Dean sat in a chair propped up against the wall. He figured on average Sam multiplied every couple of hours, so it was just a matter of time before it happened again. At least the sixteen Sams working busily in front of him had something to do.
"You're upset," one of the Sams said as he came to stand beside him. Dean had nicknamed him Number 5.
Dean eyed the Sams. One was surfing various websites on his laptop, looking for any information on Vedic symbols. Another one had Dad's journal. Another had a stack of books. Two of them were rearranging God knew what in their poor excuse for a kitchen. Yet another two were comparing notes. Some were on the floor. Somewhere Dean had lost count.
"You multiply faster than bunnies."
Five took a sip of coffee. "You're just jealous."
Dean forced a smile. "I'm the real deal. The one and only."
Five just gave him a patronizing pat on the shoulder. "Yes, you're very special."
Dean bit back a reply, a little unnerved at how close this Sam was hovering over him. "You find anything yet?"
"No, but we should soon. It's called division of labor."
"Yeah. And you're doing what exactly?"
"Supervising." He chuckled. "We'll be switching in an hour." He pressed his hand down on Dean's shoulder. Hard. "See? We didn't need Bobby for this. We're really efficient this way."
Dean let out a nervous laugh. "Oh yeah. I see just fine. Gonna suck for you all when we fix it."
The smile faded from Sam's face. He didn't say anything more, but gazed through him, making Dean squirm inside. There was a deadness in his eyes that chilled Dean to the core.
He needed to get back to the warehouse and find that damn stone. He needed to do something. There had to be some answers back at the warehouse or at least some clues that had been left behind.
He heard a chuckle from one of the Sams at the computer. "This says that multiple instances of matter taking up the same space and time could disrupt the harmony of the universe."
"Well, then I guess we'll just have to kill a few of us."
Dean stared.
The room erupted into a ripple of laughter.
He had to go now.
Slowly, Dean rose to his feet. He noticed two of the Sams look up to watch him. He decided not to say anything as he nonchalantly headed for the exit. Not surprisingly, one of the Sams met him at the door.
"Where are you going, Dean?" He pressed his hand against the door as Dean reached for the handle.
Dean glanced over his shoulder. Now ten of the Sams were staring at him. He shuddered.
"Hungry?" He forced another gleaming smile. "I'm starving. Nothing like a good conk to the head to give you the munchies." He rubbed his hands together, ignoring the little voice in his head that insisted on not feeding them after midnight. "Any takers?"
Sixteen voices all called out in unison for cheese pizza.
"Okay, cheese it is." Dean grabbed at the handle, but the Sam in front of him – Fifteen – didn't budge.
"I'll come with you," he said.
Dean chuckled. "I think I can handle it."
Fifteen loomed closer, his eyes dark. "I said I'll come with you."
Dean looked up at this Sam. He towered over him at his full height, his gaze unwavering. Never in as long as Sam was taller than him, had Sam ever intentionally used his size against him, not in any real threatening way. Not as Sam. Not ever.
He stared into those dark empty eyes and knew right then this wasn't Sam. He might wear Sam's face, speak in Sam's voice, walk with Sam's gait, but he wasn't Sam. None of them were Sam.
He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant.
"I'll start the car," Dean said in a hollow voice. "Meet me outside in five."
