Disclaimer: I don't own anyone and am not making any money.

Sam watched his brother's face closely. Dean had never given him any reason to suspect he was hiding this awful secret, but then, there were a lot of sides to Dean that he was just finding out about now. And Dean never did talk about what he'd done while Sam was away at Stanford. But this – if Sam was really seeing this, he had a lifetime of ammunition.

"I'm telling you, man, it's not me!" Dean growled, somewhat too defensively, of you asked Sam.

"So you're going with 'a shapeshifter stole my face and used it to pursue a career in daytime television'?"

"What else could it be, Sam? What did you think I was going to say? Yes, Sam, I was so lonely when ditched us for Stanford that I had to express myself by secretly acting on a soap opera?"

Sam frowned at the TV, where someone who was clearly Dean, only younger and quite a lot less badass, was begging a blonde girl with big hair and too much makeup not to do… something. Sam wasn't quite sure, because it was hard to concentrate on the plot when his brother kept showing up onscreen, wearing tight clothing and a look of bemusement while his thoughts were broadcast in a voiceover. "I thought maybe it was for a case?"

"Sure, a case where I had to go undercover for three years. Turn it off, it's creepy." Dean made a sudden grab for the remote.

Sam stood up and childishly held the remote above his head. On screen, in a disturbing echo of real life, Dean said: "I had to stop you hurting people, Sammy."

"Wait, if it's not you, how do you know he was on there for three years – oof!" Sam doubled over as Dean's fist slammed into his stomach, but he managed to keep hold of the remote.

Dean grabbed at his hand, trying to free the remote. "Do you really think I didn't investigate? Like I'd be okay with him wearing my face and doing… that." The expression of disgust on Dean's face was comical. It was an expression reserved by normal people for finding used band-aids in their food, or having someone vomit on them.

On the TV, Dean was facing away from the girl and saying dramatically, "All the lies, the manipulation… you never really had amnesia, did you, Sammy?"

Dean took advantage of Sam's distraction to tackle him. Caught off guard, Sam stumbled sideways into the TV, knocking it backwards into the orange and brown patterned wallpaper of the motel room. There was a disturbing crunch, a hiss of static, and then the big-haired girl cried: "Twins are supposed to support each other, but you love her more than you care about me, don't you?"

Dean dived forward, jabbing at the power button. Nothing happened. "Now look what you've done! Where's the remote?"

Sam lifted his boot. The remote lay, crushed beyond repair, where it had fallen out of his hand when he'd stumbled. "Dude, it's no big deal. I know you did some questionable things for money sometimes. You don't have to lie about it. There's no judgement here." Except for the constant teasing that was going to take place for the rest of his life.

"I'm not lying! When have I ever shown any indication of wanting to be on TV, Sam? And don't you think if it was me I'd have aimed a bit higher?" Dean finally gave up on stabbing at random buttons on the elderly television and retreated to sulk on his bed.

"Dean, you have to admit it's a pretty thin lie. I mean, why the hell would a shifter turn into you just to get a part on a soap opera? It's not like he's even a great actor." Sam moved the TV back into its original position on the faux-wooden cabinet, and went to sit down.

Onscreen, the now slightly fuzzy Dean urged his insane sister to get help, in a caring tone with an edge of desperation.

"Dude, have you seen me?" Dean gestured to his image on screen.

Sam smirked. "Exactly."

Dean glared at him. "Shut up. Maybe I was a mindless child soldier, but I was really freakin' pretty."

Sam kind of wanted to say something about Dean not being mindless, and also about the fact that he was undoubtedly still very handsome, but he thought that might be a weird thing to say to your brother. Instead he said: "So you're so pretty that this monster had to turn into you to get work as an actor? I'm just shocked it hasn't happened more often. "

And suddenly, Dean's bright grin was back. "I tell you, Sammy, it's a pain in the ass being this pretty."

"So have you already taken care of this then?"

Dean shook his head, scooting backwards to lie sprawled on the worn brown bedspread beneath him. "Nah. You know, the show's really not that bad."

Onscreen, Dean's face was scrunched up in a position Sam could only assume was meant to represent thinking. He looked directly into the camera, one hand gripping his blonde-streaked hair.

Sam settled down into a more comfortable position. Actually, he did kind of want to know if shapeshifter-Dean was going to stop his crazy sister from killing the other sister, who had just married the crazy sister's ex husband.