Supernatural: 99 Problems

A Good Man Is Good To Find
by Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review – Season 5, Episode 17
“99 Problems”

I’d say that if the boys actually did have only 99 problems on any given day, that they’d be having a mighty fine day. An easy day. Perhaps a Saturday (or Caturday, if you prefer), where the only object would be to laze about in their jammies, watching cartoons (or perhaps porn), eating cereal directly of the box, and not worrying about crumbs.

Alas, this is not that Saturday, nor that Thursday either. In fact the ep opens with the boys blazing down a two-lane blacktop road, on the run from a swarm of demons, which is one of the most engaging openings I’ve seen on Show in a long time. I was hooked right away. (Actually there’s no official collective noun for what you call a group of demons, but swarm seemed appropriate.) By the speedometer, I actually think Dean is going 110 miles an hour. (Which if you’ve ever gone it, is really freaking fast.) Beside him, in the passenger seat, Sam is bleeding. Already, it’s a good day, at least for me.

How and where Sam and Dean encounter the swarm of demons is never made clear, but that is unimportant since the result is still the same: Sam and Dean were fighting together. That’s key to me because Sam and Dean need to fight together to win the war, whether or not they are willing participants in the battle. And back to that whole “Sam is bleeding,” thing, I really liked the interaction between the brothers. Dean says, “Are you okay?” and Sam, grimacing and holding down hard on himself to staunch the flow of blood says, with a wiry grimace, “I’m amazing.”

Well, yes, Sam you are amazing, and very adorable when you’re bleeding. Just wanted you to know that. But, also, Show inserts a little moment of comedy, played by Padalecki with brilliant timing. And, juxtaposed against the quick getaway from the demons, the comedy becomes a bright, little fleck of light. Show repeats this effect throughout the episode, giving us the perfect contrast, a balance between light and dark. It’s more effective that way, because if you have all dark, or all light, it gets very boring, very fast.

So we don’t know how Sam was wounded exactly (and I’m peeved at the lack of on-screen first aid for the dear boy), but the boys end up in a town that’s been made into a militia base for tracking and killing demons. This is all kinds of cool, for all kinds of reasons.

First, the boys are rescued by some huntery types who dress a lot like the boys do, and one of whom looks an awfully lot like ruggedly handsome Dennis Quaid, who I love to watch in pretty much any role he plays. The huntery types also have a fire engine apparatus loaded with holy water for hosing down those naughty demons, and they know how to perform with deft ease. And second, because the militia camp is in Blue Earth, Minnesota. Which is not only the previous abode of Pastor Jim from the ep “Salvation”, it is also one of the dang coolest names for a town I have ever heard, so cool that it makes me want to go there. Sadly, Pastor Jim is not mentioned during this ep as ever having been, which I thought was a missed opportunity for a bit of continuity.

Blue Earth has developed a fighting force, and locates demons by virtue of a young prophet who is able to talk to angels. Leah recognizes Sam and Dean as who they are right away, and while Sam seems appropriately shocked and amazed, Dean flirts a bit before he can stop himself. She says stuff about demons, and he says, “You’re not the first prophet we’ve met, but you are the cutest.” Then he half apologizes to the girl’s father (the local padre, who, I must point out, wears a very hot thigh holster), still smirking a bit.

What’s cool here is that this is exactly in character for Dean. He’s a flirt, and a good one, and he likes to take up opportunities for getting noogie when they present themselves to him. It’s one of the ways he feeds his soul, along with eating pie, driving the Impala, and being with Sam. Score another hit for this episode: characters consistently behave in character. Which doesn’t sound like all that big of a deal, except that Show sometimes flails about with this and doesn’t quite hit the mark. Not this time, Show hits it every single minute; every single character knows who they are and what they want to say.

The Blue Earth group knows everything hunter should know, how to make salt bullets, how to fill plastic jugs with holy water, how to have a shotgun wedding, where literally every member of the attendees carries a shotgun, how to prepare for the coming apocalypse. I liked the idea that there was a group of people banding together to fight demons.

I especially liked Sam’s hair as the boys stand in the back of the church at the wedding. It’s got that side part going on, and a sweet sweep of hair beside his eyebrows. It’s thick and full and looks like it’s soft as mink. I’m not terribly keen on the pointy, forward-thrusting sideburns, but figured that if Dean’s the one cutting Sam’s hair (which is what I picture going on), then Dean is cutting Sam’s hair to suit himself. Pointy, forward-thrusting, rock-n-roll sideburns seem to be in keeping with that.

Anyway, the boys go the local bar, which, of course, being who they are, is what they do. (It’s the perfect grotty, mid-Western bar, all dark wood and sawdust and good old fashioned cheap beer.) More bright flickering spots of comedy ensue, courtesy of Sam being on the phone with the Soap Angel. Sam is trying to leave a message that they need info or help or whatever. And he looks really pretty on the phone, with that blue-green plaid shirt, and his hair hanging so cutely in his eyes.

On the other end is the Soap Angel, who for some reason cracks me up whenever he’s interacting with a cell phone. I don’t like the Soap Angel all that much, for the same reasons I don’t like Magical Bobby: too much emphasis is placed on these secondary characters. So why am I laughing? Because it’s funny, that’s why, though comedy is sometimes hard to explain.

The Soap Angel’s answering machine message has sounds, which are a little bit like confused swearing, and “I don’t understand. Why…why do you want me to say my name?” followed by the noises of more buttons being pushed than are necessary, and the final beep. The Soap Angel doesn’t get technology, but since the tattoos on the boy’s ribs hide them from both angels and demons, the only way he can connect with the boys is via cell phone, which is the boy’s preferred form of communication.

But the Soap Angel doesn’t get the idea of phones (let alone cell phones) because for an angel, I think, typical communication is instantaneous, without the physical need for an instrument to talk through. I think that for the angel, talking on the cell phone is like what it would be for someone who’d grown up with touch-screen technology having to suddenly use the keyboard to enter a run command in an MS-Dos Command Prompt to create a pre-historic version of an e-mail. The swearing would soon ensue, and this type of frustration is always hilarious.

Sam and Dean have a dither at one of the tables. Sam’s Samhair is in full force, making his face look all sculpted, with his strong, manly jawline coming across to me like an erotic shock. Oh, dear me, his mouth is so rosy and sweet, and he just keeps moving it as he talks. And as for Dean, he’s lit up and all green eyed and sparkly, and his eyebrows say yes, yes, while his lips say no, no, and it’s almost too much. Really, both of them being this beautiful at the same time should be against the law. What are they talking about? Oh, yes.

They’re dithering about the situation, and why all the demons are in town, and what they should do about it. The usual stuff. But I really had a hard time listening to what they were saying, because they were drinking beer (yeah, I’m going to talk about how pretty they were again.), and at the end, Dean does something with his mouth. Here’s how it goes. Leah has found some more demons, and as the bells ring for people to assemble, Sam says, “You wanna go to church? Dean replies with a sarcastic, “You know me. Downright pious.” Then, to make the point at the end of the sentence, he takes a swig of his beer. And when I say he takes a swig, I mean he kisses the lip of the beer bottle with his beautiful mouth. I’m not kidding here, I almost had a heart attack. You can’t do that on television, can you? It isn’t decent. (Ackles is probably going, “It was just a fumble, reviewer!” To which I would reply, “I would prefer to view it through a more erotic filter, thank you just the same Mr. A.”)

The militia have detected a swarm of demons and Sam and Dean volunteer to join in the hunt. Or rather, Dean raises his hand to volunteer them both, and Sam stands there all stoic and long legged, and dips his dark head in agreement. (The Samhair continued to distract me in a very pleasing way throughout the episode, a fact which I’m sure comes as no surprise to anyone.)

The hunt takes place in a house in the middle of nowhere. Now, normally, I do not like most action scenes because they typically tend to come off as a muddled, herky-jerky mess that’s only in there because some corporate suit dictated that an action series must involve a fight scene in every ep. I’m sure that the stunt guys and gals like getting something to do, but far too often, the action/fight scenes do little to really forward the plot. But here I thought it did.

First up, because the battle itself was interesting. Here Sam and Dean are fighting in a group of experienced huntery types. There’s shooting and killing and the boys not only rescue but are rescued, by people who are willing to watch the backs of everyone in the team, because that’s what you do in times like these. Sam and Dean are good hunters, but so is everyone else, and the camera (and the script, also) decided to focus on the boys at least half the time, dipping away to see what everyone was doing, but always coming back to the boys. Dean gets in several nice shots, but what I really liked was Sam’s work with the demon killing knife.

Remember the Pilot episode, where Sam packs that sharp little scythe in his duffle bag? We’ve never seen it since then, but it planted in my brain the idea that Sam prefers to fight in a hand-to-hand way, rather than from a distance with a rifle or a shotgun. Okay, sure, sometimes he likes to be at a distance from the monsters, and who wouldn’t.

But in a situation like this, and with a guy who really could exorcise all those demons with just a twitch of his handsome brain, I think he really likes fighting with the demon killing knife. It lets him express his rage, and really get in there, up close and oh, so personal. When he really gets going, like he does in this scene, he moves like a graceful athlete (Samhair flying!), so watching him fight was a joy unto my eyes. (And props too, to the team who developed the choreography for the fight scene, it was eye-catching, interesting, not overly long, and moved the plot forward. Plus, you know, Sam and Dean fighting, yeah!)

At the end of the fight, as they all stride away from the battle with insouciant ease, Sam says, “I guess that’s what it’s like having backup.” The idea here is that usually Sam and Dean fight alone or with each other, or sometimes with an annoyingly intrusive secondary character, who is not always the most experienced of fighters. Here, they are in a group of people who know what they hell they are doing, which is quite a change for them. Does this perhaps lay the groundwork for the idea that in the coming final battle that they will have to join forces and be less isolated? Or was it simply a tease for them and for me of what it might feel like for them not to be not so all alone? Once you’ve tasted camaraderie like that, it would be very hard to go back to fighting on your own.

One of the young hunters wants to catch a ride back to town in the Impala, and who can blame him; I’ve been waiting for my chance for years. Sam and Dean fold the boy to their metaphorical bosoms, tossing out acceptance along with a can of beer. (The gesture where the boys toast each other with a clink of beer cans was beautifully underplayed.) Alas, what you can’t see is that the lad is wearing a Red Shirt, which leads to him getting whacked by a demon who’d been hiding under the Impala. (The undercarriage will have to be totally sanitized now.)

I think the death of the young man (Dillon) might have personalized the battle for Dean, as I had the feeling that Dean felt like Dillon could have been a young Dean. Anyway, the death leads to much sadness and prayers, drama, and, lo and behold, it moves the plot forward. The prophet has a vision and steps forward and announces that the group will all be chosen by heaven, and that the mother of the dead boy will see her baby in heaven, if…yeah, if. Then the prophet lays down all kinds of rules, tightening some sort of noose that heretofore now had been invisible.

Remember the comedy I mentioned earlier? Well, Sam and Dean come out of the church after the funeral. Sam lists off those things which are now forbidden by the angels, according to the prophet: no drinking, no gambling, no pre-marital sex. Dean’s shaking his head, because, since when have any of those kinds of rules ever applied to him? And Sam says, “Dean, they basically just outlawed 90% of your personality.” This funny little quip (beautifully timed and perfectly reacted to) rather distracts the viewer (me) from the underlying problem here: these kinds of rules are laid down when someone wants to have control over someone else. But the little comment Sam makes is not only funny, it’s effective, because it’s distracts me (at least for a bit) from the main point, which is, where is this all heading and why would someone feel the need to control these kinds of things?

Sam and Dean separate, but that was okay, because each boy got his own scene, both of which moved the plot and established the creepy feeling that all was not well. Dean goes to visit the prophet. He heard her little speech in church, and now he wants to hear it, without the rainbows, please. He wants the real truth. She gives it to him (about the holy showdown), and I’m not going to say I knew it was her, but I kept getting weird vibes that seemed to be established by her weird hair (who parts it in the middle like that?) and makeup (eyebrows, overly plucked) and clothing (ill-fitting, even on such a cute little figure). Anyway, she tells him that the earth will end in fire and brimstone, and only the chosen will survive. Dean doesn’t seem to be affected by the fact that he is among the chosen, because, as we know, he doubts very much that he is worthy of anything resembling God’s love, etc. It’s a very serious scene.

Sam, on the other hand, goes to the bar. The barkeep must get rid of his stock, since what he sells has just been outlawed. The barkeep offers up conversation about holy rollers and not being a hypocrite, and offers Sam a shot of whiskey. They toast each other and down the shots, and then Sam takes the shot glass and very carefully sets it to one side. I didn’t know whether the gesture was emphasized because Sam wanted to resist the temptation of having another shot (and he does tend to have an addictive personality) or whether the bolt of whiskey had hit him harder than he expected. Either way, the strong, long-wristed gesture by Sam is very artistic.

Back in the motel room, Dean is waiting for Sam. He’s sitting up in bed, and in walks, or rather, in staggers Sam. It was the perfect fannish moment. I can’t even begin to tell you how many fics there are out there where this exact scene happens, where one brother goes out to drink, and the other one is a tad irritated when the drunken one returns. Sam staggers only a little, and soon, the dither ensues. (And both boys are wearing green shirts, with their shirtsleeves rolled up, and just….thank you to the Costume Team, because I really like them looking like this. Green is a good color for both of them.)

Dean is more tired than irritated, so Sam is not really in trouble. Sam, now relaxed with the drink, tells Dean about the lack of cell connection, cable, and internet, and how it cuts them from the “corruption of the outside world.” (The quote marks are Sam’s.) Dean isn’t concerned, so Sam sits on the bed opposite Dean’s and the boys have a little dither on the motel beds. Sam points out the direction the town is taking and how, with all the new rules in place, they will soon be drinking cool aid. Sam sees it for what it is, that this type of control often leads to isolation and other cultish behavior.

As is typical with him, he sees the big picture, and the broad-ranging implications of this type of group dynamic. (See what I mean about the characters being in character?) Dean (also in character) seems to feel that it’s not a big deal, maybe they should stop fighting, he can’t bring himself to care a whole lot, and I can see why. Dean doesn’t follow anyone’s rules but his own, and besides which, if he doesn’t like the view, he can always hop in the Impala and drive off. Sam tells Dean he doesn’t want to do it alone, as he feels he might have to, and Dean takes off. But the difference here is, instead of storming off, he actually lets Sam know that he needs some fresh air, which tells Sam that he will be back. (Which means the brothers are getting along even better than they did last week. Even if they’re disagreeing, they’re still sticking together.)

Into the motel room stumbles the Soap Angel, who Sam quickly realizes is drunk. So now you’ve got a Deanless Sam, still recovering from his shots of whiskey at the bar, and a Soap Angel who is three sheets to the wind. Angels, as you know, wouldn’t normally reach for alcohol to numb themselves from the horrors of their daily grind, because typically they would be saturated with the glory of adoring God.

I totally didn’t expect this scene, which involves Sam and the Soap Angel being thrust together in an unexpected, slightly tipsy, and intimate tete-a-tete. (My friend in Alaska was thrilled when the Soap Angel leaned in close to whisper in Sam’s ear. She thought it was very slashy, to which I replied, yeah, you and the other three Castiel/Sam fans out there, har har.) But I thought it was more interesting that the Soap Angel, who heretofore this had very little to do with Sam, now suddenly gets a full blown scene with him. Not that the scene wasn’t interesting, because it was just unusual, you see.

Anyway, the Soap Angel tells Sam that Leah is not a prophet at all. I thought, oh, thank goodness, the chick was creeping me out, and now Sam and Dean will kill her, and maybe we’ll get a funny little scene with the Soap Angel recovering from his encounter with a fifth of Jack. Which is what happens, only not in the way that you would expect. Which I liked because sometimes, as you know, TV stuff is so darn easy to predict.

Meanwhile, while Dean is out and about, he discovers a fracas at the bar. The barkeep is under attack for being a sinner who by selling his wares would keep them all from being among the chosen. (Leah had earlier been wailing that there were sinners among them who must be destroyed. The townspeople in true lemming form are happy to comply.) Dean tries to calm everyone down, and I had a feeling he wanted to get the barkeep out of there, but the mother of the dead boy shoots the barkeep, and Dean soon arrives back at the motel with blood on his hands. (And, of course, “Out, out, damn spot,” flitted through my brain.)

Dean calmly washes his hands, which is a perfectly normal activity after someone dies in your arms. After which the Soap Angel, in a cranky, hung-over tone of voice, announces that Leah is nothing more than the Whore of Babylon. (And seriously, drunk, hung-over Soap Angel makes me giggle like crazy.) Apparently It rises when the apocalypse is upon the earth to hasten the death of many innocent people, etc. I love Dean’s reaction, because I think he thought that the Soap Angel was being a little harsh in calling It a whore.

Of course it’s not a real whore, it’s a metaphorical whore. It’s not even a real person, it’s an allegorical figure of evil that has been used to describe everything from the greedy passions in ancient Rome to a false spiritual queen to even Jerusalem itself. Regardless of the ways the term has been twisted and used to smear those cultures or societies or power structures that someone wanted everyone to turn against, it’s a symbol in the bible that bad times have come, and innocent people are going to suffer.

The lads and the Soap Angel discuss that the only way to kill the Whore is to kill It with a stake made from the branches of a cypress tree that grew in Babylon (now in present-day Iraq). The Soap Angel has this wonderfully tired hung-over air as he hands the stake over; I don’t like the Soap Angel for far too many reasons than need repeating here, but I did like him in this ep, and especially in this scene.

The Soap Angel tells the gang that the only person who can slay the Whore is a true servant of heaven. Dean asks, “A servant like—” The Soap Angel lists each one of them off with a kind of desperate tiredness that had this little undercurrent of funny running through it. “Not you, or me,” he says, and then continues quite kindly with, “Sam of course is an abomination.” The camera’s on Sam for the reaction shot, a little squirmy grimace, and yet another flicker of brightness in this ep that’s really about the end of the world. The comedy is deft and appropriate throughout, and in this scene, Collins sets it up, and Padalecki knocks it out of the park.

After Leah babbles in the church, leading her lemmings, the Soap Angel fetches the padre, who, of course, is a true servant of heaven. When the padre asks why the angel can’t do it, I liked the slouch in the Soap Angel’s shoulders as he admits that he’s a poor example of one. And Dean’s quasi pep talk to the Soap Angel was also a nice touch.

They gang has a little trouble convincing the padre that his little girl isn’t his little girl, but they manage it. However, their plan goes awry. There’s chasing and fighting and Samhair flying, and the padre and Sam and the Soap Angel are quickly out of commission. There’s even a Tossing of the Dean, and quickly the Whore straddles Dean, and starts a little name calling and regular demonic nastiness, and I thought, okay, sure, Dean kills It, it’s all good here.

Dean is on his back, being choked (because, after all, it is Thursday). The name calling involves the usual concepts of Dean and his self-loathing, and although he’s probably used to it by now, it’s still coming at him like a Mack truck. Then the Whore says something interesting, in that Dean is probably just going to sit back and passively watch the end of the world.

At that moment, Dean’s whole demeanor changes. The light shifts in his eyes, and he sort of tightens up his entire being and shoves the cedar stake through Its heart. His face is clear and straight and severe and terribly focused. Typical stuff, right? Dean saves the day, ta-da! (And need I mention this swoon worthy moment? When Dean kills the Whore, there’s this little breeze that lifts Sam’s hair and tosses it about. Which was just the perfect little finish to this scene.)

But it occurs to me while Dean is killing the Whore that there was more than one level to the “ah-ha” moment that Dean seems to have. Viscerally, he gets the satisfaction he often does when killing something evil; it’s his “gotcah, bitch!” moment. Then, on a deeper level, there’s this flash that goes across Dean’s face that reflects his sudden awareness that he is the one that needs to do this saving the world thing. And indeed, saving everyone is something that Dean has talked about many times in the past. He considers it to be his personal bailiwick, which he and only he is responsible for. Thusly, this is what he must do. All of this is conveyed in a flicker of a second. The credit for that flash and the multilayer meaning that came to me I credit entirely to Ackles, who I have called the Man of a Thousand Expressions, and for good reason, such as the scene I just described.

As they pick up the drooping padre, Sam and Dean brotherly exchange looks of a particular nature, somewhat different than their usual “you okay?” looks. This time, they seem to be saying, “Did you see that? Do you understand it?” It’s heart rendering to see this pair of matching expressions on their faces, especially after all they’ve been through. And that is because, like I’ve said before, in spite of everything, they are still brothers who have lived in each other’s pockets since day one, and who know the dark places in each other’s soul, and who know what matters. That they’ve come to this point, well, it speaks of their brotherly love and the dire nature of the situation.

Only when everyone stumbles out of the basement, does Sam point out the obvious. He asks, “Dean, how did you do that?” Dean replies, “My long rung of luck held out, I guess.” Then Sam points it out: “Last I checked, she could only be ganked by servant of heaven.”

I had a little moment of shock there, because you know what this means, right? That what all the Deangirls (and all the Samgirls too, for that matter) knew was true: Dean has a halo. He always has, and he always will. That for all his drinking and tomcatting around, his soul is so pure that it cannot be tainted, so totally and completely pure, so untarnished and untarnishable, that both sides of this war will do anything, anything to get it under their control. (But you know what’s going to keep that from happening, right? Yeah. Sam. Sam and Dean staying together is what’s going to save us all.)

As they pile into the car, Sam asks: “Are you going to do something stupid…like Michael stupid?” Sam’s expression is dark and his forelock shadows his eyes from the street light. He’s holding really still while he waits for Dean’s answer. And that’s because Sam understands the implications as well as Dean does. Perhaps better, since his viewpoint is more objective than Dean’s in this. Dean, for his part, is standing inside of it. You can see it in his face, looking sweet and wide eyed across the top of the Impala. There’s a lot he’s not saying, but Sam is able to hear it just the same; again there’s conversation without dialog, which I put to the credit of Ackles and Padalecki bringing the goods to this quick little scene.

After Dean takes Sam and company back to the motel, there is a little first aid scene for the padre. That’s a little black mark for this ep, just a tiny one, but it’s there. And that’s because Sam didn’t get any first aid, why on earth is Show spending time for first aid for a secondary character? At the very least, the fact that Sam’s doing the first aid while the dialog goes on around him means that he is in the scene, as opposed to being outside, or hung on a towel rack to dry.

Dean leaves, as he says, to get some clean bandages. Sam knows something is up long before he hears the familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine. Sure enough, Dean takes off, leaving Sam bereft and pretty sure about what Dean intends to do. (Run, Sammy run! Oh, too late.) Dean, oddly, heads out to visit Lisa. (And is accompanied by some very beautiful background music.) For those not in the know, at one time, many years ago, Dean hooked up with Lisa. Years later, Dean rolled into town again, and suspected that the son Lisa bore (Ben) was his own. Testing proved that Dean was not the father, but in the meantime, a bond was born.

Apparently Dean has thought about Lisa over the years, and goes to see her. In fact he admits to her that when he thinks of settling down and being happy, he thinks about doing it with her. I loved listening to him say this. I love the expression on his face and the angst in his eyes that turned them so green and bright, with love and affection for Lisa streaming out all over the place. I always felt that Lisa would be good for him because she wouldn’t try to make him into something he wasn’t. She would be the reason that settling down would become a positive option for Dean. I like images of the boy on the road until the 12th of Never, but if he’s going to settle down, then it should be with someone like Lisa. (Same with Sam and Madison, before her untimely death. Or Sarah, let’s not forget her.)

The only problem I had was that, outside of a dream sequence in “Dream a Little Dream of Me”, where Lisa appears on a picnic blanket, Dean’s never mentioned her. Now, granted, he’s not the type to openly discuss his inner workings, but still, if Show was going to have this kind of heart-revealing (almost chick flick) moment with a specific character, than said character should have been mentioned more often. You can’t just fling her at us like this, Show! (Although really, better Lisa than any other woman.)

Anyway, Dean’s wearing his leather jacket, which harkens back to the early days, as he hasn’t been wearing it all the time in more recent eps. And he looks so Deanish with those adorable faint purple smudges around his eyes, standing there a little diffidently, not letting her welcome him in, not for an hour, not even long enough to drink a beer. Sadly, it’s quite obvious what Dean is doing. He’s delivering a message, which he does in very couched terms: “The people that I’m going to see next, they’re not going to get anything from me without agreeing to a few conditions.” Which means making sure that Lisa and Ben are taken care of, that Magical Bobby, and Missouri, and Chuck, et al, are all taken care of.

Chief in Dean’s list of people, in fact, first in line, is probably Sam, as if Sam, in Dean’s mind, will play no part in what’s to come. In a previous review I postulated that each brother would say yes to ensure that the other brother wouldn’t have to, rather like Spartacus and Antoninus wanted to kill the other one first to save him from the slow death of crucifixion. I don’t think that that’s what’s happening here anymore, but rather that Dean feels if he does this, using Sam as Lucifer’s meatsuit will no longer be an option.

And that’s because Dean is simply, in his mind, not going to lose. Not when the stakes involve saving the entire of the gabillion people on the planet. So yeah, I think he’s going to do it. Do I want him to? No. Dean has gone through enough, has been through enough, not to mention what that’s going to do to Sam. Do I think the outcome will be good? Well, as the Scarecrow said, “It’s going to get darker before it gets lighter.”

So this is how I see it going. I have no insight, no advance copy of the script, so I do not know for sure. But it feels like everything is pointing to the yes moment for Dean, both the timing (after killing the Whore) and the buildup (it’s been the topic of conversation for a great long while now), and his decision now to warn Lisa as best he can, and his plan to look for those he loves. It’s not like he’s trading his soul for their safety, but he’s not doing this servant of heaven thing without a solid guarantee that they’re going to be alright.

This episode was terribly good in all the ways that matter. The characterization was spot on, the set design and makeup and wardrobe all supported the story rather than detracting from it. Ackles and Padalecki were On Fire. The episode had everything it needed to have, and nothing it didn’t. Everything came together, and nothing was wasted. Show, you bring me joy this week. Thank you.

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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