Sam found himself standing in front of Dean. He could see the anger in his brothers eyes, the anger as Dean slowly raised a gun, his hand trembling. He could hear himself talking, begging his brother not to do it, and that it was really him. His pleas unheard, the sound of the gun going off and the unbearable pain shooting through his body was too much, and darkness engulfed him…
Sam awoke with a gasp, jolting upright in the hard bed. Beads of sweat ran down his face, his head burned with pain. Finally getting his breath back he buried his head in his hands.
'It was just a dream. It was just a dream,' he told himself repeatedly, trying to convince himself, but failing miserably. 'It won't happen, nothing will happen!' he looked up to the small amount of sky that was visible, getting a glimpse of stars that were beginning to come out. Night had arrived. Sam lay back on the bed, wondering where his killer headache had sprung from. His thoughts wandered back to how he'd fallen asleep so easily. He NEVER just fell asleep like that. Glancing at the food and empty glass beside him, he groaned. They'd put something in the water. But why? He groaned inwardly. They must know about his nightmares…that way they got him to sleep just to dream. This was getting way out of hand. He had to find a way out. Now.
It was cold. It was so, so cold that he couldn't stand it much longer. Dean sat against the wall, his knees drawn to his chest, teeth chattering, his entire body trembling. Why was it cold? Shouldn't confined spaces be hot? He had spent the last 10 hours thinking about his brother, and all the good times they had together. Not that there were that many. They needed a vacation.
'No chance for a vacation anymore,' Dean thought bitterly to himself. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door being unlocked. It opened, and the sudden light blinded him
'Get out!' a voice ordered. Dean slowly climbed out, gulping down the fresh air that he had lacked for so long. And there, standing in front of him, was Sam. But instead of the relieved, happy look Sam expected from his brother, he saw Dean's eyes cloud darker, saw his whole body tense.
'How dare you,' he said, in a dangerously low voice. 'First you make me kill him, now you pretend to be him.'
'Dean, it's me, its Sammy,' Sam said. 'You didn't kill me, they just made you think that.'
'He's lying Dean,' said Brooks. 'He's one of us, he's here to cause you hell, to relive all the pain.' She moved over to Sam, who flinched as she touched him. 'Get your revenge Dean.' Moving quickly she bound Sam's arms behind him, then slunk her way to Dean, and gave him a gun.
'One shot Dean,' she whispered in his ear. 'Just one…you aim wherever you like. He can't get away, he's defenseless…get your revenge.'
She left them alone, standing face to face, and it was at that moment that Sam saw the terrifying look in Dean's eyes that he had seen in his dream.
'Dean, come on dude, can't you tell it's me?' Sam begged. He slowly began to back up. 'Come on dude, untie me, and we'll escape from here, we'll leave forever. They'll never hurt you again.'
'How dare you…' hissed Dean, raising the gun. His hand was still trembling from the cold. If Dean hadn't been so shell-shocked from the thought that he'd killed his brother, who would have realized that once a person was dead, a Shapeshifter could not take their form. But he wasn't thinking logically; all he could see was a Shapeshifter, intruding his baby brother's body. Sam begged in despair for his brother, but being defenseless, knew he could not stop what would happen. He'd backed up against a wall, rubbing the rope on his wrists frantically, as Dean aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger. A fiery pain shot through Sam, and just like in his dream, darkness engulfed him…