“Your mother was a cash register!” - Louise Baltimore

Got Hands, In Pockets
by Sylvia Bond
A Supernatural Episode Review, Season Three – Episode 14
“Long Distance Call”

The teaser opens with a guy on the phone talking to his paramour. He’s trying to get rid of her, and hangs up. He gets so frustrated when she calls back that he rips the phone out of the wall. When this happens, I’m thinking to myself that the phone company isn’t going to like that, no, not at all. Then afterwards, as the phone sits silent on the floor, I KNEW that it was going to ring, and it did. Then, the guy kills himself and there is blood everywhere. This was a little predictable, but fun.

Normally, I can’t predict much about Show, but I realized that if I could in as short a span as the teaser, that I might be in for some Supernatural “lite.” That I also started making jokes while watching the opening scene was not a good sign. It means that I’m in a bad mood and am trying to find things to laugh at to cheer myself up. That Show chose this week to run this particular episode is just bad luck, and I’d like to think that squee-lite reaction had more to do with me and my mood than that the ep felt flat. I keep trying to tell myself that.

Enter Sam and Dean, who meet in a rain slick courtyard. We view them through a high camera angle, (which to me indicates emotional space), and you can see two characters, one sitting on a bench, the other walking. It takes me a minute to realize which is who, and I’m suddenly struck by the effect of this. That to an outsider, if you didn’t KNOW who they were, you wouldn’t know who they are, if you see what I mean. Plus, they are both dressed so inconspicuously that they are almost invisible to the uninitiated. I’m so used to how beautiful they are, this particular shot reminds me that to the majority of the world, not only are Sam and Dean not particularly remarkable (in beauty, handsomeness, or tallness), they simply don’t exist. Can you imagine a world where such a thing were true? Add to that the sad piano cords that start up almost from the beginning, and the whole thing makes me cold, right down to my marrow bones.

Meanwhile, as I distract myself with luscious glimpses of Sam’s thighs as he strides along, there are many nice close-ups of Sam and Dean as they discuss a whole lot of things. Dean is sporting a little bit of scruff, most notably on his upper lip where there’s a wee bit of a moustache coming in. Sam keeps looking up at Dean (if that’s possible), his mighty brow furrowed, the worry leaping out from every pore. Dean wants to go to Ohio (because he’s craaaaaaaaaaaaazy) and because there’s a gig there that’s their kind of thing. Sam insists that they’ve already got a gig, and that is searching for a way out of Dean’s deal.

It’s during this conversation that the secret about Ruby is, at last, is revealed. I’d say it was time, because really, between two brothers as close as this, a secret like this couldn’t have lasted that much longer. Dean’s eyebrows practically twitch off his face when he tells Sam that Ruby is unable to save him from the pit. Sam is almost silent, but on the inside he’s screaming. This is like a betrayal to him; yet again, as the youngest, he’s been protected beyond the point at which it was sensible and safe to do so. Sam is 25 now. I think he’s old enough. (Although to Dean I’m sure he’ll always be little wee Sammy.)

Seems that the brothers are at an impasse and that there isn’t really much more to say when the pot calls the kettle black. But Sam gives in about Ohio. He barely makes a protestation after that. His job this ep seems to remain calm in the face of Dean spinning off into space. This is allowed on account of Dean’s “goin’ away and all.” (I just love the blue collar feel of that phrase. Dean said it first ages ago, but it’s so, I dunno, accepting of his fate. And also it’s rather British of him; because it’s the Brits who like to refer to WWII as “a spot of bother.”) Sam walks off. (Watch him as he tosses that can into the trash without hardly looking. He shoots, he scores!) He wants to keep distance between him and Dean before he smacks his brother in to next week. Because Sam, as you know, is not a puncher, he’s a wall slammer.

There’s food in this scene and the delightful line from Dean, “Pack your panties, Sam, we’re going to Ohio.” But what I noticed, right off, was a hands in pockets stance that shows up through the entire ep as if the characters do not know what to do with themselves. In this scene, it’s Dean doing it, and maybe it’s because of the cold, or maybe he’s got his gun in there, his fingers curled around it for comfort. I wasn’t completely distracted by this, but I did wonder, because it’s not like him to stand that way. It looks and feels very static, as if there wasn’t any staging to round out the scene. Maybe it’s me and I don’t know nothing about making no TV show. You tell me.

Sam and Dean talk to the dead guy’s widow. They are wearing suits that seem cheap and for ONCE that makes sense. I have been informed that the boys rent the suits and do not carry a bunch of them in the trunk of the Impala. Thus endeth that argument – as long as Show keeps the suits realistic! (When they walk in the room, Sam’s got his hands in his pockets. Dean’s hands are soon in his, and they tend to stay there. Is there something I missed in previous eps where the boys also do this a lot? Or is it again a lack of staging? Luckily they both look durned good, otherwise I’d be making more of a fuss about the whole static staging thing.)

Anyway, they pester the widow with enough ineptness as to make me feel they’ve forgotten how. Dean fumbles it; Sam gives him forgiveness with a smile (not answering questions to the police is NOT a capital offence). Then Sam shows his mad phone skills when he is able to work someone else’s phone, like one of those people you know who can always set the clock on the VCR machine. Now that’s scary smart! More seriously, I’m sure Show meant this mistake of Dean’s and his subsequent eyeroll to be funny, and indeed it is, at least a little. But something’s off. I’m beginning to feel that Show picked up an unused Season One script and tried to make a go of it, because it’s unrealistic that at this point Dean wouldn’t know what justifies a capital offense. Show wanted a funny, okay, I can buy that. But I’m thinking that there could have been some other way for Show to make the boys cute. (Other than how cute they already are, of course!)

Back in the motel room, Dean does research on the laptop while Sam lounges sexily on one of the beds. Not that I mind him doing that, but for him to be so unhelpful while Dean is working doesn’t make sense, characterwise. Sam is better equipped to handle the non-linear logic of the Internet and both of them know it. While I could put it down to the fact that he’s still too pissed off at Dean to help, it still feels wrong. I’m used to the boys picking up things, putting them down, packing, getting a drink of water. Anything but just lying there. (Plus the motel room is as bare of the boys’ stuff as a white board is of personality. The room does not contain the usual disarray that I’m used to seeing. Budget cuts for props, maybe? Cause it sure as heckfire isn’t that the boys somehow suddenly developed a neatness gene.)

The research leads the boys to the phone company, where they again don suits and as they come down the stairs, you can see that Sam’s got his left hand in the pocket of his suit jacket. Dean soon has his left hand in his pocket, as well; they’re rather like two adorable bookends. The boys listen to the phone guy talk to them about company visits and apologizes for the flies. (One of which tried to lay eggs in Sam’s hair!) The phone guy introduces them to Stewy who works in the basement and has several of those machines that light up and go ping! (I had a nasty little flashback when Stewy tries to close all the web sites he’s got open when his boss comes up behind him. He’s shaking and clicking and they’re just NOT closing fast enough! I’ve SO been there, haven’t you? I half expected Sam and/or Dean to give him that little keyboard trick where you can bring your background wallpaper to the fore, but they didn’t. I’ve had so many people tell me this trick but I always forget!)

The phone company guy leaves Sam and Dean alone with Stewy. Note that both Sam and Dean each have BOTH of their hands in their pockets now. (Are they just cold, or are they trying not to touch anything? Plus, I hardly think it’s likely that the phone company, even one in Ohio, would provide the guy they stuck in the basement with such a nice and huge panel desk. All he should have is a pile of boxes and a red Swingline stapler. And why do I get the feeling that there are only two employees working for Ma Bell in Ohio?) In spite of these distractions, the little throwaway lines about the bustyasianbeautys.com website had me howling. I loved it that Show had not forgotten this essential URL from Season Two, and that both Dean AND Sam recognized it on this guy’s computer. That Dean recommended the platinum membership was priceless and so totally Dean; he knows how to find pleasure, and wants to share it with the world!

The next scene, where Sam gets out of the new car from OK Auto Rental, was a shock to my system because Sam looks like he should smell like expensive cologne. Plus, with the automatic transmission, power steering, five-disc CD player, A/C and climate control settings, and a GPS (no doubt), Sam must feel that he’s been jetted right into the year 2525 instead of just the present. As to the type of car, I can see that it’s a Chevrolet. I’d love for it to be a gas-guzzling 2008 Impala because the irony of that would be too delicious, but I think it’s just a Malibu. I don’t really know, so I’m just going to have to say that by my guess it’s a “mid-size Chevy or larger” and leave it at that. (Does Sam miss the Impala? Is he falling in love with New Car? Well if he is, Dean better not find out or there’ll be hell to pay. Oh wait. There already is.)

However, as fun as this might be, it still begs the question as to why Sam has a rental car in the first place. In the old days, when he and brother Dean would separate, Sam would walk or dog-trot his way across town (in the rain) to get where he needed to go. Sometimes Dean would drop him off, and SOMETIMES, the brothers would continue to investigate TOGETHER. I don’t know how many times I have to point this out, or how many times I have done so thus far. I guess I’ll have to keep doing it till I’m blue in the face. Which I’m willing to do because I’m so dang invested in what happens to my boys.

In the meantime, I’d like to point something out. Sam is tall. We know that. Sam knows that. Show seems to be trying to hide this and I think it’s terribly funny. Camera angle one looks over Sam’s shoulder at the dad while he talks about strange phone calls. Then camera angle two looks over the dad’s shoulder at Sam. In between, however, there’s a small little clip that shows us that while the camera is level with the dad’s head, it is, at the same time just brushing the top of Sam’s armpit. Show is trying, it really is, but to what end, I don’t know. Sam is taller than Dean and has been since around 1995 or so, when he had that growth spurt. Show needs to quit trying to pretend that he is not!

Sam notices the young chick, that she might know something. I notice that Sam’s hair looks like the fairies have been at it. Either that or he was tossing and turning the night before and didn’t have time for a shower that morning. At any rate, I love it. It’s sticking out like there’s glue in it, and I always think this gives Sam a haphazard air, like he’s got more important things to worry about that his hair. Note that when he walks back out to his rental car, he’s got his right hand in his pocket. Is he that cold? Or does the pattern of hands in pockets actually mean something?

The chick comes out to talk to Sam. (You would too, right?) She can spot right off he doesn’t work for the phone company. (Kids! You can’t get anything past em!) But when talking to the chick, he pulls out all the Sammy tricks he knows (and there are quite a lot of them) to get her to talk to him. I’d list them here but it’d be pages and pages and pages. Let’s just say he uses reverse psychology (and those deep, sparkly green eyes of his) to good effect (not to mention grownup Samhair, the curve of his lush mouth, and the slight “I’m harmless” tilt to his head) to get her to tell him exactly what he wants to know. Which is that she’s been getting some creepy phone calls from her dead mom.

On the phone, Sam and Dean agree that people in the town are getting phone calls from stiffs, but they don’t know why. Meanwhile, yesssssssssssss, Dean gets a phone call from The Dad. Dean is instantly sucked into the moment, hearing the one voice he has so longed to hear. (And hey, can you blame him? JDM’s voice, even over crackly-less-than-five-bars service, is just as smoky as EVAH!)

We’re back at the motel room, still strangely uncontaminated by the boys’ stuff. Dean, pacing, tells Sam about the phone call. Sam is willing to believe, but it’s Dean who needs to believe. He’s suddenly shy, about talking to The Dad, which I find hard to believe, and rather out of character. What also stands out is Sam’s lack of reaction. Surely he’d be a little more freaked that Dean is getting a call from a dead guy, let alone The Dad. Maybe he’s used to supernatural stuff happening around him all the time. Or maybe he’s playing low key, like I said earlier, to balance out Dean’s freaking out. I’d be willing to take either explanation, but I’d be a whole lot more satisfied if Sam was acting like Sam. Or if Dean, upon hearing from The Dad, expressed more than he’s doing here. You’d think he’d be over the moon! (Or maybe it’s just me and my bad mood.)

I could dig for it, and find that Dean’s really hurt that Sam’s not having a more positive reaction to The Dad calling. But I shouldn’t have to dig; this should be written wide and high across every move Sam and Dean make. But it doesn’t. Sam is just sitting there, and since Sam is peeing on Dean’s parade, Dean walks out, jacket in hand, only to return three hours later (as Sam so helpfully tells us) to discover Sam hard at work doing some research. Sam’s research results in nothing, but Dean thinks that the connection can be had in Thomas Edison’s spirit phone. While they talk, Dean’s got his hands in his pockets and he’s standing perfectly still. Okay, so, why isn’t he doing Deanish things? Why isn’t he getting some water or sitting next to Sam and shoving him out of the way so that big brother can show him how it’s done on the computer.

Instead, he’s got his head ducked down and his hands in his pockets, like he’s some guy at a car show, looking at his millionth 8-cylinder engine. Yes, he’s still interested, but the body is ready to go and chow down on some corn dogs. Normally, Dean (and Sam) are quite dynamic characters. They move about, eating or drinking or cleaning guns or packing to go someplace. It takes me a while to realize that whole ep contains the same lack of movement. It creates a sense of static dullness, which I find amazing in a show that usually has such interesting things going on and such high quality. Is it just me, this lack of staging? I can’t put everything down to a bad mood you know!

The boys go to the museum, which is a bust, but allows Sam and Dean to participate in a conversation and stand around. I’m not sure what else the scene is for except to have the boys be cute (which isn’t hard) and to have Sam actually admit that an historic object looks like a pile of junk to him. I would have expected him to be salivating over the spirit phone, wanting to touch it. Fondle it, maybe. I did get a giggle out of Dean talking about “moldies” and “freshies.” And catch Sam, he’s got his hands in his pockets. Again. Plus, Wardrobe got Sam a new jacket. It’s brown and shabby and it’s meant to look old, as if we were meant to believe that it’s a jacket he’s always had. The jacket even pools over Sam’s wrists as if the sleeves are too big because the jacket was bought second hand. The effect is amazingly cute and makes Sam young.

However, Wardrobe needs to realize that Sam is now a strapping tall lad with pecs out to there and shoulders as wide as an axe handle. We’ve seen the pictures. He can pound nails with his neck. He can decapitate a vampire man with a piece of wire and his bare hands. To pretend otherwise is to attempt to ignore the changes that Sam has gone through. To expect the audience to ignore the changes as well is to do us a disservice. We’re not blind. Oh, we’d happily go blind staring at Sam’s physique, yes indeed. But we’re not blind. (Plus, if Show wants Sam to look young and harmless? Then they need to bring back The Bangs. Get Makeup involved and check out pics of Season One. Now there, you got you some classic Samhair. With bangs.)

The next scene opens with Sammy asleep. The sheets are pale (a light spring green that always seems to signify hope), and he’s sleeping on his back, safe in the knowledge that he can trust Dean to watch over him. But that’s not what the scene is about, as fond and tender as it makes me feel. No, it’s about Dean waiting like a faithful hound for his Dad to call him back. He’s at the table, staring into the middle distance, the picture of patient devotion. His hands are fists, and he’s not moving. Not a single muscle. How long has he been sitting there? Long enough to grow dust and cobwebs I’m thinking. He doesn’t even want to risk going to bed, in case he’s so deeply asleep that he won’t hear the cell phone go off. This intensity of Dean’s, this desire to hear from his dad, I just feel for him. There’s nothing harder than waiting for a phone call, especially in what must be the wee hours of the morning.

When the phone rings, Dean is on it, moving into the bathroom as quietly as he can, because this particular rendezvous is not allowed to wake Sammy. On the phone with his dad, Dean reverts to son mode so fast my neck snaps watching it, and The Dad has plenty to say. He’s displeased that Dean sold his soul to save Sammy, and Dean begins to quiver away into a little puddle. This scene is made even more powerful because of what The Dad says to Dean, “You’re my boy. I love you. I can’t watch you go to hell, Dean” Listening to Dean reply to this, to apologize in his cracked glass voice, is so terribly sad.

The Dad, you see, is telling him exactly what he wants and needs to hear. What he needs makes him vulnerable, vulnerable because he’s not yet broken away from needing parental guidance and frankly, at this point, needs more than even Sam can give him. He wants his dad to protect him. This scene is also beautifully filmed, because as soon as The Dad says that he can’t watch Dean go to hell, Dean’s body is lit up by the light coming through the bloodred curtains. I’m certain this is not an accident. It’s obvious that we are meant to see how dangerous this phone call is, even if Dean can’t see it, even if The Dad purports to give him information on how to break Dean’s deal.

Next, we get a creepy interlude where young chick encounters her dead mom during a late night chat session. (Think that’ll teach her to not spend so much time in chat rooms? Noooooooooooooo.) Meanwhile, the next morning, Sam strolls in from somewhere (breakfast?) and the first thing he does is put his hands in his pockets. Dean tries to tell him what The Dad said. Sam is dubious, which strikes me as odd, considering how he recently said he’d do anything to help Dean out of his deal. Even if he doesn’t believe, the fact that Dean believes it should be enough for him. They’ve followed each other on blind faith before, the fact that Sam is not doing so now feels out of character for me. I do get a laugh when Dean says, “My ass is too sweet to let out of sight,” but maybe I’m missing something here. Maybe Sam’s reticence to believe comes out of the fact that he’s all out of hope and can barely breathe in and out. At any rate, he can’t take it and goes off to help the chick. Dean is furious. And hurt. The woefully sad piano chords build while Dean goes and sits in a chair to try and push the hurt back inside.

Which leads me to a point I really hate to bring up at all, but not to do so would be disingenuous. In this scene, Sam is going off to help the chick who’s been getting messages from her dead mom. I like that he wants to help, but it seems odd to me that he would go at a time like this, and I’m not just complaining about lack of togetherness on screen time here either. Some might say that Sam is leaving because he’s all pissed about the Ruby thing, but I don’t think so. Because when Sam is pissed? He lets you know it with that loud voice of his, his chin held high, and that flash of color in his face. But he doesn’t do anything like this. He slinks off with his hands in his pockets, which leads me to believe, based on the following three points, that he’s acting completely out of character in a way I have no explanation for.

Firstly, Dean’s got less than two months left till he dies. Knowing this, Sam would want to spend every minute of every day with Dean. Second, Dean’s been getting phone calls from The Dad. And while Sam is not 100% sure it’s not The Dad, he’s pretty sure that Dean is being flamboozled by someone. Or something. There’s NO way Sam is going to go off to help a stranger when something evil might be trying to get to Dean. And thirdly, and perhaps most telling of all, Dean is pissed that Sam is going off to help some random chick when Dean needs him. At first, I thought it was amusing that Dean was getting all ratty at his brother. But really? With Dean actually asking him for help (which he never does), and given points one and two, Sam would never never, never, EVER leave Dean. Not at that moment. Not to help some random chick. It’s almost as if Show suddenly and inexplicably has no idea who Sam is. Show, you need to take another look at this. I’m sorry to have to say it, but there it is.

At any rate, Sam goes to visit the chick. Even though she’s alone with her brother she lets all 6’ 4” of him across the threshold. Wouldn’t you? Sure, as a fangirl you would, all astutter and in heat, should he come to your door; and one of you would be sporting carpet burns before the night is out. But fangirl squee aside, I’d like you to consider the prospect of letting this rather scruffy, coming-out-of-nowhere-to-help-you-guy into your house when your dad is not there. You wouldn’t, really. But she does. This isn’t entirely unrealistic, because Show has had this happen in the past. Sam’s fully aware of how he comes across, so he makes himself as non-threatening as possible so he can get what he needs from her.

Then again, it’s a bit farfetched that Sam figures out what the MOW is from a single phrase (and all the other little details stacked up behind it). Well, either this is a plot hole, which I’d hate to think, or it’s just Sam. He must have a catalog of monsters in his head, and the catchphrase “come to me” triggers something off and the file drawer opens and bing, out comes the information. But later, Sam, knowing that phone calls are dangerous, is on the phone to Dean and believes everything he says. Why is he being so foolish and so unlike Sam? I call plot device because this particular phone call makes Sam go off on his own, which is the stupidest thing you can do in a horror TV show.

Soon, Sam is tied up, which means it must be Thursday! Poor Sam, has to watch yet another victim (also tied up) get whacked. (Which seems a little repetitious of Show, since we had this scenario in the most recent ep.) Watch his face while this is happening. I see him “ew-ing,” and “oh, gross-ing,” yet at the same time, he can’t hardly tear his eyes away from the train wreck that is soon to become Stewy’s dead body. (That or he’s just as human as the rest of us and can’t resist a bit of gore.)

That’s what I like about Sam. If Dean were tied up, he’d be threatening and shaking the tree. But Sam, yeah, he’s Mr. Cool, watching and adding what he’s learning to the database in his head. When the MOW comes over to torment him, he’s got a plan. Check it. Behind the chair, Sam’s working the plastic cords that his wrists are tied up with. Plastic, as you are no doubt well aware, doesn’t wear like rope would. Instead, it cuts into Sam’s flesh. But he’s a brave boy and continues on, in spite of the blood coming to the surface. That the MOW uses a bloody knife to brush Sam’s hair back from his temple is an added benefit to this particular scene. Many a fangirl would like to be able to do the same. Without the bloody knife, of course.

I like what the MOW of the week had to say about the current state of the world, in that even though we’re so connected, we’re still further apart than we’ve ever been. In the old days, we all lived around the village square or the castle courtyard or wherever. Neighbors met each day to get water from the local diseased well, or to buy day old meat at the fly-speckled butcher shop, or even swallow the swill passing for boiled beer at the local pub. It wasn’t a perfect world, but you knew your neighbors. And when one of you went missing, as the MOW describes, well, it got noticed. Today, though we talk on e-mail all time (me, I don’t know about you), and cell phones keep us connected even when we don’t want to be, when we go missing, nobody notices. They assume we’re just letting the machine pick up for us, while our body rots in a ditch somewhere.

Meanwhile, Dean is on his own, getting things out of a nearly empty Impala trunk, and going inside a strange house to set up a trap for the demon. He’s ignoring Sam’s pleas to stay put, of course, because he’s intent on finding a way out of his deal. He’s been set up to fail by the MOW. (Some bosses will do this to you. Watch out for them.) You can see it in a flash. Dean thinks he’s confronting the demon who holds his contract. The father thinks he’s confronting the man who killed his daughter. One of them is bound to die. I had my money on the father, which would add to Dean’s steaming pile of angst, but Show surprised me in a delightful way. The two men confront each other and there is a tussle. At one point, Dean has bested the father, who is on the floor, and Dean kicks him in the ribs. Then again, and again and again. And then one more time after that, just for spite. To Dean’s credit, his viciousness only comes because he thinks this is a demon. When the father is down, Dean gets out his little cheat sheet with the exorcism on it, which he starts reading. The father, not a demon, walks right out of the devil’s trap, and the two men go at it again.

When the father comes at him, in fury over the death of his daughter, Dean is clearheaded enough to realize that his is just a human being. (Not a human becoming, then?) That he takes the blows the father dishes out – man, he just crumples up and takes it. And then takes it some more. He’s even apologizing. There’s something about such a tough and capable man rolling over and taking it, but that’s the kind of man Dean is. He knows, suddenly that the whole thing is a snafu and that he’s made some very wrong choices. Not that he’s going to be crawling to Sam with abject apologies on his beautiful lips, no. But he’s giving this man, this perfect stranger, the opportunity to smash his face in.

Show gives me parallel fight scenes. Who each boy is fighting and why is a reflection of who they are, that much is obvious. Sam is fighting the MOW. He’s going at it like a hammer and tongs (what exactly does that mean, anyway?). It’s a given that the MOW will die, because this particular MOW is no match for Mr. I Can Kill Vampires With My Bare Hands Sam Winchester. But I’m not bored and this is because I did stick around for the killing blow. Which comes in the form of Sam delivering that palm-heel-to-nose-cartilage blow that sends the MOW into a spikey thing sticking out of the wall. What makes it interesting is Sam’s expression, when all of a sudden he realizes how well that particular blow works. Because he, like me, has seen this blow demonstrated, but even while knowing it works, it does look rather flimsy. It’s just your palm, how much can that hurt? If you do it right, the cartilage goes right into the brain and severs stuff up there and the person is dead. The MOW dies because of the blow and that spikey thing. Sam looks surprised and just a little sorry. It’s as if he’s saying to himself, “Boy, I’m not going to tell Dean just how easy THAT was. He already thinks I’m a killing freak.” It’s nice to see that Sam’s innocence and surprise at the world is not totally gone.

Afterwards, I am rewarded by a first aid scene. (I think Show is listening!) It’s short and it’s self-applied but it makes sense. Dean is looking in the mirror at all the cuts and bruises he got in the fight. Not that he’s worried about his looks, after all he’s going to hell soon. Besides, he knows he’s beautiful and a new scar or two will only add to this. Instead, he’s got a folded washcloth in his hand, one that he’s taken from the motel towel rack and that will soon be ruined forever by bloodstains. He’s patting (not rubbing) the blood away, trying to make the bumps go down with the cold cloth, attending to his body’s needs because that’s what hunters do. If you let cuts and scrapes go unattended, they might get infected. This might put you out of commission and how are you supposed to save anyone if you are flat on your back? Plus, I’m quite, quite sure that there’s more than one motel laundress staring a pile of bloody towels, bandage scraps, and suture ends wondering who the hell’s been playing Dr. Kildare and why did it have to be right before HER shift?

Sam, when he comes in with his bloody, raw wrists and his bashed up face does not get first aid, alas, either from his brother or from himself. This seems rather unfair to me, and unbalanced. He’s just as hurt as Dean is; why does Show do it this way? He certainly deserves it. I volunteer. (And heck, since Show is listening, I’ll suggest that next time they film the first aid scenes anyway and then add them to the “extras” section of the DVD collection.)

They talk about the MOW. Sam is sorry it wasn’t The Dad. He knows Dean wanted it to be, he wanted it to be for Dean. He’s so very gentle here, so low key and soft, you know he’s hurting, both for Dean and for himself. I kept expecting him to say what he’s wanted to say the entire ep: “Enough of this bulls$$t, Dean. Enough wasting our time, chasing our tails, doing for other people. I’ve had enough. We need to concentrate on you now.” But as Dean pointed out in the opening of the ep, what’s the point? What’s the use. He’s given up fighting, which is 180 degrees from where he was the last time a Reaper tried to get at him. Then, he wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. Now? Well, he’s going down and he wants to do it quietly. Me, I think he wants to spare Sam any anguish and grief.

A thin sheet of ice is all that stands between Dean and a total breakdown. Sam’s control is no less tremulous. Sam watches Dean like he might a loose snake, because he knows that if Dean goes, he goes too. So he says, to Dean’s comment, “Me too.” Naturally, Dean makes a joke. “The moment has passed,” he says, and then he hands Sam a beer and gets one for himself. Naturally Dean opens his beer with his ring, and naturally, the brothers sit side by side (almost knee to knee) on the motel beds in a way that is reminiscent of the scene at Christmas, when they sat like that in silence.

While I like that Show is repeating this theme, I think that the fact that Dean is closer to the end of his time would warrant something a bit more potent. We’ve seen Dean and Sam sitting in silence sharing a beer, and I love that this is how Show demonstrates the closeness between our boys. Because truly, what is more comfortable than that? What says more about real, underlying and fundamental love than the ability to just sit there with someone and not say a damn word? At the same time, the urgency of Dean’s timeline indicates to me that something more is called for.

Overall I liked that Show brought the whole Ruby issue to light and by had Dean admit he’s scared. However, I felt that Dean was a tad too calm about the whole thing, even when he thought he was talking to The Dad. I wanted Sam’s hair to be more wavy. This whole straight hair not in his eyes thing has got to go. I wanted boys actively working on a way to get Dean out of his deal, not just referring to it. I wanted some fallout from what happened to Sam during the hundred Tuesdays; I wanted to see the matching tattoos come into the light with purpose. But mostly I wanted the boys to be in character, moving around motel rooms, bumping into each other, and being their brotherly selves, not just two talking heads from some badly written fanfiction. But why should I expect some TV show to respond to my needs like this? Well I’ll tell you why. Because it has in the past. Because Kripke’s always come through. Because I’ve got a tattoo that says I’m Kripke’s Bitch on it, and below that is a huge blue outline of a tear. It’s quite a nice tat, I think. I’d like to be able to keep it. Meanwhile, I think I’ll walk around with my hands, in pockets.

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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