Okay so this is my first story. I'm not the best with grammar or words in general but this idea popped into my head so I thought I'd give it a go. I know it's short and I'm going to fix that. This is sort of an introduction I guess. Feedback is great and I hope you enjoy (:

Chapter One

Tugging at the ropes that held him captive, Dean found that no matter how hard he pulled the bonds would not loosen. The sharp click of the safety releasing on his gun brought Dean's attention back to the man standing above him.

"I mean," the man started. "I could kill you right now, and your brother wouldn't even know that you're dead." He smirked. "But I'm not going to do that. It'd be too easy. I'll wait until little Sammy realizes that I'm not you, and then the games will begin. How long do you think it'll take, Dean, a day, a week, a month even?" The cloth in Dean's mouth prevented him from answering. "I can play you pretty convincingly. I even told that angel of yours to fuck off. Not even your precious Castiel will be able to let Sam know I'm an impostor."

Dean found that he was being held in a big empty room with metal walls. No light was coming through the windows. It must be night Dean thought. But it was light out when I left Sam? Dean couldn't remember what happened except for leaving Sam at the motel. Dean didn't know how long he had already been gone. He didn't know if Sam was okay.

The man crouched down, waving the gun in Dean's face. Dean's attention went back to the psycho in front of him. "It's your choice Dean-o, die now... or see if Sam will play along in hopes of saving you. But, if he doesn't figure it out in a week, you die anyway and Sammy is mine. You game?" He pulled the gag out of Dean's mouth, allowing the hunter to respond.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean spat. "I don't want to play your sick games. Untie me and we'll play a game right now!" Again, Dean pulled on the bonds in hope of wiggling free.

The man – if you even wanted to call him such – clucked his tongue. "Now, now Dean. That wasn't a choice." He placed the .45 against Dean's temple and fingered the trigger. "How 'bout this, either you play and Sam has a chance of living, or you die now and Sam goes right along with you, after I've had my way with him of course." Chills ran up Dean's spine at what he imagined this monster would do.

"If you lay a hand on my brother I swear it'll be the last thing you do! Don't you fucking touch him, you hear me! I'll kill you, I swear I will!" Dean was seeing red now. No one ever threatens Sam without having to face Dean, and paying dearly for it. The man saw this as an opportunity to force Dean into playing.

Smiling, the shifter stood and walked towards the center of the warehouse. Picking up another cloth and pouring some sort of chemical on it, he then made his way back to Dean. "It's really simple Dean, play or you die. Play or Cas dies. Play or Sam dies. Now what'll it be?"

Tugging on the ropes one last time, Dean realized there was no way he was getting out of them. Not seeing another way out, he conceded. He would do anything to keep Sam safe, even if it meant letting this sick bastard toy with Sam's mind until Dean could get free. If he died now, who would save Sam from 'himself'? Dean looked up and spoke with hardened eyes, "I'll play. But I swear if you hurt him in anyway possible I will hunt your sorry ass down myself and tear you apart. No one and I mean no one hurts Sam and gets away with it. Capiche?"

Dean's world went black as the shifter placed the chloroform filled cloth over his mouth. "Oh I'm so glad you changed you mind Dean. I knew you would." The impostor walked out into the morning air, closing the warehouse doors behind him. The now passed out hunter would only be able to last so long in the dark, damp warehouse without food and water. Climbing into the Impala, the shapeshifter took off to the motel he knew Sam would be staying in.

"Don't worry Sammy, I'm coming. Then the real fun begins."

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