Skin-What if Sam didn't get untied?
Sam lay tied up on the kitchen floor as the shape shifter went on monologuing. It was so funny that he was in Dean's form monologuing, because Dean hated monologues.
"I'm really going to miss this skin," the shifter said, "You really should appreciate him more."
The shifter picked up a knife and knelt down towards Sam. He dragged him up and placed him on a kitchen chair. "Now, I'm going to carve you slowly, because I love to see the fear and pain in my victims' eyes. Do you know why?"
Sam shook his head. He couldn't speak while staring at the shiny blade.
"Because I have all the memories and emotions of the person who's skin I take and so I know how much they love the victim and how much the victim loves them. And then it makes me mad that nobody loves me."
"Maybe somebody would love you if you didn't go around killing everybody," Sam ventured.
The shifter just smiled viciously and cut Sam's arm. Sam screamed.
"Oh, that reminds me, can't have the neighbors hearing you." He grabbed a gag and roughly shoved it in Sam's mouth tying it tightly behind his head.
"That's better, now where were we?" "Oh, yes, I was about to give you a tummy tuck," he laughed as he cut into Sam's stomach. Sam grunted out in pain behind the gag. The shifter laughed.
"Hey!" Sam and the shifter both turned toward the door, to see Dean standing there pointing a gun at the shifter. The shifter quickly knelt behind Sam's chair and put his knife up tight against Sam's throat. Sam let out a whimper.
"Let him go!!!" Dean demanded.
"Why don't you drop the gun," the shifter calmly countered.
"I don't think so."
"Fine, maybe we'll just go have our party somewhere else," the shifter sneered. He pulled Sam up by the back of his collar, keeping the knife tight to his throat. When they were both fully standing, he pulled Sam up against his chest and started backing toward the back door.
"If you so much as come a step toward us, you get to watch yourself kill what you're supposed to protect," the shifter threatened.
Dean watched the scene unfolding before him not sure what to do. He couldn't let the shifter leave with Sam. He knew he would never see him again. On the other hand, if he tried to stop him, the shifter would slit Sam's throat here and now.
Dean quickly formulated a plan. He could only kill the shifter with a shot to the heart, which Sam was inconveniently being held in front of. However, if he shot the shifter in the head, which was exposed, right now, he would probably fall back away from Sam long enough for him to run up and shoot him in the heart.
Probably, he didn't like that word in this situation, but as the shifter was only inches from the door with Sam, he didn't have much of a choice. Dean took one last look at Sam and saw the pain etched in his face, as the shifter dragged him backwards. Dean pulled the trigger and hit the shifter square in the middle of his forehead. The shifter staggered back, momentarily releasing Sam. Sam fell forward, out of the way and Dean shot the shifter in the heart with a silver bullet killing him instantly.
Dean ran up to Sam and lifted him to a sitting position. Dean reached over to grab the shifter's knife to cut Sam free and Sam tried to back away from him. "Shh, shh Sam it's me." Dean tried to calm Sam down. Sam still looked terrified at the sight of the knife.
"OK, we'll do this the hard way if it makes you feel better." Dean reached around Sam's head and untied the knot in the gag and then went to work on the ropes tying his hands. "Wow, the shifter really knew his knots. Sam, it will be so much easier if I can use a knife."
Sam nodded nervously and Dean reached over for the knife and cut Sam free?
"Where's Becca?" Sam rasped out.
"She's outside, I told her not to come in no matter what she heard."
"OK, can we leave, it's a little troubling looking over at "your" dead body."
"I'm with you there," Dean laughed as he helped Sam to his feet and they left the house.
The End.