming. The showdown. Sam checks his watch and he almost never does that. He’s waiting for Dean, and the anger just roils off him. (It’s at this point that I notice the first mirror. It’s slanted and not in the this-is-TV-so-we-have-to-make-sure-the-camera-doesn’t-show-up-in-it way, but in another way. One that I can’t quite figure out.) Enter Dean, cocky and brash, having stopped off for pizza, and oozing swagger that doesn’t quite make up for the late hour, young man.

Dean calls Bella, having figured out that she’s the reason Gordon found them. The woman is talking on her cell phone while driving, and if I didn’t like her before…well, she’s not too bad this ep, but that’s mostly because she’s taking up a modicum of screen time. As it should be. More time for Dean to try and avoid the subject. More time for Sam’s Speech. And Dean’s “listen to my voice and tell me if I’m serious” speech as he threatens to kill Bella the next time they see her. Yeah, Dean! (My whole body shivered at his tone when he threatened her.)

We see knife sharpening. Machete sharpening actually, with Dean’s hands holding a very large blade. We see Sam cleaning a gun, which shocked the heck out of me! (But I enjoyed it, nonetheless, because I enjoy watching a man who can put his hands to good use.) They discuss that they need to find this other vampire as well as Gordon. Dean tells Sam that they have to get rid of Gordon and Sam agrees. This surprises Dean, and he mocks Baby Brother in a way that makes me laugh, but Sam doesn’t rise to the bait. Yep, he’s inured alright. To killing people, least of which, to the violence as well, and, sadly, to Dean’s banter.

Scene is interrupted by a phone call from Hermoine, I mean, Bella, who tells Dean exactly where Gordon is. She doesn’t want to be on Dean’s bad side, but I certainly hope that Ron, I mean, Dean, won’t let the fact that she helped them influence his earlier promise about killing her. Meanwhile, Harry, I mean, Sam, looks on in wonderment.

Factory. Interior. Night. Gordon is tied up. He gets free. Goes crazy. Rips the heads off fellow vampires-in-training. The shape of things to come.

Same factory. Interior. Night. Boys enter, flashlights bobbing. They are hot on Gordon’s trail, but instead meet up with the Vampire King (this is the guy who has been trying to build up his nest) who is mourning the loss of his family. Scene starts off COOL as Dean picks up a knife from a table and flicks it into position with a swish. Oooh, I’m beginning to think that the sound guy has got a crush on me too.

Vampire King does not care if they kill him and he sings his song of woe, crocodile tears streaming down his face. He’s lost everything and everyone and doesn’t care if he dies. Right now. And he wants to know if they can understand that, if Dean can understand how that feels? Ever felt desperate? Staring down eternity alone? Can you think of a worse hell? Do you know what that’s like when you just don’t give a damn? It’s like being dead already. Yeah, buddy, Dean knows. And Sam knows that Dean knows. And Dean knows that Sam knows that he knows, and oh boy! The monkey is out of the cage now!

Then Sam discovers that the dead vampires hanging from the ceiling had their heads ripped off, not cut off, the boys realize that not only is Gordon dangerous, he’s vampire-dangerous, and while they might be more justified than before in offing him, now they are faced with new and additional dangers. I love Show when it does this, when it ratchets up the stakes like we was in Vegas or something. How much you wanna bet the monkey climbs the walls screaming?

Interior squat. Day. Sam is studying maps. I think this calms him down, cause he looks like he’s glowering. Meanwhile, Dean enters having searched a bunch of motels and stuff for Gordon. First cool thing. Dean washes his face in front of a slanted mirror. What’s up with these mirrors? Is this one just coming off the wall or is there some deeper symbology here? Or am I just reading way too much into it? Anyway, the bathroom is funny to me, the door is wide open, like it never could close, or there is no door, and my mind wanders, watching Dean. How do they take showers or use the other facilities? The grout is grotty and there’s no door. It’s skanky alright. (There’s a blow dryer hanging from a hook, and I wanna know who uses it!)

Second cool thing. Sam determines that Gordon can trace them through their cell phones. I love watching Sam fiddle with technology. He takes out those little thingys in the back of each of their cell phones. As if this wasn’t enough he STOMPS them. He does not want them to be found.

Then Deano decides that he will go after turbo-charged Gordon. He’s gonna load and take the Colt. He’s a one-man band. He’s gonna save the day. Dean’s got a lot to say that’s sarcastic and banterish. He wants Sam to stay out of harm’s way, and Sam protests that Dean’s gonna get himself killed. Dean replies, “Just another day at the office.” (“Sweetheart.” Even when he doesn’t say it, he does.)

Sam on the other hand is sick and tired of Dean’s kamikaze tricks. Dean corrects this, because he’s a ninja, not a kamikaze. Dean wants his banter to be funny, but it’s not. Not to me, cause I know better, and certainly not to Sam.

Then, oh, bliss of bliss, it comes. The fat lady sings, the monkeys howl, and the eagle lands. Sam’s Speech has arrived. Sam tells Dean that Dean is afraid and Dean says that Sam doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Sam says, yeah, he does know, and it goes from there.

You really have to see this scene to understand how good it is, because the only way to describe it is by calling it by its true name: Love. Love of the best kind, where with his voice and eyes alone, Sam tears down the walls that Dean has erected. He tells Dean he knows him so well, has watched him, looked up to him, wanted to be him, studied him every day for years that he knows what fear looks like when it shows up on Dean’s face. The love between siblings can weather any storm, and here Show gives me this as the music, lovely, sad piano cords, lulls me under into the arms of something so sacred, so blissfully quiet and still, so pure, so angelwing pure, that it melts me. I am a puddle on the couch, my woobie clutched to my mouth to stifle my whimpers and, I’ll admit it to you, but only to you, my eyes welled up.

Then Dean capitulates. He demurs to Sam’s request with an expression that says, “Is this what you want?” (Dean could never deny Sam anything.) This moment, with the soft piano beneath it, perfectly capturing the second when Dean changes his mind, breaks my heart. Right in two. They do what Sam wants. They hole up in that room, moving ratty box springs against the door, lighting smudges (which might be sage), getting their machetes ready, and all the while those goshdarn SAD piano cords continue like mournful heartbeats, and they wait. Yeah, Dean is a little funny as he tries to shave off his arm hairs with his machete (he’s bored), but my heart is not lightened, and not just because the room is so dark. Show is winding me tight, and I am wound, which is why I jump when the phone rings.

It’s Gordon. He’s got a victim on the line and if Sam and Dean don’t come quick, he’s gonna off her. This pulls Sam and Dean out of the safety of the squat and into the night. I love the fact that Gordon’s hands are still stained with blood. I love the fact that the expression on Dean’s face changes the second he hears the whimpers of Gordon’s victim. I also love the fact that the boys go out with nary a thought for their own delicious skins.

Different factory. Interior. Night. It’s a nasty place, with rusty bits of who knows what everywhere, and the boys find the victim easily. This alone should tell them it’s a trap, but hey, that’s never stopped them before. In fact, that it’s a trap usually seems to egg them on, guns ablazin’. In this instance, Dean sweeps the girl up off her feet and into his arms (making me sigh), snaps at Sam to stay close (which he should never say to anyone else, ever again), and then is separated from Sam by a factory door slamming down. While this has a Batman-style plot device feel to it, I am, nevertheless, pleased that the boys didn’t separate on purpose. It’s Gordon’s doing, cause all he wants is to kill Sam, and then himself, cause he’s a Noble Monster, and that’s what they do.

I enjoy the fits of pique that the brothers express at the door slamming down between them, but it’s interesting to watch Sam on his own. Once brother Dean is not around, Sam arches his neck and you can see the Little Brother skin slide right off him. He’s a hunter, trained since birth, and I’d say, at this point, that Gordon had better watch out. Sam’s been on slow steam the entire ep, and he is ready to kick some ass and take down names.

[nms:CW Supernatural,3,0]

Then the lights go out and we get to see Sam through the Gordon-cam, which is rimmed with red and hungry. Sam looks deliciously vulnerable, working his way blindly through Gordon’s hell, holding his knife where it will be the most useful. Gordon might not be playing around, but neither is Sam. I am, at this point, freaked out as I have seldom been all season. It’s not that I’m worried, cause I know who’s gonna win, it’s the how of the thing and the incredible tension that the dark evokes in me.

Meanwhile, in the short seconds after Gordon admits what he did to his victim, we see Dean hammering away at the locks on the door. Not going to do you any good, Deano, and, oh shit. Look OUT! Too late. The victim is now a vampire and she jumps Dean, (something I’ve been wanting to do for the last six months). I shriek! I’m sure the neighbors think I’m being attacked, so I stifle my sounds with my woobie. Then Dean calmly shoots her with the Colt and I feel foolish. He pants, the gun smokes, and I shake my head. Oh, Dean, you are full of surprises, aren’t you.

Back to the Gordon-cam. Gordon is being nasty piss Sam off, but Sam is impervious to it. I know he is. He’s much better than Dean at turning emotions off and then on, doing this when it is most useful to him. I’m not dissing Sam, you understand, just being completely aware of how much untapped power there is in that long, tall, drink of water. Gordon and Sam fight. Sam is thrown and choked, and it’s fun for me, but there’s a darkness that’s making me uncomfortable. Sam’s not a killer. Or at least he wasn’t. Here, he’s going fist to cuff with Gordon who is, or was, until very recently, human. In spite of Sam’s soft spot for killing anything human, Gordon’s gonna get it. I can feel it.

Dean enters the scene, and Gordon knocks Sam down and goes for Big Brother, who he bites on the neck. While Sam protests, I am shrieking, and there might be someone pounding on my front door at the noise, but I ignore this, because if Kripke is going to turn Dean into a vampire, I am going to set myself on fire. Seriously. Tatoo and all, up in smoke. I mean it.

Up comes Sam from the floor like some suddenly animated thing made of nothing but the intent to save Dean. With a fierce whack to the back of his neck, Sam distracts Gordon from turning Dean into you-know-what, and then another fight ensues of the Whump Sam variety. I’m wincing as Gordon gives Sam’s head several hard knocks against a table, and then, when Sam throws him off and picks up that razor wire. My mouth hangs open.

Sam wraps the razor wire around Gordon’s neck, and you’d have to see it to believe it, because I saw it and I couldn’t believe it. Only, I do. I do believe it, because I believe that Sam is reaching deep inside of him for the darkness within, because only dark can best dark, although the fact that the light can also best the dark is something Sam has, for the moment, forgotten.

He wraps that wire around Gordon’s neck and then he pulls. Slowly, oh, so slowly, while the blood spurts out of Gordon’s neck and the expression on Sam’s face becomes solidified into anger and vengeance. Gordon’s head flies off, Sam grimaces through the blood pouring from his nose, and the job is done. It is done. With these hands. With these once lily-white hands. Sam’s hands are dripping and I want to barf, I really do. Those hands will need stitches.

Looking rather like he’s just lost his shoe, Sam gazes at Dean, who is bitten but unharmed. The quirk of Sam’s brow asks, “Hey, I just, like, killed this guy with my bare hands and stuff, but do you still love me even though I’m a freak?” Dean’s unspoken answer: “Yes, I will always love you, come what may,” though he’s going to be giving Sam grief over his those Hands of Doom Sam’s got. Dean’s clutching his bleeding neck, reminding me how erotic and damn hot he looked while getting bitten. I shouldn’t be thinking about that just now, not with those poignant piano cords rising and falling beneath the dialog, but I am.

Here’s the tie-up. Dean and Sam by the roadside. Sam’s handing out beers, flipping bottle caps, and planting his bejeaned backside on top of the cooler. Dean is bent over the engine of his beloved car, and asks Sam for a box wrench. Sam, surprisingly, knows what that is and hands it over. Cool right? Nice little happy brothers-drinking-beer scene, right?

Wrong. What follows is so sad, so heart-wrenchingly quiet, I am perfectly silent. No sound escapes me. I watch Dean pause, pull back from the engine, and then ask Sam to help him. Why? Because Sam needs to know how to fix the Impala. Because in the future, the future where there will be no Dean, someone needs to look after the Impala. While I would like the humor of having Dean pretend it’s the car he’s worried about (cause that would lighten this unbearably heavy load), I know that for Dean, the car comes second to Sam. Dean wants to make sure that Sam will never be without the finest well-tuned set of wheels to ever come off an assembly line to get Sam out of trouble when he needs it. He wants to make sure that Sam is going to okay. Without him.

Sam takes the socket wrench, and beneath his hesitation and Dean’s “I’ll always look out for you” grin, the sounds Bad Company rise. I don’t know what song it is, even though I should. I’m a True Fan after all. I just know that this is right, right right, and two ginormous tears roll down my face. My cup runneth over. Be ever dark, Show, be ever dark.

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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