Be Careful What You Wish For: Dean in the Pilot

[briarwood]

It’s difficult to write about Dean as he was at the beginning of Supernatural, without being influenced by the man he became. But the pilot is a good place to start.

Dean is four years old when we first meet him, a normal, happy boy who loves his parents and his baby brother. That first, short scene where young Dean helps put baby Sammy to bed tells us everything we need to know about what Dean lost: He kisses his baby brother good night with no trace of self-consciousness; he runs into his daddy’s arms with such enthusiasm and he laughs comfortably at John’s joke. Presumably (though this we do not see) this scene is followed by Mary and John putting Dean to bed with just as much affection.

What woke Dean that night? We can only guess, but it seems likely that it was the same thing that woke John: Mary screaming. It’s difficult to imagine what that night was like for such a young child; he crawls out of bed because he knows something is wrong only to find his daddy shoving his baby brother into his arms and yelling at him to get outside. It’s unclear how much of what happened in the nursery Dean actually saw. In Home he tells Sam he remembers the fire, but there’s a significant pause in his retelling, as if there’s more he is unable to speak aloud. There is also that moment at the end of the pilot episode when Jessica dies, and Dean bursts into the room and for a brief moment he stands transfixed by what his happening to her, as if he’s forgotten Sam is even present. It’s only with hindsight that we can know how strongly Dean must have felt to hesitate like that, and it’s this that makes me believe young Dean did, in fact, see his mother up there on the ceiling.

This terrified boy carries the baby outside. He says, It’s okay, Sammy, the words a hope, a need to reassure the baby brother who can’t yet understand what he is saying. The moment frames so much of the man Dean is to become: his instinct even then is to save and protect his baby brother. There’s something else, though. At the end of the flashback we see John, Dean and Sam together on the hood of the Impala, while firemen try to douse the blaze. Dean seems to be watching the firemen work but he’s also huddled against John’s side. John is cradling baby Sammy in his arms and both of his arms are thus occupied. Dean, who has just lost his mother and his home, isn’t even held by his father. This, too, seems to set a pattern for so much of what follows in Dean’s life.

Twenty two years later that little boy is all grown up…but behind the brash front, the musclecar and the cock rock we can still see the boy who suffered that childhood tragedy. Dean’s defining characteristic, right from the beginning, is loyalty to his family. When he receives John’s voicemail Dean goes straight to Sam in Stanford. Their first conversation implies that Sam and Dean had some disagreement in the past (Dean asks If I’d called, would you have picked up? as if he believes the unspoken answer is no) but he still expects Sam to react to the news in the same way he has himself: drop everything and go search for Dad.

I wonder how worried Dean really was at that point? He was worried about John, no doubt about that. But the part of John’s voicemail that is most clear of static is the end of it:

Be very careful, Dean. We’re all in danger.

I suspect those are the words that sent Dean to Stanford, and that he was worried about Sam as much as John at that point. Throughout the hunt in Jericho, there is a sense that Dean truly believed that if he could get Sam back into the hunting life, Sam would stick around. This is Dean’s dearest hope: to have his brother back again, to have his family all together again. For a few days, he has what he wants, but Sam repeatedly makes it clear that he intends to return to Stanford, and to his life there, as soon as the weekend is over.

At first sight, Dean is a typical boy-who-never-grew-up. His car is a penis extension. He listens to AC/DC, Motorhead and Metallica; Dean is too young to have discovered such bands in their early popularity so this, like so much about him, seems like something adopted for the cool factor rather than primarily because he enjoyed it. He’s defensive as hell when called on it:

SAM: I swear man; you gotta update your cassette-tape collection.
DEAN: Why?
SAM: Well, for one, they’re cassette tapes and two… Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It’s the greatest hits of mullet rock.
DEAN: House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.

Dean has a very brash attitude to most things: he bluffs his way through the encounter with the cops on the bridge. When he’s arrested at the motel he not only gives the arresting officer some major sass, but continues it in the interview room:

COP: So. Fake US Marshal, fake credit cards. You got anything that’s real?
DEAN: My boobs.

and later…

COP: So you want to give us your real name?
DEAN: I told you, it’s Nugent. Ted Nugent.
COP: I’m not sure you realise just how much trouble you’re in here.
DEAN: We talking like misdemeanour kind of trouble? Or “squeal like a pig” kind of trouble?
COP: You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall. Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect.
DEAN: That makes sense. ‘Cause when the first one went missing in ‘82, I was three.

Yet just how much of this is a front can be seen clearly just after the exchange above. Dean is relatively relaxed, despite being in an interrogation room and under arrest. It’s clearly not his first time in such a situation, and he’s confident he’ll get out of it. But the moment the cop slams John’s journal down on the table, everything changes for Dean. The bravado begins to crack. Though he continues to put up a good front for the cop, the knowledge that John has left town clearly weighs on him. There are no more jokes, and when he escapes from the cops he’s all business, all about finishing the hunt so he can follow the order John has left for him. It’s all he wants: to be with his family.

Which brings me neatly around to Dean-the-hunter. As a hunter, Dean in the pilot is an interesting mix of contradictions. He’s good at the job, in that he knows how to investigate a case, he knows how to follow the trail and once they’ve identified the ghost he knows what they need to do about it. And yet he makes some silly mistakes, too.

DEAN: You fellas had another one just like this last month, didn’t you?
COP: Who are you?
DEAN: [Flips open a wallet to show a fake US Marshal badge] Federal Marshals.
COP: You two are a little young for Marshals, aren’t you?
DEAN: Thanks, that’s awfully kind of you.

The attempt to impersonate a federal marshal is foolish: Dean is, as the cop points out, too young, especially with an even younger man at his side. Perhaps he’s pulled off the deception in the past, with John taking the lead. Though he talks his way through it, he knows they don’t completely believe him. Yet in his own element - talking with the two girls about the missing boy, Troy - Dean conducts the interview skilfully, gaining their confidence, going straight for the information he needs without making them suspicious.

DEAN: [Interrupting Sam] Okay thank you, Unsolved Mysteries. Here’s the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared: something’s not right. So if you’ve heard anything…
[Amy and her friend exchange a glance]
DEAN: What is it?
FRIEND: Well, it’s just…with all these guys going missing, people talk.
SAM and DEAN together: What do they talk about?

When the brothers catch up with their ghost Dean really shows his mettle as a hunter. He’s good. He is without his car, so I have no idea how Dean reached the scene so quickly (Did he steal a car? Or run?) Since most of his weapons are in the car Sam is driving, when Dean finds Sam under attack, his options are limited. He may give Sam shit about scratching his car, but he doesn’t hesitate to shoot out the window when he thinks Sam is in danger. In other words, there’s no confusion about Dean’s priorities. Sam’s safety comes first, even ahead of the car we later learn is so precious to him. I’m betting the gun was loaded with iron rounds, since they seem to reserve the rock salt for the shotguns.

Finally, there is the drive back to Stanford, and here Dean’s pain is a palpable thing. Jensen Ackles turned in a fantastic performance, especially considering he couldn’t have known the character too well at this stage of filming. Dean has been shown everything he wants; and he has to give it back. Yet, he does give it back: he doesn’t even argue. He drives Sam back to Stanford and though both brothers give lip service to the idea of staying in contact, it’s clear Dean doesn’t believe that they will. He is resigned to going back on the road, and searching for his father alone. It hurts like hell, but he’s ready to do it.

Until the fire. The original script for the pilot had Dean seeing signs of a demonic presence, prompting him to return to Sam’s apartment. In the aired episode that scene was cut, so it’s unclear why Dean returns, breaking the door open just in time. When he reaches Sam’s bedroom Dean freezes for an instant, seeing Jessica on the ceiling, engulfed by fire. It’s exactly the way Mary died: a childhood nightmare relived and made horribly real. Once again, Dean carries Sam out of the room to safety.

The scene outside the building is almost a mirror of the scene following Mary’s death, with faces bathed in scarlet light from fire engines. John is physically absent, but Dean has stepped into his role: taking care of Sammy once again.

Finally, Sam is going to rejoin Dean on the road. Dean has what he wished for…but it’s a sure bet that the price is much too high.

Crossposted from my blog at Devil's Trap. You can comment here or on the blog.