Supernatural: Faith

Angels Among Us
by Sylvia Bond
Season 1 – Episode 12
“Faith”

Watching this ep makes me want to send chocolate-covered kisses to everyone, from the lighting guys (still fighting over me), to the makeup team, the props people, the team that designs the motel rooms, everyone. And oh, yeah, those actor guys. You know who you are. (And whoever made it rain and look oh-so-moody and atmospheric. Oh wait. That’s God.) This ep is just plain GOOD. It has brother relationship stuff, a creepy monster of the week, and is sad but in a good way. It is a quieter ep than normal, and a thought-provoking one, too. There was no Throwing of the Dean this week, and this was appropriate, given the circumstances.

Show starts off like I like it, filling me with bliss. The boys enter a creepy house like they were entering the local stop-n-sip. Their flashlights bob. Are those bleach stains on their jeans? Then I realize that the ep has started in medius res. The boys are already on a case, chasing a rawhead that’s been hurting people. Now, I don’t know what a rawhead is, but it’s got two kids cornered in what looks like an old pie safe. There’s some crisp action as Sam whisks the kids up the stairs (it’s always gratifying to see the boys rescue kids), while Dean stays behind.

He’s gonna electrocute the rawhead, which is the only way you can kill it. But wait! Dean is standing in water, and the rawhead is standing in water too, and guess what? Water conducts electricity, and when Dean shoots, down he goes, writhing as he is zapped into unconsciousness. Sam returns with a gasp and a shout that echoes my own, running to his brother’s side, as he should do, worry filling him. As it does me, because the plot has taken a horrible, real-life left turn. Didn’t see it coming, but then, I never do. Dean hurt? Say WHAT?

At the hospital, Sam’s hands fumble over fake Ids, fake credit cards. (He’s doing it for Dean, which is the only way he can get through it.) Plus, Sam’s anxious because the police want to talk to him. They look mean and Sam approaches them with trepidation. They ask, What happened? Sam uses his best I’m-just-some-random-and-harmless-guy voice to tell them. And surprise, surprise, the cops believe him. Not only that, they are grateful that the brothers happened to be driving by.

This is the first occurrence in this ep of what I like to call the Flip, where what I’m normally used to is turned upside down. Here, not only do the cops believe Sam, they are thankful for his help. Because normally at least one of the cops would have had a problem with Sam’s tone or not have believed him or something, and maybe someone would have been shoved against the wall. Maybe even handcuffed. Well, that’s usually what happens to Dean, but still.

The doctor delivers the bad news to Sam. His brother has had a heart attack and has maybe a month. Sam doesn’t believe him. Another Flip. Normally, Sam believes authority figures. But this time, the doctor is wrong, wrong, wrong, and Sam is gonna show him just how wrong. “We can’t work miracles,” the doctor says and the look on Sam’s face tells me just what Sam thinks of this yadda yadda. Watch me.

Sam visits Dean, who is pale, bruised around the eyes like he’s been smacked by a rough hand. You ever visit someone in a hospital like this? Where they could die? Then you know how Sam feels. There’s that smell, the odd stillness in the air, and the machines everywhere, with glowing dials that look like watching eyes. I don’t envy Sam atall as he stands at the end of that hospital bed, looking sweet as he’s trying not to cry. Because at this point, there’s nothing he can do, no way he can save his brother.

Dean complains about daytime TV, and Sam doesn’t laugh. Dean complains about the fabric softner bear and swears he’s going to kill it, and Sam doesn’t laugh. Nothing is funny to Sam, hard as Dean might try, because Sam’s far too upset to let him. I just adore a vulnerable Dean, it happens so rarely. He’s so wiped, looking like he’d much rather sleep than anything else. Flip. Usually he’s a powerhouse of determination, kicking in doors with those sexy legs of his, flinging himself over tops of garden walls, or running up stairs, smashing into the bad guys. To see him like unsettles me. Gentle Dean, normally hidden by wisecracks and bluff and bluster, is exposed.

[nms:CW Supernatural,3,0]

Dean says he’s bound to die. Sam swears that he’s going to save Dean. It’s a tough gig, Dean points out, and it was bound to happen some time. Another Flip. Normally it’s Dean railing against the winds of fortune as they howl around him, swearing that no one is going to die, not today, not on his watch, and if he had his way, probably not ever. Now it’s Sam going, uh-uh, I’m going to save you. Me. Little Brother. You go, Sam.

Sam back in the motel room. Around him is stuff about hearts and heart attacks. He’s been at it three days, trying to figure out what to do. Sam calls his Dad and leaves a message. This is like the time Dean called his Dad and left a message about their old house. But whereas Dean asks for help from Dad, Sam just says that Dean is sick and that Sam is going to do everything he can. And whether this is because Sam doesn’t think Dad’ll get back to him, won’t be able to help anyway, or whether this is Sam being independent and not needing help, I don’t know. It certainly is interesting the different ways the boys leave messages for their Dad.

Sam is lovely in this scene, really. I think I owe the wardrobe and makeup guy a kiss. Sam is in tattered blue jeans and that rough-edged sweater over a t-shirt, looking young and alone. He’s chewing on his nails, his hair doesn’t look like he’s washed it in days. His face looks like it’s hot and his eyes are glossy like he’s been crying not long since and might give in to it again, but he won’t, cause he’s gotta help Dean. Oh, Sam. Poor Sam. Never have I seen this boy so downhearted. It’s not a case that can be solved, or an object that can be destroyed to save the day. No, his brother is dying, and Sam is desperate.

Knock at the door. Sam stands, his body taut, his hunter instincts kick in, just like that because there’s some unknown person at the door. So fun to watch Sam draw himself tall. But it’s Dean, not someone unknown, looking very pale and hunched over and shouldn’t-be-out-of-bed bad. Sam’s all over him, looking alarmed, and Flip. Dean is the vulnerable one, Sam is the caregiver. Sam’s not good at it yet. His arms and hands and legs don’t quite know they’re doing as they help Dean into a chair.

Dean tries to make like he left the hospital because there were no hot nurses. Oh, Dean, you liar. I know it’s because he doesn’t want to die alone. He’d ruther die in his brother’s arms than anywhere. Like in some hospital room, surrounded by strangers. Not that he’d admit this, of course. Still, he’s giving in, and this is not like Dean. Flip. Sam, on the other hand, tells Dean what he’s going to do. He’s going to save him. That’s it. No questions asked. I’m not going to say that this is the first time Sam stands up like this, but I will say it’s the strongest. Everything comes down to him, because at this point, Dean can barely walk.

Also, Dean is wearing a hoodie. Yes, that’s right, a hoodie. Flip. Usually Sam wears the hoodie, which makes him look young. But, I’m curious. Where did Dean get it? Did Sam bring it to the hospital? Or did Dean steal it? I’m thinking that the hoodie represents something, but I’m not sure what. Dean certainly looks sweet in it, maybe 18 or something, instead of his mature 26 or so. Maybe it’s the way he holds himself, his shoulders all curled in as if he can’t hold them upright (like he normally does). Maybe it’s something I’ve not thought of yet. Anyway, he’s so damn adorable in the thing, I just want to hug him.

[nms:CW Supernatural,2,0]

Around them is just about as crappy a room as they’ve ever stayed in. There are stacked pizza boxes as well as dirty dishes. The colors are faded green and rusty red, like the walls hurt. The place looks worn, too, like it was decorated back in the seventies and no one has checked on it since. The carpet looks thin and stained, with no cushion under it to shield it from the cement underneath. It’s set dressing like this that puts this show by itself. The small details, they say, make a story, and it’s nowhere more evident than in a room like this, reflecting the despair and the hopelessness of their situation.

The brothers sit to talk, and they’re knee-to-knee. As if they are creating a cone of power around them. They like to be next to each other like that. It’s happier when they’re closer. That’s all I’m saying. Sam has found a specialist in Nebraska, he says. They’re going.

Sam drives Dean there, in the rain, and when Dean finds that the specialist is a faith healer, Dean is not just affronted, he’s disgusted. Faith healers are fakes and anyone who believes in them is a moron, Sam! Sam is grasping at straws, anything to stop Dean from dying. You can’t fault a love like that, even though at this point, it seems a tad misguided of Sam to put all his eggs in this particular basket. Sam wants Dean to have faith, but Dean is skeptical. He only believes what he sees. It’s black and white or nothing for Dean.

Sam’s got his hands all over Dean to help him walk across the parking lot. Dean can hardly bear being helped like this and spends half his time shoving Sam away. Except for the potential of the faith healer, Sam looks like he’d rather wrap his brother up in cotton wool and keep him safe and feed him ‘mater soup and ‘rackers. When my sister had a heart attack, I had the same impulse and brought her a large green fluffy fleecy blanket and took it over to her when she got back from the hospital. The one thing on my mind was keeping her warm and safe because there was nothing else I could do and I had the same sense of helplessness that Sam looks like he has.

The boys meet up with Layla and Mrs. Layla’s Mom, both of who believe in the faith healer, Roy LeGrange, desperately. They hope it will be Layla’s turn to be healed, and smile and preen. What I like here is Dean’s rallying “I’ll bet she could work in some mysterious ways,” as he takes in an eyeful of Layla, who is one of those cool, sophisticated blondes that I think Dean secretly longs for even though she’ll never be his.

Inside the tent is all sick people, stuffy air, that church organ playing relentlessly in the background. Sam hustles Dean up to the front, despite Dean’s protests of “No” and “Get off me.” Normally, the brothers are all over each other, like they share the same space or something, so here’s another Flip. Sam is trying to help Dean walk and sit, and Dean is pushing his brother’s hands off. You don’t see that too often. Dean does not like to be this vulnerable, though I’ll admit, seeing him like this makes me want to do exactly what Sam is doing.

They sit hip to hip because it’s happier for them, though Dean doesn’t like being up front. His hair looks like that of a hastily brushed wet dog. Sam doesn’t look much better. (Though I love them all scruffy like this.) Then Dean is called. He does not like it, Sam-I-Am. Doesn’t like being under the scrutiny. Doesn’t like being touched while hundreds of eyes watch.

Roy heals Dean. But. There’s the laying on of hands, and the intimacy that this brings, and when the faith healer touches Dean, it kinda makes me uncomfortable. Cause Dean, you know, he doesn’t like strangers touching him, or maybe that’s just me thinking that. All I know is, Dean’s head tips back like his neck can’t hold it up any more and he’s fighting it, and I gasp.

The camera goes in for a close up of Dean’s face and the slow motion falling away of any control he has over any part of his body. (How does Ackles manage this boneless fall?) He sinks to his knees, and my eyebrows fly up to my hairline. Dean is normally made of iron. I feel like I should look away to give him his privacy, but, being me, I’m drawn to him, the sweetness of his expression as he tumbles to the floor. There’s nothing more moving than seeing a strong man brought down. Doesn’t happen often, and almost never to Dean. Flip.

Sam rushes up. Oh yeah, Sammy, I’m right behind you. He does everything I want to do. He shouts Dean’s name, he pushes people out of the way, he pulls Dean to him, worrying and fussing. Sam doesn’t care who’s watching. All that matters is Dean. (Which is as it should be.) But wait! Dean sees something. It is a Reaper.

The Reaper makes his appearance in this ep in such a quiet and ominous way (and is cleverly accompanied by strains of BOC’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper”), that I can’t imagine anyone being immune to his charms. He’s coming for us all one day, right? He is and as I watch him, I think it and it creeps me out. Not because the Reaper is howling and running. No, he never makes a peep or breaks a sweat. (Though he does look a little like someone spread white Play Dough on his face and left it there to dry.) He just keeps coming and doesn’t stop.

The brothers get Dean checked out at a local hospital, where Dean is pronounced healthy. He looks pretty yummy too, maybe it’s the red he’s wearing that lights up his skin, even as he still looks so pale. Sam wants them to accept that Dean is well, no questions asked. But Dean, now, he’s got doubts. He’s starting to think something fishy is going on. Flip. Usually it’s the other way around, with Dean thinking in black and white, while Sam rummages around in his ambiguity drawer.

You only see the Reaper if he’s coming for you, which is why Sam hasn’t seen him, and Dean has. He’s almost can’t convince Sam of this, which is another Flip because little brother is always ready to believe (and always wants Dean to believe him), and Dean, this time, has to tell Sammy to have a little faith. To trust Dean, who is not insisting on this because he’s older, but because he’s been around long enough to trust himself. And isn’t that a good thing? Some people never learn that one.

Dean talks to Roy. He wants to make sense of the miracle, he says. Why me? Roy tells him it’s because of what was in Dean’s heart, because Dean’s got an important job to do. What Dean makes of this I hardly know, but the scene moves to Sam, checking out dead swimming guy, Marshall Hall, who, it turns out, died at the same time Dean was healed.

Back at the motel. Dean comes in and starts undressing, which I like very much, but then he stops after he peels off the first layer, which I do not like. Sam tells him what happened to dead swimming guy. That’s when the real trouble starts. I say the real trouble because it’s the moral question that’s the problem here, almost more than the Reaper, which is, yes, killing people. Roy, it seems, is using the Reaper in order to heal. Sam likens this to trying to put a dog collar on a great white, which makes me laugh. I love it when Sam uses similes, he should do it more often. The brothers discuss that if someone is healed, someone else dies of that same disease. (They sit, knee-to-knee under the table. I can’t see it for sure, but I know that they are.)

This is the moral dilemma, whether it is right that someone died so that Dean could live. This more than pisses Dean off, it troubles him. Flip. Usually nothing, and I mean nothing (beyond keeping Sam safe and alive) troubles Dean. He hunts bad things and he saves people. He shoots to kill, end of story. He doesn’t worry his pretty head about it, he just gets the job done. But here, it’s not so clear. And now, on top of that, they’ve got to stop Roy from healing anyone because that would mean someone else, someone innocent, will also die. But, isn’t Layla with her brain tumor an innocent as well? Doesn’t she deserve to live? Could they, or should they, wait one more day so that Layla can get healed, regardless of who else suffers? I can almost see the issues spinning around behind Dean’s eyes and he doesn’t know what to do.

In Sam’s mind, the answer seems very clear. Yes, he’s sorry, he didn’t know about the other guy, but Dean’s alive and that’s all that matters. (Sam says he’s sorry, but I have a feeling that even if he had known, he wouldn’t have stopped it.) I’m not saying that he doesn’t care about Layla, but, in his own words, what can you do? The question of life and death is not theirs to answer, and really, Dean’s alive, so everything else is a non-issue to him.

The conversation is layered and marvelous. Dean says, you know what we have to do. Sam says, we can’t kill Roy, he’s human. Dean mocks Sam, calls him college boy, and snaps that since Sam has dissed all of Dean’s ideas, he, Sam can now come up with one. But I’m still stuck on what Sam said. We can’t kill him, he’s human. As if being human saves him from being evil. Is Sam now making God-decisions as to who lives and who dies? Flip?

The brothers go into action. First Dean stalls Roy, while Sam figures out how the Reaper is being controlled. Then, when Sam goes into the library (looking tall and at home amongst the books, using his long, beautiful fingers to move through the dusty shelves) he finds the spell book. He calls Dean, who must now stop Roy while Sam goes after the black alter. Problem is, that moral ambiguity comes up yet again. Dean must stop Roy from healing Layla, who is right in front of him. He hesitates. Dean has already determined that it’s not okay to play God, yet here he is, doing just that, because he doesn’t want to be the one to choose. But by not choosing, he is. He eventually shouts “fire” and gets everyone out, which gives Sam some time, but it can’t have been easy. The expression on his face tells me so.

The Reaper does not stop when Roy’s healing ritual is stopped and it’s Dean who figures out that it’s Mrs. Roy controlling the Reaper, not Roy. Dean tries to stop Mrs. Roy, and there’s a fun bit (for me, not for Dean) as she screams that he’s attacking her and the cops drag Dean out of the tent. They’re overly rough, he’s belligerent (as he does so well), and you can see he’s just about to start fighting back, but that would blow his cover so he cools it. (He’s just so rough and rugged here, my fangirl brain loves it.)

Mrs. Roy gives Dean a piece of her mind (what little of it there is), which is followed by a difficult conversation with Layla. Layla is peeved at Dean because Dean is why she didn’t get healed. Dean says under his breath that Layla deserves it more than he did to be alive. What’s with you Dean? Do you actually think you’re this worthless piece of clay that no one will miss when it’s gone? That’s just crazy talk, you hear me? (I just want to shake him!)

Back at the motel. Another knee-to-knee conversation (this makes them comfortable, wherever they happen to be). Sam tells Dean about the binding spell being used to trap the Reaper. (Sam seems to be storing this information for future use to control the only thing that knows how to both give and take life.) Sam determines that Mrs. Roy is evil for doing what she did, while Dean considers that she’s merely desperate. Flip. Dean is the empathic one here, full of sympathy and understanding. It’s like living in Bizzaro World.

Back at the tent. Night. Raining. Dean draws off the cops while Sam goes into the creepy, damp basement (like Persephone descending into hell), where he’s discovered by a very puffy-faced Mrs. Roy. Sam pushes over her black alter and she punishes Sam by locking him in the basement. I am distracted by the line of Mr. Padalecki’s boxer shorts as he attempts to use his long reach and the power of those legs to push out of the now-locked cellar door. He’ll find a way, I know he will. Meanwhile, Mrs. Roy sets the Reaper on Dean, so that Layla can finally be healed.

The Reaper comes for Dean and Dean does not run. I’m shouting, “Run, RUN, you beautiful boy!!” and Dean just stands there. The Reaper cups the side of Dean’s face with his hand. Dean lets him and I am flabbergasted. Okay, I’m dumb, I’ll admit it. I had to have this explained to me. Dean is letting the Reaper take him because he feels guilty that he got cured instead of Layla. For a guy who insists pretty hard that no one should play God but God, he sure is doing a good job of messing around.

Dean’s sense of self worth is low. Not just low from time to time, but gutter low. All the time. I’m not sure if it’s a death wish or resignation because he feels he shouldn’t even be alive. Dean turns himself inside out when he finds out that the Reaper took an innocent person’s life and gave it to him. His face is a mixture of resignation and terror as the Reaper comes for him but I’m distracted by his rosy and quivering lip and I just want to kiss it. You deserve to live, honey, I tell him. Maybe more than anyone.

Needless to say, Sam gets free, and boy, oh boy, is Mrs. Roy in trouble. Sam smashes her Coptic cross, the Reaper stops his assault on Dean, and then the Reaper comes for Mrs. Roy, who dies twitching on the wet ground while Sam watches. Remember Sam insisting that they can’t play God? Well, here he is. He sets the Reaper free and lets it attack Mrs. Roy. Is allowing her to die the same thing as killing her? Some would say yes, which means, in effect, that Sam has killed a human being. An evil one, to be sure, but human just the same. Flip. (But really, going after a Winchester like that, she should have known better.)

The ep ends with the two brothers in that rusty motel room. They are not knee-to-knee now, but still in close proximity to one another. Dean is on the bed, pale again, looking worried. He wants to know if they did the right thing, and Sam assures him that they did. Flip. Sam, he looks at his list. Dean alive? Check. We’re done here. Dean, though, he’s still floundering around in the moral ambiguity and his arms are getting tired.

A knock. Sam answers. It’s Layla, and Dean gets up. He’s twitchy because his own private hell, a chick flick moment, has arrived. Sam, who planned this whole thing so Dean could say goodbye, marches out. His role as primary caregiver is finished and Sam should be very proud how he filled those shoes.

Layla says she’s okay, and Dean looks doubtful. She thinks the Lord works in mysterious ways, and Dean looks like he doubts this, too. (He’s so beautiful like this.) Then she explains that you can’t have faith only when things are going well, that you have to have it when things are going badly. That’s why it’s called faith. She gets up to leave. Everyone is pale. Dean says, “I’m not the praying kind, but I’m going to pray for you.” He’ll pray for her, that’s Layla’s miracle. Dean all angst and emo and teary eyed, that’s mine.

I love this episode. It’s a bravura performance for everyone, especially Mr. Ackles. He manages to make Dean look pale and pissed off all at the same time. Now, back to him in that hoodie, with those adorable freckles of his.

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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