
I strongly believe that one of the greatest journeys a human being can undertake is crossing the distance between two people. Especially when that space keeps changing, losing perimeter or becoming almost too vast to even dare to think it might be possible. It is a theme that has been one of the undercurrents of Supernatural from season one. Two men, very much alike but sometimes so painfully distant from each other, losing their way and finding it again.
A Chance for Growth on Planet Winchester
I strongly believe that one of the greatest journeys a human being can undertake is crossing the distance between two people. Especially when that space keeps changing, losing perimeter or becoming almost too vast to even dare to think it might be possible. It is a theme that has been one of the undercurrents of Supernatural from season one. Two men, very much alike but sometimes so painfully distant from each other, losing their way and finding it again.
These two brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester have probably been at important a turning point as this one. Not only because of their knowledge of the supernatural, but because they refuse to accept circumstances. It’s a double-edged sword, unfortunately. On the one hand it allows them to question everything from death to fate and fight against it, on the other hand it keeps them imprisoned in a perpetual objection against the forces of nature and the spiritual world – death, God’s will (or whatever one might call it), natural order, etc.

They are unable (for the most part) to accept what every other person without their awareness and tools has to live with – that people die. It’s a heartbreaking fact, but a fact nonetheless. It tears you up like only the loss of a loved one can and leaves you vulnerable to the possible loss of others. Life is often unfair when it comes to that kind of bereavement. And it’s often illogical. It’s easier to understand that the old die when they reach the end of their journey. But how give sense to the passing of a child? A young mother who is killed, never to see her children grow up? A young lover who is taken by drowning, never to return to the woman he loved? A child that dies while still in the womb and isn’t allowed to take even one breath of air? It’s hard to accept. I have myself often wondered – if I had the possibilities and the knowledge these Winchesters have, would I have tried to change the course of life for the people I continue to miss? I would love to exclaim: yes, of course! But, who knows?
What I do know, however, is – that accepting the fact that people die makes it easier, eventually, to go on living. And it allows the pain to ultimately take a back seat.
Sam and Dean still need to learn about the necessity of accepting that. It’s an important part of their journey they will struggle with. Their incapability of taking some circumstances and living with them has proven to be a constant thorn in their sides, precisely because they are so close. In this nearness of their souls lies their pain and their salvation, alike, doesn’t it?
I wonder, in all that mayhem that has been their lives’ melody over the years, have they ever taken a moment to realize that the sheer fact that they are still here and alive might be a visible symbol of invisible grace? A grace I’d like to call closeness of soul, to put it poetically, which has never truly suffered, but remained constant.
It is a very human need, also, to belong to someone. It’s a necessity for our survival. Babies left alone without the security of attachment die. When we grow up, the wish to belong to someone is at the centre of our soul. It gives our lives balance. As long as we feel the warmth this sense of belonging provides, we take it for granted.

Sam and Dean have felt this tight connection for all their lives, as they have been each others’ towers of strength. One always knew that the other was there, no matter what. It saved their lives countless times and continues to do so. I don’t think that this deep alliance has ever been severed. But we have seen the aftermath of those moments when they believed it had been.
Most of all, Dean experienced the loss of that security, when his life’s compass (being the protector of his family, in particular of his brother, an inner law created the moment he carried baby Sammy out of the burning house and fired up by John’s assigning of Dean to be Sam’s guardian) was unsettled – when he lost Sam twice (in All Hell Breaks Loose and Swan Song) and during seasons four and five when he felt Sam had succumbed to the forces of evil and was slipping away from him.
Dean then did not belong anymore. The anchor to his life’s quest and his inner sanctum was gone. We saw what it did to this wonderful man – he became vulnerable to fear and negativity and had trouble keeping his good spirits up. Who wouldn’t?
With Sam it was slightly different, but he also lost (or believed that he had) what he depended on the most in this life after he lost Jessica (before that he had established a healthy distance from his family, pursuing his own goals, finding his own purpose in life) – his brother’s trust and love. After Jessica’s loss all he felt he still had, was the need for revenge and the understanding and comfort coming from his brother. There was the feeling that his father never accepted him as the independent person he was, and Dean probably did by having his back. Just as Dean was proving to dad (even after John’s Death) that he was good at his job and the son he wanted him to be, Sam was trying to prove to be worthy of his brother’s trust by doing what he felt to be right.
Both brothers had no idea where this would lead.
The problem with decisions is – we only can choose by estimating what we feel is right at the very moment we have to make a decision. At this point we have no chance of knowing whether or not our decision will turn out to be right. We have to decide according to our own integrity, our sense of honour, our conscience.
Sam and Dean, both, made decisions that turned out to be disastrous. Unfortunately that wounded their sense of belonging and the closeness their souls were attuned to. As a result we found two brothers at odds with and distanced from each other, but only on the surface. Because – in this established distance (fueled by disappointment, hurt, loss) the deep longing for each other’s nearness has not ceased. On the contrary, it created more pain in their minds.
We need to regulate nearness and distance. It’s vital to our mental state. The moment we try to fixate this dynamic and flexible process (at times we need more distance, then again more closeness) we damage our capability to grow. When we want to keep it the way it is, for example because we feel comfortable with it or want to control it. As a result we create circumstances that make us feel isolated, lonely or excluded (for instance the other, who needs more distance at present, might push us away). And the outcome of that, regrettably, is often more distance. The crocotta in Long Distance Call described it quite accurately – how we think to be so connected and yet are further apart than ever.
Because the connection the crocotta referred to is an external one. It is often associated with an inner connection, too, which it isn’t for the most part. When the outer rules we create lie in ruins, we need to rediscover our deeper means of belonging.

I believe Sam and Dean are at a watershed mark. The deals both made, the decisions they found, the hurt they inflicted upon another have turned out to be too much of quicksand quality to actually build a life on them. There is no stability in their lives. The only constant has always been their inner connection and sense of belonging they need to revive while accepting that both are individuals, on an individual journey and yet with a common purpose. The concept of belonging is also a flexible one. It’s not lasting; it changes its face according to the circumstances of life.
I wish for Sam and Dean to be able to finally embrace their vulnerability to physical and mental pain. And accept that there are unchangeable factors they can’t fight. It would not mean to shed all they gained by fighting on Team Free Will. But it would set them free from the cruel need to alter painful facets at the cost of their own lives, their mutual trust or an increase of fear and irritability. Hopefully that might help them to entirely comprehend that one doesn’t die without the other, that both are independent men, which they basically are.
And then both would be able to grow, instead of repeatedly stepping back to methods of changing reality and/or destiny and thereby diminishing their progress and development. Which would, eventually, enable them to meet each other on eye level, as true equals – allowing them to be closely connected brothers, completing their journey to the other.
Oh Jas…your writing always makes my heart happy. I could not agree more with your observations here. I especially love the observation about choices when you say “The problem with decisions is – we only can choose by estimating what we feel is right at the very moment we have to make a decision. At this point we have no chance of knowing whether or not our decision will turn out to be right. We have to decide according to our own integrity, our sense of honour, our conscience.â€
I’d like to further extend this observation by noting that when we decide, we are also taking responsibility for that decision. For me, your observation about choice, about choosing as always estimating, exposes a basic premise in Supernatural: Free Will v. Fate. The ability to make a choice accompanies the responsibility of that choice, a lesson that the brothers encounter time and again but did not fully internalize until season 5. I think the narrative of vengeance, which preoccupied Sam for seasons 1-4, is the twin brother to Fate. Vengeance is the silent acknowledgement of destiny, since revenge embodies the extreme reaction to (and action against) powerlessness, which is the hallmark trait of fate. So if they have moved past vengeance, they have grown.
Thanks Yume! As I have watched the episodes, especially the different reactions from Sam and Dean with regards to vengeance, it seemed that when they have been at the moments of extreme powerlessness is the moment they have enacted some sort of revenge. I had a professor tell me one time that “Power is in action; powerlessness is in reaction.” And I have to say the brothers tend to perform this epigraph. I think of the torture scene in “On a Head of a Pin,” and how Dean could only navigate Alastair’s torture as revenge since he felt powerless to do anything else. I think “Mystery Spot” though, demonstrates the most poignant level of revenge and actually ties to this season’s Sam portrayal. A Sam without a soul is comparable to a Sam obsessed with vengeance, at least to my mind. So, if we play a little at syllogism, perhaps vengeance is the closest thing to soullessness a human can approach?
Fantastic! They need to let go of attachments. Perhaps some day, at the very end of the series, but for now, it is difficult to imagine that they can get there.
I agree, Yume. The brothers always try to improve the circumstances. They, at no point, made a choice out of malicious intent toward an innocent. And I agree about Sam, in both posts. He was raging against the fate he so wanted to change.
I’ve not thought about this in quite these terms before. The added torture of not believing death as an absolute. As if these poor boys didn’t have it rough enough as it is! What a terrible state of mind in which to live (and die). No end in sight. No final rest. No peace, because there is always room for hope. This is just depressing!
I’m with you on wishing they will accept their vulnerability. Especially to death. No one, NO ONE, should go through life having their one absolute be another person. To place a person over the certainty of death? There is nothing healthy in that. Disturbing actually. How has this not bothered me so much before? I mean, ya, it was bad they made the deals, but in this light…those poor boys. It is no wonder their relationship has deteriorated. And it is no wonder they are so desperate to give so much to keep the other around. What a messed up way to live one’s life. I’m so very thankful that this is just a tv show! Which may sound odd, but how terribly awful it would be if there were actually two people out there whose entire faith centered around keeping the other alive. I’m seeing Dean’s ability to ‘allow’ Sam to jump in that hole in a fresh, and more hopeful, light.
Ok, I’ll stop ramble/reacting. Thanks for the article Jas. Made me think new thoughts about this wonderful show.
It’s a good article, but I disagree with the statement that they are unable to accept death. They’ve accepted a number of deaths in their lives: their mother, their father, Jess, Ellen and Jo. They would have accepted Cas’s and Bobby’s deaths had other forces not intervened and brought them back. The only deaths they won’t accept are those of each other. Most people probably have one or two people whose death they really cannot accept. The difference is that normal people don’t have the knowledge and tools to bring those people back whereas Sam and Dean do.
Thank you all for commenting, kind readers! I am a bit late to this party and can’t really get into answering your interesting, fascinating, honest comments, as my head is spinning with a heavy cold, but I just wanted to drop a line and say thank you. Happy that you enjoyed this article.
Love, take care, Jas