Season 4 - January 24, 2009

Dean turns 30.


The young man’s eyes snapped open as he moved from the realm of sleep to that of awareness with a slight heart stopping gasp. Lying perfectly still, waiting for his heart to slow down from a pounding gallop, he adjusted from the utter darkness and the sounds of his nightmare to the calming familiarity of a motel heater grinding and the muted traffic noise outside the window. Turning his head to the side and checking the bright red digital numbers of the bedside clock, he realized that he had actually gotten a couple of hours of real sleep before his subconscious decided once again to turn back the clock a few months and his time in ... nope ... not gonna go there.

Eyes adjusted to the shadows of the room made by garish curtains pulled as tightly together as possible, meaning good size cracks of light showing through each side and down the middle, the young man realized he was alone. The other bed was empty, the chair pushed up to the table, the laptop closed, the bathroom door open to a completely dark room. Pushing up to his elbows, he once again looked over towards the table between the beds and noticed a torn piece of sack with some writing on it.

“Checking out bookstore down the street. Decided to walk. Will bring back food.”

Huh.

Flopping back onto the bed, he debated whether to attempt to go back to sleep or to get up and go back through one of the books he’d been researching to figure out what was going on in this town. Deciding against sleep … it’s overrated anyway … he got up and, after splashing some water on his face in the tiny motel bathroom, headed back towards the books.

Rounding the corner of his brother’s bed, his foot caught on the not quite matching paisley spread, nearly sending him head first to meet the carpet. Jerking his foot back, as he found his balance, he caught sight of something bright and shiny. Reaching down, he pulled out a slim, but long box … “hmm, heavy sucker” … gaily wrapped with shiny paper and actually boasting a bright red bow on top.

“What the … ?”

Suspicions gathering, he laid the box down on his brother’s bed and went over to the table, pushing aside the printed papers & macabre pictures to get to yesterday’s paper buried underneath. Checking the date, he gave a mental groan.

“No … nonononono … no!”

Today was January 24th ... his birthday. Not only his birthday, but his 30th birthday. He remembered last year’s little impromptu party in the back of the bar … the cake that had been embarrassing and also … secretly … touching. He remembered the way his brother’s eyes glistened as he toasted with a long neck, fiercely declaring that his big brother WOULD have a 30th birthday. Well, he’d been right … even if it had taken going to hell and back.

His brother had promised a big blowout … “God, I really hope he was kidding about that moon jump” … and suddenly he realized he couldn’t stay in the room. He knew that the minute his little brother got back, he would be working to get him to the destination of the promised party.

“No! Nonononononono … No!”

Grabbing the battered leather jacket off the back of the chair and searching for his keys, he raced out of their room towards the sleek, black beauty that was always waiting for him. Sliding into the car, closing the door, he grasped the wheel and laid his head forward, willing his heart to slow down. He couldn’t deal. He just couldn’t face it … cake and candles and presents and well wishes … he couldn’t. It wasn’t right.

Starting up the engine, listening to its rumbling life for just a moment, hand on the gear shift, he sat there … quiet and still … trying to decide where to go … what to do.

How could his brother think that he would want to deal with a party?

What was he going to do … have a mixer with some hunters, a couple of angels, and a demon? Wonder what kind of invitations got sent for that.

No … he couldn’t stay. He couldn’t believe his brother would try to spring something like this on him … not after everything he had told him of his memories. Not while they are in the middle of this war … in the middle of all this evil. What kind of crazy person would try to plan a party?

He sat back against the seat and glanced over at the passenger side.

His freakishly tall little brother … that’s who.

His little brother who, on his sixth birthday after opening the presents the older boy had managed from the second hand bookstore, feeling very wise now that he was six, questioned his older brother about why they never had a party for HIS birthday and cried when he was told that you don’t need birthday parties when you get bigger.

His little brother who woke him up the next year … the day after his birthday, but hey, the little kid was only six … with a gleeful shout, a package of two hostess cupcakes – a bit smashed from being hidden under a pillow, and a box cracker jacks with the solemn promise that it was really okay if he were to help his big brother eat the popcorn, cause it was actually the prize that was the present … the popcorn was just the wrapping paper.

His little brother who demanded that their dad take them somewhere special for dinner the next year … first with a jut of his little seven year old chin and a glare in his eye that slowly began to falter and glisten as their father, who had obviously forgotten the date, just looked at him, unable to understand why his little boy was suddenly ordering him around, before he quietly whispered in a trembling voice … “Please, Daddy. It’s his birthday and I couldn’t find any cupcakes.”

The pizza had been good that year and the fact that their dad actually took them bowling afterwards had delighted both of the brothers … having them declare it to be the best birthday ever.

Blinking his eyes quickly, the young man shifted the car's gear and sped out of the parking lot. Birthdays were for little kids. They weren’t for guys that had lived the life he led … seen the things that he had seen … done the things that he had done.

No!

“Sorry little brother … but cancel the shindig cause I’m not doing the moon jump this year.”

Passing the bookstore, he hesitated, almost stopping and going in to give his brother an earful, but decided against it knowing full well that his little brother would effectively turn his tirade around and head him right back to wherever it was that he planned to hold his birthday blowout.

Nope … he wasn’t even going to give the dude a chance. He’d planned and arranged it … well … he could just un-plan it!

Driving around the small town for a bit, the young man realized the flaw in his haste … there really wasn’t anyplace to go. He wasn’t really hungry and, whether his brother would believe it or not, he wasn’t in the mood to make time in a bar – drinking or hustling. Not this time. The town wasn’t big enough for a movie theater and he wasn’t feeling up to driving the extra 30 minutes to get to the city that did have one.

Great! Just freakin’ great! It’s his birthday and he’s driving around avoiding his party and can’t figure out anything else to do. Stupid one horse little town with an evil problem that they can’t seem to figure out what it is yet!

Turning the corner past the grocery store, his eye caught on a sign … Fast Lanes … and suddenly, he grinned. Pulling into the almost empty parking lot, he got out, pocketed his keys, and head inside. Opening the glass door, he made his way through the dark entry listening to the intermittent sounds of thuds and rolling balls, of pins clattering as they fell. His senses took in the smells of popcorn and beer, of pizza and shoe deodorant. As he approached the long counter, he found it was empty, rows of cubbies behind it filled with tacky shoes of all sizes waiting. Past the cubbies and stretching out on either side were the smooth, brightly lit lanes of the bowling alley and the racks of balls of all sizes and weights. Off to his left, he saw a young kid wielding a huge mop and bucket against the tide of water that seemed to be never-ending coming from the old upright water fountain. Another, seemingly older, boy joined him … squatting down beside the ancient machine and pulling a wrench from his back pocket while hollering to the young man that they would “be with ya in just a few minutes!”

Leaning his arms on the counter, the young man’s frame seemed to finally relax as he, first watched the water fight and then just let his gaze roam over the lanes … relaxing further as he watched the ghosts of a man with two small children laughing as they struggled to roll the balls to their destination, even more gleeful when they watched fascinated as the ball they’d just thrown popped back up in front of them out of the dark hole beside the alley.

The young man heard the door behind him open … felt the rush of cold air do battle with the warm air inside the bowling alley. He felt the approach of his little brother, sensed his presence long before a word was spoken.

“I saw the car.”

He nodded in acknowledgement … never actually turning.

“I also saw you found your present.”

Again, another nod.

“What are you doing here, man?”

Shaking his head, not ready to give up the memories, not ready to return to the reality of their life, he kept his back to his little brother and just shrugged his shoulders.

“You ran … didn’t you? You thought I had planned a party and you ran.”

The voice was soft … factual … not angry … not accusing. It was just the voice of his little brother calmly figuring out the answer to his own question.

“I didn’t, you know. I didn’t plan a party. I thought about it. I wanted to. And I’m not the only one. Bobby’s still pissed that we’re here and not at his house. But somehow I figured you weren’t really in the party mood. Plus … we aren’t really known for our big blowout bashes.”

The young man turned around, leaning back against the counter as he raised his eyes up to the softly smiling eyes of his little brother.

Clearing his throat … he gestured towards the alleys and asked, “Do you remember the year you bullied Dad into celebrating my birthday?”

He watched as his little brother looked around with puzzled eyes, his mind searching for the memory that had evidently captured his older brother. He saw the moment the eyes cleared and the memory caught. He heard the soft “oh!” as his little brother relived the evening that the three of them had spent laughing and playing and so … normal.

“Wow. That was a long time ago. What made you think of that?”

A shrug of the shoulders and a soft, “I don’t know, man, it was just a night. But it was a good night.”

Glancing over, he saw that the two young men had won their war against the overflowing water fountain and were finishing cleaning up.

Pushing away from the counter before one of the young men made their way over, he looked at his little brother and said, “Come on. You found me. Might as well go do whatever it was that you wanted to do.”

Putting his hand against his brother’s chest, the younger man halted him.

“No, man, this is good. Let’s stay.”

“But … the present … the party …”

“Dude, there’s no party. I picked you up a gift and figured I’d make you crazy and wrap it up all fancy. I was gonna stop and bring back something from that diner by the motel when I saw you drive by the bookstore.”

“No party?”

“No. No party. Sorry, dude, didn’t even get you an over-the-hill cake.”

“Oh.”

Looking down at his shoes, he suddenly felt so foolish. He must be getting old … this birthday nonsense was making him crazy. First he couldn’t deal with the fact that his little brother was throwing him a bash and now his suddenly feeling disappointed that the bash wasn’t real.

Laughing, the younger man turned him back around to the counter as the kid approached them, thanking them for waiting while he dried off his hands.

“Come on, dude. Let’s bowl some balls and drink some beer and have a pizza.”

******

A few hours later, he was lacing up his boots after changing out of the dorky shoes and feeling lighter than he had in quite a while, as his brother went to return their shoes. Standing up, he reached to pick up his jacket when his little brother approached him … hand behind his back. Looking over, his eyes widened as he watched a cupcake with a brightly lit candle stuck in the top came out and behind his brother the two kids from the alley and the teenage girl from the snack bar were joined by a couple of older bowlers and they all began singing Happy Birthday … really off key.

Grinning down at his older brother, the young man handed him the vending machine cupcake and said, “You know … you could look at it this way … you don’t have to be an old man of 30. You’ve been given the gift of a new life and I for one can’t be happier for that. So … Happy First Birthday, Dean! Now blow out the candle and let’s get back to work.”

Title Card Glee

                                   

Honest to goodness … there are sooo many things about the show Supernatural that I love, but I have to tell you, the Title Card ranks right up there in Keeper’s Top Five.  From the very beginning it has been The Boys, BDW, The Metallicar, The Music, and the Title Card.  Seriously … it is amazing to me how something so seemingly insignificant can just make me down right giggly.

I know I’ve discussed the Title Card before, yet here I go again.  I think it’s going to have to be an annual event now because each year fascinates and tantalizes me a little bit more.  This particular year is no exception.  I mean, seriously … shattering glass?  Awesome!!

That lightning strike Title Card for the First Season … it seemed a fitting beginning.  A bolt of lightning, ominous and foreboding as it flashed across our screen, leaving behind the title of Supernatural.  As it flashed and faded, it let us know that a storm was brewing … a storm that seemed to begin November 2, 1983 … catching up the seemingly normal, happy Winchester family and casting them smack dab in the middle of it.  Nothing remains the same after a strike of lightning hits and this certainly was no exception.

Second Season was actually when the Title Card truly drew my attention as a forebear of events to come throughout the season.  Why else the change from a lightning strike to a blast of fire, branding Supernatural across our screens, complete with the pentagram.  Beginning with In My Time of Dying and blazing through to the end of All Hell Breaks Loose Pt. 2, there was a fire burning in Dean for one thing … protect Sam, not only as his father told him but also because it was his job, one he knew even before his dad told him.  Thinking about the pentagram in the Title Card … it seems appropriate, doesn’t it?  Remember?  In the Pilot?  Sam and Dean sitting with the girlfriend of the last guy taken by the Woman in White?  She was wearing a pentagram that Troy had given her.  She wore it because it freaked her parents out with all that “devil stuff”, but Sam earnestly leaned forward explaining that the pentagram was actually a symbol of protection.  Isn’t it interesting how the year had Dean spending it protecting Sam, only to have it end with Sam vowing to protect … to save Dean? 

Then comes that Third Season Title Card, black demon smoke blasting forth from a Key of Solomon’s Devil’s Trap before giving us Supernatural.  Everywhere we turned that season there seemed to be demons.  The Devil’s Gate had been opened and the repercussions seemed to be endless.  Demons intent on taking over, demon’s biding their time, demons hunting for The Boys, and then the cunning ones … intent on trapping The Boys for their own interests.  No less intense were the personal demons The Boys had to deal with throughout the year - insecurity and fear being a couple of the biggest ones to cast their inky black shadows over the hearts of the Winchesters.  The year ended with the demons seeming to have won … Dean was taken to hell, while Sam was left in hell on earth … both to be tortured by demons – external and internal.

The fluttering of black wings brought a whole new Title Card for Season Four.  Angels … Supernatural gave us Angels of God.  The season began with an angel raising Dean … gripping him tight and raising him from perdition, but as we find out later … not soon enough.  Dean had broken the first seal and the season was spent with Winchesters working with and dodging against these seeming warriors of God, until the magnitude of reality came crashing at the end … leaving one angel siding with Dean, rebelling against his brothers in an effort to reach Sam before he mistakenly brought forth the Angel of the Apocalypse, Lucifer. 

Blood … blood is life and also the Title Card depicting Season Five.  This was a bloody season, looking back.  Blood brought forth Lucifer and in the end, blood was the sacrifice that sent him back.  And in between, it was a bloody battle for The Boys.  You know how the saying goes … Blood is thicker than water.  That means family.  Bonds were stretched and seemingly broken, but in the end … family won out.  Bloody and broken by Lucifer within Sam’s body, Dean watched as his brother gained back his ground, and gave himself to save the world. 

A world that had Dean retiring from hunting, of returning to Lisa and Ben at the request of his brother, of backyard barbeques and normal jobs … a world that looked all shiny from the outside, but was only separated from the darkness of the supernatural by a picture window of glass.  Making the Season Six Title Card of shattering glass all the more ominous. 

I don’t know how this Title Card will continue to foretell the theme of this season.  I have a thought on that, but I’m not ready to give it over.  Only time will tell if the shattering glass is so that The Boys may “see face to face”, or whether it is a shattering of illusions.  Or, could it be a how the glass flies and wounds as its reality shatters?  Only those within the sacred Writer’s room know for sure at this point. 

Yep … the Title Cards tell their own story for each season, creating a mood and atmosphere.  The exceptions to this are rare – A Very Supernatural Christmas, Monster Movie, The Monster at the End of This Book, and Changing Channels – where the change in mood setting is deliberately changed and therefore, the Title Card is given a change as well.  Just as the music, they set the tone for the episodes and the season.  They are a small, yet huge part of what makes Supernatural such a unique show.

One that isn’t afraid to shatter boundaries and preconceived notions in order to entertain and drive its obsessive fans crazy each week. 

Not that I’m admitting to being obsessive. 

I just like Title Cards. 

*grins*