A woman had mysteriously been slaughtered in her own home. There were no traces of anyone breaking in. The neighbourhood camera revealed her letting a man into the home, obviously someone she was familiar with. However, the picture was too blurry to make an accurate guess as to who the man was.

Possibly a shapeshifter, Sam thought, I'll have to check the footage.

"FBI here. I'd like a look at that tape," Sam spoke with authority. The man agreed at once, not even asking to inspect Sam's fake badge. It felt good to be on a case again, but a large part of him ached. He missed Dean. Sure, it was okay hunting solo without a soul, but now it was back, he felt so alone and incomplete. It wasn't right hunting without his counterpart.

"Here it is," the man interrupted his chain of thoughts. Sam saw the glowing eyes. Yep, I was right, it was a shape shifter.

"You don't know why his eyes are glowing, right?" Sam questioned the guard, looking for some humour.

"Well…er, maybe there was a glitch with the camera. Or he was wearing some kind of high-tech glasses."

"High-tech glasses? Really?" Sam mocked sarcastically.

"Well uh, I'll tell you what I really think…" the man looked both ways to check no one else was nearby before whispering in Sam's ear, "It's an alien. Spying on us. They're preparing to take over Earth." The guard looked so serious about it that Sam had to force himself not to laugh.

"I think you could be right there…you keep checking those tapes, and watch yourself." Sam said with all seriousness before exiting. Then he let out a roar of laughter. Ignorant humans always amused him the most.

He was about to make a joke to Dean only to realize that as he looked left, there was only air. His heart pained again – a feeling that he hadn't felt in a year, but now a constant suffering he endured. Oh, Dean…

Dean stood beside Castiel in the neighbourhood watching Sam from a distance. He felt proud of his younger brother, manipulating people with his fake badge. When he saw Sam burst in laughter, he felt himself chuckle absentmindedly in unison.

"What's so funny?" Castiel asked. "Could you hear the joke from all the way over here?"

"Oh…nevermind. You wouldn't understand." Dean had been giving Castiel the cold shoulder ever since their fight. He wasn't actually angry at him, but he was angry at himself. How could he give into his own selfish wants and abandon Sam? Even if he wanted a…relationship…with Castiel, he shouldn't have put it before his own brother. That's why he now had to distance himself from the man he loved; he couldn't allow him to get any closer.

Castiel was dying inside. He couldn't feel his heart anymore; only the empty vortex that remained after it was ripped out. He couldn't call himself an angel anymore either; he was as weak as any mortal. How could he allow himself to be consumed by human emotions? What pained him the most was having to stand by Dean all the time, helping him reconnect with Sam. Being next to him without being able to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him, like he did that one magical night…Oh, Dean…

Opening the manhole, Sam dropped down into the sewers. He knew it was the most probable place to find the shapeshifter. But what did it want? Equipped with a silver knife, Sam stealthily edged his way along the moudly walls. He would soon find out.

He searched for what seemed like hours, but was unable to find anything other than rats and other dead animals. His head itched the whole time. Sam had to fight the urge to use his knife to scratch his head…his hand twitching as his head ached more and more. But Sam had been bad. He had slipped up a few more times, scratching his head to relieve himself. Every time he did, it released ecstasy throughout his veins. However, at the same time, he saw flashes of red – a violent, bloody crimson and blood-curdling flames. Flames from hell. Each flash burned his eyes. What the hell was going on inside his soul?

As Sam began to relieve himself once more, scratching his head, the rush of blood trickling down again, he heard footsteps approaching. But it was too late! The shapeshifter delivered a heavy blow to Sam's torso, causing him to double over in pain. Sam lashed out with his knife in all directions, but he kept missing as the shapeshifter delivered more and more blows. On his knees, in agonizing pain, Sam roared, "What is it that you want?"

"It's not what I want, it's what the master wants. You and your brother dead. Forever." The shapeshifter hissed, cackling before delivering a final blow that knocked Sam to the brink of unconsciousness. He thought for sure he was a goner. But as the shapeshifter towered over him, Sam saw a sharp, silver blade coarse through its heart. The shapeshifter fell dead to the floor. Sam saw the faint figure of his older brother before the darkness swallowed him.

Sam awoke in his hotel room. His head throbbed so much it felt like the hangover of the century. Actually, he was surprised that every inch of his body didn't ache after the beating.

"Hey, Sammy…How are you feeling?" Dean smiled sympathetically. "Cas fixed you up, so you should be okay…except for your head…" his voice trailed off guiltily.

"Dean…you…came for me?"

"Not everyone ditches family." Dean snapped. Sam was taken aback by Dean's sudden response. He wanted to tell him about the rejection and isolation he felt after he saw Dean and Castiel together…to explain to him that was why he left, that he felt unwanted, unneeded…but he somehow couldn't find the words. Instead, he sighed. He lifted his hand up to scratch his head.

"What the hell are you doing?" Dean swiped Sam's hand away. "Do you want all those memories to come back or what?"

"You don't know what it feels like, Dean…" Sam whimpered.

Dean looked at his helpless, vulnerable little brother. He saw those puppy dog eyes of his that made his heart melt. What had he done?