Assassination's note: This took three days straight to do. Basically watched Slash Fiction then a few hours later started working on this fic and kept on going just to get it done the day before or on Halloween. Also asked CitrusShinigami help me out with this (and read it, suggesting what I should change and whatnot). Let me just put it out there right now that I haven't typed anything sexual by myself in a while so I'm kinda rusty and this, you could say, was a challenge for myself.
So...I hope you enjoy. Or something like that.

It had been a long day and nothing seemed to have paid off. Their doppelgangers had ruined their lives, putting them on the most wanted list after a few hours. Or was it days? Either way the police had caught up with them, but caught the wrong subjects in question. At this moment Sam was sitting in the interrogation room. His hazel eyes were locked onto the cuffs secured around his wrists, locked down to the table by an iron loop.

The chains jangled when he adjusted his hands' position, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles.

Dean was most likely locked up and demanding his phone call. Probably planning on calling Bobby since they caught up with the Leviathans. The creatures that slaughtered without hesitation, and if they wished to know how to delay more murders they needed Bobby's intel.

Sam swallowed thickly sucking his lower lip into his mouth, worrying his teeth on the flesh. His brows furrowed as he thought over what had happened, eyes intent on his hands as he continued to fiddle with them.

It seemed like there was a slim chance getting out of this with a slap on the wrist. There wasn't a chance in Hell that the cops would believe either of their stories on where they were, who they were with, and what they'd been doing when all these crimes were taking place. Shifting in his seat, Sam cringed inwardly as the chains clacked against the bar, reminding him where he was and why he was there.

He was under arrest.

For false charges.

What was worse was that he didn't have anything to pick the locks with. A frown marred his features while glancing up to the two way mirror. Releasing his now plump lip, Sam shifted his hands once again, furrowing his brows before turning his head away.

More police might be behind the mirror but that wasn't his main concern at this point in time. No. His thoughts trailed over to Dean. Was Dean all right? Had he had a chance to escape? Would he even come and get him? Which, really, was a ridiculous question when he thought about it.

Again, he couldn't pick the lock, nor could he break the handcuffs. He wasn't fucking Superman or a demon. Well, not since he kicked the habit cold turkey after the last detox. That ordeal had been horrible and the look on Dean's face -

Oh, God. He'd looked so hurt, so betrayed, so worried...

The brunet's hands curled into fists, eyes flickering with sadness for a moment then veering his eyes over to the interrogation room door, seeing Dean pop his head in. Sam was speechless, parting his lips to say the Dean's name, his head fell to peer at the handcuffs before lifting his head in time to see his brother shut the door.


And flick the lock.

"I'm not your brother."

Sam clenched his jaw, tensing up with how helpless he felt at this moment. Here he was: locked down, trapped in a room with a Leviathan, and one who dared to sport his brother's face. He watched the being intently, hissing some retort when the other had paused to look at him with those emerald hues that he'd adored.

The hunter kept his sights locked on the man who walked towards the table. He possessed Dean's confidence, his strut, and even sat on the edge of the table just like the elder Winchester would. Exactly as he would.

But this wasn't his Dean, wasn't his brother. It was a monster. A being from Purgatory. Something that should have remained hidden and locked away.

It wasn't Dean.

"Is this some sort of form of playing with your food? Why not just eat me and get it over with?" the hunter scowled, backing up in his chair as the lookalike moved to stand from his sitting position on the table.

A smile tugged at the Leviathan's lips, a sick, twisted, smile. "You're no fun at all, Sammy."

The taller man furrowed his brows as he shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Being in this kind of situation wasn't appealing in the slightest.

"...I guess that's why Dean never told you that he killed Amy."

Sam started at this information, a surprised look crossing his features. Dean killed her, went right behind his back and murdered Amy. Even though Sam had vouched for her, told his brother she had changed, that she'd only killed because her child was ill. Yet, despite all that, Dean stabbed him in the back.

His brother had betrayed him.

A bitterness had bloomed from within Sam's very core from this revelation, which became clear on his face.

By the amused look on the creature's face, he must have given the other the reaction he'd been fishing for.

"There it is." came past the smug man's lips, bringing the hunter's attention back up to the being's face. Hazel connecting with green. "The look on your face. This is priceless. That's what I've been looking for!"

Said shade darkened to a forest green, either from pleasure to digging up such a response or the predatory manner that each Leviathan possessed before devouring their target without shame.

Sam averted his eyes to peer over to the door. No one. He returned his gaze to the mirror to see where the fake had gone, feeling hands being placed on his shoulders, noticing that the doppelganger was leaning forward.

Leaning close to his back, head bent, lips brushing over the shell of his ear, the Leviathan offered up twisted whispers.

An unintended shiver ran down his spine. Sam swallowed thickly, pressing down the nauseating bile threatening to crawl up his throat to burn it and leave a vile taste in his mouth.

"I like my meat a little bitter," was purred, the Leviathan's tongue poked out and traced the outline of his ear, smirking once he caught the sound of Sam's breath hitching. Letting his eyes slide halfway shut, the shorter male moved his hands to run down the brunet's arms then to the captive wrists. "There's other things he hasn't told you."

"...fuck off." he ground out, shrugging the ancient being off roughly, shoulder slamming back against not-Dean's chin which in return had the man curse as he pulled back. Eyes intent on the mirror Sam noted the dribble of black blood that coming from its mouth. The Leviathan then rubbed his wounded chin for a moment before breathing in and out to calm himself.

"Shouldn't have done that, Sammy."

All that Sam could get out was a grunt once the being grabbed a fistful of his hair then slammed the hunter's face down onto the table. Squeezing his eyes shut, the younger man grit his teeth to force himself to focus, mainly on what was occurring behind him. Sam hissed as his hair was then tugged back, head jerking back at the motion to peer into narrowed eyes. He set his hazel spheres on the Leviathan's face, jaw set, shoulders straightened, and a determined expression set on his face.

If only the thing had possessed a flaw, one single flaw besides the black blood. Or ooze. Something.

"Only Dean can call me that." Seeing the monster start to retort, Sam quickly added, "The real Dean."

A smirk tugged at the corner of the fake's lips, the angered expression fading into amusement. "Do you really want that? Considering he, well, stabbed you in the back."

"Is this what you're going to do? Bore me to death then eat me?"

Tisking, the Leviathan shook his head, nice and slow; though his hands were doing something else as he leaned forward once more. They rested on the hunter's chest, one trailing downwards as the other slid up to grab hold of Sam's jaw. He held it tightly as he cocked the man's head to the side, forcing their eyes to lock.

"You should have seen it." His eyes flickered, showing a dark pleasure in the 'memory' that he was seeing, lips curving up into a crazed smile. "He waited in her motel room," the Leviathan poked his tongue out to lick his lips, hand tightening slightly on Sam's chin, the free hand moving to trace the muscles underneath it, "sat on the couch..." It slowly moved to the spot where Dean had stabbed Amy. "...knife in hand..."

"Shut up."

"And when he gave his little speech on how monsters and freaks -" Not-Dean's smirk widened once he noticed the cringe at the word, knowing that the man's little brother despised it. He was so sensitive about it. "- always stay the same, no matter how hard they try to change."

Whether or not this was a plan to make Sam feel uneasy, feel anger towards his brother, or even to hurt him, it was definitely working; if his eyes averting with his teeth gnawing on his lower lip were any indication. He kept reminding himself that this wasn't Dean.

Yet, what use was that when it made sense?

Dean's thoughts on hunting was just black and white, that one rule. If it kills, kill it. If it's a monster, kill it. If it's a freak, kill it.

Black and white rule, just like Gordon said. No shades of grey.

Sam inhaled sharply once he felt the lingering hand lay atop his thigh, right near his crotch. Attempting to get it away, Sam shifted his position from where the monster planned to go, though the interest to make the hunter as uncomfortable as possible was apparently urging the doppelganger on.

The hand gripping his jaw kept his neck vulnerable to a fatal bite, to easily take him down whenever it chose the time was right. When it was done playing.

"How can you trust your loving brother now?" it prodded, sliding the hand upwards. Slowly. "He killed poor Amy without a second thought. Who's to say he won't do the same to you?" Not-Dean's traveling limb stopped exactly at the curve of where the inside of his leg met his hip. Lightly brushing over the brunet's flaccid cock.

Baring his teeth, the younger Winchester's hands curled into fists. In a position that wanted to cause physical damage, leaving bruises in the rage that was coursing through his system. Sam's thoughts briefly trailed over to the child that was now left behind because of this, furrowing his brows without allowing himself to think that Dean probably had a legit reason.

But he'd told the hunter he trusted him.

"When you turn your back..."

Sam's eyes widened with a gasp, jerking his wrists to then cause the links to clatter against the loop.

The Leviathan palmed his crotch, kneading it with the lips it possessed brushing over the shell of his ear, nipping after an exhale.

"...he'll kill you."

Closing his eyes, the brunet repeated to himself over and over again that the other was lying. Even if all the evidence said otherwise and there was no plausible excuse to say that the story wasn't true in any way. Sam told himself that this was a Leviathan who tarnished Dean and his name, to make the brothers seem like complete maniacs who killed in cold blood. Who stole and killed any witnesses.

The hand on his dick wasn't helping much either. Seeing as it had his stomach twist in an uncomfortable manner.

Even though he knew this wasn't his brother, the thing's words were beginning to invade his thoughts, worming into his mind and twisting everything in a fucked up way. A hitched breath slipped out without his knowing, until it had been 'said and done.'

"Do you like this, Sammy?" A tongue flicked against the lobe of his ear, lips grazing downwards on his neck, continuing to fondle the resisting man.

This was twisted and wrong, he knew this, but that didn't seem to stop his body from reacting to the treatment it was receiving. Closing his hand over the other, Sam's nails dug into the skin harshly, leaving dark crescents in place when his hands flexed.

The fake took his hand away from the bulge, only to then fiddle around with the button to his captive's jeans.

Sam squirmed, shoulders rocking as he tried to push the Leviathan off his person, only to grit his teeth when his hair was tugged.

The hunter was getting frantic now, elbows jerking back, the cuff's chains beating against the loop. Rapid click, clang, clack, clinks echoing in the small room.

No. He didn't like this. And he definitely didn't like where it was heading once he heard the sound of metal grinding against metal.

Once the hand slipped into his jeans was the point where the man was struggling without even a single grunt once his hair was yanked in a warning fashion. Eventually the determination had come to frustrate the doppelganger even more than Sam's snippy comebacks, because the next thing the hunter knew, the side of his face was slammed against the table, and the hand on his cock tightening in a painful manner as the cuffs chaffed his skin from the last tug he'd managed to do before being slammed down.

"Stop struggling." was snarled into his ear, accompanied with a tug to his member, a harsh tug that had a strangled sound escape Sam's throat.

He turned his head as much as he was allowed. The hunter glared at his captor, blinking once the Dean lookalike cocked his head to brush his lips over Sam's own. The lookalike continued to stroke with a few twists of his wrist added in as he kissed the Winchester. Clamping his eyes shut, Sam bit his tongue, grunting out a disgusted sound once the doppelganger ran his tongue over the soft flesh, dully noting that it was slightly chapped.

Releasing the chocolate strands, the Leviathan moved to have it go down to join the other, fondling the other man's balls through the denim jeans. Mostly keeping his captive busy with keeping his tongue from getting inside that mouth he craved to taste just to see if it would taste even better than skin.

The Leviathan could give him props on how resistant he'd been thus far, and even with how well Sam managed to keep himself under control. Pivoting his head, not-Dean pressed his lips firmly against his captive's, nibbling on Sam's lower lip. Closing forest shaded eyes, the fake brushed the pad of his thumb over the slit, savoring the shudder that coursed through the Winchester's form. He squeezed both hands only to then be rewarded with a keening sound which gave him the opportunity to finally slip his tongue inside.

Grunting out in disgust, Sam shoved his shoulders back against the chest pressed against his back, his face twisted in a putrid and vile way; even if the Leviathan was working his hands on Sam's privates in all the right ways.

Forcing himself not to lose his lunch, Sam's brows knitted together before biting down on the the doppelganger's tongue, sucking in a relieved breath as he opened his eyes once the fake jerked his head back; looking absolutely livid to top it off.

Hazel orbs locked with green, slowly letting them lower to the black fluid dribbling down the Leviathan's chin and barely took note of how it hit the floor near the chair. Clenching his jaw, the hunter flicked his tongue out to lick the excess blood from his lips to then turn his head elsewhere and spit it out. Sam barely had time to look back at the other, feeling his hair be grabbed once more and bracing to have his head slammed into the table.

"You're an ungrateful sonuvabitch. Selfish and ungrateful."

Clamping his eyes shut, Sam clenched his hands into fists, trying to focus more on that pain than the one in his head. After a moment of his head resting against the table, Sam dared crack an eye open to see what had stopped the abuse. His answer was the hand giving one last jerk.

That was all it took.

Gritting his teeth, Sam felt his muscles tense as his head jerked back, arching with a groan as he came. The doppelganger's lips tugged back, revealing Dean's pearly whites before it slowly morphed into a large mouth that appeared to be the size of its whole head, the kind of mouth that devoured everything. The kind that didn't leave a trace of their victim's existence.

All that could pass through Sam's mind was one single curse word that also came out in a soft breath. "Shit."

The door flew open, causing both men to freeze, both their eyes darting over to it to see Dean. The real Dean, wielding an axe in a severely pissed off manner.

"Get down!" was all Sam could make out from the fog clouding his mind. Just as Dean ordered, he ducked his head while simultaneously moving his hand to cover the vulnerable side of his face.

A sizzling noise struck the brunet's eardrum. Next he heard an axe slicing through flesh and a body hitting the ground.

Slowly lifting his head, Sam looked down on the body, he shifted his legs to cover up the mess on his jeans and limp cock. Turning his attention from Dean, he zeroed in his sights on the old man who hurried over with keys to free him from his cuffs.

"Let's get a mop and bucket."

Even if his brother had saved him from becoming Leviathan Kibble Bits and he couldn't bear to look at the man. Sam slowly glanced over to receive a somewhat exasperated look from Dean, which caused some relief to flood in since this was really Dean. Not some messed up creature wearing his face.


"Yeah. Yeah."

Once the handcuffs were off, Sam let a hand go down to wipe off most of the spunk off his jeans before tucking his member back into his boxers and fastening the button and zipping them up. He then pushed away from the table to stand. Making his way over to the door, the taller of the three, excluding the beheaded Leviathan on the floor, stopped and peered over his shoulder to said body. Hazel eyes fell halfway shut, biting his lower lip, before averting his gaze and heading out to go find a mop and bucket.

When he reached the work area of the police station, the brunet cast a glance over everything, taking in that there was a dead man limp atop a desk.

The officer's back seemed to be curved in a manner that would hurt anyone who even looked at it. Anyone who was alive. Poor bastard probably had no idea what was coming until it was too late.

Which was most likely the case, if his guts on the floor and blood staining the oak had anything to say for it.

The next thing to capture his attention was the broken display case. Perhaps broken from having someone thrown into it, not that Sam doubted it since the axe's case cover was broken as well. Seeing as his brother had been holding said missing axe in the interrogation room, it was safe to say that Dean had broken the glass to get to it to use as a weapon. Letting his eyes trail downward, he let them roam over to the decapitated Leviathan that passed itself off as him.

Sam turned his head to the side, he stepped over a toppled trash can, and began to search for a mop. Personally, he knew Dean wouldn't hesitate to kill the thing, considering the black and white rule Dean had taken to heart. It was a monster, it had to die. It was a freak, it had to be done.

Did that include him as well?

Opening a closet, Sam reached up to coil his fingers around the chain, tugging it down to have light then flicker out through the light bulb to illuminate the small area. Hazel spheres scanned the entire space, head tilting back slightly. First to the right, then back to the left and finally downward to the floor.

Reaching a hand up, he brushed the side of his thumb against his lips in a thoughtful manner once he found out there was nothing they needed in this damn closet.

The brush though had the young Winchester's mind trail back to what happened in the interrogation room, which caused his stomach to turn violently. Gagging at the images, he covered his mouth with furrowed brows. Sam closed his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the door frame, taking a moment to think things through and breathed out slowly.

What had occurred in that room hit him full force, without mercy, as the images of that fake's face swam about in his head. His mind's eye playing the scenario over and over again recalling the unwanted advances the Leviathan made. Not only unwanted but the being had done it while wearing the elder Winchester's face and even abused him, both mentally and physically. Aside from that, the words it had used, what it had said, were twisted and messed with his head but the thing that nagged him most was how Dean lied about saying nothing was wrong. How the Leviathan told him Dean killed Amy, how there were other things Dean hadn't spoken to him about -


The hunter's eyes snapped open as a hand squeezed his shoulder, Sam dropped his hand from his face then glanced over his shoulder to see Dean standing there with a mop in hand.

" okay?"

Staring into emerald hues, ones that now haunted him, the hunter slowly offered a nod and forced a smile. "Yeah. I'm okay."

To be honest, he wasn't.