#01x04

Okay, so it’s been awhile because I’ve been obsessed with two longfics I’m writing (one of which is a humorous and dark Dean/Spike crossover) but I’m finally ready to talk a little more about what SPN is actually showing us, wincest-dynamics wise, one episode at a time.

In my first post I wrote that:

1. I believe that SPN is the epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester and that the boys are psychotically, erotically codependent. And I believe this is canon. This isn’t really something you can prove or disprove definitively but maybe in a future post I will start by defending this more staunchly. Maybe I’ll wait til I get to the siren episode (lol, bitch please, there’s no way you’re waiting that long). Please note that this doesn’t mean the boys are fucking. It could be latent. It just means it’s there and that if you don’t understand this, you miss a LOT of the show.

2. When I talk about canon, I’m talking only about what we see on the screen, not about someone’s commentary on it. (more about this below)

3. There is a canon-compliant, non delusional way that you can read the boys as yep, actually fucking, off and on at points throughout the show and their lives. To try to get your head around this, you just gotta read my first post in this series.

4. The boys are dedicated to denial at every turn and never—even to each other when they are alone—speak directly about it. This is a normal rule that an abnormal family would make and adhere to in order to protect itself, and there is evidence for this in the text that I take time to explore in the first post.

5. Despite the fact that so many people seem to be married to the concept of the boys’ dynamic being set in stone (Dean is only a top, Dean is only a bottom, etc), if you accept the above propositions and then watch the show to see what it’s saying about their relationship, their dynamic appears to be malleable. What do I mean by malleable? I don’t mean that they are enlightened, egalitarian boys who take turns nicely and understand that it’s misogynistic and homophobic to equate “bottom” with “weakness” and “top” with “strength.” I mean that their dynamic changes when acted upon by various forces.

**

So. Before I get to looking at what the next few episodes tell us about their dynamic, I want to spend a little more time on point 2. 

Yeah, I know that “the epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester” is a quote from Kripke and that Sera Gamble so understood what time it was that she is frequently credited with the quote. Do I think it’s interesting and telling that the showrunners from season 1-8 are true believers? Yes, of course. But I use the phrase only because I think it truly sums up what SPN (as we see on screen) is actually showing us.

“Death of the author” doesn’t mean that the text doesn’t matter. It just means that, once the work is out there, it has to stand on its own. If Rowling meant for Dumbledore to be gay, that’s cool, I guess, but she failed to show that in the text of the original Harry Potter series, so in my opinion it didn’t become canon until later works were added that made Dumbledore The Gay Wizard more explicit. The work has to stand on its own.

The text itself still has meaning, even as you are welcome to explore it in any direction you like. I got into this conversation on reddit recently and I used Beauty and the Beast as an example. There are many legitimate ways to understand that movie, and not all are what Disney intended. You could point out that the entire thing is happening pre-French revolution and that Beast is going to (very shortly) have his head removed from his shoulders, even though Disney probably didn't take that into account. You can talk at length about class and show how the servants are literally objects. You can apply a class analysis and say that Gaston was a worker and the Beast an oppressor. You can say that, based on what we know to be true about domestic violence, Beast is bound to seriously abuse Belle, because he’s been an asshole on a power trip pretty much continuously and one encounter with the loving touch of a beautiful woman probably isn't going to change that, even though Disney didn't, in all likelihood, intend that reading. 

But if you said that Gaston was actually a good, gentle, loving man who was just trying to get Belle's father mental healthcare and that he would have been an amazing husband, you're ignoring the in-universe facts. That's totally okay, too. It’s fiction. Go ahead; write an AU fanfic where Gaston is a devoted and kind lover who fully supports Belle's passions. But please understand that Gaston, in the reality of the (fictional) Beauty and the Beast universe, hated Belle’s reading, intentionally locked up her father to coerce her into signing her life over to him, and didn't respect any of her boundaries. Simply looking at the facts of the text, Gaston would have been an abusive husband. 

At the end of the day, when you look at what Beauty and the Beast is actually about, if you are media literate, you will understand that its the story of two outcasts finding each other and the power that love has to change us for the better. It may be problematic, it may be musically on point yet thematically tone deaf, it may be ill-advised ... and none of that changes the core of what it's about.

Compared to a book series like Harry Potter, with one writer driving it and plotting it and connecting the dots, or a singular movie with a coherent vision like Beauty and the Beast, SPN can’t be said to have one or even five creative visions. It’s a 15 season show from back in the day when TV had 22 episodes a year to play around with. 

If Belle didn’t have exactly the right facial expression, they’d redraw her. But Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles spent 15 years of their lives carefully portraying their characters as they saw them. Costume designers helped decide whether or not Sam’s plaid shirts in later seasons would be the same exact style or slightly different than Dean’s. Someone decided to hang Dean’s shirts from prior episodes in the background of Sam’s room, and I doubt it was J2. Someone watched a hundred different versions of the same scene and carefully selected the one that had the most chemistry between the boys. 

Dean and Sam are walking down the hallway of an abandoned insane asylum and Dean asks Sam who’s the hotter psychic, him or Jennifer Love Hewitt, and Sam gets this beautiful *aww shucks* look and grins like a school girl. Who knows which take that was? Who knows what snarky remark Jensen may have said off screen to get that reaction? Who knows what the director told Jared to do? None of that matters in my analysis. Behind-the-scenes facts may be interesting, but I’m not taking them into consideration when deciding what the show is saying about the boys’ relationship. I’m looking at the end result and trying to understand what’s actually happening. 

And when you look at the end result, the entire kit and caboodle—including Castiel being in love with Dean, Dean running away with Crowley, Sam running away with Amelia, Benny pointedly calling Dean “Brother”—from the moment Dean carries baby Sammy out of the house to the moment they reunite in Heaven—is the epic love story of Sam and Dean Winchester. 

“But the authors didn’t have a united vision” … “But Jensen played Dean as a straight man” … “But there were Destiel writers” … I know, and I don’t care. A whole bunch of people put different ingredients into a bowl, mixed it up, and popped it into the oven, and when they pulled it out, it had risen into a fluffy incest cake for us depraved fanfic writers to enjoy. 

**

Okay, so, now that I’ve defended my complete disregard for any one individual’s commentary, back to my episode-by-episode analysis of the boys’ dynamic. 

When I first started reading wincest, I gotta say, I was shocked, shocked, that some people think all the desire belongs to Sam. Considering Sam was the younger brother, and thus the child-figure in their inappropriately parent/child-i-fied dynamic, and considering that Sam spends half the series desperately trying to escape their fucked up relationship, it feels victim blamey. Like, this idea that the younger sibling is the one that holds all of the desire, that he’s the aggressive top, and that the parent-figure is the poor, abused, agency-less object of his desire … where did that come from?? 

We’re talking about the Sam who begs Dean to talk about his feelings in couples’ counseling, right? The Sam who insists he doesn't want Dean’s meat (but he’s okay with Eileen’s meat), while Dean tricks him into putting his meat into his mouth while announcing he’s the “meat man”? 

I still don’t like the “Sam holds all the desire” analysis, like at all, but after paying more attention, I understand it a bit better.

Because, at least in the beginning, the show does in fact position Sam as holding more of the cards. I don’t know how I missed it my first couple watches, honestly. 

As I pointed out in my last post, the show starts with Sam resolutely declaring he’s going to be faithful to Jessica. By the end of Wendigo, he agrees to reenter the fucked up situation he had going with Dean, but with changed dynamics—he announces that he’ll be driving now. And Dean has no real choice but to comply. Not if he wants to keep Sam around. 

In both fictional and real-world relationships, the one who has one foot out the door is often more “masculine” or “fuckboy” coded. In a cis het relationship, if it’s a girl who can’t commit or who’s only half-invested, she’s often considered cold and inaccessible, and the guy is considered pussy whipped. Is it true? Is having one foot out the door more butch? Not necessarily, but it’s often read and coded that way. 

One reason for this is that we associate masculinity with power, and the person who’s about to walk away from a negotiation inherently has more of it. When teenage Dean’s refusing to meet with his girlfriend’s parents and making out with her friend in a closet, he’s clearly a badass fuckboy. When much-younger-than him Sam stares at his big brother with jealousy and sorrow, in that moment, Sam views himself as a weak, pathetic nerd who can’t ever have his brother’s full affection and will never be out of his shadow.

Soulmates, in Supernatural, can barely stand to be apart. At one point, soulmates who had been abstaining til marriage finally give in and literally consume each other until they’re both dead. Dean goes to hell to get one more year on Earth with his soulmate. Mary gives up her future son up to a demon in order to save her soulmate’s life. Amelia Novak abandons her daughter to wander the Earth to find her lost soulmate, Jimmy. 

In this context, Sam is probably the strongest, manliest-coded soulmate we see in the entire series. He flat out leaves his soulmate for … a cabin in the woods with pizza and a dog … then for college … then for … *checks notes* … an alcoholic bitch whose husband has gone MIA? … and in retelling, Sam makes it clear it was actually, again, for the dog? 

(Make no mistake. I think Sam is a complete badass for this. He’s trying to escape a codependent relationship and I don’t hold any of this against him.)

Anyways, once Sam leaves their childhood dynamic to go off to Stanford, everything changes for Dean. From Dean’s perspective, Sam has shown that he has the ability to singlehandedly destroy Dean’s entire world and, worse yet, he’s never shown a single drop of remorse. The kid actually thinks he’s entitled to grow up and differentiate. Moreover, he’s completely unafraid to do it again. He’d love to jump ship, any time, and find a normal life, away from the danger and psychotic codependency, with a pretty girl and a 9 to 5 job. 

The episodes in the first season definitely highlight this power shift in all sorts of ways. Dead in the Water starts out with an unspoken negotiation between Dean and Sam:

Dean, ever the fuckboy, is about to take an incredibly hot, huge-tittied waitress with a cherry crop top to pound town when Sam intentionally intervenes. His jealousy is palpable (and honestly quite weird if you don’t understand that the show is about incest). 

Dean tries to advocate for himself—he wants “to have fun, once in a while.” Like a strict father, Sam doesn’t even have to say the word “no.” Dean gets the memo from Sam’s stern, *absolutely not* face. 

So Dean suggests a hunt instead. Sam’s still got an unimpressed, almost John-like expression. It takes him a beat to go from “jealous” to “paying attention to the details of the hunt.” 

Then Sam tries to advocate against it—he’s not that interested in hunting. He’s interested in finding Dad, because Dad has the info he needs to get vengeance for Jessica’s death. So it becomes Dean’s turn to play the John-character. Sam might be able to keep him from fucking this lady, but he doesn’t get to choose the mission. Dean’s not willing to cede all the authority. 

Sam glares, about to consider arguing, when the massive-tittied, Daisy-duke wearing waitress walks by. If they stay, even one more hour, Dean’s definitely fucking her, and Sam knows it. 

“All right,” says Sam. “Lake Manitoc.” For now, Dean will control the hunt and Sam will control their sexual options. Again, this comes down to who is willing to walk away, and from what. 

Phantom Traveler starts out with a very interesting bedroom shot. Dean’s lying on the bed, ass in the air, vulnerable, when Sam approaches, awake, fully clothed, standing over him. Am I saying that the people who created the shot intended to show that Sam was fucking Dean in the ass? No, absolutely not. But I do think the scene shows us something about who’s holding which cards. Sam’s a looming figure in Dean’s life and he’s currently more in charge than Dean would probably like, especially considering that he raised the damn kid.

There are other signs in Phantom Traveler that point in this direction. Just honestly, their whole dynamic. Sam tells Dean to “just relax” when they’re on the plane. No, it’s probably not intended to have that double entendre and, again, I don’t care. Sam’s not only being toppy—he’s being paternal, again, John-like. He has to lecture Dean to get his weaknesses, his emotions, under control, or Dean risks being possessed.

Sam also plays the straight man in the episode, and in many other episodes in the future. He’s always the one who’s looking down on Dean’s antics while Dean’s behavior is played for a laugh. I always feel bad for Dean. I’d hate to have a life person who never thought any of my jokes were funny. 

One of my partners noticed that, throughout the series, Sam almost comes across like Dean’s his out-of-touch father who’s embarrassing him in public. That absolutely makes sense to me. Dean is one of his dads, in a very real way. Little children think their dads are funny and cool, but teenagers, who are coming into their power as their own people, start to cringe. This dynamic is often played in the media as a sign dads are losing control over their children’s lives.

There’s another dynamic in Phantom Traveler, and it's not necessarily about who is in charge but it is interesting and it’s something we see again and again throughout the show—Sam gets on the plane to save the passengers while Dean gets on the plane to save Sam. 

And finally, Bloody Mary. As in almost every episode, there are at least a few interesting wincest moments. There’s the har har, they both snuck up to a bathroom together at a party moment—it’s weird that the show barely acknowledges how awkward it was for the girl to find them walking out together. Straight men don't do that.

Another interesting moment: Sam bribes a guy with Dean’s hard earned money. Sam doesn’t consider the money legitimately earned, as Dean ostensibly earned it hustling pool. It’s played as a joke but there’s something deeper there. Sam doesn’t view the hustles and credit card fraud as legitimate or acceptable ways to earn money. From his point of view, the money wasn’t truly “earned,” not the way a lawyer earns his money. But earning money that way? Turning $20 a week into enough to feed two kids? That’s how Dean kept Sam alive. Sam isn’t just rejecting Dean’s lifestyle and value system. He’s belittling the labor and sorrow and fear that kept Sam fed for their entire childhood. And if you are one of the people who think that Dean did unspeakable, feminine-coded things that Sam will never know about to contribute to those funds, then it hits even harder. Dean looks crestfallen here. (If I ever make it to the Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magical Menagerie episode, I’ll expand on that, because to me, it’s pretty clear that Dean wasn’t on dates with girls but was actually doing some kind of secret work he will never disclose to Sam in order to keep his brother alive while Sam sulked miserably about being left behind. Yes, I’m talking about sex work.) 

As far as Bloody Mary goes, it’s interesting that, again, Sam’s the summoner, the one who puts himself on the line to save the people, and Dean’s the one who saves Sam. I want to talk about this in a later post—Sam is the one on the Hero’s Journey here, even if the series is more about Dean. I feel like, in some ways, Sam is Jesus, Dean is Brian, and the show is the Life of Brian. I don’t think this says much about who’s topping, but I want to talk about it anyway since I think it’s something you need to grasp to fully understand the show. 

Anyway, let’s not act like Dean’s some completely agencyless victim of Sam’s masculine dominance. The show does not demonstrate that in any way, shape, or form, and it’s wild to say so. Dean *raised* Sam. Throughout the show, he’s the main one who drives, leads in hunts, and makes decisions. He’s obsessed with controlling Sam—his hair, what he eats, what music he listens to. 

And along these lines, one big theme, that we see over and over, is that Sam isn’t allowed to have secrets while Dean is. In this episode, Sam has a secret that is tied to someone being killed and he isn’t willing to share it with Dean. Sam says they're Brothers (and here I think he's using the capital B, that he's referencing their specific and unique relationship, another topic I touched on in the first post and will touch on later), but that he gets to keep some secrets. Dean silently finds this completely unacceptable. But Bloody Mary wouldn’t have been able to attack Dean if he didn’t have one too!

I think this secret-keeping hypocrisy makes sense. When Dean was a kid, it was his job to keep secrets. Don’t tell Sam Dad is in danger, don’t tell Sam monsters are real, don’t show Sam how the sausages are made. At the same time, it was Dean’s job to know all of Sam’s secrets. Kids aren’t allowed to lie to parental figures for good reason, and Dean would likely be punished if Sam had been up to no good on his watch. It just makes sense that this would carry over into their adulthood, even if Dean wasn’t particularly controlling (and he is). 

Anyway, you can see these glimpses into the longer-standing pattern of their dynamic, and you know that Dean wore the pants their entire childhood, and you can tell that Dean’s not just going to cede power forever. Sam’s not allowed to have secrets. Dean’s still calling Sam “Sammy” and Sam’s still saying “it’s Sam” and we all know who’s going to win this one. By the end, Sam will be the one defending Dean’s sole right to call him that. 

Aaron Hotchner in every episode:

Buffy Rewatch, a drawing per episode. 01x04 Teachers Pet