Supernatural: Dream a Little Dream of Me

Dream Boys
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review, Season Three – Episode 10
“Dream a Little Dream of Me”

Watching this episode is like being stretched on the rack, you know, the medieval kind some people have in their basements. I suspect Kripke’s got one, and he practices on it all the time. I’m not saying he drags actual fangirls down there to torture them, but as I’m watching this installment of the saga of the Brothers Winchester, I can picture him. Watching. Every twitch, every squirm, listening to every shriek and gasp. (Cause that’s how I watch this show, you see.) And then he asks, “Have you had enough?” Several times I say, “Yes, yes!” And then he goes, “I’m the one who decides when you’ve had enough.” And the torture continues. But it’s a beautiful torture, because the turn of events left me breathless. The story was twisted, the boys were beautiful, and the results were, as Dean would say, awesome.

The plot revolves around Bobby, who investigated the death of a doctor who was handing out sleeping potions to help people who can’t dream. Sadly, Bobby gets trapped inside of his own nightmares, where he relives the event that turned him into a hunter. Sam and Dean quickly figure out how to get inside Bobby’s head, and then they rescue him. Only to find out that the real culprit was one of the doctor’s patients, who comes after Dean and Sam in their sleep. Eventually they defeat the bad guy, and live happily ever after. Yeah. Uh-huh. If you think that’s all there was to this ep, think again.

The good stuff opens with Sam in a bar, which is a scene made of brotherly love. He’s a lonely boy, staring into his drink, turning the glass around in those manly paws of his. I know what’s wrong within two seconds, cause I know Sam. He’s sad. He’s been sad a lot lately, and that’s bad.

What makes this scene so cool is the fact that when Big Brother shows up, Sam is drunk. Sam drunk is like a petulant child with his “so what?” and his “you do it,” trying to excuse being drunk at 2 in the afternoon. Except this child is tall and built, has very large manhands, and a head full of Samhair. This scene is so blissful for me, because drunk Sam’s voice is only a register or two above being gravelly. I suppose, since he’s drinking whiskey, its his whiskey voice, his “I’m being tortured, here” voice. What’s even funnier is that when Dean finds out that Sam’s going all emo on him, he orders a double whiskey, neat. I mean, wouldn’t you?

The conversation they have is a melody we’ve heard before, but the words feel new. Sam says “I can’t save you,” and “why don’t you care more about yourself?” and “what’s wrong with you?” Dean, being his evasive self, fends off the truth with a flick of those marvelous eyelashes. A sense of “yeah, bring it,” slides over me. It’s conversations like this where Show winds up the torque. Feelings are expressed, hearts are revealed. But not secrets.

A phone call tells them that Bobby is in a coma, and then the boys get to work. While Sam figures out the notes in the closet of Bobby’s hotel room, Dean interrogates people. He wears a suit, which, although dapper on him (as always) looks a little rough, and that’s okay. It should be, considering it came from the trunk of a ’67 Impala, which, although has enough room for six dead bodies (if you stack them right), is currently stuffed with weapons and salt, so there is not enough room for the weapons and the salt AND the suit. So something’s got to give here.

In his suit, Dean harangues an assistant for the dead doctor’s records. He doesn’t flirt with her, she isn’t turned on by him (silly girl), and in the end, he threatens her with the doctor’s non-approved experiments going on her “permanent record.” Oh, right. Like he even has any idea what a college transcript looks like.

Then he visits Jeremy, one of the doctor’s ex-patients. I’m not saying Dean’s not good at interrogations, he gets the job done, but it seems a little ragged without Sam. It’s happier when they’re together, it just is. But I’m appeased that we learn new stuff about Dean, and nothing fans haven’t already speculated, but, now (heh) it’s canon. Jeremy is worried that Dean is there on account of the weed that Jeremy has been smoking. Dean says, “Don’t worry, fish,” and I’m like, what? According to the Urban Dictionary, a fish is a new inmate in prison. Dean’s using this term bespeaks of an uncomfortable familiarity with it.

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And then he accepts that beer. Watch him while he opens the cap with his ring. Is that cool or what? It’s such a guy thing, I’ve never seen a woman do that, but you know, I’m going to try it next time someone offers me a beer. (I can open a beer on a window ledge. First, I position the cap along the edge, and then slam the heel of my hand down. Sometimes, it comes off like a Catholic schoolgirl’s slip. Other times, it’s like trying to get a hotel room open using those damn plastic keys. Messes up my hand.) Anyway, Dean sucks down half the bottle with the vigor and ease of a stockman who’s been all night in the outback chasing brumbies.

Then, Jeremy talks about the tea the doctor gave him, saying, it was like a bad acid trip, you know? And Dean goes, “Totally…uh, no.” (Watch Ackles’ terrific comedic timing – a joke like this could so easily have been ruined in less capable hands.) Dean-o! Acid? Don’t you know it will mess with your head? Though this insight into Dean’s backstory is cool, it makes Dean out to be a much naughtier boy than I had previously thought.

On with the plot. Bobby’s dreams about killing his wife are horrific, but even more moving is watching Dean at Bobby’s bedside. This scene is short, but I like him like this, all stoic and still, his body bent forward towards Bobby’s. Dean’s lost so many people, and hospitals are never fun places to be. He’s like that picture, you know? The faithful hound, head resting on its paws, lingering to an untimely death at the graveside of his master.

Dean’s marvelous here, breathtaking in his devotion to Bobby. I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t. It’s a very private moment, and Show gives it to me like a bribe to keep me from screaming later when other bad stuff happens. And it will. And then Sam walks in. I’m not saying Sam ruins the scene, he could never do that, but it makes Dean sit up and pretend normal, and the angst disappears. He’s rather good at that, making me realize how often he does it, especially to Sam. Pretending it’s okay, even though it’s not.

The exposition that follows is typical, but fun. The boys talk about what’s going on, evil dreamroot, evil dreamwalking, yadda, yadda, yadda. More importantly, they’re beautiful. This is not unusual, but the fact that the scene takes place in a hospital means that they’re both lit very brightly and from all sides. You can see how green Dean’s eyes are, how soft his mouth. How angular Sam’s face, how smooth his skin. And as for Samhair, I about DIED when Sam flips his head to one side to get the hair out of his eyes. It’s a fangirl’s dream.

The boys then do a walk and talk down the hospital corridor. They realize they would normally call Bobby for help. But since it IS Bobby they are trying to help, they are on their own. I like this independence. It’s sexy. What’s also sexy is that Sam is TEN feet tall, and I’m not kidding. (Ackles and Padalecki are tall, just plain tall. Ackles is what, 6’ 2”, right? And Padalecki is 6’4”? In this scene, though, walking side by side, Padalecki’s head is scraping the ceiling, so I don’t know what they’ve been feeding this boy. But it’s got to be something. He’s just tall. And lovely.) Then the boys discuss what they’re going to do.

Dean, my brilliant boy, figures that they should go into Bobby’s dreams to find out what’s wrong from there. That’s so bold and brave and, I think, foolish. Sam objects, to which Dean replies, “How bad could it be?” Listen to Sam’s instant response: “Bad.” And who would know better than Sam how bad a person’s dreams can get? No one, except for Dean. Poor Sammy. Then Dean says, “Dude, it’s Bobby.” Meaning that there isn’t anything they shouldn’t be willing to do to help him.

Sadly, the boys determine that they must go to Bella for the dream root. I smell a plot device, because the original doctor didn’t get his root from Bella, so there’s more than one source. I’m going to put up with it because frankly, neither of the boys seem overly chuffed to encounter her again, which is as it should be. I love how Dean admits that the thought of talking to her makes him feel dirty, and not in a good way. Bella needs handling with a ten-foot pole. And gloves. And disinfectant afterwards. Which brings us to the next scene.

It’s Sam alone in the hotel room. There’s porn music playing, I swear. Not that I watch porn, okay, but it is. It just is. There’s a knock at the door. No, it’s not the gardener wanting a drink of water (when everyone knows perfectly well he could get a drink from the garden hose), it’s Bella. Already, I’m not liking this. She comes in smarmy. Then she takes off her trench coat and exposes her lingerie-draped frame. (What is it with the wardrobe people? They do make lingerie in other colors, you know.) And it gets worse. She throws herself at him, and he asks, “Are you sure?” (cause he’s a gentleman like that, nervous and sweet, waiting for the woman to come to him), and then they kiss. And then they fall upon the bed. She moans. They writhe together like adults do. Urg.

There’s aggressive kissing on Sam’s part, which is fine, except that it’s with Bella. (I can’t imagine Sam EVER wanting Bella. Not after all the stuff that she’s pulled.) And then, Bella is moaning, “Sam, Sam!” and I’m like, where’s Sam? Please don’t tell me he’s doing what I think he’s doing, but if he’s not on screen, then where is he? Sam, what are you DOING, stop it!! Oh, where is the bleach so I can wash out my eyes. I’m going to hurl, right now. This should NOT be happening. It’s all kinds of wrong and I am about to have the tattoo that says “I am Kripke’s bitch” removed from wherever it is on my body. And. Then. Sam.Wakes.Up.Thank goodness, because my hand was ON that bottle of bleach.

Sam drools, smiling a giddy little smile, and displaying certain difficulties that show up after a provocative dream like that. He takes pains to hide this from his brother, doing that crotch-pulling thing, then some side stretches, asking Dean to give him a minute. I laughed so hard, I honest to god peed my pants. I was so glad when the commercial break came so I could get a drink of water and take a deep breath. (And, truth? After all those nightmares for over two years? Sam DESERVES this dream. Even though I dislike Bella, when I found out it was a dream, I thought that it wasn’t so bad. And heck. The boy’s had it coming, so to speak.)

But why should Sam hide his erection from Dean? Are they not men? Are they not brothers? Have they not spent over 22 years cheek-by-jowl in more motel rooms than you can take a stick at? So why is he reluctant to admit that he’s woken up with a woody? I’m sure Dean does it all the time and with nary a qualm. He probably wakes up and pets it a little and strides into the bathroom for a hot shower and who knows what with his right hand. He would think it was a natural, human thing. But that Sam, I guess he’s shy about that. Which just makes him all the sweeter in my eyes.

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Dean, meanwhile, is oblivious. (I do love seeing a pen in Dean’s hands. He holds it like a second grader, balancing the pen not on his middle finger but on his ring finger. If he’d gone to Catholic school, those nuns would have beat that right out of him, so I’m thankful that he did not cause he’s so gosh durn cute that way.) Then when he figures out what’s going on, he mocks Sam for making happy noises (and how does he know what they sound like?) and mocks Sam for dreaming about Angelina (Jolie, not the Ballerina one). Or maybe it’s Brad Pitt? (Hey, he’s good looking and all, but I don’t think he’s Sam’s mancrush.)

Then the real Bella arrives and the timing in this is perfect. Sam’s all “hey” and “whassup?” playing it cool. (I just hope for Show’s sake that this was a one off and not some dorky way to use a dream to get Sam to realize he’s got the hots for Bella. Because I will seriously use that bleach, wash out my eyes with it, get that tattoo removed, and stop watching Show.) Plus, Dean does an adorable double take when Sam actually ASKS Bella how it’s going. (Oh, Ackles, he’s just has it, you know? I love how he does this with a sparkle in his eye. Like he’s having a good time, which is as it should be.)

Check out the swank hotel the boys stay in this week. Normally, I’d be bellyaching, going on about how evocative those grotty places they usually stay in are. And about how the squalor adds so much to the spareness of the boy’s lives. And about how run-down bathrooms and thin towels make the boys look more beautiful than they already are. But this week, by golly, I’m going to let it go by without even mentioning that.

I’m not saying I would decorate my house like this, but it is kind of neat. And think about it. Last week’s motel room was hellfire orange. This week the room is peacock blue and green, like a Morris print. More like heaven. It’s a little surreal in a way, and I think it’s the wallpaper that does the trick. It keeps the eye from focusing, and makes the brain doubt what it’s seeing. And there are birds everywhere, peacocks especially. Maybe some blue herons, too. Escher bird shapes make up the grillwork on the partition just inside the door. Note that the boys in the scene where they drink the tea, are wearing blue shirts. Maybe it’s too much blue, I don’t know. But it sure is riveting.

Sam brings in the dream tea. Dean’s suggestion about the Dark Side of the Moon leaves Sammy baffled. But he’s so cute! He asks “Why?” like a kid who doesn’t understand why you would want to burn a marshmallow all the way down to the stick instead of toasting it to a gentle golden brown before eating it. Dean knows the answer, right? Because it’s fun!

Then, Sam announces that in the tea, they must ingest some of Bobby. Like a hair. This is rather gaggy, though it is fun watching the boys chuck it back like they were drinking bull pee. And it’s always fun to watch Sam’s neck when he swallows. Well, anytime, really, if you must know. (And lo, the fangirls scream with delight at the quick from-the-ceiling camera angle of Dean and Sam sprawled out on their respective beds. Asleep. Like angels.)

They enter Bobby’s dream, and I was only seconds behind Sam when he realizes that the house they are in is Bobby’s place but without the mess. It’s years earlier, you see, and the rooms show a woman’s touch. I’m sure there’s loads of symbolism in this dream sequence. The fact that the boys separate straight off is not symbolic, however, just stupid. Don’t they know they’re on a horror TV show? Don’t they know the first rule of survival is don’t separate? But they do.

Sam goes outside, which looks suspiciously tranquil, to wander amongst the white sheets drying on the line. (Bleach, anyone?) I’m wondering what it means that the brightly-lit outside doesn’t match the sepia-toned inside. But Sam is outside, so let’s stick to that. He encounters Jeremy (who looks like a demented Elijah Wood in this scene) who uses a bat (his weapon of choice) to thunk Sam in the chest hard enough to send him to the ground. (It’s like watching a giant redwood being toppled isn’t it?) Jeremy has stuff to say about Sam’s not belonging there, and about how Bobby was chasing him and how all he wants to do is be able to dream. But who cares about him, right? Sam’s on the ground, suffering! My poor baby!

Dean looks for Bobby. (Him opening those pocket doors is how I imagine him opening the door to my bedroom, some late, late night. It’s just that hot.) Then Dean finds Bobby and helps him confront his past. Which of course, this being Supernatural, is tragic beyond belief. And after everything that Bobby’s done for Dean (and Sam), it was very gratifying to see Dean return the favor. He’s got to convince Bobby that it’s all a dream, and he does this by grabbing Bobby and saying, “You’re like a father to me.” Oh. Can you feel that? Did you HEAR it? It’s a little tear in my fangirl heart. I mean I knew Bobby was like a father to Dean, now I KNOW it, if you know what I mean. Then, the boys wake up all sweaty and panting, and how nice is that? Thank you, Show.

At the hospital, they discuss. Sam finds out that Dean drank the beer that Jeremy offered him. It shouldn’t be so fun watching Sam scold Dean but it is. Especially when Sam’s hair is so PRETTY and fluffy. And Dean looks guilty, and therefore is adorable in my eyes. Then Bobby enjoins the boys to coffee up so Jeremy can’t get into their dreams before they find him. Here’s the joke. The screen flashes the message: “Two Days Later,” which tells you exactly how long the boys have been drinking coffee and not sleeping. Now, the boys drink coffee all the time. In fact, there’s no ep where they don’t. Sam likes his fussy, with cream and flavorings like mocha, vanilla, and, I suspect, hazelnut. Dean, he likes his black, straight up. And have you noticed that he barely uses the handle? Just wraps those fine, fine fingers of his around the mug and drinks it that way.

But there’s a difference between one cup and two days worth. Dean’s driving and he’s so caffinated that he can’t slow down, stop talking, or anything. He’s got the jitters so bad, it’s like ants are crawling all over him. Sam, right beside him, seems rather calm. I get the feeling that he knows a whole lot more about dealing with not sleeping than Dean does. Finally, Dean says, enough, and pulls over to nap.

Before they fall asleep, Sam plucks some of Dean’s hair to enter Dean’s dream, so neither one of them will have to deal with this alone. (I guess Sam must be glad it wasn’t some other body part he’s supposed to ingest, huh?) The second dream ensues. The boys encounter Lisa, who tells Dean she loves him. And then Dean says, “I never dreamed this.” Sam is looking at him. Dean says, “Don’t look at me like that.” Cause he doesn’t like it when people look at him like that. (That’s enough, Haley Joel.) If Dean is lying and the dream is true, it tells us that he has been thinking about Lisa. Maybe even having thoughts about settling down. (Perish the thought.)

Anyway, Sam hears something and they race through Dean’s dream. (That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?) Yet again, they separate. Sam runs into Jeremy, who, surprise, surprise, has developed his powers to the point where he can manipulate stuff. Like rope. And iron spikes in the ground to which the rope is attached. And like, Sam. Tied up.

Can we just talk about this for a minute? Yeah. I think I might have choked on my own tongue when I saw this. He’s TIED up. With his hands stretched out and everything. At least he wasn’t naked, because then I would have gone up in spontaneous combustion, like one of those people you hear about on Unexplained Mysteries. Yeah. Me. Ashes.

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As the camera moves, I can see that he’s tied up as though he were hanging on a cross. Being crucified. Then Jeremy starts beating him with a baseball bat. Not fun to watch, cause, man, baseball bats hurt! While Sam writhes in pain, he figures it out. If this guy is in his dream, he can be in this guy’s. (He’s always thinking, even when he’s tied up, which is a good thing because it happens a LOT). So he conjures the guy’s abusive father. I was a wee bit uncomfortable with how easy this was for Sam, to tell you the truth, weren’t you?

Jeremy’s dad is not a nice dad (he once hit his son in the head with a baseball bat), and yells for his son. While Jeremy is distracted by his leg-pissing fear of his father, Sam takes a bat to Jeremy and kills him. Inside Dean’s head. Which is neat trick, because now Dean will have memories of something that was a figment of Sam’s imagination. How weird is that? And how weird is it that Jeremy’s dad looks a little like Papa Winchester? With the same, gruff strength and low, commanding voice? Papa Winchester is a hell of a lot better looking, but honestly, there was always that just-under-the-skin menace he carried around with him.

Dean’s run through the woods brings him to a Morris-print hallway lined with doors, with Day-Glo colors and creepy branches reaching along the walls. One of the doors leads to the Morris-print hotel room, where Dean encounters his own worst nightmare. Himself. Oh, Dean. Poor Dean. There have been so many demons that tormented Dean with how broken he is. But what fans know, what fans have always known, is that Dean is his own worst critic. Even The Dad’s harshest words can’t match the torture that Dean wreaks upon his own head. He’s been slamming himself against a wall, harder than Sam ever could, and now it comes to this. This dream.

Because that’s what this ep is all about, confronting the demons within. Of course, for Dean, it’s a little more complicated than the crap most of us give ourselves, because on top of feeling like he’s worthless, Dean is going to hell. Really, really. Straight down into the pit. Leaving the world behind, his Impala, and Sam. Especially Sam.

Dean’s encounter with Nightmare Dean starts off slow, like a cakewalk, and it’s hard to tell the Real Dean from Nightmare Dean. They circle like grey wolves. Then there’s the usual dialog where a character confronts himself in a dream or a trance. Nightmare Dean tells Dean stuff Dean already knows. But this is just the warm-up. Then Nightmare Dean says, “Your car? That’s Dad’s. Your favorite leather jacket? Dad’s. Your music? Dad’s. Do you even have an original thought?” (Yeah, they said it. Out loud.)

There’s close-ups of Nightmare Dean’s mouth as he says this (YUMMY!), but this is far more serious than Dean’s being The Dad’s own little mini-me. This is a question of self-worth. While I noticed early on in that Dean was using and enjoying a lot of his father’s gear (the coat, the music, and the car), I was oblivious to the fact that what he was really doing was toting the load for everything The Dad wanted and was. Dean got sublimated beneath The Dad and it’s taken this long for him to surface. He’s had ten episodes now of Sam whining about saving Dean, or not being able to save Dean, about giving up, about never giving up. But Dean’s resisted until this point, even in this ep, where the first thing we saw was Sammy crying in his cups. That didn’t do it; Dean went blithely on, facing his death. So what in this scene tipped the scales?

Nightmare Dean says that Dean was nothing more than Daddy’s little blunt instrument. Then he says, “Your own father didn’t care whether you lived or died, why should you?” I think this is what tips it for Dean because he starts shoving. And shouting. Stuff I never thought I’d hear him say. About how The Dad was obsessed, how he failed to look out for his family, and about how he put stuff on Dean he shouldn’t have, and how Dean was the only one who was always there for Sammy. And then, he says IT: “I don’t deserve to go to hell.” And then he shoots Nightmare Dean. By Grapthar’s Hammer, I stood up and SCREAMED. At last. At LAST. He did it. Not because it’s messing up Sam, even though it is, but he did it for himself. It took him long enough, finally. FINALLY. Give that boy a KISS!

I cannot overstate the cathartic effect this scene had on me. I mean, I’m a True Fan and I like watching Dean suffering as well as the next fangirl. Whump me some Dean and I am THERE. And I was willing to watch the angst continue. A hero should suffer, yes, and Dean does it SO well. But the boy deserves to move on to the next step in his journey, and here he does so. HE does so, mind you. Nobody helps him. All on his own, he makes that move that takes him to where the suffering ends. Where hope is replenished and, dare I say it, there is redemption. (Please don’t ask me what it means when Nightmare Dean comes to life as demon because it just hurts my brain to think of it.)

The boys wake up sweaty, breathing hard in the Impala. (Thank you again, Show!) Back at the hotel, they discover that Bella stole the Colt. Dean wants to “hunt the bitch down,” but I hope they don’t succeed. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love the Colt, because the Colt makes me think of The Dad, which is always a hot image. But like the boys rescued Bobby without Bobby’s help, they have to learn to hunt demons without the gun. They can’t depend on Ruby either, so they are on their own. Like they were in the beginning, taking care of business, Winchester style. I’m glad to see this because for a while, it was like season three of Star Trek, where there wasn’t anything Spock couldn’t rescue everyone from. Spock was like Superman, and Superman is only fun if there’s some kryptonite that can take him down, which keeps everything more interesting.

Then, as they’re packing up the Impala, Dean wants to know what Sam saw in his head. Sam says Jeremy, what about you. Dean lies, saying, “I looked for you the whole time.” They get in the Impala. There’s a pause. Then Dean says, “Sam?” Sam says, “Yep,” all laconic, like he’s been waiting for just this moment for Dean to open up to him. And I can’t say I was surprised by what Dean had to say, because so much of the ep was devoted to building up to this moment, but I was so very satisfied. Dean says, “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to go to hell.” And Sam says, “Alright, yeah, we’ll find a way of saving you.” Contained, because this is Dean’s moment, his turnaround point. And Sam is controlled, too. Like it’s a done deal, which it probably is. Dean says, “Okay, good.” His voice is shaking SO hard, and it’s so very poignant to hear him say it aloud so he can’t back down. Oh, Dean. I hope you realize how very brave this is. And the fangirl glee that I experience at gazing upon your beautiful self is now joined by admiration for your sheer guts.

The ep ends with Nightmare Dean who, in a quirky flashback, repeats that that this is what you’ll become, Dean. (In other words, a demon.) And then he cocks his head to one side and snaps his fingers. Which means, I think, that if a guy wants to wake up from his own nightmare, he can. And he will, because Dean’s a determined guy. Oh, yeah, sure, there’s the whole “he better not try and welsh out on the deal or Sam drops dead” thing. But I’ve got a feeling Dean’s going to figure a way around it.

By this time, Kripke says that now I’ve had enough, and he gives me leave to get up, turn off the TV, and go rinse myself off. Thank you sir, may I have another?

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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