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chickensarentcheap · 4 years

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Sanctuary -Chapter 4

Warnings: none. Just some cute Ovi and little kids ;)

Tagging: @valkyrie-of-the-light, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y

It is a fifteen-minute drive into town; a picturesque central area with a healthy mixture of both low and high end shops and numerous eateries and cafes. In the winter it is reminiscent of a Dickens novel; snow covered trees and streets, the Victorian area store fronts boasting immaculate decorations and displays in their front windows, white lights strung from almost every available surface, and a skating rink in the centre of it all. In the summer, when tourists flowed into the area and brought in the most money for the economy, the sidewalks were full of patios and lined with immaculate floral gardens. Telluride is a small town, and regular residents all seemed to know one another; conversing in front of the bank and post office, catching up on gossip and talking about high school sports. Tyler’s already exchanged pleasantries and small talk with five people, and that was when just stepping out of the car.

When they’d first arrived, talk had spread fast about the new family in town. They’d spent four months living with her parents and getting on their feet before buying able to buy a home with their joint savings and money that Mahajan had managed to scrap together and give as thanks for taking care of his son. Nik had taken it upon herself to act as the ‘small town gossip’, quickly using some of her contacts to spread small little rumours about who they were: an ex Australian Army soldier who’d been injured in Afghanistan and forced to retire at a young age, his young pregnant wife and their baby girl, and a kid that they’d adopted after losing both of his parents. It had managed to keep people from asking too many questions when they’d show up unannounced at the house with various casseroles and baked goods and welcoming gifts. Every so often someone would ask about his service record and just what happened that forced him to leave at such a young age and Tyler would just repeat the same old bullshit about arthritis and nagging injuries and show off some of the more prominent scars that marred his body. Just like five years ago in Dhaka, people had taken to them. They were young, friendly, always willing to lend a hand if someone needed it. Never too accessible, but just accessible enough. Never free and easy with their personal information, but giving out just enough that kept people curious. And when he started his own business, word travelled fast and within a week he had a client list of over two dozen. On his first day of school, Ovi already had people waiting to meet him. Interested in who the kid with the ex Army Aussie dad was.

Even five years later it is a novelty of sorts: an Australian living in their small town. They’re intrigued by his accent and his slang and always want to hear stories about ‘the land down under’. Even now he couldn’t go into the hardware store or into the pharmacy to buy diapers without someone wanting to hear all about kangaroos and koalas and was it really true they had spiders the size of dinner plates? He humoured them for the most part; slightly annoyed when they attempted to copy the way he talked. What was the saying? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery? He’d just laugh it off and they’d think it was hilarious whenever he called them mate.

The twins and Millie had decided to tag along; the boys wanting mohawks done at the barber and their sister wanting ice cream. The little mom and pop candy store was always one of their stops when they happened to make it into town, and she wasn’t about to let her father forget about it.

“I can take her,” Ovi offers, still trying to make up for his huge fuck up the night before. “I could use some ice cream too.”

“Oh please, daddy?! Please?!” Millie gushes, as she waits for him to unload her brothers from their car seats before tending to her. “Can Ovi take me for ice cream? Let Ovi take me for ice cream!”

“Sometimes I think you love him more than me,” he teases, as he leans across the back seat to unbuckle her, and in response she curls both arms around his neck and gives him a sloppy, noisy kiss on the forehead.

“I don’t love anyone more than you daddy.”

“Not even mommy?”

“Mommy is a close second. Don’t tell her that though. It might make her sad.”

“What about your brothers? Where are they on your list?”

“Oh they are wayyyy down there. Like between broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

“You hate broccoli and Brussel sprouts.”

Her eyes narrow. “Exactly.”

He can’t help but laugh at the seriousness in her voice, at the frown that takes over her face, the way her normally brilliant blue eyes grow dark. So much like him in so many ways. He sees it all the time; in all of his kids. Certain facial expressions and mannerisms that he long ago recognized in himself.

“Okay, I know they piss you off, but they’re still your brothers,” he reminds her, as she clambers out of the SUV.

“Maybe they’re adopted,” she sounds hopeful at the idea, and then rolls her eyes at them when they start harassing her about her dress and her pig tails.

“I hate to break it to you, but they’re not. They definitely came out of mommy’s tummy. I was there. I saw it happen.”

“But how’d they get in there? Maybe other babies got put in her tummy by accident.”

“Naw, I was there for that too. So sorry. You’re stuck with the brothers you have.”

She’s side eyeing them now, with absolute disdain despite the fact they’re actually behaving and just waiting patiently for their dad to lock the car and set the alarm. He recognizes that look, too. He’s used it many times himself when someone’s mere presence has annoyed the shit out him.

“They’re just so…ughhh…” she huffs dramatically.

That’s definitely more her mother coming out.

“But at least I have you, right Ovi?” she curls a hand around two of his fingers and gazes up at him adoringly. “At least you won’t pick on me and pull my hair and do stupid boy stuff. You’re like an older brother, right? That’s what mommy always says. That you’re practically my big brother. Is that true?”

The kid looks as if he may burst into tears at the mere thought of it. “If that’s what you want. Do you want me to be your big brother? I’ve always wanted a little sister.” He’s always seen her that way. She’d been his first hands on experience with babies and he’d relished every moment. Never once complaining when he was asked to change a dirty diaper or she threw up on his clothes. He was a natural, calm, patient, compassionate. A surprise, considering he’d never been brought up experiencing any of those traits.

“I can be your little sister,” she offers, and picks his arm up and slings it around her shoulders.

It takes him a moment to compose himself. And he blinks his eyes several times and clears his throat and then smiles down at her.

“I’d like that.”

****

When he was a kid, this place would have been paradise. An entire wall devoted to clear plastic cylinders filled with a rainbow of various candy, display cases showing of chocolates in all kinds of shapes and even cartoon characters and over two dozen different flavours of fudge. There’s even an old fashion milkshake and ice cream bar on the far wall, serving everything from basic cones to sundaes with dozens of available toppings, and enormous banana splits.

Oh, to be a child again! He longed for those days. Not his childhood and his previous life in India; spent as a prisoner in his own home because of his father’s evil misdoings. But a childhood that would be much simpler. Worry free. Where he could actually be a kid and enjoy all the innocence that came with it. If he could choose, he would pick this moment, this place, this family, to experience as a child. In a home where he felt safe. Valued. Respected. Loved. Where his opinions and his feelings are validated, and he can speak without being spoken to. Where there is more laughter than there were tears. More smiles than harsh raised voices.

And love. Lots and lots of love.

That is what he witnessed in his new home, with his new family. He’d been made to feel as if he was loved just as much as the biological children. He was valued. Seen as a person and not a thing. Tyler and Esme never said those three little yet powerful words, but he felt them. In the way they expressed pride in his school accomplishments, in the way they helped him battled his issues since the incident in Dhaka five years ago, how they encouraged him to always try his best and learn from his mistakes. Even when he was younger and being disciplined, there was love in it. They only wanted what was best for him and hated to see him wandering down difficult paths.

No. They never said it. Neither did he. But it was all around him. And inside of him.

Half a dozen customers linger in the store; a small family picking out candy, a couple sitting on the stools at the counter, and a solo man sitting in one booth at the very back. A trucker style hat pulled low over his eyes, sleeves of brightly coloured tattoos visible under his t-shirt, a mug of black coffee and that day’s newspaper in front of him. He glances up as they enter; his eyes locking on Ovi’s for a split second, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Ovi finds it a tad unsettling. He’s spent a lot of time wandering the town and in and out of the various shops and he’s never seen that face before. And in Telluride, newcomers stick out like sore thumbs.

Millie tightly holds his hand and happily skips alongside of him, pausing every couple of feet to spin in a circle; commenting on the way her dress looked when she twirled. Because that’s how the princesses’ dresses moved in all the movies she’s seen, and she would very much like to be a princess when she’s old.

And a firefighter.

“That’s quite the combination,” he remarks. “A princess and a firefighter? Are you going to wear your tiara and your princess dress when you go to fires?”

“Maybe the dress, but not the tiara,” she says. “Because I wouldn’t be able to get my helmet on.”

Pretty sound logic.

He notices the way people watch them, mostly out of curiosity. That sweet little girl in her blue and white gingham dress and her light up Frozen sandals. With her unruly hair and her huge blue eyes, her hand tightly clutching his. They probably think he’s a babysitter. Or a family friend. But truth be told, he is closer to her than he’s ever been to any of his blood family.

“Let’s see what we want,” he says, and scoops her up into his arms, settling her on his hip in the same fashion he’s seen Tyler use so many times. And she curls an arm around his neck and pushes her unruly hair out of her eyes and leans forward as far she can go in order to get a closer look at the tubs of ice cream laid out in the freezer before them. He doesn’t know why he bothers. She orders the same thing every time they’re there.

“Aren’t you a lucky little girl,” the cashier says, as she rings up their order. “Having a friend take you out for ice cream.”

“Oh, he’s not my friend,” Millie informs her. “He’s my brother.”

The woman arches an eyebrow.

“What she means is…” Ovi attempts an explanation of his own, but Millie jumps right in.

“Just ‘cause we look different doesn’t mean he’s not my brother. ‘Cause he is. My mommy and daddy adopted him when his mommy and daddy died. He didn’t have anywhere else to live so mommy and daddy let him live with us. I also have three other brothers.”

“Are they adopted to or…”

“Nope. They’re my real brothers. They have the same mommy and daddy as I do. Two little brothers were enough and when mommy was having another baby, I really wanted a little sister. Or a puppy. Puppies don’t cry all the time and wake me up in the middle of the night and steal my toys. But nope, another brother,” she’s clearly disgusted by that fact. “How come so many boys? Daddy says that some people just have lots of boys and others have lots of girls and some just have a little of both. But mommy says daddy is a boy making machine. Whatever that means.”

“I am so sorry,” Ovi apologizes. “She likes to talk.”

“My brothers that came right after me are twins,” she continues, taking the cashier’s wide-eyed interest and awe at her precociousness as her cue to keep going. “Tanner. And Tyler. Tyler’s my daddy’s name too. My baby brother is Declan. He’s the cutest one. The other two are just way too annoying. And Declan doesn’t pick on me and pull my hair. And I’ll make sure he doesn’t…” she makes a fist, as if to signify she’s going to punch him in the face if he doesn’t tow the line.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ovi notices the tattooed man in the trucker hat slipping out of his booth; mug of coffee and newspaper in his hands as he moved closer to them. Dropping into one of the stools closest to the entrance. He shifts nervously from foot to foot; keeping one arm tight around Millie as he pocked his change and then carries her and their treats to the nearest table. He makes sure that he’s facing the door. Tyler has always told him that is was the smart thing to do; you didn’t want to be surprised by trouble sneaking up on you.

He hates that he’s still so paranoid. That the nightmare he’d gone through in Dhaka still bothers him to this day. It’s his cross to bear; painful and heavy. And some days he just wishes he could ease the burden on his tired shoulders.

Instead of taking the seat across from him, Millie slips in right beside him, kneeling on the vinyl bench in order to reach her ice cream. She happily digs in; spooning the bubble gum flavoured concoction into her mouth as she rattles on about gymnastics and martial arts and how she really wishes that daddy didn’t hate hockey so much, because she’d really like to learn how to play it. And how to hit people really hard and fight them. And as he listens intently and offers up nods and appropriate responses, he casually keeps an eye on the stranger seated at the counter. Ovi knows he’s watching them. He can feel it every time he looks away to pay attention to Millie.

“Ovi?” she suddenly asks, as she licks ice cream off her fingers.

“Yeah?”

“What does daddy do? What’s his job?”

“He fixes up houses and makes them nice again. And helps people do things they’re not able to do in their own homes. You know that.”

“I don’t mean that job. I mean his other job. The one that Auntie Nik always calls him on the phone about.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I…”

“He always leaves in the middle of the night and then he’s gone in the morning and I’m mad that he didn’t even say goodbye,” she continues. “And then he’s gone a long time and mommy is really sad and cries about it. She tries to say that she doesn’t cry, but I hear her when she thinks I’m asleep. I know she’s worried about daddy. Is he doing bad things?”

“No,” he assures her. “He’s not.”

“I don’t like that he’s gone all the time. It makes me sad. And then I can’t sleep because I’m sad and daddy isn’t there to tuck me in and read me a story. Where is he? Where does he go? Mommy says he’s far away, but he still calls us every night. It makes me feel better when he calls. ‘Cause I can hear his voice.”

“He’s a lot of different places,” Ovi explains. “He travels a lot.”

“But what does he do? What kind of job is it?”

“He helps people. People that are in trouble.”

“Are bad guys after the people?”

He nods. “The bad guys are after them and your dad goes and helps them get away. He rescues good people from bad people.”

Her eyes widen and her voice is above a whisper, speaking in astonished awe. “You mean like a superhero?!”

He grins. “Just like a superhero.”

“Like the Avengers?!”

“Just like them. Just like Thor.”

“Oh, he’s my favourite!” she gushes. “Mommy’s too because she says he’s a total snack.”

“I wouldn’t tell your dad that. About mom thinking Thor’s a snack. Or about how you know he’s a superhero. He doesn’t see himself that way and he doesn’t like to talk about it. You know how some superhero’s keep it a secret and no one knows who they are? That’s how it is with your dad. So we’ll just keep it between us, okay? You don’t want to embarrass him, right?”

“I’m not brave, mate.”

“Of course you are. You rescue people.”

“Yeah, sometimes. Sometimes I do other things.”

“You mean like killing people?”

Ovi can hear that conversation as if it were just yesterday. At Gaspar’s house, when he’d asked Tyler if he’d always been brave. How could you not be? When you willingly put your own life on the line to save the lives of others? Even if there was money involved, it still took a lot of courage to go into a situation where you didn’t know if you’d survive or not. Tyler and his father were nothing alike. His father had killed people with horrible intentions. Tyler kills because he has to. To save others and himself. He would never tell the little girl beside him that. Those details are difficult to digest and painful to hear about, and she doesn’t need to know them until she is older.

And maybe not even then.

“Ovi?” she asks once again, and he uses the tip of his thumb to clear ice cream from the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“That man is giving me the creeps.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, tries to play it cool. “What man?”

“That one,” her eyes narrow once more as she glares at the stranger in question. “He keeps looking at us. Why does he keep looking at us?”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute. Or he’s jealous because you have ice cream and he doesn’t.”

“We could always ask him,” she suggests. “About why he’s staring at us.”

“Or we could just mind our own business and eat our ice cream. We don’t want it to melt, do we?” he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her a little closer and a little tighter to his side.

***

The chime above the door sounds as it swings open and Ovi watches as Tyler and the boys enter; the twins being maneuvered over the threshold with a large, strong hand gripping the back of their shirts, effectively steering them in the right direction. Both have mohawks now; one with frosted green tips, the other blue, and Ovi grins at the sight of Tyler’s own new look. Or was it in an old look? Newish oldish perhaps? The same cut he’d sported when they first five years ago. He remembers how he’d been intrigued by it; no one at school would dare have their hair cut like that and there was no way his own father or any of those paid to watch him would have ever allowed him to get it done.

He also notices it’s a bad knee day. That limp a little more prominent than usual.

“Over here boys,” he says to his sons, and with a gentle push with his thighs sends them the right way.

Ovi clears his throat noisily, making it a point to catch Tyler’s attention. And when their eyes lock, he makes a small nod in the direction of the man sitting at the counter. Pretending to be immersed in his paper as the cashier refills his coffee mug. Through the lenses of his sunglasses, Tyler’s able to check him out without even being noticed, and Ovi sees the way his head barely moves as he gives the stranger a once over; his brow slightly furrowed, lips set in a thin line.

“Hi daddy!” Millie cheerfully greets as he approaches the table, and Ovi notices how the stranger finally looks up; no expression on his face as he eyes Tyler from head to toe. “What’s up with your hair?”

“Most of it’s gone. Why? You don’t like it?”

She frowns. “It’s kinda weird.”

“Blame your mother. She likes it like this. Get in,” he instructs his sons, and helps each of them by grabbing the back of their shorts and lifting them onto the bench.

“Nice hair cuts boys,” Ovi enthuses, and he gets high fives from each of them. “Very cool. What’s up with the colour though?”

“My wife’s going to kill me,” Tyler laments, and then heads off to purchase ice cream for the twins. Ovi notices yet again that the man at the counter watches him intently; brows arching as he takes in the tall, powerful frame.

Impressed, maybe? A little intimidated? Even now Ovi himself found it hard not to be. When you’re that tall and you’re back and shoulders are that broad and your muscles are that big, you tend to draw attention to yourself. Mostly it was from women. Ovi noticed that a lot. The females like Tyler’s big muscles and his blue eyes.

Tyler slides into the seat across from him, removing his sunglasses, placing them on the tabletop and then getting the twins settled with their ice cream. He’s a good dad. Ovi has always thought so. He’s a gentler version of himself when he’s in ‘dad mode’; his features softening, his voice not as gruff. Calm and patient.

“What’s up with that guy?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of the counter.

“He’s been staring at us,” Millie answers for Ovi, as she ducks under the table, crawls to the other side and then resurfaces and climbs onto her dad’s lap. “It’s creepy.”

“Maybe he just thinks you’re cute,” her father reasons. “Or he wants your ice cream.”

“That’s what Ovi said. Hey!” she flashes a dramatic pout when he helps himself to some of her treat.

“He’s just been sitting there,” Ovi says. “He was here before we got here.”

“What’s he be doing?”

“Sitting. Reading the paper. Drinking coffee.”

“And watching us,” Millie pipes up. “Super creepy. I don’t like creepers.”

Tyler chuckles at the use of the word ‘creepers’, and running a palm over her hair, drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You definitely are your mother’s daughter.”

“You ever seen him before?” Ovi asks. Tyler’s in town more than he is; always at the hardware store picking things up for his side business.

“Don’t think so. I think I’d remember a face like that. Definitely doesn’t fit in around here.” But then again, neither did he really. With the accent and the tattoos and the scars. And now the haircut.

“People are weird,” Tanner chimes in. He’s the observant one out of the two boys; the kind that sits back and quietly takes in a situation or an environment, brain coming up with different scenarios and outcomes. Wise and intelligent beyond his years.

“You’re one to talk with that haircut,” his father teases, and nudges him playfully with his elbow. “You realize your mother is going to seriously hurt me, yeah? She’s not going to be happy at all. Think it’s worth it? Think it’s worth me having to sleep on the couch for the rest of my life?”

His son nods enthusiastically.

“That’s it. Throw me under the bus. Now I remember why your brother is my favourite,” he’s teasing of course, and reaches across the bench to gently and playfully pinch his name sake just below the ribs.

Ovi notices just how much they all actually do like alike. The same facial features: blue eyes framed by impossibly long and dark lashes, almost the exact same colour and texture of hair, the same noses and ears. Even the same smiles and mannerisms. The way they will each smirk and cock their heads to the side when they’re sensing someone else’s bullshit.

There are definitely some extremely strong genes on Tyler’s side of the family.

“He’s coming this way,” Ovi whispers, as the stranger slides off his stool, and folds his newspaper and puts it under his arm before carrying his empty cup to the cash register.

He’s average height and has a stocky build. Nothing remarkable about him at all save for the arms full of tattoos.

Tyler casually watches him; legs stretched out under the table, an arm across the back of the booth. If he senses something is up, Ovi can’t tell for sure. There’s no darkness to his eyes or furrows across his brow.

The other man turns towards them now, briefly pausing at the side of their table as he looks down at Tyler, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Can I help you, mate?” Tyler asks. Calm. Cool. Collected. It was a trait that Ovi admired; the ability to stare someone down yet remain completely relaxed and expressionless.

“Just admiring your family. I’ve got a few kids of my own back home. Just made me miss them seeing you all together.”

“Where’s back home?”

“Chicago.”

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I could say the same about you. Accent and all.”

Tyler nods slowly. “Here for business or…?”

Ovi enjoys watching the process. The way the questions come so easily and never seem prodding or invasive. Tyler’s expression and tone never wavering.

“You could say that. What brought you here?”

“The wife’s from Colorado. Decided to move here when we started having kids.”

“Definitely a nice place to be. Well you all take care. Enjoy your family. Kids are a special gift. Don’t take it for granted.”

Tyler nods, then casts a casual glance over his shoulder, watching as the man heads through the shop and out the front door.

“Anything?” Ovi asks expectantly. “Feels weird, right?”

“Felt like it’s just a guy away from home and missing his family. I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. He probably just wanted someone to talk to.”

“But the way he was watching us. The way he was watching Millie…”

“Maybe he has a little girl of his own and she reminds him of her.”

“So you felt nothing? You didn’t feel like there’s something weird? Something’s going on?”

Tyler smirks. “Not every strange person is out to get us, mate. Sometimes people are just weird. Or lonely. Sometimes they just want someone to talk to and don’t know how to go about it. Remember how you felt when you first moved here? How different it was and you didn’t have any friends? It’s like that. But a hundred times worse. A guy’s thousands of miles from home, missing his wife, missing his kids, maybe having a shit day. So he wants to reach out to someone.”

“So you really felt nothing? Nothing at all?”

“Just a normal guy missing his family, kid. That’s all. Thought you were getting a handle on this. The paranoia. It’s been five years. If someone from back home was after you, they’d have found you by now.”

“You don’t worry? About people from your past coming to find you?”

“If I just my entire time worrying about stuff like that, I’d never leave the house. And let’s not get too into it, yeah?” he nods down at Millie and then over at the twins. “Little ears and all.”

He likes to keep things on the downlow as far as the kids are concerned. They’re young and vulnerable. Impressionable. And telling them that their dad helps people is one thing, but telling them that he sometimes has to hurt and even kill people to do it, is a different beast all on its own.

“Does chocolate milk come from brown cows?” TJ suddenly asks, effectively breaking the mood.

“Excuse me?” his father laughs. “What?”

“Well if the white milk comes from the black and white cows, where does the chocolate milk come from?” his son continues. “Brown cows, right?”

“That’s not how it works,” Tyler chuckles. “That’s not how any of that works. It comes from putting chocolate in white milk.”

“What about the grass?” Tanner’s turn now. “How come the grass is green and the sky is blue?”

“That’s a simple one,” Tyler says. “If the sky was green like the grass, you wouldn’t know where to stop mowing.”

Ovi can’t help but laugh at that. The way it is said with the utmost seriousness and how the kids are now both in awe that their dad knew that and thinking he’s apparently the smartest man on the planet. He’s able to relax again. Calmed by the fact that he’s with his people.

His family.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #chris hemsworth character #extraction #sanctuary

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naruhearts · 6 years

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13x20: “I don’t care what happens to me”-- Dean Worthless Winchester, John Winchester’s Death and Destiel

Oh my god!

I gotta say, 13x20 was an ANGSTY FEELSY amalgamation of meta and foreshadowing for the Big Finale Triad of 21, 22, and 23. It laid down S5 tones, key themes, and narrative direction, hoo boy!!!

I’m sorry I posted late! Time-of-month sickness was an interruption, yikes.

I’d like to start with the Dean & Sam final scene, then talk about the major culminating implications this Father-centric episode specifically holds for our beloved protagonist Dean Winchester the shackled child — the Man behind the Mask (which S13 has been a gigantic narrative mirror of) — and the Destiel narrative/Cas in relation to Dean’s arc and character disposition *rubs hands together*

Glynn & Co made Dean’s axel-swinging between communication and miscommunication pretty clear to me in the last scene of 13x20, especially regarding the dialogue that people thought was character regression into Brodependency.

After sleeping on it, I didn’t see the same scale of toxic codependency from seasons ago a la ‘there ain’t no me if there ain’t no you.’ It wasn’t mutual. I saw it as: 1. more from Sam’s end, and 2. Dean’s willingness to protect his loved ones (Sam and CAS, in bold) combined with letting go and the textual acknowledgement of his low self-worth carrying over from 13x05 (the low self-worth he internalized across 99.6798% of his life course).

Firstly, Dabb’s subverting S5.

He put independent Dean in S5 independent Sam’s shoes here, and it’s surely not a coincidence that Dean himself referenced their implosive S5 Michael-Lucifer mess: “Where we were last time we had front row seats”. S5 exhibited Dean’s Holding On vs Sam’s Letting Go, with lost Dean crawling to Lisa’s door and yeah, we know how that prickly-edged story went. It’s finally Dean Letting Go vs Sam Holding On. It’s indicative of S13 faithless Grieving!Sam re: Mary/Jack seeking his own emancipation and finding real introspective purpose away from the codependent strings he’s clinging to. We heard Sam’s “If we die, we die together”. Don’t fret, his current arc is constructed to get rid of this kind of thinking and move towards Faith!

Dean’s prepared to cut the codependent strings — already has via 12x22, and then in 13x05 (albeit in a suicidal grief-ridden manner. Speaking of, 13x20 this time shifted focus to Sam’s risk-taking re: Lucifer and the Apocalypse in itself. Unsurprisingly, we already witnessed this narrative train running in reverse -- early S13 Grieving!Dean and Functioning Sam swapped roles post-13x06 and in 13x11. Man, I am pumpin’ my fists).

Atop the bro dualism, Dean’s behaviour in 13x20 concerned me the most, saddened me the most, and intrigued me the most.

:’(

I may have yelled said that Dean has emotionally matured, eliminated toxic coping mechanisms, achieved an internal balance between his femininity and non-performative masculinity (acknowledged in 13x04; actively manifested in 13x16 onwards x, x), and gained a sense of non-combative communication and understanding (seen in 13x14), yet his low self-worth constitutes the biggest roadblock to his FULL personal growth.

Okay, I know you’ll exclaim: after Cas returned, Dean wasn’t depressed anymore!

Well, that’s accurate and relatively inaccurate. Dean’s low self-worth is the central facet of his characteristic development, and it does have a guaranteed correlation with depression. Yes, you can feel worthless without being clinically depressed, but worthlessness is maladaptive and contributes to feeling depressed --> Dean’s depression.

Dean’s case is a heartbreaking one. He’s been depressed for YEARS. He never really cared about what happened to him for YEARS = our Dean meta textualized in gloomy letters!!

Yes, the single individual -- the canon WIN -- that placed him back on the rails was Cas, his Everything, resurrecting from the dead. Cas’ return drastically mitigated Dean’s severe nihilistic depression (aka his rock bottom nihilistic grief when he lost Cas) BUT it didn’t necessarily fix his pre-existing depression.

S13 depicts Dean -- despite Cas’ bright presence -- as traveling the rails empty. There’s not enough coal to fuel his engine because he LACKS the mental faculties to appropriately cope re: trauma and give up his control. This is why he seems to oscillate between character progression and regression, and he still isn’t 100% HONEST and OPEN about his feelings. He’s keepin’ it in. There’s no healthy psychological unload taking place.

Case in point? Dean’s regressed to drinking the hard booze again; Cas FILLS the negative spaces (as he’s been doing throughout S13). Dean is not disclosing the whole truth -- not saying what he’s genuinely feeling (to CAS. I discuss it x, x, x).

Plus, Dean’s internal worries re: Death, the next apocalyptic war, Cas’ Heavenly plans, and his respective destiny/fate (Death’s “See you soon”) just exacerbate the personal instability he’s experiencing.

And then we observe Dean’s parental duty rearing its head:

To me this is what reiterated the Brodependency being dismantled in late S12/S13 (12x22 and 13x12/15 in particular). Don’t get me wrong – Dean’s mostly let go. He was willing to leave Sam behind in 13x05 after losing the one person who textually means Everything to him.

Dean’s psyche is at a point right now where he AIN’T okay with Sam’s risk-taking. He questions his little brother’s half-baked plans and sympathizes with the close-to-here manic desperation (again, mirroring S5 and S13 Grieving!Dean), except Dean’s low self-worth puts him in the dark position: I’m doing it, all of it, for YOU (Sam and Cas) since I don’t value myself enough to do it for ME. He further says--

He obviously does, but us, the audience, know--in dramatic irony fashion--that this is NOT Dean’s entire truth.

He values his brother more than himself, and he values CAS more than himself. He cares about what happens to CAS. Nothing Else Matters. And we’re aware that Cas canonically occupies the highest pedestal in Dean’s life, which TPTB absolutely highlighted during Dean’s grieving arc, Cas’ return, and 13x16 onwards.

(In this scene, Dean continues to tell Sam what he’s NOT telling Cas. USE THE RIGHT WORDS.)

Cas is the love of Dean’s life, his Everything, and his Win. I mentioned before that losing Cas a second time would destroy him.

(**Dating 101: Dean therefore cannot establish a truly healthy, mutually interdependent relationship with Cas if he has low self-worth. He’s trying, but his personal losses -- more LOSSES than wins this season i.e. AU!Charlie/Mary/Jack in AU, non-confronted traumas i.e. Cas’ death, and insecurities cripple his ability to give Cas ALL of himself, out in the open!)

Although Dean HAS FAITH (Cas), the decisions he’ll formulate to protect/save Sam, Mary, Jack, and especially Cas aren’t exactly derived from mental stability. Keeping them safe is too paramount to Dean that the choices he’ll encounter could be questionable/dangerous, putting him in the line of (sacrificial) fire.

Sound familiar? It’s deliberately supposed to sound familiar!

Jack, TFW’s Unity/Balance symbol and characteristic mirror, even stated that ‘if he can’t keep others safe, what’s the use’?

Dean will make the penultimate save-the-world (read: save my family) decision ALONE regardless of Sam’s regressive wish to die together. And I wrote that his arc is now DIRECTLY paralleling S11 Casifer & Depressed!Cas’ S11/12 arc, especially (mis)communicative 12x19 --> 12x23 ‘I Have Faith’ Cas. There’s prevalent narrative symmetry in Dean’s arc (intrinsically linked to Cas’ arc).

“You, me, and Sam...we’re just better together” indeed, and this year’s season-ender should unite TFW like last season--unite Dean and Cas--in order to change their fates/defeat Death, but Dean’s decision will be an isolated one --> one that was foreshadowed as he faced expositional Daddy Issues™ Loki by himself. And Dean may not tell Cas, just like Cas hadn’t told Dean in 12x23 about his sacrificial act.

These vastly important storytelling threads ultimately conjoin with “I don’t care what happens to me. I never really have” as the PINNACLE of Dean’s 13-year long characterization; the progressive climax sparking his death/decay so that he can be reborn and revitalized aka THIS IS IT!! Dean’s impending death and self-sacrifice for his loved ones (CAS) = the ultimate catharsis in that S13′s narrative has finally approached the IRL scenario of 13x16 ghost kid (DEAN)’s release from father figure Bad Man -- from the negative influence of all the other literal (Loki, Odin, Lucifer, James Turner) and metaphorical (Asmodeus, Buddy, Michael) fatherly mirrors permeating this season. He’ll LET GO of everything that incarcerated him since he was 4 years old: his Blunt Tool role, control, manipulation, parental abuse and absenteeism, parental duty, the heteronormative patriarchy, and the long-standing trauma slapped on him by Alastair, Amara, and Cain.

He’ll burn the remaining pocket knife of all pocket knives tethering him to his past -- John Winchester x, x He’ll self-transform.

And Dean’s S13 death would fulfill the sacrificial Act of True Love (with Cas holding heavy weight in Dean’s decision for LOVE)--

--and S14 Winning Him Back in the subverted flavour of S10. Romance tropes abound!!

@thetwistedwillow and @sactownbrowns3 both ignited my stomach-churning feels. This is an extremely pivotal visual. The Michael-reminiscent sword and radiant halo-like lights atop Dean’s head? Yeah, set off HUGE Michael!Dean radars. Complete moral dualism with S10 Demon!Dean--selflessness vs selfishness. Free choice (saying yes to possession) vs stolen choice (demon transformation against his will).

Secondly, as aforementioned, Dean’s harbouring a LOT of traumas he hasn’t mentally confronted, with Daddy Issues™ re: John Winchester (reflected via Dean’s solo faceoff with Loki) as his overarching undealt source of trauma.

Loki tells Dean: “The truth is, [Odin] despised me, but he was my father. I’m sure you understand. What would you do for your father?”

And Dean stabs Loki’s hologram. He stabs the metaphorical father figure who neglected his sons. He stabs another narrative embodiment of John’s ghost, foreshadowing that Dean’s death = John Winchester’s final death. It’s time to deconstruct and conquer his influence.

(Gabriel was an extended mirror of both Dean and Sam, too. Gabe, the little brother whom deadbeat Daddy Chuck never paid attention to. ‘Ah, big bros, right? Always think they know best’ Gabe, who stabbed and killed deadbeat Loki. Gabe, who subsequently ran away from home, was used and tortured beneath Asmodeus’ control, embarked on a revenge trip, and didn’t feel good about it. Dean and Sam themselves knew what it felt like to be manipulated. While it’s true that their traumatic experiences are subjective, they share common Deadbeat Father-adjacent life courses.)

What beautiful and consistent silent storytelling!!

And oh look, narratively associated to this ^^ is the reappearance of Dean’s John-linked BAG OF EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE--

I can’t can’t can’t wait for him to let go of it PERMANENTLY!

And of course, Cas’ death remains his immediate significant source of undealt trauma (same links above: x, x, x)

*looks at Dean’s serious, intense, and emotionally laden expression* *clutches chest tight* *blinks away tears*

I additionally wrote something about Endverse!Cas and D/C (mis)communication a few months ago which I feel is relevant again:

And we know HUMAN Endverse!Cas was representative of that, a sad, depressed, and hollow depiction of the wrong choices for the right reasons who festers (AND DIES), in part because of Dean’s wrong choices, and also because of his own consciously uninformed, narrow-minded choices that led to this literal apocalypse of mind, body and soul.

5x04 laid down what Cas (and Dean) shouldn’t become. If both Cas and Dean (TFW) continue to fail in learning their lessons regarding healthy interdependence (where control must become equality; ignorance must become understanding; intransigence must become compromise; stonewalling must become transparency; lying must become honesty; silence must become communication), Endverse will be their life.

Thankfully, they’re learning as of S13 onwards and I’m ECSTATIC. Slow but sure progress (13x15′s conveying the shift), yet they still have to use the RIGHT WORDS.

Endverse!Dean, who never gave up his control to Cas nor listened to him, was himself consumed by the NEED over the WANT and an authoritarian means to an end. He lost everyone. And Endverse posed an ultimatum for Dean (and Cas’ own characteristic progress): keep your control forever, and you’ll have one destination–no growth, no life, no freedom.

Full circle!

Dean Winchester must die so he can live.

And what are Dean’s WINS (plural) by dying? Saving people instead of losing people--saving Mary, Jack, Sam, and Cas. Saving the world. Reuniting his family unit. Interacting instead of performing. OUTING INSTEAD OF HIDING. HIGH DEPRESSIONLESS SELF-WORTH INSTEAD OF LOW DEPRESSIVE SELF-WORTH.

Better yet, Dean will undergo character development in relation to his loved ones (and Cas). With high self-worth, Dean’s capable of learning how to value HIMSELF independently. In turn, without personal obstacles he’ll learn how to sustain HEALTHY interdependent relationships and COMMUNICATION as well as learn how to WHOLLY GIVE HIMSELF to others (Cas).

Tell Cas he’s not expendable, Dean. Disclose the real reason YOU “needed him back”. Expose your feelings, choose Want over Need, and push away your rejection fears! Cas loves you dearly—let him know that his love for you is reciprocated. Nothing but good things ahead!!

Gosh, this post is way longer than I expected—thank youu for sticking to it! Circumstances shall get worse before they get better, and it’s totally necessary to ensure our characters meet the final demise of their prisons.

BTW, I still can’t believe we got a borderline blatant onscreen bi!Dean (and Cas insert) treat!! What’s by is by! Overall I’m incessantly praising Dabb’s spectacular work so far + Glynn and Rich Speight Jr’s craft in this ep!!

Very little sub is left in the text, my friends. TPTB are rendering years’ worth of meta increasingly explicit in S13. I can only HOPE and expect that 13x23/S14 brings us past the Point of Know Return subtextual boundaries and into full-blown textual narrative! Authorial intent EXISTS.

**I know, I know--S14 wasn’t confirmed as the last season and S15 is fair game. The plot accordion, as per usual, re-emerges with the slight overhaul/pullback of characteristic arcs and narrative plot due to season renewals, but I’m Endgame Positive that slow progress is SURE progress. Imho Dean and Cas are so close in saying everything from saying nothing. THE UNSAID WILL BE SAID.

Bracing myself for the last 3 episodes—they’ll burn us in awesome ways!!

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solisluccile · 4 years

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Ways To Prevent Divorce Blindsiding Tricks

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#Ways To Prevent Divorce Blindsiding Tricks #How Can You Save Your Relationship

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