Sam hadn't said much after the declaration about Stanford, simply stepping over to his suitcase, which Dean's rampage had left untouched, and throwing the few things he brought with him in. Climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala, Sam hadn't even commented when Dean began blasting Metallica.

"Earth to Sammy?" Dean took his hands off the steering wheel for a minute to wave them in front of Sam's face. "You ok with this?"

"I don't know," Sam answered honestly, his head leaning against the cool window. "It's going to be weird, that's for sure." He tilted his head to look at his brother. "Are you ok with this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean asked, staring straight ahead, his knuckles white where he tightly gripped the steering wheel.

"Well, I mean…I left you and Dad to go to Stanford." Sam's hesitant answer was met by silence on Dean's end. "Are we gonna talk about that?" Dean still didn't answer, and Sam raised his voice. "Ok, then why don't we talk about what the hell you were doing with a gun pointed to your head?"

Dean sighed, still refusing to look at Sam. "How about we don't, Sammy?"

"It's Sam, and how about we do? Dean, if I had woken up a second later…" Sam took a deep breath in through his nose, trying to calm himself. "I don't even want to think about it."

"Then don't," Dean answered bluntly, but Sam could see his hands were shaking on the wheel.

"I can't stop thinking about it!" Sam finally shouted, slamming his hand down on the dashboard. "One second more, Dean…one second more. I mean…"

"Look, I don't want to talk about it!" Dean exploded, slamming his own hands down on the steering wheel. Sam was silent for a moment, not knowing what to do, just staring out the window, then he suddenly broke the silence.

"I've been through this too, Dean." Sam twisted in his seat to face his brother, who stared back at him in confusion. "A shapeshifter took your shape once too, Dean, and I had to get the shit kicked out of me by someone who looked exactly like you. I thought I was going to die with a face that looked like yours staring at me with more hate than I've ever seen in my life."

"Sam…"

"And then Dean, I had to watch what looked exactly like you get shot in the chest and die! For a minute my heart stopped, ok? I swear to you I stopped breathing. Cause there's your face hanging over the edge, and blood's leaking down your chest, and you're dead! And I couldn't see you anywhere, and he had your necklace, and it wasn't until you stepped in next to him and looked at me that I knew you were ok!"

Silence filled the car before Dean spoke again. "Sammy…I…I didn't know," Dean said quietly, his finger tapping a nervous rhythm on the steering wheel.

"Dean, I…" But Sam didn't know what to say, instead pressing the side of his face against the seat.

"Look, when we beat these shapeshifters…I promise we'll talk about what I was doing, ok?" Sam nodded, but was unable to add anything as he realized they had pulled up in front of Becky's house. "Thought you might want to come here first."

Sam got out of the car and rang the doorbell, Dean right behind him. Becky opened the door and instantly flung her arms around Sam, hugging him tightly. "Sam, I was so worried!" Becky exclaimed, pulling back to take a good look at Sam. "Was it a shapeshifter?"

"Yeah," Sam with a laugh, hugging her back. "I have to say, it's great to hear someone outside the family use that line." Becky smiled, then stepped over to hug Dean.

"Are you ok, Dean?" Becky asked kindly.

"Getting there," Dean responded with a small smile as he and Sam followed Becky into the home she was still staying in. Becky sat down with them, leaning forward in her chair.

"Have you talked to anyone else from Stanford, Sam?" Becky asked. "Everyone's been going crazy since seeing the news."

"No," Sam replied, staring down at his hands. "I don't know what to say to them."

"Just tell them what you told me," Becky said gently, putting her hand on top of Sam's. Sam laughed bitterly.

"You may have taken it well, but you didn't at first, and I have no idea what they'll think," Sam said, taking a deep breath and releasing a long, drawn out sigh.

"Well, let's go find out then," Becky suggested, standing up and pulling Sam and Dean with her. Shooting Sam a look, Dean followed Becky out the door. With another sign, Sam followed as well.

It was dark by the time they pulled up to another house. Sam hesitated a second before getting out. Before he could even step out the door, a man and a woman came hurrying out of the house. Sam stepped out to two enormous hugs, a smile crossing his tired features as he hugged them back.

"Sam!" the woman exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek. "We were so worried. What happened?"

"Um…" Sam stalled, looking at Dean for support. Dean quickly stuck his hand out.

"Hi, I'm-" Dean began, but the man interrupted.

"You must be Dean," the man said, shaking Dean's hand. "I'm Alex. We've heard so much about you."

"You have?" Dean asked, turning his head slightly to stare at his brother. Sam coughed into his fist, then looked up at the sky, avoiding Dean's eyes. "Yeah, I'm Dean. It's nice to meet you Alex. And you are?" Dean turned a flirtatious gaze on the woman.

"Dean, this is Grace," Sam said. Dean shook her hand far longer than he had shaken Alex's. "Alex's girlfriend." Dean lingered a minute before letting go of Grace's hand.

"So what did happen, Sam?" Alex asked. "Was it just someone who looked like you, like you said happened with Dean?"

"Like you said…?" Dean asked, again turning to stare at Sam, whose mind was obviously racing.

"Would you believe that?" Sam said to Alex hopefully, trying to make it out as a joke. Suddenly screams came from upstairs. Sam acted on instinct, quickly reaching into the trunk of the Impala and extracting two shotguns, one of which he threw to Dean. Ignoring the stares of his friends, Sam followed Dean into the house, and up to the top floor, where the screams were coming from.

The screams seemed to be coming from two different directions, one from the left side of the floor, the other from the right. Sam went left, and as he entered the first room, the lights all went out.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam yelled, trying to locate his brother in the absolute darkness. Sam heard heavy breathing from all around him, and as he swung the shotgun towards a corner, the gun was slammed out of his hands. Drawing a knife, Sam spun in circles, praying for his night vision to kick in.

Sam's shoulder was suddenly grabbed and he spun around, shoving the knife into the soft flesh of the intruder. At that exact moment, light came in from the small window, illuminating Dean, Sam's knife stuck through his stomach.