This is part one of a two-shot short fanfic I came up with. I hated seeing Sam without his soul, I didn't like him much that way either.
Sam is back but Dean knows the truth about him. His soul is gone. He feels the pain of the loss of the real Sam and wants him back. His pain is eating him up inside. He would never take having a soul or the real Sam back at his side for granted ever again. If only he could have him back, this guy was a cheap imitation and not even a good one at that.
Warning: This is Wincest, hinted at but nothing outright graphic. There is some bad language and some graphic violent references included. It is mostly showing the ways that Sam was different than he was when he had a soul and how Dean felt having to deal with that lacking, and oh so vital part of Sam not being there.
Dean uses bad language when he's mad, and, with Robo-Sam, that is most of the time, trust me.
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It started with a Vampire turning Dean while Sam watched on, smiliing.
It started a confused Truth goddess that demanded how Sam was doing it, lying to her. Dean knew only one way that was possible and so did she. That's when he had known that something was really wrong with Sam.
It ended with Cas's hand in his brother's chest and Cas's terrified look when the Angel found nothing in there. His soul was not there, it was still in the cage.
Dean had felt the difference in Sam.
He had sensed it, like the storm brewing on the horizon, one that promised a typhoon but hadn't arrived yet, except Dean was sure it would and when it did, it would try to drown him.
He stared at the confused man in the chair and now knew.
It wasn't Sam.
Oooooooooo
It had Sam's face.
It had his body.
It used his voice.
It took quick showers not long ones and there was always hot water left. Dean never once wanted to join It except to maybe exercise the urge to slam It head- first into to porcelain walls, not enough to kill but to really give the lying son of a bitch a real migraine. He itched to hurt the thing masquerading as his brother, his only love.
It joined him for drinks and said nothing when Dean had drank too much. Dean couldn't bear to look at It when it did join him, it only made Dean drink more than he was already.
It ate burgers and fries, and baked potatoes smothers in cheese, sour cream, and bacon pieces, and tons of sugary stuff. It worked out in Its free time and didn't try to include Dean; they had worked out together before.
It watched porn and never blushed or turned it off when Dean entered the room.
It had grace and precision when it killed.
It never comforted the victims or gave 'Sammy Eyes' or bitchface. It didn't know how.
It never flinched or bitched when It was hurt and was being stitched up, or was having bones reset, or was having something popped back in place. It did most of those things itself, never once thinking Dean might be able to help it or want to, which Dean didn't anyway.
Its eyes never once lit up with that look that said 'You just did something stupid and I'm going to make fun of you for it until you make me stop.' Its eyes were always empty and emotionless unless they were conning information out of witnesses. Robo-Sam was good at that, Dean ground his teeth every time It did that.
It never smiled in its sleep.
It would have sex with random women. It never offered a kind word or charming gesture when it kicked them out of the room right afterward.
It never called Dean 'Jerk' . That had been Sammy's thing not its.
It walked like Sam but not quite like Sam.
It talked like Sam and sounded fake, cold even.
When It rode in the Impala, It never complained about the music or the volume of that music. It stared straight ahead the whole time.
It took its own car on hunts sometimes and sped ahead of Dean's Impala, never giving him the chance to catch up to it, not that Dean wanted to. They took separate cars since Dean's skin crawled with revulsion around it now.
It never joked with him or laughed, or smiled with that little dimple, showing its rows of perfect white teeth that its soft lips which framed them so perfectly.
Sam wasn't in there.
It looked and smelled like Sam but it wasn't Sam.
It was the deadliest and coldest Hunter he had ever seen.
It was graceful and was proficient when hunting.
It was distant and always calm when not hunting, nothing getting in or out of it.
It barely talked or interacted with Dean at all.
Dean felt its shell and the emptiness within it.
It never noticed when Dean was uncertain or worried. It just didn't care.
It never asked if Dean was okay when he tried to hide he was injured or hurt.
It didn't feel like Sam.
It wasn't a shifter who had taken his form.
It wasn't a demon possessing him, like Meg had done.
It was an empty shell.
It wasn't Sam.
Ooooooooo
Dean fought side by side with It. He hated it. He hated that Sam wasn't in there. This was a pale imitation of him. It had started pretending to be Sam but then had given up once Dean had found out the truth. It said it wanted its soul back but it lied with every word.
It drove on ahead of Dean's Impala to Samuel's compound to get more information. Dean took the long route there. He was in no hurry to join it.
He felt the pain settle around his heart and ignored it. He let the hate begin to fill him but yet was not able to allow it to overcome his love for his true brother and his soul-mate, his missing piece was still missing and it hurt to realize. His Sam's soul still down in the cage and his Sam's shell up and about like a robot that looked like him but wasn't.
He tightened his jaw and drove on, not feeling himself breaking with every tick of the odometer.
He felt sick with the truth of it.
It wasn't Sam.
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Dean knows the being that he is living with is not Sam. He is not taking it well.
Please review and let me know if you liked.
There will be a second part to this called 'Sammy' which will talk about when Sam gets his soul back. I made this a two part short fic.
I welcome all reviews, good and bad, just please be constructive, flaming doesn't help me or you at all.
