White letters on a black background informed us that it was Week One. We see the boys sitting in Rufus’ cabin – the one that Bobby had them take over when his house was destroyed. Dean is sitting on the couch, Sam on a chair, and they look…wrecked. Hollowed out. They’re bleary-eyed, wan. They both look like they can’t quite take a full breath; as if the weight of their grief has paralyzed them, leaving them without a path, a course. Dean’s eyes are red-rimmed, but dry. Sam looks all of twelve, gripping his scarred hand.
They steal looks at each other when they other isn’t looking. As if each is checking to see if his brother is okay, or still there, or if this is real. *rubs heart*
Week Two and Dean’s looking at the numbers Bobby wrote on Sam’s hand: 45489. He’s drinking from a tumbler, his face drawn tight, eyes dark. There is a list of crossed-out possibilities for what the numbers represent on the pad of paper in his hand. Sam’s up, in the kitchen, looking at Bobby’s address book. They room around them is still a vacuum; you get the impression that they only leave the cabin and each other’s presence when absolutely necessary – food runs, showers, sleeping in shifts.
By Week Three, Dean’s up, having created his own ‘wall of weird’ with Leviathan movement and newspaper articles and locations – very reminiscent of the wall they found in John’s motel room in the Pilot and Sam’s wall when Wednesday came around in Mystery Spot. It’s a hunter’s wall and Dean has waded as best he can through suffocating grief to numb acceptance and is now well on his way to blinding, rage-filled revenge.
Sam is in the kitchen, getting a beer from the fridge. To Dean’s back, he asked if they should be telling people – people Bobby knew. Dean glosses right over Sam’s question, blatantly ignoring it and the implication of having to actually speak the fact of Bobby’s death out loud to anyone besides his brother. He asks how long it’s been since he gave Frank (the paranoid old guy plugged into the matrix who got them off the grid – and has the Impala secreted away somewhere, still) the numbers? A few weeks?
Dean: Is he nuts or just being rude?
Sam: Could be both. I asked you a question.
Dean: Unless…something happened to him. He can’t get to a phone because a Leviathan ate his face.
Sam (deadpanned): Also a possibility.
Dean continues to avoid both Sam’s question and the bitchface that is currently settling into place on Sam’s countenance because he’s avoiding the question. He wants to go check on Frank.
Sam: Do you want to call Bobby’s people or not?
Dean (finally acknowledging the topic by half-turning to face his brother): I’m not calling anybody. If you want to, go right ahead.
Sam: I don’t want to call anybody, are you nuts?
Me: Then why even bring it up, Sam?
Okay, so this is just the oldest sister in me, but it sounded like such a typical younger sibling thing to ask. “I think this is what we’re supposed to do in this situation, but there’s no way I’m doing it and you’re the oldest, so I think you should.” *laughs* I get that he knew people would call and that Bobby knew a lot of people – after all he was the one studying Bobby’s address book when Dean was plotting their revenge. And I really do understand the need to reach out when you lose someone and find others that person knew to share that loss – just as I understand the need to not say a word and wrap your pain around you tightly because it’s your pain and he was your friend and no one else will get it.
But…if you’re going to bring up an unpleasant duty, be willing to be the one to do it, or don’t bring it up. And that’s all I’m saying about that.
Just then, a cell phone rings, and it’s obviously in Bobby’s duffel. Dean tells Sam to get it and crosses the room, spying Bobby’s flask. As Sam answers, Dean picks up the flask, sniffs it, grimaces, then puts it down. A young girl is on the other line and asks for Bobby Singer. Sam stumbles a bit and eventually lands on “he’s not here, but I’m a friend of his.” The girl says her dad told her to call Bobby, and hangs up.
Dean picks up a full bottle of beer – and I know it was full because when what happened later happened, I rewound to check to make sure my eyes weren’t just tired – and listens as Sam says he has the girl’s number on Caller ID and they should go see if they can help. There had to be a reason she called Bobby. Dean wants to go make sure that Frank hasn’t been turned into Leviathan lunch and see what he’s made of those numbers.
They decide to split up.
Sam: On one condition – if Frank is spinning his wheels, you bail on crazy and come meet me.
Dean agrees, then glances as his bottle – now completely empty. Only we never saw him take a drink.
Dean: Thanks for drinking my entire beer.
Sam: I didn’t touch your beer. Mine’s right there. You probably drank it without noticing.
Dean frowns, baffled, and is like, “Right….” Me? I think they have themselves a guardian spirit who has a penchant for wearing trucker hats and a soft spot the size of the Grand Canyon when it comes to the Winchesters – especially Dean. Not sure how that’s going to play out, but I think there’s more to the Case of the Disappearing Beer than just Dean drinking so much he doesn’t even realize when he downs a bottle.
Also? Shallow aside – I frakking love when Dean does that “drags hand down face” maneuver when he’s tired, spent, or out of options. /aside
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