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Whiplash Smile

An Ode to Dean Winchester

By Edith (yesterday4)Published 3 years ago 3 min read
2

To Dean Winchester,

This is an ode to you. This is an ode to the family you founded, speeding onto my TV screen for well over the past decade, engine roaring and classic rock pumping through the speakers. You have been a constant to me, from my early twenties to my mid-thirties. This letter is my thank you.

I have always loved a man with swagger. Call it what you will. It is stereotypical. It is a cliche. The girl who loves to read, the girl who loves to write--of course she loves the bad boy!

I was primed to love Supernatural, and you in particular, Dean. As a girl, I was utterly besotted with Charlie from Rose in Bloom; with Laurie from Little Women. There has always been something about a tough exterior, hiding a gentle soul. I can hear you gagging, Dean. Of course that gentle soul hides behind a world of snark; a world of I-don't-give-a-fuck, never mind the hundreds of fucks you do indeed give.

The first time I saw Supernatural, we were living in the country home I grew up in. Appropriate, since that episode was called Home. It was night time, and there was no one in the house but me. I could see the ravine from my spot on the couch, trees moving and branches creating ominous dark shapes. It was a different era, you understand. We weren't as desensitised to everything as we are now, which is to say that Home scared me shitless. Irregardless, I was hooked.

What got me was you and Sam. I loved the relationship you two fostered, sentimental but not (always manly!), as you cruised America in Baby. I had always liked classic cars myself; it was something I shared with my dad. I watched as it was something that you also shared with yours. I watched your relationship with your brother, and I, as a viewer, was addicted to how real it was--minus the demons, of course. I saw your love for Sam reflected in my love for my little sister; I knew that I too would sell my soul to save her.

You are a fighter, Dean. No matter what you were up against, you never gave up. You fought every demon in your path with your signature charm and swagger, and you taught me to be brave.

You moved with me to a new city. I made friends binge-watching Supernatural. You finished university with me. After my graduation dinner, I read--and wrote, not ashamed to say--Supernatural fan fiction. I had been a prolific Harry Potter fan fiction writer (Draco and Hermione, please see above for explanation!), and you and your world re-introduced me to the creative side of writing that being a Technical Writer was slowly but surely stamping out.

When my sister had her children, you were there too. Re-watching the show, I cross-stitched blankets for my nephew and then my niece, a neat row of x's while you discovered angels, while you discovered Heaven. The early episodes are humourous to me now; I see you young and I remember that I too once had the entire world before me.

Here, at the end, I want to say thank you. We grew up together, you and I, my little sister and Sam. You are in every Christmas card since the early 2000s, my sister affectionately signing off as Sammy on the cards addressed to Dean. You are in my hobbies now, as my boyfriend and I explore graveyards and the locale of creepy legends. When my step-kids are older, I will introduce them to you. Supernatural is the family business, right?

Rock salt, Devil's traps, saving the world--thank you sincerely for being a part of mine.

In the words of Castiel, I love you. Goodbye.

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About the Creator

Edith (yesterday4)

An aspiring writer from Alberta, Canada.

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