"Dad are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. What the hell is going on?"

"Why don't you tell us?" The other Dean, the one John still didn't believe was Sam, asked. "You're the one that seems to have lost it."

"Lost it?" John asked, his fury growing by the second. "I'm still not entirely convinced either of you are my boys. What are you? Shifters?"

"Dad, no!"

"Then you won't mind if I make sure." John said, pulling out the silver knife he kept in his pocket.

Both Deans looked at each other, shrugged, and pulled up their sleeves.

After nicking both of them with the blade, John muttered to himself, "What in the hell?"

"Dad? You want to go to Bobby's or something?" one of the Deans asked. At this point, John couldn't tell which one was supposed to be which. "You're kinda freaking us both out here."

"Just…just stop talking. Both of you." John said. He grasped the side of his head with both of his hands. "I'm still drunk. That's all this is. I'm still drunk."

"Dad…?"

"Stop calling me that!" John shouted.

One Dean flinched, and the other stood looking torn between following John's orders and restraining him until he could call Bobby. John realized that to get anywhere right then, he was going to have to calm down. So he took a deep breath and looked out at the two Deans in front of him.

"Boys, look. I'm okay. But something is wrong here. Very wrong."

"What, Dad?"

"First off, and I know this sounds crazy, but I want you guys to trust me." John said. "Do you?"

"Yes, sir." Both said at the same time.

"Okay. I'm going to ask some questions, and I need you guys to just answer them for me. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Again, both spoke at the same time.

"Alright, first of all, please don't do that again." John said, faking a smile to try and put the two of them at ease. "First question. What are your names?"

Both Deans looked at each other.

"Boys, just trust me. What are your names?"

"Dean Michael Winchester." One Dean said.

"Samuel William Winchester."

"Okay. How do I normally tell you guys apart?" John asked.

"Sammy has a birthmark right under his eye."

John looked to the Dean that was standing further away from him. Sure enough, just under the right eye, was a thin red birthmark, just visible enough to see. Did the real Sam had one there too? John wondered. Now that he had a basis to go on, he felt more relaxed. "Okay, Dean. I like your idea. Let's get to Bobby's. He can help us figure this out." John waited a moment, then realized what he was waiting on. Sammy to ask a question. A question that's not coming. "I have a few more questions. What are your birthdays?"

"January 24, 1979."

"Both of you?" John asked.

"Yeah, Dad." Dean answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "We're twins."

"Since when?" John asked, exasperated.

"Um, since birth." Sam said.

"Okay. Of course. Right." John sighed, knowing he wouldn't get anywhere now. "Alright. Pack up, boys. We leave in thirty."

"Dad, we're already packed."

"What?"

"We're already packed, Dad. We always are." Sam said.

"Okay." John said. Definitely not my Sam. "Alright. Give me ten minutes and we'll go."

"Yes, sir."

The two boys walked down the hall, grabbed their bags in their rooms, and were waiting for John on the couch when he came out. John had spent the ten minutes in his room looking for any indication at all that the Sam he knew still existed. He couldn't find a single photograph, a book, a note, anything. Somehow, someway, the Sam he knew had vanished.

The ride to Bobby's was a pleasant enough one. The two boys teased each other, but mostly talked with their father about things he was only half listening to. Finally, around fifty miles away from Bobby's, Sam pointed something out from the front seat.

"Dad?"

"What?" John asked.

"Um, I know we're not very far from Bobby's, but could we stop? Neither of us has eaten since breakfast this morning."

"What are you talking about? It's only…" John was shocked to learn that it was almost three in the afternoon. "Sorry, boys. Yeah, we'll stop."

"Thanks, Dad. I could use a bathroom too." Dean said.

"Why didn't you two say something earlier?" John asked.

"You just seemed really preoccupied. We didn't want to bother you."

John's thoughts of the lost Sam immediately turned to guilt. The real Sam would've been bitching two hours ago about being hungry, he thought. "Let's find a diner, guys. How about that?"

"Sure, Dad." Both boys said together.

Pulling into the diner, John realized how hungry he actually was. Another thought occurred to him, a painful one that caused his stomach to twist. If you'd stopped being such a damn jerk, you could've been starting on Sam's Thanksgiving by now. As John pulled in, he looked over at the Sam in the car that had replaced the one he knew. He seemed slightly quieter than Dean, but otherwise seemed to follow his father's every word.

Everything you used to wish the real Sam would do.

And suddenly, the answer came to him with the force of a hurricane. He had wished that Sam would be more like Dean, not only the night before, but many other times out loud and in his head. His 'wish' had come true. He'd suspected it was something supernatural before, but now he had no doubt. When the boys exited the car, John remained behind for a moment.

"I'm coming, Sammy. I'll get you back, and I'll make it all up to you. I swear."