John Winchester: mid 40's

Dean Winchester: 26 years-old

Sam Winchester: 23 years-old

Jasmine Rhodes: 22 years-old.

Puzzle Piece:

OFF THE WAGON

Tensions have been running high lately; all of it due to the fact that Sam had joined them. It had been a month since he had and Dean couldn't take it any more, he had to get out this God damn small room. It's not like he couldn't stand to be around Sam, he loved his brother and always would. It was the fact that he was three hundred times worse then Dean had remembered. Granted, it had been four years since Dean had seen Sam and people can change with that amount of time - but being around Sam just made him to scream his head off.

Dean knew that if it was this bad for him, it had to be just as worst for Jaz. They had never ever gotten on well with each other, since the very start. The instant Dean and John had brought Jaz back with them to the motel. That had also been the very first time he had ever snapped at Sam. But when Sam was a kid, Dean could understand his frustrations: dad gone all the time, moving constantly, not having a mother, never getting to have any friends, seeing the thing that they've seen at his young age, Dean going along on the hunt's, being left alone in the motel rooms, all of that plus Dean and dad bring someone else into their family, taking even more attention away from Sam. But Sam was grown up now, so what the hell was his problem?

Yes, his girlfriend died only a month ago and Dean knew that it took a while to properly mourn a loved one, but Dean was very close to snapping. He didn't want to yell at his brother, it would probably make things worse between the three of them. Yes, it was most likely to cause unwanted tension; it was as taunt as a wire in here. He had to get, just out and he could breath. He felt like a jerk for leaving Jaz alone in here with Sam, but he was asleep so Dean didn't see the harm. Just out, out of this room and he would be fine.

The instant the door closed be hind Dean, Jaz was wide awake. And the instant the door closed behind Dean, Sam turned from his computer to Jaz, who had sat up and was rubbing sleepily at his brown eyes. Sam was silent and Jaz glanced around the room before looking at Sam, his hair tousled.

"Where's Dean?" Jaz asked, shoving the blankets off and throwing his legs over the side to sit up.

"He left just a few seconds ago," Sam narrowed his eyes ever so slightly.

"I figured," Jaz said, more to himself then anything else - after all that can't sleep without the other in the room works both ways.

Sam was silent as he watched Jaz scratch his stomach and yawn. He had been having these thoughts lately, thoughts that should have scared him but didn't. Thoughts that made him smile and plan instead. Jaz, not liking the silence and feeling his stare, looked up.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked.

Jaz furrowed his brows. "I was tired. . ." he trailed off, not under standing.

"No. Why are you HERE?" Sam said again.

Jaz paused. "I'm here because you left and John took me in . . ."

"Dean would be more compliant if you were gone." Sam said harshly.

Jaz raised his eyebrows before he narrowed his eyes. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

"You know exactly what it means,"

Jaz narrowed his eyes even further as well as sat up a little straighter. "I don't know what the hell your problem is, Sam, but you need to watch it or we're going to have a real problem here." he said firmly, getting up and going to the door. He turned the handle and opened up the door, letting in the cool night air, before he could step out, Sam spoke.

"He would understand how dad and I feel about the fact that they one woman we really loved, is dead. And you are that-"

Jaz didn't stay to hear the rest the rest, slamming the door behind him. He walked straight into the parking lot and continued to walk; not really caring about the sharp gravel pocking his bare feet. He finally stopped at the edge of the lot and the edge of the empty highway, trying to calm his breath. A slight breeze ruffled his hair as he looked to the complete black sky over head.

"Why the hell don't you have any shoes on?" Dean demanded, his voice shooting through the dark air.

Jaz couldn't help the gasp of surprise that escaped him, but was glad that he didn't piss his pants. He turned to the right where Dean's voice had come from. He wasn't visible but Jaz could make out the glow and bob of the cherry from the lit cigarette between his fingers. Jaz didn't say anything as Dean stepped in beside, lacing his finger in Jaz's. Before Dean could move away, Jaz grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag.

"I thought those things were bad for you?" Dean said in comment to the action.

Jaz looked as him as he took the cigarette from between his lips. "I'll try to control myself," Jaz said, sarcastic.

Dean peered at him through the darkness. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You could say that," Jaz deadpanned, taking another drag.

Sam's opportunity came a mere month and a half later, his way of getting rid of Jaz while at the same time. If multiple people had to get hurt for this to work, then so be it - as long as his ultimate goal was obtained. It was Las Vegas and the crowds were big, to many people to remembered a strangers face. It was the perfect place and the perfect monster. A shapeshifter to be more exact.

Over the past month and a half, Sam had played it nice. The tension between the three of them had lessened, thanks to Sam's deceiving. And because of that he had time, time to do his own research on the case. He had finally found the shapeshifter's lair, but he wasn't going to tell Dean and Jaz just yet. He had his own plans in mind for this shapeshifter.

He had told Dean and Jaz that he was going to the library to do more research on the case; Dean had accepted this and gone back to cleaning his guns. Jaz, on the other hand, had kept his gaze on Sam, not forgetting what Sam had so casually said about getting rid of him. Sam had kept his face blank until he was out of the motel room and out of the lot, which was when he let the grin cross his face.

The shapeshifter's lair was in an old abandoned house at the end of a dead-end road. Sam knew that the shapeshifter was there, in the bowels of the houses foundations. Slowly, he made his way from the front door, down to the basement; the floorboards beneath his feet creaking from his weight. He switched on his flashlight as he toed open the basement door, flashing the light down the many steps. Slowly, he descended.

"Did you really think that you could come here alone and kill me by yourself, did you?" a disembodied voice echoed around Sam.

Sam couldn't help the smile that crossed his face. "Quite the opposite actually,"

"Is that so," said the voice, curious.

"I have no real quarrel with, shifter." Sam told it.

"But I have one with you," it Sam back.

"I want to make a deal," Sam said, getting back on track.

"I'm listening," hissed through the air.

"I want someone dead and you can help with that." Sam said.

"What would I get in return?" it asked.

"Your life." Sam said bluntly.

"I could kill you right now," it said. "And no one would know."

Sam chuckled at that. "I very much doubt that."

The shifter was silent for a moment. "And what is it that you would have me do?"

"There's someone I want you to look like and get noticed by the other hunter's I'm with, I'll take care of the rest." Sam informed.

There was creaking on the steps above Sam, he turned and shone his light upward. The light enveloped the shapeshifter and Sam saw the familiar face. "This hunter, you mean?" it said, making an evil sneer cross the copy of Jaz's lips.

"That's the one," Sam nodded, an evil twist to his own lips.

"You sure this is the place?" Jaz asked, sceptically.

"I'm sure of it," Sam nodded.

Jaz gave him a look, shinning his flashlight at the abandoned house in front of them.

"Shouldn't we have brought Dean with us?" Jaz asked, still reluctant.

"He broke his wrist, remember?" Sam gave him a look this time.

"Right," Jaz cursed, forgetting that little detail.

Dean had fallen down a few flights of stair at their motel, he broke his wrist but other then that he got a few bruises. Sam had found the shapeshifter's lair and all three of them figured that they better get this done tonight - before the shifter killed any more, with Jaz's appearance to par. God, Jaz hated shifter's, so much. Dean was pissed that he wouldn't be able to help, but they couldn't just stall because he couldn't hold a gun.

"You ready?" Sam asked, raising his gun with his flashlight hand supporting it.

Jaz gave a curt nod, raising his own gun as he slowly turned the door knob and pushed the door open. It swung open, it creaked, and the sound seeming louder then it really was in the still air. Sam went in first, crossing over to the right. Jaz went second, crossing over to the left. They cleared the rooms on the first floor, finding no sign of any shapeshifter - no used appearances on the floor. Sam took the stairs up to the second floor two at a time.

Jaz stood in front of the basement door, it was open a crack and his flashlight shone off of some smeared glossiness from a shredded appearance. Jaz winced, wanting to gag as he pushed open the door and shone his light down the steps. Jaz glanced behind himself, he could hear the floor creaking upstairs as Sam moved around. He turned back to the doorway, looking down into the dank basement warily.

Jaz was about to take the first step when he felt the pressure on his lower back and flew down the stairs, tumbling head over heals. He slammed painfully into the wall at the end of the step, hitting his head hard against the wall. He had lost his gun some where in the fall, lucky it didn't go off on the way down. He had lost his flashlight too, it bounced off the wall and was somewhere farther in the basement - he could see it ray of light pointing at another pile of a shredded appearance. This was definitely the shifter's lair.

Jaz groaned painfully as he tried to sit up, but the pressure of a foot on his chest prevented him from doing so. He looked up and in the faint light from his flashlight he stared into his own eyes - the shifter's eyes. Jaz just froze; he couldn't breath, couldn't move, and couldn't yell for Sam. All of the memories that he had buried when he was thirteen, what it felt like to stare at someone who took your appearance and started to kill people.

The shifter had a sneer across its lips as it reached behind itself and pulled out a gun pointing it right between Jaz's eyes. It was about to open its mouth when there was three loud bangs, three bullets of silver pierced its back. It fell forward and onto Jaz, who tried to shove it off but didn't have enough strength to do so. Sam, on the other hand did. He pulled it off of Jaz as if it weighed nothing; Jaz breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Sam." Jaz breathed. "I thought I was done for, for sure." he raised his hand towards Sam, asking for some help up, but Sam didn't take his hand.

"You are gonna be done for," Sam said, looking down at him. "The shapeshifter just isn't the one who's going to do it."

Jaz dropped his hand, looking up at Sam in confusion. "What . . .?"

"With you gone, Dean will understand." Sam said simply.

And that was when Jaz remembered what Sam had said about getting rid of him. He had put it to the back of his mind, but had never forgotten about it. He had never really believed when Sam had gotten all nice all of a sudden. Figured that what ever Sam tried to do - if he ever tried to do anything - wouldn't do something like this.

Sam tucked his gun away and pulled out a very sharp looking blade in it's place.

"While I was upstairs the shifter stabbed you after pushing you down the stairs, I was able to kill the shifter, but not before you were dead." Sam told him with a smile.

Jaz looked up at him in horror and shock, his eyes shooting to the ground in search of his gun. Before he could find his Gun, Sam grabbed him by the front of his shirt, haling him up. Jaz's head pounded from what he was sure was a concussion, parts of his body throbbed and he was sure that he fractured his ankle. His shoulder was dislocated so he was helpless to defend himself as Sam pulled the knife back, ready to thrust.

"It wasn't nice knowing you," he brought the knife forward.

The sharpness of it pierce through Jaz's stomach as it it were mere butter, and his stomach flared white hot. Jaz's eyes widened and he gasped in pain, his good arm rose up and griped Sam's arm. Blood filled his mouth and leaked from the corner of his mouth. Sam looked at him for a moment before dropping him unceremoniously back to the floor. Jaz grunted at the impacted, coughing up blood as a result. His breath came in short spurts.

Sam tossed the knife by the dead shapeshifter before he took a step away from Jaz and pulled out his cell phone. He speed dialled Dean and gave a wicked smile at Jaz who was choking on his own blood.

Dean picked up at the first ring. "Sam? Are you okay? Did you kill it?" he said in a rush.

Sam made he voice all panicky and worried as he turned his back to Jaz. "Dean, oh my God! I think Jaz is dead, Dean!"

"What! Sam, what do you mean? Check on him, Sam. Check on him!"

"Dean! There's blood every where! What do I do?"

"I coming over there! Sam! Stay where you are!" Dean hung up the phone.

Sam closed his cell with a snap and a satisfied sigh and shoved it back into his back pocket. He turned back to Jaz. "It's as simple as that."

Jaz looked at him, a stray tear running out of the corner of his eye. He could believe that Sam would do something like this, something like this to Dean. But Jaz wasn't going to let him do this to Dean. While Sam had his back turned to Jaz, he had searched frantically for his missing gun. He had thanked God a thousand times over when he found it near.

Jaz looked Sam hard in the eye. "I didn't think that it was nice knowing you either, Sam." he said through a mouth full of blood.

Sam cocked his head to the side, not believing that Jaz would give up that easily. He was proven right when Jaz raised his good hand, his missing gun clutched in his fist. Sam had only time for his eyes to widen in surprise before Jaz fired two shots in his chest. He hit the ground dead.

Jaz let him arm fall back to the ground will a gasp. His head was getting real groggy and he was losing feeling. He was lightly headed and everything was tired. Dean would probably be here in ten minutes, but Jaz didn't think that he could hold on that. He needed Dean to know the truth about what happened, even if it killed him to do so. Painstakingly, he dug in his jean pockets for his cell. It took him a minute to find the number in his phone, his vision blurred. He took a few seconds more to put the cell on speaker before he let the drop by his ear.

He closed his eyes and his breath was heavy as the rang and rang - it felt like forever until Dean finally picked up the other end.

"J-Jaz?" came his voice, slightly muffled.

"Dean . . ." Jaz's voice was weak.

"Jaz! Hold on, I'm almost there! Where's Sam?" he asked.

"Dean," Jaz gasped. "There's something I have to tell you . . ."