Here's the next chapter, thanks so much to all who have reviewed!

"Stop it!" Sam screamed, unable to take it anymore. "Stop it, please, please stop, please…oh God just stop! Just stop…" he begged, an uncontrollable torrent of tears pouring continually down his face and landing in little splashes on the floor. "Please…" he clutched his arms closer to him and braced himself for what would come next.

Silence—it never came.

Sam waited a few seconds and then took in a deep, gasping breath. "Dean…" he sobbed, the fact that his brother really was dead hitting him full force. "Oh God, Dean, I'm so sorry…"

"He's dead." A voice said right next to him, "He can't hear you."

Sam's eyes snapped open and he looked wildly around for the person who had spoken. Within the next five seconds he realized two things: one, he was all alone, and two, he wasn't in the hospital anymore.

Sam quickly jumped to his feet, staring around in confusion as leaves crunched under his feet and birds chirped above him. The strong scent of pine filled his nostrils as tall trees towered over him as the sun shone down on him from a bright blue sky.

"Okay…" Sam said, staring around hopelessly as a bitter laugh escaped his throat. "Wow. I'm in a forest. This just gets better and better..."

"Hi Sam."

Sam spun around and took a quick intake of breath. "Mom?" He breathed.

Mary smiled softly, her eyes gazing comfortingly into his. "Hey baby…it's okay."

"Mom…you're—you're really here? How? What's going on?" Sam pleaded. "Please, please tell me what's going on. I-I think I'm going crazy, I can't tell what's real and what's not, and—I—I—"

"Ssssshhh." She said gently, putting a finger to his lips to silence him. She ran a hand soothingly through his messy hair and smiled. "Everything will be fine."

"No, I don't think so." Sam interjected, pulling back. "I honestly think I'm going insane, and I don't know how much more I can take! Everything's gone wrong, and Dean—Dean—"

"Sweetheart—"

"Dean's dead, Mom! He's dead, and I—" he paused, unable to continue, staring helplessly at Mary. "I don't know what to do."

Mary stared at him and nodded firmly. "Well you don't to worry anymore honey. I know what to do."

Sam let out a huge sigh of relief. "Really?"

"Yes. I know exactly what's going on and how to stop it." She continued confidently.

Sam nodded, "Then tell me, Mom. Please. So I can end it."

Mary smiled and cocked her head to one side, studying his face. "Ohh Sam…you make this almost too easy, baby…"

Sam's brow wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

She shook her head and looked away. Instantly the world darkened and spun around him—and then refocused as the dark interior of a hotel room.

"…so anyway, I was thinking that we should go scope the place out now, see if we can find anything out of the ordinary before we charge in tonight guns blazing and all."

Sam's eyes widened and he spun around with a gasp. His brother was sitting on the edge of his bed eating a powdered doughnut, completely alive, flipping absentmindedly through the channels on a tv as he waited for Sam's response.

For a second Sam's mind completely shut down as he stared. Stared at his brother, stared at his every movement, each rise and fall of his chest, the way he seemed to inhale rather than chew his food,

the ghost of a cocky smile present on his face. All things completely, totally Dean—all completely, totally normal. And for one golden moment it was as though the nightmare he had lived for the past week had never happened. He and his brother were on a normal hunt, looking for vampires…or maybe angry spirits. In a moment they would walk out the door together and get in the Impala, and Dean would crank up the volume on a Metallica tape so high thathis ears would bleed. And then—

"Sam?" Dean prompted, jerking Sam out of his thoughts. "Did you hear me?"

Torn back into reality, Sam looked up and saw that Dean had turned off the tv and was staring worriedly back at him. And in that moment, Sam knew that he was fooling himself. That wasn't Dean—it was just another mind game. "You're dead." He whispered, his voice barely audible.

"What did you say?" Dean asked, confused.

Sam shook his head, tore his eyes away from his brother and ran over to the door. He jerked it open and sunlight poured into the room, allowing him to see the Impala parked in the lot outside—perfectly normal. He slammed the door shut again and spun around, striding quickly to the bathroom where he looked behind the door, tugged open the shower curtain—nothing.

He strode back into the main room and began looking under the beds and opening closets.

Dean sat there on the bed looking completely bewildered. "Uh…Sam? What are you doing?"

Sam's gaze flickered over to his brother for a second before he went back to rifling through the closet. "Look just shut-up, okay?" he snapped angrily, "I know this isn't real! I know you're not really Dean, I know I'm not really in this hotel room, and I'm not falling for this again!"

Dean blinked. "What"

Sam ignored him, and began scanning the room again for something he might have missed. "There's got to be something here!"

"Sam, calm down man. You're scaring me." Dean said, rising to his feet. "Tell me what's wrong, Sammy."

"No!" Sam yelled, taking a step back, "Don't move! Don't you dare move! You stay there, do you hear me?"

"Sammy?" Dean said, sounding hurt, confused, and concerned all at once.

"You sound just like him." Sam muttered bitterly. "Congratulations on that."

"Just like who? Sam, what—"

"Who are you?" Sam yelled at him angrily, pulling out his gun. "I'm sick of your games! I'm sick of you manipulating my memories and emotions! Just show yourself, damn it! Stop playing around—if you're gonna kill me just do it already!"

"Sam, what the hell?"

"Shut-up!" Sam shrieked, glaring at him. "You're not my brother…you're not Dean! Dean's dead! Dean's dead and I am sick and tired of being played around with!"

Dean just stared back at him, his mouth hanging open in shock. "Sammy—"

Enraged, Sam let out an exasperated yell and then threw his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine! You want to keep up this charade—go ahead! I'm leaving!" At that, Sam strode over to the door and pulled it open again to leave—

And walked straight into her.

"I'm scared, Sam…I'm really scared."

Sam blinked. He was back in the toy isle in the mall. She was there in front of him, her beautiful blond hair trailing down her back, her green eyes gazing into his.

Leandra.

And Sam laughed, laughed because he didn't know what else to do or how much of this he could take, and his laughter sounded hollow and sad in his ears.

Leandra's eyes narrowed and she put her hands on her hips angrily. "What's so funny?" she demanded.

"This is ridiculous." He said, running a hand through his hair.

"What's ridiculous?"

He opened his mouth to speak. God, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her everything. But he knew that it wasn't really her, so he sighed instead and shook his head, "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Good. We need to get out of here, Sam. Those monsters could come back any second—"

Something snapped deep inside him at her words, and another laugh escaped his throat before he could stop it, "I can't believe this—you're still playing along! You honestly still expect me to believe it's really you!" Sam interrupted angrily, his brown eyes flashing, "Let me guess…we're in severe peril, aren't we? Oh God, we'd be in some real trouble, wouldn't we, with all those monsters out there—except that none of this is real."

Leandra's eyebrows shot up. "This isn't the time to have an identity crisis, Sam—"

"Oh, I think I'm way past that." He said simply, walking past her toward the entrance to the store. "Good luck with the monsters!"

"No!" She Leandra said quickly, "Don't go out there, that's where they are!"

"Good, maybe they'll kill me!" Sam shouted back, ducking under the metal grate—

—and appeared in a cemetery. "Great…just great." He muttered sarcastically. "Who's here now? Dad? Bobby? Who's here, come on out and play!"

"I love you Sam."

His heart stopped. Sam gritted his teeth at the sound of the voice. He turned around slowly, fearfully. "Jess."

"I love you." She repeated sweetly.

He stared at her, unable to look away. It was all fake—she was fake. He knew that, but couldn't force himself to walk away. "You're not real."

"I missed you, Sam." She said gently, her eyes shining with happiness.

Sam felt a tear slide slowly down his cheek, and he angrily brushed it away. "You're not Jess."

She bit her lip, suddenly sad, "Don't you love me?"

His heart broke. "I—I—of course I—I always—I'll always love her. But you're not her. You're not." He said firmly, trying to clear his head. "You're not her…"

She smiled again, but this time the smile was different, and it looked out of place on her face, "But I could be…" She whispered, gently slipping her arms around him. "If you want me to be."

Sam quickly shrugged off her embrace and stepped back. "Stay away from me."

She nodded. "So you don't want me to be Jess?"

Sam stared at her, at a loss for words.

"Okay then." She said, and instantly transformed into the shape of his mother. "Everything will be alright, sweetheart, you'll see."

Sam let out a gasp of shock and stepped backwards, his head spinning. "What—how—"

She changed again, and Dean looked up at him with those deep hazel eyes. "Sammy? What's the matter?"

"Stay away from me—" Sam choked out, "Whatever the hell you are, stay away." He turned and ran, dodging tombstones in the dark.

Someone grabbed onto his arm and held him back, causing him to fall to the ground with a jolt. He twisted his head and saw Leandra standing above him, a sad look on her face. "I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't mean for this to go so badly."

"Get off of me!" Sam shouted, pulling free of her grip. He ran a few more feet and then froze, staring at what was ahead of him in the dark.

All the monsters he had fought in the parallel universe were standing in a line a few yards away, watching him hungrily.

"Oh…you've got to be kidding me…" he moaned.

"Don't worry, they won't hurt you." Leandra's voice said behind him. "I control them."

Sam shut his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "Oh great…of course you do." He paused, studying her. "So it's been you all along, Leandra? Are you really the one behind this, or is this just another one of your schemes to mess with my head?"

"I didn't want to hurt you, Sam."

"Well, that's such a relief." Sam said bitterly, turning towards her and crossing his arms across his chest. "What did you want to do, then?"

She sighed, and looked down. "You're mad at me…"

"You could say that." Sam said harshly, trying to think of a way to escape.

Leandra pushed her long blond hair out of her eyes and studied him sadly. "All I ever wanted was for you to like me...that's why I've been helping you."

Sam gaped at her in disbelief. "Helping me? Helping me? You threw me into a freaky alternate reality—"

"I had to!" She burst in. "You don't understand! I had to bring you here because I'm stuck here, I can't leave! It was the only way I could talk to you!"

Sam shook his head, "So what, your idea of a date was running away from mutant wolves? Getting torn apart? Falling down elevator shafts?"

"No! I gave you someone to talk to! I let you see your mother again! I showed you that she was pregnant when she died because you had a right to know—"

"You killed my brother!" Sam shouted.

"No." she whispered firmly, staring at him. "I didn't kill him…he's still alive."

Sam's mouth dropped open. "What! Where is he?" he demanded.

Leandra frowned, and she put her hands on her hips. "I'm not telling."

Sam gritted his teeth and gripped her shoulders hard. "Tell me."

"No."

"Damn it! Tell me where he is, Leandra!"

"No! I won't!"

"Why the hell not!"

"He doesn't deserve to have you as a brother, Sam." She hissed. "You are an amazing person—you try your hardest every day to save everyone you can from evil and make a difference. All Dean does is drink, sleep with random women, and then tell you that you aren't good enough when something bad happens."

Sam's eyes narrowed angrily and he tightened his grip on her. "That's a lie!"

"Is it?" she demanded, "How many times has he kicked you when you were already down? How many times has he made you feel worthless? How many times has he completely ignored you because he couldn't handle something? You're always the one doing research to separate evil from the good, but at the end of the day all your brother wants to do is find something to kill."

Sam was squeezing her shoulders so hard that his hands were white and shaking. "You're wrong."

"You can deny it all you want, but I'm right. Your brother is a cold blooded killer, Sam. And you know what else? He's a hypocrite. He's all kill first and think later with everything—everything except you." She paused, and cocked her head to the side. "When were you planning on telling him that you have demon blood?"

Sam froze and then shook his head, "That's none of your damn business."

"Why didn't you tell him?" she questioned, "Was it to protect him? Or were you were scared of what he would do when he found out?"

"What are you talking about?" Sam said, glaring at her, "That's not it at all."

"Then what is it? Tell me, I'd love to know."

"Dean would never hurt me." Sam protested. "Never."

"Then why didn't you tell him the truth? Why are you hiding it from him?"

Sam opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out, so he shut it again.

Leandra smiled grimly. "Thought so."

Sam's eyes snapped back to hers. "No! That's not—I—that's not what I meant! I didn't tell him because I wanted to protect him!"

"You don't have to lie to me, Sam." She said soothingly. "It's okay."

"I'm not lying! I—please—" he paused, trying to collect his thoughts, and dropped his hands to his sides. "Please. Just let me see him."

She shrugged. "Fine—but don't say I didn't warn you."

Sam's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll see." She said simply. "Have fun."

She snapped her fingers, and the world spun again and rearranged itself into another hotel room. Sam looked around cautiously but didn't see anyone—Dean wasn't there.

"Hello?" he called out softly. "Is anyone here?"

He walked cautiously across the room, looking around. The bathroom door was open—and empty. No one was there…which left the closet.

The closet door was closed. Sam walked up to it slowly, cautiously, and then in one swift movement reached for the doorknob and pulled it open.

The only reason he survived was because of his quick reflexes.

He saw the knife coming towards him out of the corner of his eye and dropped to the ground, allowing it to miss him by inches. Sam quickly rolled to the side and then jumped to his feet, looking for his attacker.

A man was standing next to him, his arm holding the knife up again, ready to attack.

"Dean?" Sam whispered.

Dean just glared at him. His eyes were red, bloodshot, and he looked like he hadn't slept for days. "Back for more?" he growled. "When are you going to just give it up?"

Sam's eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

Dean laughed and rolled his eyes. "You seriously expect me to fall for that innocent act again? How idiotic do you think I am?"

"What do you mean 'again'?" Sam questioned, trying to figure out what was going on, "Dean, this is the first time I've been here. I…I thought you were dead."

"Liar!" Dean yelled, and lunged forward again.

Sam dodged out of the way of the blade and then grabbed onto his brother's arm. "Dean—I'm telling the truth! You have to believe me!"

"Why should I believe you? You're not Sam!" Dean broke free of his hold and then kicked Sam hard in the stomach. Sam cried out as he fell back against the wall, but then instantly moved out of the way again as Dean lunged again, missing him by inches.

"Dean—I don't know what you're talking about!" Sam shouted helplessly.

"Just drop the act!" Dean snarled, "You're wasting your time!"

Sam jumped out of the knife's path and then grabbed onto his brother's arm again, trying to wrestle the knife from him. "Dean—listen to me—"

Dean broke free and then stared at him angrily. "Why aren't you fighting back!" he demanded.

Sam's eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Why the hell would I want to fight you? I'm your brother, Dean!"

Dean's eyes narrowed. "This is another trick, isn't it?" he said simply, realization growing on his face. "You're going to wait 'till I let my guard down and then kill me, aren't you?"

Sam groaned. "No! Damn it Dean, you're not listening to me!"

Dean lunged at him again, but this time Sam was ready. He grabbed onto the handle of the knife with one hand and the blade with another and in one swift motion pulled it from his brother's grip.

Dean's eyes widened and he looked around helplessly for another weapon, his back pressed up against the wall.

"You honestly think that I'm going to kill you…" Sam said.

Dean laughed bitterly. "Yeah…I do."

"You're wrong. Listen, I know what's been going on. We're trapped in a freaky alternate reality with this girl that manipulates it as she wishes. She can make you see what she wants you to…and apparently she wanted you to see me trying to kill you for some reason….How many times has someone that looked like me tried to kill you?"

Dean laughed again. "Wow, that's one wacked out theory you've got there—"

"Just answer the question." Sam broke in.

Dean frowned at him. "I've lost count, okay? They walk in here with some sort of weapon and try to kill me, and…and…the only way to make them leave…is…"

Sam stared at him. "Is what?"

Dean looked up at him. "Is to get them first." He said softly.

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh God…" he said softly. He looked at the blade of the knife—it was crusted with dried blood. "Dean…"

"Now do you believe me, Sam?" Leandra said, appearing next to him.

Sam ignored her, and continued to study his brother. Dean stared back at him, unaware that Leandra had entered the room.

"So…" Dean said, "I know you're not Sam…and If you're gonna kill me…just get it over with."

"How do you know I'm not Sam?" he questioned.

Dean shrugged. "You're just like all the others…" he said simply. "Your eyes."

"…what?" Sam said, confused.

"Your eyes are wrong…" he said softly.

Sam shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about." He admitted. "What's wrong with my eyes?"

"Go look." Dean said. "But I know you're not him…I don't know why you insist on keeping this act going…"

Sam turned and walked to the bathroom. He flicked on the light and then looked in the mirror.

His blood ran cold.

Staring back at him out of the mirror were eyes as black as coal—demonic eyes. He blinked hard and then opened his eyes again—still there. "Nice illusion Leandra…" he muttered angrily, flipping off the light and walking back into the room. Dean hadn't moved, he was still standing in the same place by the wall, looking back sadly at him.

Sam walked back over to him, his head spinning. He didn't want to ask his brother the question, but he had to know."Okay, enough with the tough guy act…" he said softly, trying to hide his own fear,"Admit it, Dean—you didn't actually kill anyone that looked like me...did you?" He held his breath, waiting for the answer.

Dean paused for a moment and then laughed softly, bitterly. He looked down at the ground. "No…" he admitted, "I…I couldn't…even though I knew it wasn't Sam…I couldn't kill them. That's why I've been using the knife instead of my gun. I just stab them in the leg and then barricade myself in the closet. They scream at me for about an hour…and then they leave and the next one comes."

Sam sighed in relief, feelingslightlycomforted by his words. "Dean, look at me." He commanded, and when his brother reluctantly met his eyes he continued, "I'm the real Sam, okay? It's me. And I'm not evil, Leandra's just messing with your head by making my eyes look demonic."

Dean just stared at him. "I wish I could believe you…"

"Believe it." Sam said firmly. He grabbed the knife by the blade and handed the handle to Dean, "Here…take it."

Dean looked at it in disbelief. "What?"

"It's yours." Sam said simply. "Go ahead and do what you want...and if you want to kill me I won't try to stop you."

Dean's breath caught in his throat. Hestood motionless, holding the knife in his hands, looking from it to Sam and back again. Sam spread his arms wide, exposing his chest, and stared his brother straight in the eye. "Go ahead." He said. "Do it."

Thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! I tried to make this chapter a little longer since I don't get to update very often. Please Review!