AN: Sorry for such a long delay, life has been really hectic, but I'm back working on this story, so I'll probably have updates every week to two weeks!
Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own Supernatural, or John, Dean, or Sam. I wish I did though =) Please review! They motivate me to write and make this story possible!
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A low groan left Dean's mouth as he felt a numbing sensation along his jaw where John had nailed him with the pistol. The more he started to come to, the more his thoughts drifted to what was going on. He started to recall what had happened and when he had tried to move, he couldn't, quickly registering that he was bound, both wrists and ankles. He looked up when he heard movement and… Humming? Yeah he heard a humming noise emanating from his 'father'. He furrowed his brow in confusion as he watched John sitting boredly in the armchair, sharpening one of his hunting knives. Shifting his eyes to the bed, he saw his little brother stripped of his shirt, tied to the bed, each limb to a corner. He instinctively went to move towards Sam but felt himself fall over onto his side, his head landing against the hard floor causing him to utter a profanity.
"Shit!" He hissed under his breath as he tried to move his way back to sitting up. He watched as John slid the knife, shaving a bit of his arm hair to see if the blade was sharp enough. He smiled in satisfaction, though it sent a chill up Dean's spine. It was no ordinary smile. He knew something was about to ensue involving himself or his brother with that knife, and he'd be damned if it was his brother.
John shut the knife sharpening kit, setting it down on the coffee table as he curled his fingers around the hilt of the knife, slowly stalking up to Dean with such lithe, that of a predator. Dean noticed quickly, another indicator of an imposter. John was anything but lithe. Dean narrowed his eyes as John finally stood just a few feet away from him, kicking him in the gut, causing a grunt to escape Dean's lips. He then squatted down to Dean's level and sat him upright.
"Son, didn't I tell you to watch out for Sam?" He growled out, clearly playing the part of an angry John.
"Don't call me son. I'm not your son." Dean hissed angrily, despising the twisted son of a bitch behind this all.
"Oh come Dean, you are my son and so is Sammy over there. Sweet little Sammy…" He crooned as he smirked devilishly to Dean before looking over to Sam. "I like playing games, and seeing as you're just too much fun to toy with I think Sam will be my first toy. I may not know you, but I have John's memories and boy, I can have a whole lot of fun with the two of you!" He said as a deep chuckle arose from his throat as he laughed freely.
"You touch Sam and it'll be the last mistake you ever make you son of a bitch!" Dean warned him, his voice venomous, and the angry glare in his eyes. He wanted to break free and rescue Sam, to get to him before this imposter had the chance, but seeing as how he had no way of getting out, he knew he had no way to follow through on his words, that they were just meaningless for now.
"Dean, Dean, Dean… You are really in no place to tell me what to do, boy! And this tone! Certainly I raised you better then that! I'm just going to have to punish you, to teach you who's running this show, aren't I?" He questioned him rhetorically as he got up and walked up to the bed that Sam was tied to. He walked around and sat down on the edge of the bed, knife in hand and slowly drug the knife along Sam's forearm drawing blood. He grinned as he looked to Sam who awoke startled. His grin grew even wider when he heard Sam hiss in pain and Dean yelling out for him to stop.
Sam looked to John, confused, but then also remembering what had happened he assumed hours before. He glanced over to see Dean tied up, halfway across the room. He looked back to John, fighting against the ropes, though it was futile.
"What are you?" Sam questioned as he lay back against the bed, giving in for now.
"It's me, son, Dad." He said in all seriousness as he drug the knife an inch below Sam's elbow harsher, drawing more blood then the cut before.
"Sam!" Dean yelled out as he struggled against the ropes as pointless as it was. His eyes wandered around the room, searching for something, anything really to get them out of this mess, but he found nothing. John turned to look to Dean, laughing.
"Dean, son, you might as well just sit back and enjoy the show, neither of you are going anywhere." He told him with the utmost confidence. He received glares from both the Winchester boys then.
"You're not Dad!" Sam shouted and grunted in pain when John turned and swiped the knife along Sam's bicep.
"No, maybe not, but I have all of his memories up here, all of his feelings, and let me tell you Sam, John is very disappointed in you. He knows." John whispered to him, a sly smirk on his lips. Sam narrowed his eyes for a moment as he held John's gaze before looking away.
"Sam? Sam, what's he saying?" Dean called out in a panic, not wanting the monster to damage his brother in any way, shape, or form.
Sam didn't answer him though. Instead he looked away from the shape shifter, believing what he had said. Sam knew John wouldn't approve of him going to Stanford. He would see it as betraying himself and Dean, leaving them behind for his own selfish wants and needs. He hadn't told his brother yet though. He hadn't known how. He couldn't just blurt it out, Dean deserved better than that. He deserved a better brother who wouldn't leave him behind for his own selfish reasons. He started to withdraw himself farther into his mind where it was safe as John continued to cut on his body. He was only vaguely aware of Dean's pleading and the gasps and grunts that escaped his lips every time he felt the knife against his flesh.
"You know Sam, Dean was always John's favorite. Dean did everything he was told. He never fought back. You though, you always butted heads with him. You always had to know every little detail. Always was stickler for specifics. But you know why he was always angry with you Sammy boy?" He questioned him as he cut along Sam's shoulder.
"It's Sam." He managed to grunt as he looked to John, coming out of the recesses of his mind for a moment. He despised this shapeshifter the most because of the meat suit that he had stolen.
John managed an amused laugh. "He blamed you. He blamed you for Mary's death; resented you. But could you blame him? Before you, he had a wonderful life! A wife and a kid, a little boy whom he adored. And then you came along and screwed it all up, Sam." He crooned, not caring that he spoke loud enough for Dean to hear.
"He's lying Sam!" Dean yelled out as he flailed against the ropes, trying his damndest to get out of this predicament to save his brother, who he knew would believe the damn monster.
But Sam didn't say anything. Instead he seemed to sink back into his bed, trying to hide away in his mind from John. He was helpless but to be subject to the shapeshifter's torment, both physical and verbal. He felt so vulnerable. He cried out in pain when John plunged the knife into side whimpering when he twisted it slightly.
"Sam! You son of a bitch, let him go!" Dean yelled out to John as he continued to struggle. He moved and fell on to his side, seeing his own hunting knife beneath his bed. He figured it must have fallen while he was asleep. He inched closer to it but froze when he felt John place his foot on his side, stopping him.
"No so fast Dean, you won't ruin my fun, but don't worry, you'll be up soon, boy." He told him matter of factly and punched Dean hard in the chin, knocking him out and leaving him there. He picked up the other knife and walked back over to Sam, resuming his position beside him. He hummed as he cut along Sam, grinning widely as he only got whimpers from the youngest Winchester as he continued with the torture.
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AN: Please remember to review, tell me what you think!
