1.06
We pull up at a gas station and I finally can stretch my legs. I really miss riding shotgun most of the time. I'm clearly not made for sharing.
"Alright," says Dean, "I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." Sam's absorbed on his phone. "Sam wears women's underwear."
"I've been listenin', I'm just busy."
"Busy doin' what?"
"Reading e-mails."
Dean gets out of the car to get gas and I get out too and lean on the door.
"From who?" I ask.
"From my friends at Stanford," says Sam.
"You're kidding," says Dean. "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"
"Why not?"
"What do you say to them?" I ask.
Sam frowns.
"You know, about where you've been, what you've been doin'?" adds Dean.
"I tell them I'm on a road trip with my big brother and baby sister. I tell them I needed some time off after Jess."
"I'm not a baby," I say.
Sam makes a face at me.
"So you lie to them," says Dean.
"No," says Sam. "I just don't tell them….everything."
"Yeah, that's called lying. I mean, hey, man, I get it, telling the truth is far worse."
"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?"
Dean shrugs.
"You're serious?" asks Sam.
"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period. We just got each other."
"You guys are kind of anti-social, you know that?"
I shrug.
"Yeah, whatever," says Dean.
"We're fine," I say.
Sam goes back to reading his emails. "God…"
"What?" asks Dean.
"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine."
"Is she hot?"
I hit Dean on the arm and Sam ignores him.
"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."
"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?"
"No, man, I know Zack. He's no killer."
"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you."
"They're in St. Louis. We're goin'."
Dean laughs but Sam's not joking.
"You're not serious?" I ask.
"Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay?" says Dean. "But this does not sound like our kind of problem."
"It is our problem. They're my friends," says Sam.
"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam."
Dean goes in to get snacks.
"If we're going, I'm riding shotgun," I tell Sam.
He laughs.
"Sam," I warn.
"Oh come on, it's 400 miles!"
"You chose the destination, I'm choosing my seat."
Sam rolls his eyes but gets out and climbs in the back.
"Thank you very much," I say and get in.
Dean comes back and tosses the snacks on my lap, and we start towards St Louis.
We arrive to a very nice-looking house. Sam knocks on the door. A very pretty young woman opens the door.
"Oh my God, Sam!" she says.
"Well, if it isn't little Becky," says Sam.
"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," she smiles at him and they hug.
"I got your e-mail," says Sam.
"I didn't think that you would come here."
Dean steps forward and puts out his hand. "Dean. Older brother." They shake hands.
I just smile.
"This is my little sister, Janie," says Sam.
"Jane," I correct.
"Hi," says Rebecca.
"Hi," I say.
"We're here to help," says Sam. "Whatever we can do."
"Come in," says Rebecca.
We go in and Dean shuts the door.
"Nice place," he says.
"It's my parents'," says Rebecca. "I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."
"Where are your folks?" asks Sam.
"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial," says Rebecca, leading us into the kitchen. "Do you guys want a beer or soda or something?" she smiles at me.
Dean smiles, "Hey-"
"No, thanks," says Sam. "So, tell us what happened."
"Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing," she starts to cry. "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, 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. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, 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. Zack's house," says Sam.
"We could," says Dean.
"Why? I mean, what could you do?" asks Rebecca.
"Well, me, not much," says Sam. "But Dean's a cop."
Dean laughs. "Detective, actually."
I hide my smile behind my hand.
"Really? Where?"
"Bisbee, Arizona. But I'm off-duty now."
"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just—I don't know."
"Bec, look," says Sam. "I know Zack didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent."
"Okay," says Rebecca. "I'm gonna go get the keys." She goes down the hallway.
"I thought you didn't lie to your friends," I say to Sam.
"Look, Zack and Becky need our help," he says.
"I just don't think this is our kind of problem."
"Two places at once? We've looked into less."
He's right.
We drive to Zack's house and get out.
"You're sure this is okay?" Rebecca asks Dean.
"Yeah. I am an officer of the law," he lies and we go into the house.
"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" asks Sam.
"No. I wanna help," she ducks under the police tape. "Besides if your little sister can handle it, so can I."
We all climb under the tape and into the house.
"Tell us what else the police said," says Sam.
"Well, there's no sign of a break-in," says Rebecca. "They say that Emily let her attacker in. The Lawyers—they're already talking about plea bargain." She looks around the room, it's pretty awful. She starts to cry. "Oh, god…"
"Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"
Rebecca shakes her head and I look at the mess in the room…it's brutal. Blood stains everywhere, furniture everywhere and broken.
"Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack's clothes. The police—they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."
There's a dog outside barking incessantly. Dean goes to the front door to look at him.
"You know, that used to be the sweetest dog."
"What happened?" asks Dean.
"He just changed."
"Do you remember when he changed?"
"I guess around the time of the murder."
Dean walks away, I peer out the door to look at the dog. He does look angry. "Traumatic even for a dog," I say.
Rebecca nods. "For everyone," she says and goes back inside.
I close the door and find Sam in the hallway.
"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam is saying.
"Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin'," says Dean.
"So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"
"No. Probably not," says Dean. "But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure."
"Yeah."
Rebecca comes over.
"So, the tape," Dean says to her. "The security footage—you think maybe your Lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."
"I've already got it," she says. "I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop."
Dean laughs and so do I.
"I stole it off the Lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."
"All right."
Rebecca puts the tape on in the lounge room. It's not the best quality but I've seen worse.
"Here he comes," says Rebecca. It shows Zack coming into the house.
"2204," says Dean, "that's just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30."
"Our Lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with."
I watch the tape. It may not have been tampered with but there's something.
"Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?" asks Sam.
"Oh, sure," she says and gets up. "Three beers and one soda," Rebecca says eyeing me as she turns to leave.
"Maybe some sandwiches, too?"
"What do you think this is, Hooters?" Rebecca leaves the room.
"I wish," says Dean.
"You're gross," I say.
Dean rubs his hand on my hair. I slap him off and try and fix my hair with my hands.
"What is it?" Dean asks sitting down next to me.
"Check this out," says Sam. He rewinds the tape, then replays it. Zack's looking at the camera and his eyes are white.
"Well, maybe it's just a camera flare," says Dean.
"I don't think so," I say.
"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul," says Sam.
"Right," says Dean.
"Remember that dog that was freakin' out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him but isn't him."
"Like a Doppelganger."
"Yeah. It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."
We get the motel late and I'm exhausted. I grab my bag and head to the bathroom.
"Where do you think you're going?" asks Dean.
"400 miles with you two and no shower? I'm claiming it first," I say.
"I need the bathroom!" says Dean dropping his bag on a bed.
"There's gas station down the street!" I call as I close and lock the door.
Ah a clean unspoiled bathroom. I take my time in the shower and use all of the motel conditioner on my hair. I should really get a haircut but if I'm not getting new shoes, I doubt Sam and Dean will sit by while I get my hair cut. I ignore Sam's pounding on the door while I braid my hair. I'm still learning so it takes a few tries.
"Jane, come on!" Sam pounds on the door again.
I start humming AC/DC.
"She's been hanging out with you too long," I hear Sam complain.
I finish the braid and tie it off. Pretty good effort if I say myself. I unlock the door and go out.
Sam actually pushes past me and slams the door. I laugh and throw my bag on a bed. I've never been more grateful for family rooms as I don't have to bunk with Sam or Dean. Although they clearly have relegated me to the sole twin bed in the room. Rude. Dean's watching TV. I plop on the couch next to him.
"How was the gas station?" I ask.
"Disgusting," he says.
"Oh," I say, remembering. "Did you have those stamps still?"
"Uh, yeah, in the car, why?"
"I need to mail my math packet in."
"I thought you're supposed to mail the whole set in when you're done?" Dean asks pulling out the keys from his pocket.
"I know. I did," I take the keys.
"You finished six math packets?"
"Yeah," I say and go out to the car. I find the stamps in the glovebox and am about to go back into the room, I didn't bother closing the door properly.
"Dude, is being a nerd hereditary?" I hear Dean ask.
"No. Why?" says Sam.
"Freaky sister has finished 6 months' worth of maths in 2 months."
Sam laughs. "She's not stupid."
"But come on, that's fast, right?"
"I guess. Maybe, I mean I don't think home school programs are that difficult. Do you really think Dad chose this one for its academic challenges or because it was one of the few that didn't need a home address?"
"Come on, man, that's not fair."
"Really, as soon as Dad found out that Janie didn't have to go to physical school how quickly did he pull her out? She was barely a month in to the second grade."
"What did you expect? You'd just graduated and we were travelling all the time."
"Not to mention Dad was getting phone calls because of Janie's 'stories' or don't you remember?"
"I remember…"
"Dad was so mad I thought he was going to take Jane back to New Hampshire…"
"She was scared!" yells Dean.
"Yeah I know, and Dad's reaction was to pull her out of school so she'd stop telling people that her family hunt things from stories. I mean what friends does Jane even have?"
"She talks to people online!"
"But not in person. You're telling me for years the only people Jane's talked to properly are you and Dad? That's not normal."
"Jane's fine."
"She needs friends."
Annoyed I slam the door shut behind me. "I have friends, Sam."
Sam nearly jumps out of his skin. "I just meant…"
"What?" I ask, waiting.
He says nothing. I go to my bag and pack up my math packets. I hand them over to Dean, avoiding the side of the couch that Sam's sitting on. I hand him a pen. Dean signs and dates the front of the workbooks and hands them to me as he does one at a time. Neither of them say anything as I put them in the envelope, address it, stick a stamp on or heard out the door to mail it. There's a post-box collection at the front of the motel. I consider going off somewhere just to show Sam, but I know Dean would be pissed so I sigh and head back to the room.
Just to annoy Sam I hog the only ethernet line to my laptop so I can talk with my friends online. When Sam says he wants it for research into the case and I just ignore him.
He asks again an hour later. But this time I am legitimately talking to a friend.
"Janie, come on," Dean says. "You've been on there for ages."
"I'm talking with Maggie."
"Maggie can wait."
I look up at Sam who's standing over me holding his laptop like I'm stopping his puppy from having lifesaving treatment.
I type to Maggie that I'll talk to her later because my brother sucks. She says she gets it. I unplug the cable and move away from the table.
"Sorry I tried to be normal," I say to Sam.
"Jane, I didn't mean it," Sam says.
"Oh of course not, that's why you said it."
Sam looks over at Dean who's poring over Dad's journal. He looks up. "Dude, don't look at me. You're the one who said it."
I put my laptop in my backpack, climb into bed and turn off my light.
I've never been so grateful to go to bed early out of spite. Sam shakes me awake at 5.04am.
"What?" I groan.
"Get up, get dressed. I've had a thought."
"Wonderful. Keep it for a few more hours."
"No, let's go."
Sam goes over to Dean's bed to wake him up. Ugh. I roll out of bed. I'm so using the bathroom first again.
We're at the back of Zack's house. It's early. It's cold. The sun is barely up. I'm standing in an alley. No good thing.
"Alright, so what are we doin' here at 5:30 in the morning?" asks Dean.
"That couldn't have waited a few more hours?" I ask.
"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out," says Sam.
I frown. "Still could have waited."
"So, he came out the back door?" asks Dean.
"Right," says Sam. "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. I still don't know what we're doin' here at 5:30 in the morning."
"Me either," I say and yawn. I lean on the car.
Sam's looking around. "Blood," he says and pointed to a telephone pole. "Somebody came this way."
"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here."
An ambulance goes past, sirens blaring. This can't be good. We follow the ambulance. A man is handcuffed and officers are putting him into a car. We push in through the crowd, Dean's hands gripping my shoulders.
"What happened?" asks Dean to a woman.
"He tried to kill his wife. Tied her up and beat her," she says.
"Really?" asks Sam.
"I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy."
The man is driven away.
We wait until the crowd dissipates and Dean goes off to talk to people. Sam and I look around the back and side of the house. There's nothing. No sign of anything out of the ordinary.
"Jane, I-" Sam starts.
"What?"
"I didn't mean what I said yesterday. I just…I worry about you."
I huff. "You've had years of not worrying. Why start now?"
Sam doesn't answer, he's looking off into the distance somewhere out front.
"Hey," I hear Dean Sam and I turn to him. "Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?"
"Yeah," says Sam.
"Definitely our kind of problem."
"What'd you find out?"
"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."
"So, he was two places at once."
"Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob."
"Two people being in the same place at the same time and going violently crazy isn't normal."
"Could be the Same thing doin' it, too."
"Shapeshifter?" Sam offers. "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"
"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."
"Right, skinwalkers, werewolves," Sam says.
"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowlin' the neighborhood."
"Becoming anyone? How are we supposed to find that?"
"Well, let me ask you this—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?" asks Sam.
"Not that I know of."
"I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out 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. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared."
"Well, there's another way to go—down."
There's a manhole in the road near where the trail ends.
"Oh yuck," I say.
Dean grabs a crowbar from someone's yard while Sam and I get flashlights from the car.
"Ladies first," Dean says when he opens the cover.
"Off you go, Sam," I say.
Sam rolls his eyes but climbs down. I go down after, then Dean. We look around. It's tight and full of pipes and smells I never thought existed.
"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around," says Sam.
"I think you're right. Look at this," says Dean bending down.
There's skin and blood in a pile.
"Ugh that's a whole new level of disgusting," I say.
"Is this from his victims?" Sam asks.
Dean takes out his pocketknife and picks up some of the skin. I never wanted to see skin off somebody before and I never want to again. I gag.
"You know, I just had a sick thought," says Dean. "When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds."
"That is sick."
Dean drops the skin back to the pile and it makes a sickening wet sound. "Let's get what we need."
We climb back up the car and Dean opens the trunk and pulls out a gun.
"Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it," says Dean.
"Silver bullet to the heart."
"That's right."
I pull out the cartridge of silver bullets and Dean loads the gun. Sam's phone rings and he answers.
"We're near Zack's, we're just checkin' some things out…What are you talkin' about?...Why would you do that? Bec—"
"This doesn't sound good…" I say.
Dean shakes his head.
"Bec, I'm sorry, but—"
She's clearly hung up. Dean walks over.
"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about," says Dean. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—"
"If I was like you," says Sam.
"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain't without perks." Dean holds up his gun and Sam takes it. "Car," Dean says to me.
"Excuse me?" I ask.
"Crazy shapeshifter? No way I'm risking you near that thing. Car, doors locked. You got it?"
"But Dean," I complain.
"No buts. Car, get in. Now."
I roll my eyes and get in. Dean literally watches as I lock each door. "Can I put a window down?"
"No," Dean says. He waves goodbye and I watch as he and Sam go back down into the sewer. Well, at least there's one perk to staying in the car.
Eventually Sam and Dean come back. I unlock the passenger door and climb out and catch up to them.
"Did you get it?" I ask.
"No," says Dean.
"You think it found another way underground?" asks Sam.
"Yeah, probably. You got the keys?" asks Dean.
Sam stops for a moment. He taps my right shoulder twice. "Hey, didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" he asks Dean.
"Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?"
"Oh, right. Here ya go," Sam says and tosses the keys. Dean goes to the trunk.
I mouth 'what?' at Sam. He signals for me to stay back. Oh crap.
"Don't move!" says Sam, he's pointing the gun at Dean. "What have you done with him?"
"Dude, chill. It's me, all right?" says Dean?
"No, I don't think so. Where's my brother?"
"You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down."
"Sam, are you sure?" I ask.
"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," says Sam.
"Yeah, it's better. What do you want me to do, cry?" teases Dean.
"You're not my brother."
"Why don't you pull the trigger, then?"
"Sam…" I say coming up behind him. "I don't think…"
"You're not sure," says Dean. "Dude, you know me."
"Don't," says Sam.
Dean pauses but then hits Sam with something. He falls to the ground.
"Dean?" I ask.
"Guess again," he says before everything goes black.
"Janie? Janie?!"
I open my eyes. I can't move my neck and my hands are tied. I look around. Sam is to my left, he's bound a post.
Dean, or Not-Dean hit Sam across the face.
"Sh sh sh," says Not-Dean. "I wouldn't worry about him. I'd worry about you. And little sis here"
"Where is he?"
"You don't really wanna know," he laughs. Ugh. It's awful. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family—I thought I came from a bad background."
"What do you mean, learn?"
The shapeshifter stops and holds his head. He's in pain. Then he stops and looks at Sam.
"He's sure got issues with you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. With Janie. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Jane needed me. Where the hell were you?"
"Where is my brother?" demands Sam.
The shapeshifter leans close to Sam. "I am your brother. 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 talkin' about?"
"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. And Janie to take care of. And you and I both know she wants more than this. She's gonna follow in your footsteps. Never mind that I practically raised her. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks." He laughs that horrible laugh. "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens."
He smiles and covers Sam with a sheet. Then he comes over to me.
I try to move away but I can't. He leans into my ear and whispers, "You know you're a burden to him." He kisses my cheek and covers me with a sheet too.
I hear the shapeshifter leave and I try to hold back the tears.
"Jane, you okay?" asks Sam.
I take a breath. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
I shake to get my sheet off and when I do I see Sam trying to get free of the ropes.
"Damnit," he says.
"You're not Superman," I say.
"We gotta get out of here."
There's coughing from somewhere else in the room.
"That better be you guys, and not that freak of nature," says Dean's voice.
"Yeah it's us," says Sam. "He went to Rebecca's, lookin' like you."
"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one."
We're all trying to pull free of the ropes.
"Yeah, that's the thing. He didn't just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you," says Sam.
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories."
"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?"
"Yeah, somethin' like that. I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us."
Dean stands up and comes over to free me.
"You good?" he asks.
"I think so," I say as my arms are freed.
Dean raises his eyebrows at me.
"I'm fine," I correct.
He takes my hands to help me up.
"Maybe he needs to keep us alive," says Dean. "Psychic connection," he starts to undo Sam's ropes.
"Hands. Yeah. Come on, we gotta go. He's probably at Rebecca's already."
I rub my wrists and follow them out a window and onto the street.
"Come on," says Sam. "We gotta find a phone, call the police."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. You're gonna put an APB out on me," says Dean.
Sam just shrugs. "Sorry."
"This way," says Dean and we run down the street.
We find a store with TVs playing a news report…it's not looking good for Dean. "An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home." A sketch of Dean appears on the screen.
"Man! That's not even a good picture." says Dean.
"It's good enough," says Sam and keep walking I follow.
"Man!" Dean exclaims.
We're taking alleys just in case. I hear a splash. Dean's stepped into a puddle.
"Come on," Sam says to Dean. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"
"I didn't kill her," says Dean.
"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right."
"All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him."
"Dean you can't," I say.
"We have no weapon. No silver bullets," says Sam.
"Sam, the guy's walkin' around with my face, okay, it's a little personal, I wanna find him."
"Okay. Where do we look?"
"Well, we could start with the sewers."
"We have no weapon. He stole our gun, we need more."
They say nothing for a moment.
"Are you both idiots?" I ask. "The car."
"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's," says Dean.
"The news said he fled on foot. I bet it's still parked there."
"The thought of him drivin' my car," Dean says dramatically.
"All right, come on," says Sam and we keep going.
"It's killin' me," says Dean.
"Dean, come on," I say. "It's a car."
We finally make it to Rebecca's house. The Impala is parked around the side.
"Oh, there she is!" says Dean. "Finally, something went right tonight."
A police car drives up and parks next to it.
"Oh, crap."
We turn around but another police car is only a few yards away.
"This way, this way," says Dean and he pushes me along to a fence.
"You guys go, I'll hold 'em off," says Sam.
"What are you talking about? They'll catch you."
"Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca's."
Dean gives me a lift over the fence.
"Dean," says Sam as I'm climbing over. "Stay out of the sewers alone." Dean jumps over. "I mean it!" calls Sam.
"Yeah, yeah," says Dean and we make our way through some random's yard.
Dean pauses around the back of Rebecca's house. "You need to go in," he says to me.
"What about you?"
"I've got things to do."
"You can't go after it alone!" I say.
"I need to."
"Why?"
"Jane, not now."
I follow Dean. We've looped around the block and the police are gone from the car.
"The house is safe, go inside!"
"You're not Dad!"
"Right now, I am, do as I say!"
"Fine," I say as Dean opens the trunk. "You can leave me too."
I go knock on Rebecca's door.
"Jane?" she asks, a little shocked.
"Hi, I'm sorry, but my brothers are… anyway. Dean said to come here, is that okay?"
"Of course," she smiles and opens the door.
We go to the living room and she gets me a soda. As soon as she hands it to me, there's a knock at the door. It's Sam.
"Janie?" he asks when he sees me.
"I'll get you a beer," says Rebecca.
He sits on the couch with me. "Where's Dean?"
"Where do you think?"
"Dammit," says Sam.
Rebecca comes back in with a beer and we all pretend to have other things to talk about before Sam finally gives up and tells her the truth. Rebecca pauses, and says she'll bring us more drinks.
"So, say this shapeshifter is real," she says coming back in. "By the way, you know you're crazy? But, um, say it is real. How do you stop it?" She hands Sam a new beer and takes my empty soda bottle.
"Thanks," he sighs. "Silver bullet to the heart."
Rebecca laughs. "You are crazy."
She hits Sam over the head.
I scream.
"Shut it," the shapeshifter says to me, then hits me over the head with my empty bottle.
The shapeshifter ties me and Sam to chairs in the kitchen. And it's not Rebecca anymore. It's Dean. Oh god.
"What are you gonna do to us?" asks Sam.
"Oh, I'm not gonna do anything. Dean will, though." It says.
"They'll never catch him."
"Oh, doesn't matter. murder in the first of his own brother? He'll be hunted the rest of his life." It picks up a sharp knife and looks at it.
"Sam…" I whisper as the shapeshifter walks around the house.
"It's gonna be fine," says Sam.
I narrow my eyes. "You're such a liar."
The shapeshifter comes back into the kitchen. "I must say, I will be sorry to lose this skin. Your brother's got a lot of good qualities. You should appreciate him more than you do," he pours himself a drink and raises the glass to us. "Cheers." He takes a drink and picks up the knife and sticks it into the pool table. Sam suddenly kicks up his legs and kicks the shapeshifter; it falls down. Sam sits up and moves his arms back and forth on the knife in the table. The shapeshifter is up but Sam takes the knife and swings at him. The shapeshifter grabs Sam's arm and twists it. Sam falls down.
"Oh you son of a bitch," says the shapeshifter. He picks up the knife and throws it at me. I duck. While the shapeshifter was watching me, Sam kicks his legs out from under him. They fight and Sam tries to pin him down. "Not bad little brother."
"You're not him," says Sam.
They keep fighting. The shapeshifter throws Sam into a bookshelf, breaking it.
"Sam!" I shout.
"Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass," it says to Sam. It grabs a pool cue and swings at him. Missing and hitting a light instead. Sam and the shapeshifter keep fighting. They fall onto the coffee table. The shapeshifter pins Sam to the floor and chokes him. I fight my ropes on the chair but it's not use.
"Sam!" I shout again. But I know it's hopeless. I look around for the knife that was thrown but I can't find it.
"Hey!" it's Dean!
The shapeshifter gets off Sam. I hear the shots. Two of them. It falls t the ground. Dead.
Rebecca comes in. "Sam!" she runs over to him. Dean goes to the shapeshifter and takes something off him. He runs over to me.
"Oh jeez," he says and he touches my face.
"What?" I ask.
"You're bleeding," says Dean and he undoes the ropes. I reach up. The knife nicked my ear.
"It's fine," I say. "Can't even feel it."
Dean pulls me up into a hug.
Sam's saying goodbye to Rebecca and Dean's checking the map.
"What d'you think they're talking about?" I ask.
"None of our business," says Dean.
"Since when?"
"Since now. Don't be nosy."
I get in the passenger seat and wind down the window, "You're just pretending to not be nosy."
"Baby steps, Munch."
Sam leans on the passenger window. "Seriously," he says to me.
I lock the door. "Oh no. How ever will I get out," I say sarcastically.
Sam rolls his eyes but smiles.
"So, what about your friend, Zack?" asks Dean.
"Cops are blamin' this Dean Winchester guy for Emily's murder. They found the murder weapon in the guy's lair, Zack's clothes stained with her blood. Now they're thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon."
Sam climbs in the back and Dean gets in the front and hands me the map.
As we're driving Dean says, "Sorry, man."
"About what?" asks Sam.
"I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College."
"No, that's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in."
"Well, that's 'cause you're a freak."
I laugh.
"Yeah, thanks."
"Well, I'm a freak, too."
"Me too," I say.
"We're right there with ya, all the way."
Sam laughs. "Yeah, I know you guys are."
"You know, I gotta say—I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."
"Miss what?"
"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?"
"Do you want me to write your obituary?" I ask.
"Hell yes!" yells Dean.
"Maybe a nice poem?"
Dean laughs.
"Our big brother Dean, was a pain in our spleens," I start.
"Bossy and mean and rude, liked to say 'dude'" Sam continues.
"Now he's royally screwed," I finish.
"Beautiful," says Dean. "Do they charge by the letter?"
He laughs, and I look over at him. He seems happy. Surely I'm not too much of a burden? Right?