"Sammy? How did you get here?"

"We should get going, Dean," replied Sam bluntly as he turned and started walking away.

"Where exactly are we goin'?" asked Dean as he stood up and brushed himself off.

"This way."

"Really? Like I couldn't see that already."

"Well, you're the dumbass that asked."

"Thanks Sammy. Nice t'see you too," answered Dean sarcastically, having caught up with his brother.

"Yeah, whatever," replied Sam coolly. "But we should get outta here."

Dean looked suspiciously at Sam. "How'd you find me?"

"Took a wild guess. After I saw the police at the motel."

"It was a guess? Not a vision?"

"No Dean. No visions. Just a guess based on the geography around the motel and what I know about you."

"Well, pretty good guess then. But, uhhh…Where's Dad?"

"I dunno," shrugged Sam.

Dean stopped and grabbed his brother's shoulder, pulling him to a halt beside him. Spinning him around to face him, Dean snapped angrily, "Whaddya mean you don't know? He was with you at the hospital all afternoon. I know he was. Because I was talking to him when he was there. And there ain't no way in hell you just walked outta there without him."

"No Dean, I didn't," retorted Sam. "We left together. But then we got separated."

"When? How?"

"After we pulled out of the parking lot," barked Sam, yanking Dean's hand off his shirt. "The cops were after us too, ya know," he snipped as he once again started walking away.

Dean thought about Sam's answer for a moment while he stood and watched him walk briskly away. "Hold up, Sammy. We need to talk."

"What's to talk about, Dean?" countered Sam without stopping. "Dad and I got separated when we were stopped by the police. That's it, that's all. I ended up here. And God knows where Dad ended up!"

"That doesn't make any sense, Sammy," disputed Dean heatedly. "Dad wouldn't let you outta his sight. Not after everything that's happened. And everything he knows."

This time Sam stopped and spun around to face his brother, spreading his arms widely out to each side and yelled, "Whaddya want me to say, Dean? That Dad's waitin' in his truck just around the corner? That we came here lookin' for you after we left the hospital? And he sent me back here to come get you? Huh? Is that what you want me to say?"

"I don't want'ya to say anything Sammy. I just want'ya to tell me the truth."

"I told you the truth Dean! There's nothing else I can tell you! Because that's what happened! I just don't know how I can convince you!"

"Okay! Okay! I hear ya!" bellowed Dean as he stormed over to Sam, eyeballing him angrily as he approached. "But ya gotta admit, it does sound pretty suspicious."

"Only because you want it to, Dean! Because you're suspicious of everything!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, it is! You've been suspicious of everything ever since Mom died!"

Yeah? Well maybe if she'd been a little less trusting and a lot more suspicious, she'd still be alive! Maybe I've learned that you have to be suspicious to stay alive! So you don't end up being caught off-guard by something you weren't expecting!"

"Like what Dean? Like me? Like maybe I'm not really me? Maybe I'm some sorta monster or demon that's come to hunt you down? And kill you? Because last time I checked, I was trying to get you the hell outta here before the cops arrived! But if you don't wanna trust me, Fine! Stay here! And take your chances by yourself! But I'm leaving! I'm not sitting around here waiting for the cops to show up, that's for sure!"

And with that, Sam turned and angrily strode away. He didn't turn around once. He never stopped to see if Dean was following him. Nor did he slow down before he rounded the corner of the building and disappeared from sight. He was leaving. Whether Dean went with him or not. That much was obvious. So Dean took a deep breath before he reluctantly stormed after his brother.

But, as he hurried to catch up, Dean felt for the gun that was shoved into the waistband of his jeans.

Just in case.

Because there was something about this that just wasn't adding up.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

John stared down at Sammy as intense anger slowly overtook the fear that was cursing through his veins. Anger at what was happening to his son. Anger at not being able to help him. Not being able to stop it. Not knowing how to stop it. Or even where to begin. Anger aimed at the demon that was consuming his son's vitality as John frantically sought out a countermeasure to free him. But no matter how hard he tried nothing came to mind. No remedy. No cure. Not even an iffy band-aid solution.

Because nothing he had ever researched delved deeply into this topic. There was little real information on Mephistopheles. How he operated. How to deal with him. And certainly not how to exorcise him. There was no written documentation to indicate that any hunter – past or present – had ever encountered him. So that left only the testament contained in Christian mythology. Testament that was extremely vague and focused mainly on his ejection from heaven. And his subsequent allegiance with Satan. Religious mythology and propaganda intended to scare people. And trap them firmly in the clutches of the church. And even though he was scared, John wasn't a religious man. Hadn't been for a long time. And he sincerely doubted this had anything to do with God. Because he didn't believe that God even existed.

But Mephistopheles did. And so did Satan. And a million-and-one other demonic entities. All of whom wanted to conquer and obliterate the human race. For no other reason than that's what they did. But Satan and Mephistopheles were different. They did it for power. Because if Satan prospered, so did Mephistopheles. He was as wicked as Satan. And just as evil. Having risen to the position of Satan's second-in-command. His right-hand man so to speak. And now his claws were clamped deeply into Sammy. And he wasn't likely to let go.

Not unless John could figure out how to sever the connection.

For the umpteenth time that day, John seized Sam's shoulders and drew him closer. The only evidence he was alive was the systematic beating of his heart. But even that was dull and lethargic. He looked and acted dead. Sammy was completely lifeless. Like a rag doll in John's arms. His body was limp. And unresponsive. His skin cold and ashen. Giving off a ghastly hue of white. Like a freshly-dead corpse.

But his eyes were the worst.

Because eyes are the windows to the soul.

And Sam's eyes had sunk deeply into their sockets. They were empty. And hollow. Devoid of life. Sightless and unseeing. There was nothing discernible in them. It was like staring into an enormous chasm. One that contained only darkness. And death. Completely shrouded from light. And life. Drained of all existence. And Sam was being swallowed by it. His soul eviscerated. His life-force wiped-out. Annihilated by the demon that dwelled there. And was hell-bent on ravishing him.

But for what purpose?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Dean fell in alongside his brother but neither one of them acknowledged the other. They walked side-by-side across the property but anger and resentment lingered in the air all around them. As they walked Dean cast intermittent glances at Sam, who refrained from making any attempt to acknowledge his brother's presence.

Sam walked the length of the grounds without hesitating until it became obvious that he was headed toward the bushes that bordered the yard near the road. Dean stayed beside him the entire way but his trepidation grew the closer they got to perimeter. And, just before the asphalt ended, Dean stopped. He watched silently as Sam walked onto the grass and headed into the woods without slowing his pace.

"Sam!" called Dean forcefully before his brother disappeared from sight.

There was no response from Sam.

"Sammy!" he yelled harshly.

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. He drew in a deep breath, causing his shoulders to heave before he spun around rapidly and barked, "I told you I'm not waiting, Dean!"

"Just where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I'm getting us out of here!"

"Through the woods?" asked Dean incredulously. "Because I just came from there and I don't think that's such a great idea!"

"Got any better suggestions?"

"Yeah I do! I think we should just steal a car."

"And that's less likely to draw the attention of the police?" retorted Sam angrily.

"It'll get us further. Faster." Dean replied irately, "And those damn dogs won't be able to track it!"

Sam glared back at Dean, but it was as if he had never thought of that. "But it'll be reported stolen and it won't take the cops long to figure it out."

"So?" countered Dean hotly. "By then we'll have found Dad and ditched the car."

"You sure about that?" challenged Sam, still not ready to cave to Dean's position.

"Trust me, Sammy."

"I dunno, Dean."

"Suit yourself," shrugged Dean. "Go ahead and walk. But I'm takin' a car." With that, he turned and headed back toward the building where at least half a dozen cars were parked along the side.

Sam watched him go before he hesitantly asked, "Dean? How you gonna get it going?"

Dean glanced back in bewilderment at his brother. "What do you mean how'm I gonna get it going? I'm gonna hotwire it Einstein."

"You can do that?"

Dean stared at Sam in confusion. "Of course I can hotwire a car. I've been doin' it since I was twelve. Or did you forget that?"

"Yeah," replied Sam timidly, as he took a couple of step toward Dean. "I guess I did."

Dean shook his head before he snorted, "You really musta hit your head hard in that accident, Sammy."

Content that his brother was going to join him, Dean turned around and once again strode toward the building. He cautiously surveyed the lot for any sign of trouble; anything that indicated someone might be observing them. But nothing caught his eye so he veered toward the car that was parking closest to the back of the building. As he approached it, he noticed that the car beside it had been left unlocked. Deciding that to be an advantage he couldn't ignore, Dean decided to take that vehicle instead. As he slid into the river's seat, he saw Sam's silhouette appear in the passenger door window. But he didn't open the door and get in; he just stood beside the car.

Dean wasn't sure if Sam was still undecided about joining him or if he was keeping a lookout for trouble, but he didn't waste any time worrying about it. He knew Sam would eventually get in and right now he had to concentrate on getting the car started before they were discovered. After jamming his pocketknife into the steering column to break the lock, Dean pulled out the ignition wires, touching them expertly together until he was successfully able to start the car.

He sat up with a smug smile on his face and was about to find out if his brother planning on getting in when the passenger door opened and Sam slipped his large frame inside. It was a tight squeeze; the compact car didn't lend itself well to tall people. Even Dean had had to adjust the seat to fit in. And the top of his head brushed up against the ceiling. So with at least four inches extra, Sam had to scrunch down in the seat. And he didn't look too happy about it.

Dean smirked at his brother's plight as he backed out of the parking spot before throwing the car into gear and driving out of the lot. He turned out from the industrial park and headed toward town.

After they had driven is silence for a few minutes, Dean asked, "Where do you think Dad went?"

"I dunno Dean. You know him better than I do."

"Ya know, for a kid who got a full ride to Stanford, you're not very bright."

Sam glared at Dean, asking heatedly, "You tryin' to tell me something?"

Dean shrugged. "Other than you're not being very helpful. And you're not really acting like yourself either."

"Bite me," replied Sam bitterly before added quietly, "Jerk" and turning to stare out the window.

"Well, that's a little more like it," quipped Dean. "But it's still not very helpful."

"Dean, I don't know where Dad went. But he's probably lookin' for you."

"I don't think so, Sammy. I think he'd be lookin' for you.'

"For me? Why would he be lookin' for me?"

Dean glanced at his brother. But he didn't answer. There was definitely something wrong with Sammy. 'Cause something just wasn't adding up. Even if he was suffering some sort of post-trauma distress from the accident. Or suffering some kind of concussion. He still wasn't acting like Sammy.

Maybe that was it. Maybe he was acting like Sammy. And acting was the best he could do.

Because maybe he wasn't Sammy.

With a heavy sigh, Dean turned his attention back to driving. And while he stared straight ahead, seemingly fixated on the road in front of him, his mind was focused elsewhere. Thinking about his brother. Or whatever it was that was sitting beside him. Because the more time they spent together, the less convinced Dean became that he – or it - was Sam. Sure, it looked and sounded like Sam. It had even done a respectable job imitating him. But not quite good enough. Not to fool Dean. Because, if there was one thing Dean knew, it was his brother. He knew him inside out, upside down and backwards. Knew how Sam acted.. How he felt. How he thought. He knew when he was lying. And when he was telling the truth. He knew exactly who Sam was. And who he wasn't.

But what Dean didn't know was what was impersonating him.

Or why.

But it was most definitely an imposter. Dean was convinced of that. Too many things just didn't add up. There were too many coincidences. And oddities. Sam's behavior being the oddest of all. Not knowing where Dad was. Not thinking to steal a car – something all three of them had had to do on countless occasions. But the strangest aspect was the lack of injuries. Because, hadn't he been in a car wreck? Fallen into a coma? And almost died? But here he was sitting in the passenger seat with no apparent injuries. Not a scratch or mark on him.

And that was impossible. Unless he wasn't really Sam. Unless he was some other type of entity. Something wicked. And evil. Evil enough to try to pass itself off as the most important person in Dean's life. But for what purpose? And to what end?

Dean glanced sideways at his brother, wondering just how dangerous he was. There was no way of knowing. Not without arousing its suspicions. So Dean was going to have to come up with another approach. He took a deep breath and stretched back in the seat. Then he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, letting it linger there briefly. And while his hand rested on the base of his neck, his fingers worked fervently to undo the cord around his neck. When he finally got it unlatched, he held both ends tightly while he gently continued massaging his neck, tucking the ends of the necklace into the back of his t-shirt at the same time, Then with a final deep breath, Dean removed his hand from behind his head and placed it back on the steering wheel.

Then he waited.

Until the vibration of the car as it drove down the road wiggled the cord free of his shirt and the necklace fell onto his lap. He looked down at the cord with its attached amulet and sighed.

"Damn," Dean uttered under his breath.

Sam turned to look at him. "What's the matter?"

"Nothin'" responded Dean dispiritedly. "I just lost my talisman, that's all."

"You lost it?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Well, I didn't really lose it," admitted Dean. "It just kinda fell off my neck," he added as he picked it up off his lap, holding it by the amulet.

"Oh," responded Sam. "At least you didn't lose it."

"Good thing," affirmed Dean. "This thing is way too important to lose."

"Yeah? How's that?" enquired Sam, his interest peaked.

"Ahh…I'll tell ya later. When I'm not so tired," replied Dean. "But in the meantime, do ya mind holding this for me?" And he tossed the necklace and amulet toward his brother.

Sam instinctively reached for it, but as soon as the talisman touched his hand, his palm began to smolder. He flung the amulet into the air as if it was on fire, but it landed on his leg, causing more smoke to emerge from underneath it. Sam tried shaking his leg to remove the offending item without touching it, but it was stuck to his leg. He tried taking a swipe at it to rid himself of the talisman but, although he had succeeded in dislodging it from his leg, it was now securely attached to the back of his hand. Without thinking, Sam seized it with his other hand to try to pull it off. But now both of his hands were stuck.

And the smoke emanating from around the necklace increased until it had permeated the interior of the small car. Suddenly a putrid smell also filled the air as the powers contained in the mysterious amulet sought out the demonic entity inside Sam's body. But something in the flesh wasn't right and it festered and bubbled as the demon tried in vain to maintain control of its human form. But the amulet's powers were too strong and the unknown entity finally vanished into thin air, leaving behind no indication that it had ever existed.

With the creature gone, Dean's necklace fell harmlessly onto the passenger seat. Dean looked at it for a moment before grabbing the amulet and shoving it deeply into his pocket.

And, three-quarters of the way across town, at exactly the same moment, John felt Sam's body stiffen. He twitched violently before giving way to uncontrollable spasms that slowly faded into small quivers. John stared distressfully at his youngest son, not at all sure what any of this meant. And then, as quickly as it had started, Sam stopped shaking and he opened his eyes.

"Dad? What's happening to me?"