Thinky Thoughts: Comfort Quest, or How Mary and I got square

Welp, now we know what Dean is doing with Billie's book.

He's building a box -- for Michael, for himself, for eternity. But first, a little trip. And it isn't a "sick, secret farewell tour," as Sam eventually says (we'll get to all that in the next post). As far as I see it, Dean is on a Comfort Quest -- and as we all know, it defines him, and it's what he fully deserves.

Before he sets off, he gives Sam an awkward but heartfelt hug -- one that immediately perplexes and disturbs the younger Winchester. Dean is obviously desperate for comfort here -- both to give and receive it, in that unique way that is absolutely Dean. I had to make sure I had captured this moment.

Then it's off to see Donna.

Who is more like Dean than Donna? She is also masterful at hiding (eating, burying) her pain -- something we don't get to see much of, given how rarely her character is on the show.

But she and Dean are kindred spirits in that way, and this scene by Davy encapsulates that perfectly. That innate caretaker impulse that I identify with so much: "Don't worry about me... are you OK?" Dean and Donna both present it, in spades.

Just look at that hug, how clearly the concern, the pain is written on their faces, and how quickly they put their "everything's fine (or okie-dokie, in Donna's case)" faces back on. Fucking brilliant. Jensen and Bri, Davy and Phil, a huge round of applause. Next time I say a burger is never just a burger, you'll know what I mean.

Comfort Quest heads next to Mary -- and boy, this had been a real sore spot for me. Since Mary came back at the end of Season 11, Dean has never been able to get what he needs from her. I know, he's not 4 years old anymore. I know, she never was the idealized vision of motherhood that Dean carried, like his faded photos, for his entire life. I know they had to learn to have a relationship like two peers, two adults. I know, I know, I know.

What I also know is that Dean Winchester is desperate for comfort. His life is defined by this desperation. He's desperate to give it and receive it. And no, I guess I can't blame Mary for not seeing this in her grown son. But she damn well knew it about her 4-year-old.

Anyway, enough bitterness. This post is subtitled: "How Mary and I got square." Because we are.

When this episode was over, I realized it was all I'd ever wanted from Mary. And no, not because she cooked Dean dinner. Because she finally saw him. Way back in "Who We Are," when Dean confessed that he hated Mary as much as he loved her, he begged her: "Mom, I need you to see me."

Here, at Donna's cabin, before she even knows how desperate Dean is, what he's planning, Mary finally sees him. She hears him. She listens to the story about his botched childhood efforts at making Winchester Surprise. She finally sees her little boys, alone in some motel room somewhere, fending for themselves -- with Dean shouldering the burden of responsibility. She finally hears about how John raged at them for stinking up the place -- for reminding him of her. 

All I ever wanted was for Mary to hear that, one time. She doesn't have anything to answer for. She wasn't even alive. I get that. But if she wants to know her sons as men, she needs to look that in the face. (Methinks there's more of that coming very soon. I'm talking to you, Episode 300.)

So, Mary extends that hand that Dean is so very desperate for. You know things are bad, because he turns her down. As we learn later, Comfort Quest is not about baring his soul, sharing his plan. It's about getting on with the business at hand, which once again is saving the world, the only way he knows how.

Next up: Secrets and lies, Season 14 style.