[1x06; Skin]

WARNING: Minor sexual assault below. The thought expressed by Julia in this chapter are not shared by me. Please keep in mind that everyone's experience is different and valid. Pease be respectful.

They'd been on the road for hours by the time they finally stopped for gas mid-morning. The early morning hours, during which normal people usually slept, had been full of ACDC, six or seven tapes blasted over and over again until they blurred together—for Julia and Sam, anyway. Dean enjoyed his music thoroughly, remembering every lyric for every song on every tape.

It wasn't that Julia hated the music, but after listening to it on repeat for five hours, she was beginning to develop a migraine and she didn't have any of her prescription left over from when she filled it up while they were in Chicago during Christmas.

Julia had promised not to miss Christmas since she didn't get to come home for Thanksgiving, so she begged Dean and Sam to go home with her for the holiday. They reluctantly agreed, not used to having a Christmas celebration like Julia did, but they had a nice time with their family friends anyway.

Since the Petersen family was Baptist and the Alexander family was Catholic, the family compromised and went to a non-domination church. They went almost every Sunday and on the holidays and Christmas Eve was no exception. Dean and Sam weren't big believers in God or Jesus Christ but Julia's faith was really important to her, so she got them to come with the bribe of an extra present each—they both got a brand-new switchblade with their names engraved on the handle.

Julia loved visiting her family—especially watching her niece open her presents from Santa on Christmas morning and seeing her Aunt Maggie who was usually very busy when she came to town—but it wasn't the same without their dad. Luke hadn't come home for the holiday or his birthday and his children were disappointed and a little angry.

Christmas had been almost a month ago, so that was a testament to how many times she had migraines during the three and a half weeks. It was a chronic condition passed down on her mother's side and they were a real joy to deal with.

"All right," Dean turned off the engine. "I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch then head south and hit Bisbee by midnight."

Julia groaned in response, covering her eyes with her pillow, while Sam didn't respond at all.

"Sam wears women's underwear."

"I've been listening, I'm just busy," Sam said absentmindedly.

"Busy doing what?" Dean got out of the car and walked over to the gas pump.

"Reading emails."

"Emails from who?"

"From my friends at Stanford," Sam told him.

"You're kidding," Dean scoffed. "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

"Why not?"

"Well, what exactly do you tell them?" Dean wondered. "You know, about where you've been, what you've been doing?"

"I tell them I'm on a road trip with Julia and my big brother," Sam shrugged. "I tell them I needed some time off after Jess."

"So, you lie to them?"

"No, I just don't tell them everything," Sam disagreed.

"It's a lie by omission," Julia told them in the loudest voice she could muster—Dean could hardly hear it.

"Exactly," Dean pointed at her while smirking at Sam. "I mean, hey man, I get it. Telling the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Cut everybody out of my life?" Sam cocked his head; Dean shrugged. "You're serious?"

"Look, it sucks but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period."

Julia didn't know whether or not to be offended by Dean's words. Were they not friends or was she imaging a lifetime full of memories?

"What do you call Julia, Abby, Beth, and Levi?" Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother, defending her honor.

"They don't count," Dean dismissed as he got back into the car. "They're more family than friends."

"Aww, Bean."

"Shuddup."

Sam laughed and shook his head at his brother. "You're antisocial, you know that?"

"Yeah, whatever."

It was silent for a couple of seconds as Dean changed the tape before Sam gasped lowly. "God."

"What?"

"This email from my friend, Rebecca Warren," Sam stated. "J, did you get one?"

"Don't know."

"Is she hot?"

"We went to school with her and her brother, Zack," Sam explained to Dean, pretending he hadn't heard his question. "J, she's said that Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Becky said he didn't do it but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

Julia huffed and pulled the pillow off her head, sitting up and squinting at Sam. "Are you serious?"

"Dude, what kind of people are you guys hanging out with?" Dean asked him in disgust.

"Zack is literally one of the most pacifistic people I've ever known," Julia informed him. "One time he got punched in a bar because some dude thought he hit on his girlfriend—which he didn't, it was a huge misunderstanding—and he calmly walked away like he hadn't noticed."

"Pussy," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Dean!"

"Sorry."

"Either way, Zack's no killer," Sam decided.

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows about you," Dean commented.

"They're in St. Louis. We're going."

Dean scoffed in disbelief. "Look, I'm sorry about your buddy but this doesn't sound like our kind of problem."

"They're our friends," Sam insisted. "It is our problem."

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam!"

Sam gave him the give-me-what-I-want face, trying to get him to give in, and Julia joined him. She knew that by themselves, their puppy-eyed looks were good but together? She and Sam could rule the world. It was the hazel eyes and dimples that drew people in and gave them what they wanted. Manipulative? Yes. Satisfying? Also yes.

"God, fine!" Dean gave in, his eyes darting back and forth between them. He started up the car and his music started playing.

Sam gave him a grateful looked while Julia laid back down, pulling her pillow back over her face. The nausea that usually came with a migraine was now starting to settle in and it sure was a bitch.

"Dean?" she asked in a pitiful voice. "Can you please turn the music down? Please?"

Dean sighed heavily and turned the volume down. "The things I do for you, shortcake."

Julia hummed as he drove away from the gas station, falling asleep within minutes.

"Oh, my God!" Rebecca, one of the first people Julia and Sam met at Stanford, exclaimed as she opened the door of her house three days of travel later. "Sam, Jules!"

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam grinned.

Becky rolled her eyes. "You know what you can do with that little Becky shit," she gave him a quick hug and then pulled Julia in for one. "You look like shit, Jules."

"Thanks, Beck, that's what I love to hear," Julia said, groggy from lack of sleep. "Listened to old rock all day."

"Gross," Becky frowned, making Julia smile slightly and Dean frown.

"Yeah, I know. So, we got your emails about Zack."

"I didn't think you guys would come here."

Dean spoke up, slightly squishing his way in between Julia and Sam to shake Becky's hand. "Dean. I'm the older brother."

"Sam's older brother," Julia clarified.

Becky smiled at him politely, shaking his hand. "Hi."

"Hi."

"We're here to help," Sam informed Becky. "Whatever we can do."

Becky stepped to the side so they could enter the house. "Come in."

The house Becky stayed in while living in St. Louis was gorgeous. It actually reminded Julia of Beth and Taylor's house up in Chicago, but this place had a nicer foyer with a beautiful iron staircase.

"Nice place," Dean commented, looking around.

"It's my parents'," Becky told him modestly as she led them through a formal dining room and into the impressive kitchen. "I was just crashing here for winter break when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked.

"They live in Paris for half the year so they're on their way home now for the trial," she pressed her lips together and gave them an awkward smile. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

"Hey!" Dean pointed at her but Sam shook his head.

"No, thanks," he denied for the three of them. "So, tell us what happened."

"Well, Zack came home and he found Emily tied to a chair," Becky started, her eyes starting to water slightly. "And she was beaten up and bloody and she wasn't breathing. So, he called 9-1-1 and the police—they showed up and they arrested him."

Julia gave her a sympathetic smile and placed a comforting hand on her arm.

"The thing is," Becky continued. "the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police, they have a video from the security camera across the street and it shows Zack coming home at ten-thirty. Emily was killed just after that but I swear, he was here with me having a few beers until, at least, after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene?" Sam suggested. "Zack's house?"

"We could?" Julia and Dean asked in unison, looking over at him in shock.

That didn't make much sense to Julia; Becky knew how they were—the part of them that didn't hunt, anyway—and she knew that neither of them had the authority to check out a sealed crime scene.

"Why? What could you guys do?"

"Well, us, not much," Sam admitted before turning to Dean with a small smile. "But Dean's a cop."

Dean laughed in shock but with a firm look from Sam, which Becky didn't notice, he went along with it. "Detective, actually."

"Really?" Dean nodded at her. "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona," Dean looked pointedly at Julia and Sam—they were supposed to be in Bisbee, taking care of a spirit. "but I'm off-duty now."

Becky pressed her lips together. "You guys, it's so nice to offer but I just—I don't know…"

"Beck," Julia spoke up; she might as well join in with the stupid lie that Sam came up with. "Look, we know that Zack didn't do this. Now we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."

Becky glanced from her to Sam and Dean before giving in. "Okay," she smiled slightly. "I'll go get the keys."

Becky walked out of the kitchen and Julia made sure she heard her going up the stairs before glaring at Sam. "Are you crazy?" she hissed. "I hate lying, S. I hate it."

Dean gave her a weird look. "You lie all the damn time."

"That doesn't mean I like it! Especially lying to my friends!"

"You lied to my face that day at the motel."

"Well, that's—that's—"

"Look," Sam interrupted their bickering. "Zack and Becky need our help."

Dean rolled his eyes and turned back to his brother. "I just don't think this is our kind of problem."

"Two places at once?" Sam repeated Becky's words. "We've looked into less."

"I hate to admit it, because I don't like the plan, but Sam's right," Julia sighed.

For the second time that day, they unleashed their puppy-eyed looks.

Dean sighed and gave in; he was powerless against them. "Fine."

Fifteen minutes later, Dean was slicing through the sticker that sealed the crime scene.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Becky asked him anxiously, unlocking the door with her key.

"Yeah," Dean assured her. "I am an officer of the law."

"Besides, it's a little late now, Becky," Julia laughed lightly.

They ducked under the line of caution tape crossing the door and entered the house. It was a bloody mess, to put it lightly. Julia never really had a problem with blood, but even this was a little extreme.

Sam looked back at Becky, who had yet to come in. "Beck, you wanna wait outside?"

"No," Becky shook her head, her eyes wet, and ducked under the tape. "I want to help."

Julia made sure to stay by her side, showing her support. Becky was friends with Emily—Zack's girlfriend—too, so it was very hard for her to see the remnants of her splashed all over the walls and furniture.

"Now, tell us what the police said," Sam requested as Dean looked around at the evidence; Julia wished that he wouldn't touch anything so his fingerprints weren't on the stuff.

"Well, there was no sign of a break-in," Becky sniffed. "They say that Emily let her attacker in. The lawyers, they're already talking about a plea bargain."

Julia wrapped an arm around her as she looked around and let out a sob. She rubbed her back, making soothing noises. She had always been sensitive to the emotions around her, and most of the time—she was noticing it more and more with the cases they were going on—she felt she could tell a little what a person was feeling. Becky's heartbreak and hopelessness felt like her own and she didn't know if it was because they were friends, but she could feel herself starting to tear up, too. She was always a sympathetic crier, too—Levi, Dean, and Sam always made fun of her for it while they were growing up but Beth and her mom understood.

"Look, Beck, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did," Sam said softly, trying to get her back on track in the nicest way possible. "Any idea who?"

"Um," Becky gulped noisily as she recalled something. "there was something. About a week before, somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack's clothes. The police don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."

Julia and Sam exchanged a pointed look. In their opinion, that was something. If Zack was somehow in two places at one time and someone stole his clothes, there could very well be someone out there wearing his face. Julia didn't understand sometimes how people couldn't think about that but, then again, most people didn't grow up like her, Sam, and Dean.

Sam and Julia broke off away from Becky and took a look around for themselves as she went to talk to Dean. She was saying something about the dog that kept barking outside of the house and it made Julia smile. Dean absolutely hated dogs for no reason, so he wasn't the best person to talk about them with.

"Don't touch anything," Julia warned Sam as they walked around the kitchen. "Dean already got his prints everywhere."

"Because he's an idiot," Sam rolled his eyes with a smile and then paused, spotting something on the fridge. "Hey, look at this."

It was a picture that made Julia bite her lip. It was from a couple years ago; her, Jess, Becky, Zack, and Sam were huddled together, wearing party hats with drunken smiles on their faces. It had been Zack's twenty-first and they had such a good time getting wasted, eating food, and playing games. She had forgotten that they took it.

She looked at Sam worriedly, hoping that it didn't hurt him too much to see Jess. She missed her roommate and friend so much but it didn't even compare to how Sam was feeling, especially when he confessed the other week about how he felt guilty for her death so Bloody Mary would come after him.

"I don't think they'd mind if we took this," she whispered, carefully taking the photo from the magnet. The two of them and Jess were in the middle of the group pose, so it would be easy to clip off Becky and Zack.

Sam smiled sadly as she covertly slid the picture into her purse, making sure Becky didn't see anything.

"So," they both startled when Dean spoke, not having seen him walk over. "the neighbor's dog went psycho right around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed."

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam offered.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something."

"Maybe you should question him, D."

Dean sent her an annoyed look as Sam asked him, "So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No, probably not," Dean didn't want to come right out and admit that Sam and Julia were right, but they were right. "but we should take a look at the security tape just to make sure."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

"Are we copying each other now?"

Both of the brothers ignored Julia's sarcastic comment and walked over to Becky. "So, the tape. The security footage…you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."

Becky bit her lip. "I've already got it," she admitted. "I didn't want to say anything in front of the cop. I stole it from the lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

"Well, all right," Dean laughed in satisfaction.

Bright and early the next morning, Sam and Julia dragged Dean out of bed, filled him up with some doughnuts and coffee, and made him take them back to Zack's house. After reviewing the security tape at Becky's house late the previous night, they discovered that the Zack who went in the house had a flare over his eyes.

Now they had the confirmation that they needed to know it was their kind of problem. Because humans' eyes don't flare like that in the presence of bright lights or photos, they figured it was a kind of doppelganger or some other creature that could look like someone else.

"All right," Dean got out of the Impala, slammed his door shut, and took a sip of his black coffee. "So, what the hell are we doing here at five-thirty in the morning?"

"I realized something," Sam told Dean what he previously shared with Julia. "The videotape shows the killer going in but not coming out."

"So, he came out the back door?"

Sam nodded and walked over to the dumpsters behind Zack's house. "Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue—"

"Cause they think the killer never left and they caught your friend, Zack, inside," Dean finished grumpily. "I still don't know what we're going out here at five-thirty in the morning."

"Because there's nothing like fresh midwestern winter air in the morning," Julia winked at him.

Dean grumbled; it was too early in the morning to deal with her nonsense. He kind of wished that she was quiet like the day before when she had a migraine but that was kind of intense. He didn't want her in pain or anything.

Sam left the dumpsters and walked over to the nearest pole, squinting at it. There was a large section of blood just underneath an old flyer. Sam looked at Dean smugly. "Blood. Somebody came this way."

"Yeah, but the trail ends," Dean pointed out, looking at the poles that proceeded it. "I don't see anything over here."

Sirens blasted as an ambulance drove by them, heading to an apartment building a block or so down. Dean grunted in annoyance as Julia started toward the commotion in a hurry, Sam following after her.

There were a bunch of people surrounding the building, along with three cop cars and the ambulance they had just seen. By the time they got there, the police were leading a handcuffed man of Asian descent out of the building to one of the cruisers.

"What happened?" Dean asked a jogger that had stopped to watch what was going on.

"He tried to kill his wife," the woman crossed her arms over her chest. "Tied her up and beat her."

Julia looked at her in surprise; that fit the way Zack supposedly killed Emily. "Really?"

The woman nodded. "I used to see him going to work in the morning," she shared. "He'd wave and say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy."

As the police cruiser with the suspect drove away, Sam told Dean and Julia that he was going back to look around the back of the building. Julia stayed with Dean and once everything was over and the ambulance had driven away, they asked one of the police officers what had happened.

They caught up with Sam soon after, Dean now one hundred percent convinced that this was actually their kind of problem.

"Hey," Dean called for his brother. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"

"Yeah."

"Definitely our kind of problem."

"What'd you guys find out?"

"Dean talked to a deputy who was on the scene first," Julia told him. "He heard the suspect's—I think his name was Alex—story. Apparently, the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"So, he was at two places at once," Sam stated.

Dean nodded. "Exactly," he confirmed. "then he sees himself in the house and the police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Could be the same thing doing it, too," Dean added.

"Shapeshifter?" Sam recalled. "Something that can make itself looked like anyone?"

Dean nodded as Julia listened carefully. "Every culture in the world has shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."

"So, like skinwalkers and werewolves?" Julia spoke up.

"Right," Dean confirmed. "So, we've got two attacked within blocks of each other. I'm guessing we've got a shapeshifter prowling the neighborhood."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Let me ask you this," he told his brother. "In the shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"

Dean pursed his lips. "Not that I know of."

"I picked up a trail here," Sam pointed to a bloody pole just like the one behind Zack's house. "Someone ran out of the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house."

"Yeah, and just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends," Sam hummed. "Whatever it is just disappeared."

"Well, there is another way to go," Dean pointed out, looking at the ground where they stood around a manhole. "Down."

"Oh, no," Julia moaned in disgust. "Not the sewer."

Dean bent down and picked up the iron manhole cover, scooting it to the side so that the three of them could climb down. Dean went first and Sam went last so he could cover it back up. The sewer was dark and smelly and Julia hated every single minute she was down there—mostly it was because she was wearing her white Keds today and stains seemed to last forever on those.

"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too," Sam observed as Dean and Julia looked around. "The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around."

"I think you might be right," Dean called from a few feet to the right. "Look at this."

Julia and Sam made their way over to him; Dean crouched down over a disgusting pile of goo and brought out his switchblade, dipping the tip into it. The nasty stuff that looked like mucus stretched as he lifted the blade, making Julia gag.

She'd take the blood at Zack's house over this any day.

"Oh," Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Is this from one of his victims?"

"You know, I just had a sick thought," Dean remarked. "When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds."

"Ew, gross."

"That is sick."

Dean wiped his blade off on his jeans—getting a look of disgust from Julia in the process—and put it away. They climbed back out of the manhole and made their way back to the Impala to get some weapons.

There was only one method of killing shapeshifters that was universal across the different species—a silver bullet to the heart. Having just picked up a case for each of their guns from the hunter side of Petersen Sports Co., they each loaded up their weapons.

They had a brief break when Becky called Sam to tell them she knew they lied about Dean being a police officer and accusing them of ruining Zack's case but they quickly got back on track. A few minutes after Dean's I-told-you-so's.

They made their way back into the sewer with flashlights and silver bullets, taking their time to carefully look every which way they walked. With Sam in the front and Julia in the middle, she still felt paranoid that the shifter would just pop out of no where and scare the shit out of her.

Once they were close to its lair, Julia was proven correct. The shapeshifter, still using the face of the Asian man, appeared behind Dean, hitting him in the head and forcefully pushing him into the sewer wall. Julia rushed toward him and helped him up; he was cradling his left shoulder and it looked like it was dislocated.

"Go get the son of a bitch!" Dean ordered her and Sam.

Sam shot at the shifter but it jumped away, running out of the sewer as fast as he could. The three of them ran after him but it took awhile before they had to admit that they couldn't find him. It was dark when they popped out of a manhole by a nearby park.

They stashed their guns so no one would see them—Dean groaned heavily as he put his on the inside of his jacket, evidently moving his shoulder too much—and looked around to see if they could see the Asian man.

None such luck.

"Let's split up," Sam suggested.

"All right," Dean agreed. "I'll meet you two around the other side."

Sam and Julia agreed before running in the opposite direction of Dean. They rounded the block, keeping an eye out, but they saw no familiar faces in the crowd. Julia thought it would be easy catching the shifter, since it was dark and the cars driving down the streets were using headlights, but it wasn't.

Having no luck finding the shifter, Julia and Sam waited for Dean at the other side of the building. Five minutes later, Dean caught up with them looking like he had just as much luck finding the creature as them.

"Anything?" Dean asked them.

"No," Julia shook her head. "He's gone."

"All right," Dean looked around. "let's get back to the car."

They crossed the street—Dean briefly getting separated by a rogue car—and made their way down the block and back to the Impala they left behind Zack's house.

"You think he found another way underground?" Julia asked quietly as she stepped up by her door.

"Yeah, probably," Dean nodded and turned to Sam. "You got the keys?"

"Hey," Sam hesitated to throw him the keys. "didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?"

"That was Austin," Dean answered. "It turned out not to be a shapeshifter. It was a thought-form—a psychic projection. Remember?"

"Oh, right. Here," Sam tossed the keys to him; Dean caught them with his left hand. Julia furrowed her eyebrows—she could have sworn his dislocated that shoulder.

"Dean, you okay?" she asked cautiously.

Dean grinned at her. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

Yeah, okay, this wasn't Dean. Dean had hardly ever—ever—called her sweetheart. He called her shortcake, Junior—because of her first and second initials—Jules, and Julia when he was being serious or was angry with her. Nothing—else besides the one time a couple weeks back that he called her baby.

She gave Sam a subtle look as Dean opened the trunk and lifted the flap to look at the weapons, laughing softly. Sam nodded at her and she pulled out her gun as he slowly walked around the front of the car to stand next to her.

"Don't move!" Sam yelled at him, cocking his gun and aiming it at the shapeshifter. Julia followed his lead, her eyes narrowing furiously while Dean held his hands up. "What have you done with him?"

"Guys, chill," the shapeshifter warned them, keeping up his façade. "It's me, all right?"

"No, I don't think so," Sam gritted through his teeth. "Where's my brother?"

"You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down."

"You caught those keys with your left," Julia pointed out. "Your shoulder was hurt."

"Yeah, it's better," the shifter looked at them like they were the crazy ones. "What do you want me to do, cry?"

"You're not my brother."

"Why don't pull the trigger then, huh?" he took a step toward Sam. "Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."

"Don't."

Faster than they expected, the shapeshifter whipped his hand over and swiped the gun out of Sam's hands. He was knocked out as Julia aimed her gun at the shifter and took a shot; the man predicted her movement and forcefully pushed her down onto the road, her head hitting the pavement harshly.

Julia was pretty sure they were in the sewer again, if the smell of crap was anything to go by. The room that she and Sam were being held in was a lot bigger than the tunnels they were walking through earlier and there were metal beams that she and Sam were tied tightly to with scratchy rope.

"Sam," she whispered, trying to wake her best friend. "Sam, wake up!"

It took a few seconds but eventually Sam startled awake. Unfortunately, it was around the same time the shifter walked into the room, a length of rope curled around his arm. He saw that she and Sam were awake before slowly walking over to them.

He stared down at Sam for a few seconds before pulling his arm back and whipping him in the face.

"Hey!" Julia shouted at him, furious.

"Shut up!" the shifter sneered at her; she had heard Dean say shut up to her a million and one times but it was never as venomous as his voice was just then. She knew it wasn't Dean but they had the same voice.

Julia quieted down but glowered at him.

Sam inhaled deeply, setting his own glare at the shifter. "Where is he?" he clenched his red jaw. "Where's Dean?"

"I wouldn't worry about him," the shifter set down the rope and turned back to face them. "I'd worry about you and your pretty little friend here."

"Where is he?"

"You don't really wanna know," he said to Sam knowingly, chuckling slightly as he moved away from them. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family…I thought I came from a bad background."

"What do you mean, learn?" Julia spoke up.

The shifter picked up a large knife and glanced at her, irritated. His face scrunched up in pain for a few seconds before relaxing. "He's sure got issues with you, Sam," he shook his head, walking over to stand in front of him. "You got to college; he had to stay home. I mean—I had to stay home…with Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own?"

Julia narrowed her eyes at him; he didn't exactly spill Dean's secret about wanting to go to college himself but he painted a pretty clear picture. Dean kept that secret for a reason—he never wanted Sam to feel bad about what Dean had missed out on to take care of him while growing up himself.

"But Dad needed me," the shifter continued. "Where the hell were you?"

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked slowly.

"I am your brother," Dean leaned over him. "See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak and sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me."

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked as the guy wearing his brother's face backed away with a smirk.

"You left," the shifter elaborated aggressively. "Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to and he ditched me too. No explanation, nothing—just left me with your sorry ass. But still," he walked over to Sam once more. "this life? It's not without its perks."

Sam narrowed his eyes as the shifter repeated what Dean had told him when he handed him the gun with silver bullets.

"I meet the nicest people," the shifter laughed mockingly. "Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance."

"Enough!" Julia spoke up, tired of the guy's monologuing. She really thought that was just a comic book super-villain thing but it turns out it was actually true.

"Aw, sweetheart, don't be jealous. He thinks you're pretty, too," the shifter clicked his tongue as he moved onto her, leaning over her with a threatening look. "You know, he hates listening to you talk. You go on and on and on."

Julia flinched, hoping that wasn't true. If the shifter was really downloaded Dean's thoughts like she assumed, it was true. Everything he had said had been true.

"Don't listen to him, Julia!" Sam told her, his voice furious.

"Ooh, hurts doesn't it?" the shifter gave her a mocking pout. "But it's not all bad…Dean, here, has a little idea how to get you to shut up…"

The shifter leaned down and forcefully pressed Dean's lips against hers, her head digging painfully into the metal beam behind her. Julia struggled against him, trying to free her arms of the tight rope surrounding her. The shifter harshly bit her bottom lip, drawing blood that she could actually taste, one of his hands stroking down the length of her neck and tightening around it.

Tears fell from her eyes as Sam shouted at him to stop. When the shifter pulled back with a smirk, Julia angrily spat at him. The smirk fell off his face and he wiped it from his chin before harshly backhanding her across the face.

Julia's vision went black and the last thing she heard was Sam's angry yells.

Sam squirmed against the beam he was tied to, grunting with effort as he tried to cut through the ropes with the sharp metal corner. It was difficult and taking a longer time than he was used to. Julia was still passed out, he had no idea where Dean was, and the shifter was on his way to Becky's house wearing Dean's face, so he was a little stressed out and a lot furious.

"Julia," Sam called, turning his head toward her as he continued to try to get out of his ropes. "Come on, J, wake up."

Someone coughed but it wasn't Julia; it came from behind them on the other side of the large room they were being held captive in.

"That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature," he heard Dean groan.

Sam chuckled in relief—one problem solved. "Yeah, it's me. He went to Becky's house looking like you."

"Well, he's not stupid," Dean somehow found humor in the situation. "He picked the handsome one. Where's Jules?"

"Next to me. He knocked her out."

"Fucking dick," Dean swore angrily; Sam heard a snap and then footsteps as Dean walked over to him. He quickly cut Sam's ropes and then went onto Julia's, frowning when he saw the injuries on her relaxed face. "She's pretty beat up."

"Yeah and here's the thing," Sam unwrapped the rest of the rope around him. "he didn't just look like you, he was you—or he was becoming you. He said some messed up things."

Dean gave him a curious look as he crouched down in front of Julia, his hand pressed gently against her swollen cheek. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know," Sam stood up, flexing his arms to get the blood flowing. "it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."

"You mean like a Vulcan mind-meld?"

"Yeah, something like that," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's pop culture reference. "I mean, maybe that's why he didn't kill us. Psychic connection and all."

Dean nodded and focused back on Julia's, stroking her cheek. "Jules, wake up," he said softly as Sam pulled the ropes from around her. "Julia…Julia, come on."

Julia's eyes fluttered as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. She could smell bergamot spice, musk, sweat, motor oil, and leather—it was pure Dean. Her eyes popped open and she flinched back against the beam when she saw Dean's green eyes staring at her.

"No, no, no," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

"It's just me, shortcake," he tried assuring her, confused at her scared reaction.

"Dean…"

"Get away from me…get away from me…get away from me…" she chanted, tears falling down her dirty cheeks and swollen cheeks.

"Dean, move," Sam pushed his brother away from his best friend, understanding her reaction. Dean stumbled out of the way and Sam picked Julia up before turning to him. "It's okay, J, it's him. It's Dean, not the shifter."

Red hazel eyes peeked out from behind Sam's shoulder, staring down at Dean. He nodded empathetically at her, still confused about her reaction, and her cries softened considerably.

"Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Becky's house already," Sam urged his brother before looking at Julia. "Can you walk?"

"Yeah."

He set her down and they started to try to find a way out of the shifter's lair. It turned out that it wasn't the sewer like Julia assumed but a basement of an abandoned building. Either way, it still smelt like crap.

Sam found a window at the top of one of the walls and went up to it, breaking the glass. He let Dean go first so that Julia wasn't alone with him—Sam trusted him wholeheartedly and he knew Julia did, too, but she was still probably traumatized—and then climbed out next. He hung through the window and grabbed Julia's arms, lifting her out of the building.

"Come on," he helped her up. "We gotta find a phone and call the police."

"Woah, woah, woah," Dean objected. "You're gonna put an APB out on me!"

Sam shrugged. "Sorry."

Dean shook his head and looked down the alleyway the building was located. He recognized the street as one he went down when looking for the shifter earlier that night. "Come on, this way."

He led Sam and Julia down the alleyway. The Impala wasn't in the same place where they originally parked but they did end up finding a payphone and some spare change. Sam called the police and they could soon hear sirens heading toward the part of the city Becky's house was located.

They found a electronics store down another street and stopped, waiting to see if there was going to be anything about the shifter on the news. Soon enough, a special report went live.

"An anonymous tip led the police to a home in the Central West End, where a SWAT team discovered a local woman bound and gagged," the reporter announced to the public. "Her attacker, a while male approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home."

A rough sketch of Dean that looked remarkably close to him was shown on screen, reporting that he was armed and dangerous.

"Shots were fired," the reporter continued. "and police are saying the subject fled the scene on foot."

"Man!" Dean complained, gesturing toward the televisions in the window. "that's not even a good picture."

Sam looked around cautiously, hoping that no one around had gotten a good look at Dean's face. "It's good enough. Come on," he gestured for him and Julia to follow him away from the open street. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"He didn't kill her," Julia spoke up hoarsely, flinching a little as Dean looked over at her.

Sam nodded at her. "We'll check with Becky in the morning, see if she's all right."

"All right," Dean agreed harshly as they turned down an empty alleyway. "but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the fucking shit out of him."

He wasn't an idiot, contrary to popular belief. He had figured out that the asshole had done some nonconsensual touching to Julia a few minutes after he saw her bloody lip and the frightened look she gave him. He hated that Julia thought of him like that, even if it wasn't really him, because he really cared about her and that was not the way he rolled. He didn't use sex to frighten people and he didn't do anything without thorough consent. He wasn't an animal and that kind of stuff was pure-fucking-evil.

"We have no weapons," Sam pointed out. "No silver bullets."

"Sam, the dick's wearing my face!" Dean exclaimed as he stopped walking; Julia paused a few feet away from him, shifting uncomfortably. It made his blood boil and made him want to kill the monster so much more. "It's a little personal and I wanna find him."

"Okay," Sam gave in. "Where do we look?"

"We could start with the sewers."

"We have no weapons," Sam repeated. "He stole our guns, we need more."

"What about the car?" Julia asked.

"I'm betting he drove over to Rebecca's house," Dean stated.

Sam nodded. "The news said he fled on foot, so I bet it's still parked there."

Dean clenched his fists, even more angry. "The thought of him driving my car—"

"All right, come on—"

"It's killing me," he finished.

"Let it go," Sam advised.

Before they could start walking out of the alleyway and to Becky's house, Julia spoke up. "I'm gonna go back to the motel," she stammered nervously; they paused to look at her with worried faces. "I'm…yeah, I'm gonna…I'm gonna head there and…take a shower…"

"Are you sure, Julia?" Sam asked quietly. "You can stay with me, if you want."

"No, no," she shook her head, almost shyly. "I wanna take a shower."

"Just be careful," Dean told her, hating the way she flinched at his voice. "we don't know where that fucker is."

"Okay," Julia nodded. "Okay…uh, see you later."

Sam and Dean watched her run out of the alley and out under the bright streetlights, hoping that the shifter was too busy to try to find her.

"You think she'll be okay?" Dean asked Sam as they started their trek to Becky's house.

Sam hesitated. "Victims of sexual assault—"

"Wait," Dean's eyes widened in horror and fear. "Did he…?"

"No, no," Sam told him quickly; Dean sighed in relief, glad that it hadn't gone that far. "He kissed her, bit her lip, and kind of choked her, I guess. Either way, it's sexual assault. And, with the fact that he was wearing your face—someone she trusts—and the things he said…"

"What'd he say?" Dean demanded.

"Nothing that bad," Sam shrugged. "but he kind of implied that you wanted to shut her up by kissing her?"

Dean stopped in his tracks. "What?" he scratched the back of his head; honestly, yes he did. But he would never do it without her express permission. "I mean, she's drop-dead gorgeous and all but—but she's young, you know? And—so…"

"Dean," Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's awkward rambling. "Just shut up. I know you're attracted to Julia. Let's just go."

Dean nodded and they started up once again.

Once Julia got back to their motel room, very thankful that it had been Sam to check them in and not Dean, she locked and bolted the door and jumped in the shower. She turned on the water as hot as she could handle it and scrubbed at her skin and face until every part of her was red from the heat and friction.

And then, she cried.

She felt so ashamed. For being used like that and for being so damn affected by what happened. She wasn't raped; she was lucky compared to numerous other women in the world who were assaulted much worse than her. Her experience was just a blimp on the world's radar and nothing to cry over.

The fact that it was done by a monster wearing Dean's face was almost the worst part. She trusted Dean with her life and she cared about him so much. He was her closest friend—besides Sam—and, yeah, she was really attracted to him, too. And yes, she knew it wasn't really him. She knew it wasn't the real Dean.

But it didn't matter much at the moment. His face assaulted her and she couldn't get it out of her damn head.

Finally, when she couldn't take the heat anymore, she got out of the shower. The bathroom was still humid but she was relieved that she didn't have to see her injured face in the mirror because of the steam. She quickly got dressed in her comfiest pajamas and went back to the main room.

Sam and Dean weren't back yet and she was worried about them but she couldn't force herself to go find them. Not tonight, at least. She curled up in her and Sam's bed and covered her whole body with the blanket despite the fact that she got hot quickly.

It took a long time, but she finally got to sleep.

When she woke up the next day, the boys still weren't back at the room. She went about her morning business and finally got to work on cleaning the injuries on her face, cursing the fact that she didn't do it the night before. She really hoped they wouldn't become infected, especially the cut on her lip.

Bits and pieces of the nightmares she had during the night flashed before her eyes as she got dressed. When she was done, she turned on the television and went to the comedy channel, hoping there was something funny on so she could distract herself.

Seinfeld was on and she wasn't the biggest fan but at least it did distract her enough. She was on the fourth episode when the door was unlocked and pulled open, stopped as the chain tightened.

"J, it's me," Sam called to her as she cautiously stood up and walked toward the door.

"How do I know you're not the shifter?"

Sam—if it really was him—looked behind him, presumably toward Dean. He grabbed something and showed her that it was a knife. "This is silver," he told her, pushing her arm through the crack. He pressed the blade down on his unblemished skin, a clean cut showing up. "See? It's me and Dean."

Julia slowly walked over to the door, relieved that it was actually Sam but not totally sure about Dean, and undid the chair. She opened the door further to allow them inside and was shocked to see that Sam had a few injuries, just a few small cuts and bruises.

"Are you okay?" she asked him worriedly, not noticing that Dean hovered near the threshold. "Were you hurt? Did you kill him?"

"I'm fine," Sam assured her with a tired smile. "Dean killed him."

Julia turned around to face Dean, giving him a hesitant look.

"I won't come in if you don't want me to," he said quietly, giving her a gentle smile. "I'll crash in the car."

"No," she shook her head. "it's fine."

Dean walked fully into the room and shut the door behind him. He gave his brother a pointed look as she turned back away from him to climb onto her bed and Sam nodded at him.

"I'm gonna take a shower," Sam informed them.

To her credit, Julia only stiffened a little.

This is Dean; he's not gonna hurt you. This is Dean; he's not gonna hurt you.

"Jules," Dean spoke up, watching her body language; she was clearly uncomfortable. "I'm really sorry he did that to you. I can't—I can't imagine what it's like and I'm sure it was horrible but I want you to know that I would never do that to you. Ever."

Julia's eyes stung as she turned her head toward him, squeezing her hands together nervously. Her toes fidgeted constantly and her legs bounced on the bed. Her nerves and her ADHD were not a good combination and she forgot to take her Adderall when she woke up.

She knew that Dean wouldn't do that to her, even before he told her that. He was Dean Jonah Winchester and yeah, he was a gruff manly-man who didn't take anyone's shit, but he wasn't a brute and he had a heart of pure gold.

"I know you wouldn't," she whispered. "I just…I—"

"You don't have to explain," Dean said quickly. He didn't want to make her feel bad; that wasn't his intention. "Just take the time you need, okay? I'll still be here and you'll still be my shortcake."

The corner of Julia's lips quirked and her dimple appeared. "Thanks, Bean."

They'd be okay. It would just take a little time.