AN: Here it is, the second and last chapter of Identity Crisis. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. My sister, on the other hand . . .

Warnings: Language. That's about it.

Summary: The Winchesters-okay, they're not actually the Winchesters, but whatever-are Leviathans. Who else can they turn to but Bobby?

"Don't panic."

"I'm not panicking."

"Just stay calm."

"I am calm, Dean."

"There's nothing to worry about here."

"Actually, there kind of is."

"There is absolutely no reason to panic."

"I told you, I'm not panicking."

"Nothing to worry about-"

"Oh, for Heaven's sake," Sam said, patience thinned to the point of snapping. "We're Leviathans, Dean. Get over it."

Dean frowned at him. "Why are you so calm about this, anyway?"

"There's no use in falling all over myself; it's not like it would fix anything. So we're Leviathans. That doesn't mean we can't still be ourselves. That doesn't mean we still can't help people."

Dean sighed. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. So what do we do?"

Sam shrugged. "We could try talking to Bobby."

"Yeah, and that'd go great, up until he killed us dead."

"No one knows what can kill us yet."

"Trust me, he'd find a way."

"But what else can do we do?"

"I dunno."

"You think Cas would come if we called?"

"Probably not." Dean scowled. "And I'm still mad at him for tearing down the wall." He paused. "Speaking of . . . do you remember Hell at all?"

"Yes," Sam said soberly. "It's an accomplishment that Sam's still mostly sane."

"Mostly?"

"Lucifer hallucinations. He tries to ignore them, but the whole thing wears him down."

"What about you? Are you okay?"

Sam smiled reassuringly. "I'm alright. Hell just doesn't affect me the way it would something else."

"Thank God for that."

Sam patted his shoulder.

Dean relaxed slightly under his touch, which made Sam say, "You know, I've noticed that we're a little more comfortable with touching than Sam and Dean are."

Dean wrinkled his nose. "Dude, that didn't come out right."

"How else was I supposed to say it?"

"Not like that."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Still not gonna call Cas," Dean added. "He may've let those souls go in the end, but he shouldn't have tried to swallow them all in the first place."

"I know. He was Sam's friend, too. Sam trusted him, and we both know that they don't trust easily. Castiel broke that trust the moment he made a deal with Crowley." Sam looked down, expression regretful. "They won't forgive him easily for that."

"They'll trust him again someday," Dean said mildly. "Cas is the type to repent something until it kills him. Pretty sure he's repenting over this."

"If we know him," Sam said, "and we pretty much do, then he's regretting it more than anything else."

"Of course he is. Still not calling him. Besides, we may look like Sam and Dean, but we're not. And he'd be able to tell the moment he saw us."

Sam suppressed a sigh. "Let's go ahead and try Bobby, then."

"You think we should call first?"

"Probably."

"You call him, I'm driving."

"You're abandoning me?"

"Not abandoning you. I'd never abandon you. I'm just . . . giving you the chance to talk with Bobby. I know how much you want that."

"Thank you ever so much," Sam said dryly. "Would that I could do the same for you."

"Alas, it is not to be. So call him already."

"Yes, Master."

"That's Sir Master to you."

They stopped at a convenience store along the way. What they didn't count on was the guy who tried to rob it.

Dean had been staring down at a packaged pie. "I don't think I want this."

"Really?" Sam seemed surprised. "Why not?"

"I don't know. It just seems . . ." he wrinkled his nose, ". . . not good."

Sam held up a banana. "Fruit?"

"Might as well. We should get some oranges, too."

Sam chuckled. "We really are not Sam and Dean, are we?"

Dean smiled crookedly, a more genuine version than the one the elder Winchester gave people. "I wouldn't want us to be completely alike, anyway. How boring would that be?"

"You're right," Sam replied, smiling faintly.

"Of course I am. You act as if it's not a frequent occurrence."

"My apologies. In no way did I intend to offend your delicate sensibilities."

"Don't patronize me."

"I would never."

"You're doing it now."

"You're mistaken."

Suddenly, a man nearby whipped his hand out of his jacket and aimed a gun at the cashier. "Alright, just give me the money!"

Dean pointed at the robber. "He's mistaken. I'm not."

"Do we have to do this now?" Sam asked, a long-suffering look on his face.

Dean subsided. "This isn't over."

"It's never over with you."

"Are you deaf?" the robber shouted. "Give me the money!"

"Dude, inside voice, man," Dean said irritably.

The guy swung the gun so that it was aimed at him. "Hand over your wallets," he hissed.

"No," Dean said bluntly.

The man seemed startled by his refusal. "You can't do that!"

"I just did."

"I'll shoot you!"

"Go ahead."

The guy shot him in the stomach.

Dean looked down. Then he glanced back up. "Dude, not cool."

The robber looked stunned. "But . . . but I shot you!"

"Yeah. I know."

"Why are you still standing?"

"I've got abs of steel."

"Dean," Sam hissed. "You're scaring him."

"I'm scaring him?" Dean looked offended. "Well, thank you so very much for your concern, Mr. Oh-You-Just-Got-Shot-I-Feel-For-You-Let's-Go-For-A-Run."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were so sensitive, Dean. I didn't take into account your subtle fragility."

"Stop it!" the robber yelled. "Why aren't you dying yet?!"

Dean gazed at him. "Because . . . I don't want to."

The man gaped at him. Then his eyes rolled up, and he fell over in a dead faint.

The brothers regarded him.

"Wimp," Dean said.

"You can't really blame him," Sam pointed out. "He was expecting you to collapse when he shot you, not start bickering with me."

"Who says 'bickering' anymore?"

"I think that would be me."

"You're so behind the times, Sam," Dean said condescendingly.

His brother sent him an exasperated look. "Let's just get the fruit, alright?"

They dropped their bananas, oranges, and apples onto the counter.

The cashier stared at them. Then she said, "Take it. It's on me. I'm quitting today. Also, you just got shot in the stomach and you're buying food. If that doesn't warrant free stuff, then I don't know what does."

Dean gave her a wide grin. "You've got a great future ahead of you, I can tell."

"I know," she replied. "My charm and witty repartee could get me anywhere."

He nodded appreciatively. "We could almost be related."

"With muscles like that, I'd settle for being a second cousin." She handed them their receipt. "Here you go. Have a nice day, and try not to get shot anymore." She waved as they walked away. "Don't call me, I'll call you. That means you won't ever see me again, unless we both have a stroke of amazing luck."

Dean waved back. "Hopefully, that stroke of good luck won't take too long."

A minute later, they were walking to their car.

"I still say you were patronizing me," Dean said, sliding into the drivers' seat.

Sam gave him a look. "Yes, I was. And I'm not afraid to do it again."

"What happened to you, Sam? You used to be so innocent."

"I was never innocent."

"We're Leviathan. We're not supposed to be innocent."

"Then why-you know what, forget it."

"Giving up already?" Dean shot at him as he started the car. "I didn't take you for a quitter."

Sam looked at him. "Dean, I tell you this with all brotherly love and affection. Shut. Up."

"That's not what I call love and affection," Dean tsked. "Try again."

Sam rolled his eyes. "You're a jerk, Dean."

"You're a bitch."

"I'm going to pepper-spray you."

"You have pepper-spray?"

"I just got it. Would you like to test it for me?"

"Ouch."

"I didn't think so."

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

Well, okay, no. But they did when Sam pepper-sprayed his brother. Dean's screams were heard for miles. Then they drove the rest of the way in silence.

It was wordlessly agreed upon that they never mention the subject ever again.

"What do you two idjits want this time?" Bobby asked as he opened the door, letting them walk in. He shut the door behind him and followed. He looked at Dean. "You got somethin' in your eye, boy?"

Dean tried to stop blinking rapidly long enough to glare at Sam. "Yes."

Bobby glanced between them. "Alright then. What'd you want t' talk to me about?"

"We've got a problem, Bobby," Dean said, squinting out of one eye as he sat down on a couch. Sam sat beside him, ignoring the vaguely cross-eyed look his brother gave him.

Bobby looked at him. "You doin' okay, Sam?"

"I'm fine, Bobby," he assured him. "No hallucinations or anything."

"So what's the problem?"

"You won't get mad, will you? I mean, of course you'll get mad, but try not to attack us, okay?" Sam said.

Bobby eyed them warily. "That depends on what the problem is."

"Well," Dean hedged, "it's kind of a big problem."

"How big?"

"Don't kill us."

"No promises."

"Don't maim us."

"Didn't you hear what I just said?"

"Don't throw us into the basement and torture us."

"That big?"

"It's that big."

"So what is it already?"

"We're Leviathans."

Bobby stared at them. "Are you insane?"

"Kinda. Just a bit." He paused. "Yeah. Yeah, we are. Sorry. But look." He pulled a knife from where it was hidden and gave himself a small cut. "Black blood. Please don't shoot us," he added.

Bobby stared at them some more. Then he pulled a gun from out of nowhere and shot them both.

It was the second time that day Dean was shot at. Boy, he was on a roll.

"Ow," he muttered. "Was it something I said?"

Sam nudged him with his elbow. Hard. "Stop it," he hissed.

"What? He shot you!"

"He shot you, too," Sam pointed out.

"Eh," Dean said dismissively.

"You don't care?"

" Of course I care."

"Really? Because it looks to me like you don't care."

"I don't care if it looks to you like I don't care."

"Well, I care that you don't seem to care that it looks to me like you don't care."

"I care."

"Do you? It really doesn't appear as if you care."

"If I cared every time you cared that I don't care, we'd never get anything done. So, really, I don't care."

"Fair enough," Sam conceded.

Bobby stared at them. Again.

Dean pointed at him. "I still don't like that you shot my brother."

Sam smiled slightly. "It's not like it'll kill us, Dean. Besides, he thinks we're monsters."

"We are," Dean countered.

"Yeah," Sam admitted. "But that doesn't mean we have to be monsters to ourselves."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Stop, you're getting all your feelings on me."

"And you aren't?"

"Me?" Dean snorted. "Yeah, right."

Sam held out his arms. "Give me a hug."

"Okay." He did, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around his brother.

"Dean," Sam mumbled after a moment, voice muffled by his brothers' shoulder, "let up. You're getting all your feelings on me."

Dean slapped him on the back and pulled away to then casually sling an arm around Sam's neck.

Sam gazed at him. "You really have no shame at all, don't you."

"That's me, Sammy," Dean said with a wink. "The real Dean Winchester may not like chick-flick moments, but then, I'm not him. I have absolutely no qualms in hugging you until you can't feel your arms anymore. Or until you can't breathe."

"I always knew you'd kill me someday. I just never thought it would be with affection."

Bobby, whom they'd forgotten about completely, let his gaze go from one man-er, creature-to the other. "What kinda Leviathans are you? You're s'posed to be predatory and menacing, not all mush and goo."

Dean turned to smile confidently at him. "You feelin' left out, Bobby? You want a hug, too?"

"Keep those octopus arms away from me," the old hunter ordered. "I'd have at least expected this from Levi-Sam over there, but you?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "He's like a huge, affectionate, needy teddy bear."

"Everyone needs a hug sometimes," Dean said.

"Not Dean Winchester," Bobby said, though his tone made it clear that the elder Winchester was the only one who believed that.

"Nah, he needs one, too, he just doesn't know it. Needs it more than most, actually. Same goes for Human-Sam."

Sam snorted. "You're right about that."

"They should really hug it out," Dean said.

"And stop lying to each other," Sam added.

"And listen more to one another."

"And be more attentive."

"And stop hiding things."

"And stop trying to bear all the weight themselves."

"And be more affectionate."

"And-"

"Alright, alright," Bobby said, exasperated. "Just try telling them that, why don't you."

"That's a pretty good idea, actually," Dean said pensively. "I think I will."

Sam nodded. "Me, too."

Bobby eyed them disbelievingly. "Well, I won't be there when ya do. Why're you here instead of tryin' to take over the world, anyway?"

"Being the Winchesters really changed us," Dean explained. "We see things differently now. We like humanity. Well, except when it starts wars."

"And when it kills senselessly."

"And when its greed gets the better of it."

"It's a lot like us monsters, really."

Dean nodded in agreement.

Bobby stared at them.

He wondered if maybe he hadn't been better off staying inside, where the door was locked and no virtuous Leviathans could lecture him on Winchester problems and the world's faults.

"All that alcohol and drugs can't be too good for you, either," Sam said disapprovingly.

Yep. Really shoulda stayed inside.

There ya go, folks. Hope you had fun with that. Feel free to take up the idea and write your own version. Just tell me, 'cause I wanna read your version, too.

Next up: Dean wakes up only to find that he and Sam have somehow traveled to an odd new dimension.

Weird Randomness!

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Dean and Sam Winchester stared at the two Leviathans standing in front of them. "You want us to what?"

"Hug it out," Levi-Dean replied.

"Go to couples' therapy," Levi-Sam suggested.

Dean ignored the last piece of advice. "Nuh-uh, no way am I participating in a friggin' chick-flick moment."

"But it's easy. See, you just go like this." Then normal-Dean watched, scandalized, as Levi-Dean threw his arms around Levi-Sam and crushed him into a tight embrace.

Sam, on the other hand, was too busy staring at Bobby to be appropriately scandalized. "What are you doing?"

"Filmin'," the older hunter replied, video camera aimed at the two cuddling Leviathan.

Sam sputtered. "Well, don't!"

"No can do, boy. This is gold. Pure, unadulterated gold."

"I'll say," Becky drooled.

Sam recoiled. "What the hell-"

Meanwhile, Dean was trying to yank Levi-Sam and Levi-Dean apart. It wasn't working.

"Stop-" He grunted, "-hugging!"

"Never stop, Sam!" Becky cried. "Never stop!"

Sam looked around wildly. "Somebody get her out of here!"

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